"But to deviate from the truth for the sake of some prospect of hope of our own can never be wise, however slight that deviation may be. It is not our judgment of the situation which can show us what is wise, but only the truth of the Word of God. Here alone lies the promise of God's faithfulness and help. It will always be true that the wisest course for the disciple is always to abide solely by the Word of God in all simplicity." - Dietrich Bonhoeffer
To the outside world I've had a relatively carefree week. The winter term is over, spring break is here, exciting things are happening and I'm generally optimistic (as usual). Inwardly, however, I've been contemplative and reflective over the last couple of years of my life and where I'm headed now. It's just that time of year, I guess.
I'm making decisions for my life that are important; decisions that are heavy and include consequences - not necessarily bad - that I can actually foresee. I am making decisions much differently than I did when I was just a few years younger. Those years, apparently, add character (or something like that, right?). I'm moving to California next year. That's a big decision. I'm writing a book. That's a big decision. I'm doing things for me - not things society or family or friends or people expect me to do. Most importantly: I'm doing things for God, for the One I put my faith into.
I've come out of this state of fear and uncertainty with my faith into a place where every day I make a decision about it. Every day I choose to look deeper into God's heart for His people and trust He's got a bigger plan than I know. Every day I choose to believe the bible and the promises that God wrote into it. Every day I choose to serve Him and focus my thoughts toward Him. Every day I choose to see what He wants for me. Every day I choose to see the people around me as loved and out of that I try to be a light for God to them. I choose to offer the hope that I know. That's my choice. It's totally not easy. Some days I dislike these choices, but the beauty that my heart knows because of these choices is nothing I would trade. I'm starting to understand this "commitment" thing.
And because of this decision to choose God - although sometimes sporadically - I see my life becoming something it wasn't before. I see fruit of the mercy God graciously gave to me. I used to be broken. I used to make bad decisions without anticipating consequences as I should (and I'm sure I unwittingly still do). I see the beauty of my family and community in my life. I see the beauty of honesty and love through difficulties and the daily grind. I see, via my faith, things in my life that I intentionally direct toward God coming back to Him and the way He intended life to be - I see redemption.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The Cutting Room Floor
I often feel I need the answers
to the deepest longings of my soul,
the unknown, the unknowable
I search them out as if they sit perched
on a lovely tree branch around the corner
just beyond the bend of the path
my feet happen to be walking upon
I often feel my heart beating to
escape the fortress so carefully built
to protect it during times of war
and this, my dear, is not a war
tis but a dance of life,
brimming with promise
and possibility and adventure
this my dear, is not a war
and vulnerability is not a crime
I often feel terrified of becoming
what I have been, something I once was
not to any true fault of my own
but a commodity, a thing for simple pleasure
it is not the way intended
but wouldn't it be beautiful
to shed that reasoning and simply be
I often feel the residue of cynicism
darkening my expectations of what could be -
the burns and the scars have not gone away
and I wonder if they ever will
and can I be free of or redeemed from
something that wounded the core of my being
so horribly and thoughtlessly
And yet I often feel hope
and I desire trust above all
to live a fulfilling, awe-inspiring life
that speaks of Greater things
that declares love and freedom
redemption and potential
that nothing we are is thrown carelessly
to the cutting room floor
to the deepest longings of my soul,
the unknown, the unknowable
I search them out as if they sit perched
on a lovely tree branch around the corner
just beyond the bend of the path
my feet happen to be walking upon
I often feel my heart beating to
escape the fortress so carefully built
to protect it during times of war
and this, my dear, is not a war
tis but a dance of life,
brimming with promise
and possibility and adventure
this my dear, is not a war
and vulnerability is not a crime
I often feel terrified of becoming
what I have been, something I once was
not to any true fault of my own
but a commodity, a thing for simple pleasure
it is not the way intended
but wouldn't it be beautiful
to shed that reasoning and simply be
I often feel the residue of cynicism
darkening my expectations of what could be -
the burns and the scars have not gone away
and I wonder if they ever will
and can I be free of or redeemed from
something that wounded the core of my being
so horribly and thoughtlessly
And yet I often feel hope
and I desire trust above all
to live a fulfilling, awe-inspiring life
that speaks of Greater things
that declares love and freedom
redemption and potential
that nothing we are is thrown carelessly
to the cutting room floor
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
A Remarkable Turn
My life has taken a sudden, remarkable turn.
A couple of days ago I hit my epiphany that set my heart at ease about a number of things: school, desires, where I am headed after school, etc. It set my heart at peace so much so that I was able to hear God telling me to move in a new and radical way. Before I delve into that I need to explain a little bit about my life pre-epiphany.
Things pre-epiphany were new and exciting. I was back in school, working hard, getting into a groove of studying and trying to balance the rest of my already settled life of friends, family and skiing. School was challenging - more so than I expected. The bible study I had started to lead was rocking my face off. And yet, somewhere below the surface I was not at rest. My writing was inhibited and I couldn't figure out why (though I'm grateful for that: in order to combat this writer's block I started some new habits and practices that are truly helping me refine my abilities). My "writer's block" was the biggest inclination, however, that something in my soul was amiss.
Last week I had two conversations two days apart with two people who live in different states. I admire these folks greatly and both of them - darn near verbatim - told me the same thing: if I'm to get a degree in Intercultural Communications I should think about transferring to a larger and more diverse school for my upper level courses. They proposed being in a small town has the potential to be toxic to my education. They were in no way saying that the profs here in Bend are under-qualified or that my degree wouldn't mean much from such a small school in a small town. Put simply: it would likely be a healthy change for me as a person to head to a bigger city to challenge me personally as well as in my education.
When things like these conversations repeat themselves I take notice. I would be hard-pressed to let this particular instance slip by. I requested information from a couple of schools within an 8 hour driving radius hoping first that I wouldn't have to go too far from home. I still wasn't convinced of leaving Bend. I always imagined I would finish school close to my family and friends and maybe even get married before leaving to find a job with an international relief organization. I love Bend. I love this community. You couldn't have talked me into leaving if you tried...
...until one fateful morning at Thump.
I was tootling around online looking at schools on the West Coast and I happened across the Pepperdine Universtiy website. As soon as I clicked on the page for the International/Intercultural Communications Studies program and skimmed through the description something deep in my soul clicked. The program in and of itself is positively astounding (as it should be for a school like Pepperdine). I realized in that moment I would be leaving Bend and I was excited.
Pepperdine is my first choice. There are a lot of unknowns at this point: finances, the date when I can transfer into the program (it will be Spring or Fall of 2011), if I am even accepted, etc. I have a handful of schools I will apply for as backup options (Westmont and Biola are a couple of them).
After this rather quick turn of events I sat down with yet another amazing friend of mine for dinner. We got on the topic of what I called my "writer's block" and the potential of that feeling being more than just, well, "writer's block". As we discussed this I realized it might have been instead an underlying dissatisfaction with certain aspects of life - things which I still cannot put my finger on - only one of which I know for certain.
There is, in this town, an identity which I cannot escape. I've tried with all of my might to make the switch from business owner and wedding gown designer to student, writer and future advocate. And yet week after week I encounter someone who will wonder "Why? Really - a writer?" or I'll get inquiry on top of inquiry for new clients or potential business partnerships. It's all that marketing - it's really starting to pay off! Ironic! ...burdensome.
It sounds ridiculous but it is exhausting trying to escape that identity. Yes, I loved my work. I loved silk and lace, I loved my clients who glowed with excitement, I loved putting together a business and watching the different aspects work together as a functioning whole, I loved all of it. Until, that is, I realized my deeper passion was for the oppressed and the potential for me to use my voice as a means to bring injustice to light.
So I find freedom in escaping this identity and moving forward in what I truly believe God has called me to. I find freedom in leaving.
A couple of days ago I hit my epiphany that set my heart at ease about a number of things: school, desires, where I am headed after school, etc. It set my heart at peace so much so that I was able to hear God telling me to move in a new and radical way. Before I delve into that I need to explain a little bit about my life pre-epiphany.
Things pre-epiphany were new and exciting. I was back in school, working hard, getting into a groove of studying and trying to balance the rest of my already settled life of friends, family and skiing. School was challenging - more so than I expected. The bible study I had started to lead was rocking my face off. And yet, somewhere below the surface I was not at rest. My writing was inhibited and I couldn't figure out why (though I'm grateful for that: in order to combat this writer's block I started some new habits and practices that are truly helping me refine my abilities). My "writer's block" was the biggest inclination, however, that something in my soul was amiss.
Last week I had two conversations two days apart with two people who live in different states. I admire these folks greatly and both of them - darn near verbatim - told me the same thing: if I'm to get a degree in Intercultural Communications I should think about transferring to a larger and more diverse school for my upper level courses. They proposed being in a small town has the potential to be toxic to my education. They were in no way saying that the profs here in Bend are under-qualified or that my degree wouldn't mean much from such a small school in a small town. Put simply: it would likely be a healthy change for me as a person to head to a bigger city to challenge me personally as well as in my education.
When things like these conversations repeat themselves I take notice. I would be hard-pressed to let this particular instance slip by. I requested information from a couple of schools within an 8 hour driving radius hoping first that I wouldn't have to go too far from home. I still wasn't convinced of leaving Bend. I always imagined I would finish school close to my family and friends and maybe even get married before leaving to find a job with an international relief organization. I love Bend. I love this community. You couldn't have talked me into leaving if you tried...
...until one fateful morning at Thump.
I was tootling around online looking at schools on the West Coast and I happened across the Pepperdine Universtiy website. As soon as I clicked on the page for the International/Intercultural Communications Studies program and skimmed through the description something deep in my soul clicked. The program in and of itself is positively astounding (as it should be for a school like Pepperdine). I realized in that moment I would be leaving Bend and I was excited.
Pepperdine is my first choice. There are a lot of unknowns at this point: finances, the date when I can transfer into the program (it will be Spring or Fall of 2011), if I am even accepted, etc. I have a handful of schools I will apply for as backup options (Westmont and Biola are a couple of them).
After this rather quick turn of events I sat down with yet another amazing friend of mine for dinner. We got on the topic of what I called my "writer's block" and the potential of that feeling being more than just, well, "writer's block". As we discussed this I realized it might have been instead an underlying dissatisfaction with certain aspects of life - things which I still cannot put my finger on - only one of which I know for certain.
There is, in this town, an identity which I cannot escape. I've tried with all of my might to make the switch from business owner and wedding gown designer to student, writer and future advocate. And yet week after week I encounter someone who will wonder "Why? Really - a writer?" or I'll get inquiry on top of inquiry for new clients or potential business partnerships. It's all that marketing - it's really starting to pay off! Ironic! ...burdensome.
It sounds ridiculous but it is exhausting trying to escape that identity. Yes, I loved my work. I loved silk and lace, I loved my clients who glowed with excitement, I loved putting together a business and watching the different aspects work together as a functioning whole, I loved all of it. Until, that is, I realized my deeper passion was for the oppressed and the potential for me to use my voice as a means to bring injustice to light.
So I find freedom in escaping this identity and moving forward in what I truly believe God has called me to. I find freedom in leaving.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Ephiphany
I came to a simple, beautiful epiphany yesterday - which shows you just how young I still am as a follower of Christ. I've been praying for one thing for 7 years and God has yet to answer me. I realized in my frustration over the past week that there's been a disconnect in this prayer over the years. I know I haven't truly surrendered this to God but I've been trying; I simply don't know what submission in this respect looks like. More often than not our relationship with God is not tangible or easy to peg - obviously.
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
That little phrase, "pray without ceasing" is something I haven't exactly practiced. Even this prayer of 7 years has been intermittent and lacking fervency. However, I realized as I was praying about this last night that the simple act of persistent prayer is about a continual "letting go" of the subject at hand and the discipline of the posture of my heart in the reality that God is the Creator and I am His created.
This was my beautiful epiphany which I will now begin to discipline myself in.
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
That little phrase, "pray without ceasing" is something I haven't exactly practiced. Even this prayer of 7 years has been intermittent and lacking fervency. However, I realized as I was praying about this last night that the simple act of persistent prayer is about a continual "letting go" of the subject at hand and the discipline of the posture of my heart in the reality that God is the Creator and I am His created.
This was my beautiful epiphany which I will now begin to discipline myself in.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thoughts on the Big Two Five
slow reflections coursing through my mind
joy
heartache
gladness
melodic enthusiasm beating through my heart
anticipation
anxiety
wonderment
a twinge of excitement embraces my toes
curiosity
destiny
adventure
faith that envelopes the three
gratitude
praise
life
Next week marks the big 25 for me. Whoopty-doo. It's just another year, really. As the years pass the markers get a little less exciting. I can vote, I can buy a pack o ciggies, I can fight for my country, I can drink a beer after work, and this year my car insurance gets a little less expensive and I can rent a car. Thrilling.
I genuinely love my birthday, though. It's a time I can guilt trip my friends and family into being with me and not feel guilty about it. It's a time that I use to look into their faces and see what a beautiful impact they've made on my life; I couldn't do it without them.
I'm grateful for where I am. I'm thankful for the mistakes and successes, the joys and the times of grief. I'm glad that God continues to show me more of Who He Is as He shows me His faithfulness. I'm pleased to say that adventures are always on the horizon, whether they are a life change such as school or a random night time ski trip with a friend. I'm excited to enjoy the years ahead as I learn to deeply love others in a way that pleases God. I'm scared of some aspects of the life God has marvelously planned out for me; I realize it will not be easy. Like C.S. Lewis said, "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."
Pain has become something I fear less. Joy has become more difficult to grasp, but something deeply treasured and sought out. Life at any stage I admire with great intensity. Hearts lost in pain or filled with hope are the truth we live. Grace must abound, it was not created for us to simply receive. Human connection is poignant. Community is weighted more than gold. Success is not to be ours, but glory for God and service to Him. I regret nothing, instead I choose to be thankful for everything. I have yet to see certain dreams come to life, but I am not sad they seem to be delayed; I choose to wait in hopeful expectation.
Life has three beautiful parts: the has been, the will be, and the moments we choose how to fill now. I hope my heart continually remembers the importance of these.
joy
heartache
gladness
melodic enthusiasm beating through my heart
anticipation
anxiety
wonderment
a twinge of excitement embraces my toes
curiosity
destiny
adventure
faith that envelopes the three
gratitude
praise
life
Next week marks the big 25 for me. Whoopty-doo. It's just another year, really. As the years pass the markers get a little less exciting. I can vote, I can buy a pack o ciggies, I can fight for my country, I can drink a beer after work, and this year my car insurance gets a little less expensive and I can rent a car. Thrilling.
I genuinely love my birthday, though. It's a time I can guilt trip my friends and family into being with me and not feel guilty about it. It's a time that I use to look into their faces and see what a beautiful impact they've made on my life; I couldn't do it without them.
I'm grateful for where I am. I'm thankful for the mistakes and successes, the joys and the times of grief. I'm glad that God continues to show me more of Who He Is as He shows me His faithfulness. I'm pleased to say that adventures are always on the horizon, whether they are a life change such as school or a random night time ski trip with a friend. I'm excited to enjoy the years ahead as I learn to deeply love others in a way that pleases God. I'm scared of some aspects of the life God has marvelously planned out for me; I realize it will not be easy. Like C.S. Lewis said, "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."
Pain has become something I fear less. Joy has become more difficult to grasp, but something deeply treasured and sought out. Life at any stage I admire with great intensity. Hearts lost in pain or filled with hope are the truth we live. Grace must abound, it was not created for us to simply receive. Human connection is poignant. Community is weighted more than gold. Success is not to be ours, but glory for God and service to Him. I regret nothing, instead I choose to be thankful for everything. I have yet to see certain dreams come to life, but I am not sad they seem to be delayed; I choose to wait in hopeful expectation.
Life has three beautiful parts: the has been, the will be, and the moments we choose how to fill now. I hope my heart continually remembers the importance of these.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Unending, really? Really.
I have been on this justice kick for a while now. I've been reading books, scouring the bible, and educating myself on current social justice issues around the globe. It is clear to me that God is a God of justice.
During this time I have found my prayers circling this basic thought process that God is someone to be reckoned with, that I am to strive with Him, pleading for justice and change and true love and truth to rise up amidst hopelessness and the terrors of our day. As much as persistent prayer is biblical, I felt like my prayers and my motives were lacking something. Something was missing somewhere on my radar and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
It wasn't until a conversation over a beer in a crowded restaurant the other night that it dawned on me via the insight and wisdom from a very dear friend. Carrie is one of the people in my life that shares this passion for social and biblical justice. And because she's been at this longer than I have I am thankful to the bottom of my heart to have her in my life to help guide me.
As we sipped on our beers, we were marveling at the sermons at church as of late and feeling grateful that truth is being spoken in regards to love and justice (see my last blog). As we talked, Carrie brought up a book that she had recently read and a point the author made that turned our conversation upside down for a bit.
The thought was this: unless you fully understand and set your foundation on how much God ACTUALLY loves YOU as an individual (through the gift of Christ's example and sacrifice), you cannot genuinely love others nor can you be effective in doing justice. At least not for very long.
This is not to say that those doing justice who do not know God cannot do any good, but those who do not rest on His foundation and purpose to know His love personally will not be able to last in fervor of service and pure motive. Their "cup" will run out because it is not being continually filled and nourished with God's love in order that love flows out of their life to properly "do justice, correct oppression, bring justice to the fatherless and plead the widow's cause". (And sorry to use such an overused "Christian-y" metaphor, it drives me nuts, but the "cup" makes sense.)
We (at least for Carrie and I) have always heard as we grew up in the church that if you love God, you must love others. But it seems natural and biblical that we should know He first loved us. Unless we know with full assurance and seek out how much God loves us, where will our motives come from? And how quickly will our perseverance run out if we are not resting on that love?
This is hard for me to grasp in some ways because I see many American Christians who take, take, take, receive, receive, receive, and horde, horde, horde. It seems it's therapeutic to be a Christian for so many. It fulfills this surface need to believe in something, gives us hope, forgives our sins and makes us feel like we're a better person for being "religious" or by having "faith". However, in this need to fulfill self we have forgotten to turn around and genuinely give the grace so lavished upon us to our fellow man in need (whether it is spiritual or physical). When I began to notice what was happening around me I felt my own heart go to the extreme of give, give, give. Give your heart, your life, your excess, give out of no excess by faith...and I forgot to continue truly receiving God's love as my source and ability to give and do justice. I felt guilty (and I kid you not) for reading Psalms as a means to draw closer to God. It may sound asinine, but it's true.
A matter of months ago I began to feel guilty for accepting this love and for feeling so good about God's grace and love toward me when I constantly have thoughts in the back of my mind about injustice and the suffering of others in this world. However, it seems I went to the other extreme, one which would lead me down a dead end road of complete exhaustion and more than likely bitterness and hopelessness.
It seems to me that my prayers will shift in content and direction just a few degrees now. The time I spend reading the bible will begin to contain a little bit more reading so that I begin to seek God's love not only for others, but also for my own heart. Because God's love is unending, and that is the foundation upon which I need to stand.
During this time I have found my prayers circling this basic thought process that God is someone to be reckoned with, that I am to strive with Him, pleading for justice and change and true love and truth to rise up amidst hopelessness and the terrors of our day. As much as persistent prayer is biblical, I felt like my prayers and my motives were lacking something. Something was missing somewhere on my radar and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
It wasn't until a conversation over a beer in a crowded restaurant the other night that it dawned on me via the insight and wisdom from a very dear friend. Carrie is one of the people in my life that shares this passion for social and biblical justice. And because she's been at this longer than I have I am thankful to the bottom of my heart to have her in my life to help guide me.
As we sipped on our beers, we were marveling at the sermons at church as of late and feeling grateful that truth is being spoken in regards to love and justice (see my last blog). As we talked, Carrie brought up a book that she had recently read and a point the author made that turned our conversation upside down for a bit.
The thought was this: unless you fully understand and set your foundation on how much God ACTUALLY loves YOU as an individual (through the gift of Christ's example and sacrifice), you cannot genuinely love others nor can you be effective in doing justice. At least not for very long.
This is not to say that those doing justice who do not know God cannot do any good, but those who do not rest on His foundation and purpose to know His love personally will not be able to last in fervor of service and pure motive. Their "cup" will run out because it is not being continually filled and nourished with God's love in order that love flows out of their life to properly "do justice, correct oppression, bring justice to the fatherless and plead the widow's cause". (And sorry to use such an overused "Christian-y" metaphor, it drives me nuts, but the "cup" makes sense.)
We (at least for Carrie and I) have always heard as we grew up in the church that if you love God, you must love others. But it seems natural and biblical that we should know He first loved us. Unless we know with full assurance and seek out how much God loves us, where will our motives come from? And how quickly will our perseverance run out if we are not resting on that love?
This is hard for me to grasp in some ways because I see many American Christians who take, take, take, receive, receive, receive, and horde, horde, horde. It seems it's therapeutic to be a Christian for so many. It fulfills this surface need to believe in something, gives us hope, forgives our sins and makes us feel like we're a better person for being "religious" or by having "faith". However, in this need to fulfill self we have forgotten to turn around and genuinely give the grace so lavished upon us to our fellow man in need (whether it is spiritual or physical). When I began to notice what was happening around me I felt my own heart go to the extreme of give, give, give. Give your heart, your life, your excess, give out of no excess by faith...and I forgot to continue truly receiving God's love as my source and ability to give and do justice. I felt guilty (and I kid you not) for reading Psalms as a means to draw closer to God. It may sound asinine, but it's true.
A matter of months ago I began to feel guilty for accepting this love and for feeling so good about God's grace and love toward me when I constantly have thoughts in the back of my mind about injustice and the suffering of others in this world. However, it seems I went to the other extreme, one which would lead me down a dead end road of complete exhaustion and more than likely bitterness and hopelessness.
It seems to me that my prayers will shift in content and direction just a few degrees now. The time I spend reading the bible will begin to contain a little bit more reading so that I begin to seek God's love not only for others, but also for my own heart. Because God's love is unending, and that is the foundation upon which I need to stand.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
The Spirit of Life
I have been processing and contemplating numerous things these past few weeks. Jesus-Love. Dangerous living. Sacrifice. Right and wrong religion. Justice. Love. Heartache. Social norms and expectations. Coffee. (OK, maybe not coffee, but because I'm sipping coffee at this moment, I figured I'd throw it in there.)
Since my announcement to close the doors on my company I've felt free. Free to pursue what I feel is the absolute passion that lies in the deepest part of my soul. My direction and efforts no longer feel like a means to an end. I haven't been able to fall asleep at night because my mind is racing excitedly about the adventure that lies ahead. I think about advocacy, and justice, and Jesus, and love, and what in the world should love look like? What does God want those things to look like (in my life, in the church)? Who is the real Jesus? I'm talking about the one in the bible, not the one the recent culture of the American "church" has made Him out to be (because for the most part we've done a terrible job at knowing Him and following His example).
Last week I listened to this sermon (entitled: Love as Dogma, November 22, 2009 - um, as well as the week prior by Ed Underwood, amazing), and I simply burned with passion. Tears flowed uncontrollably out of my eyes because we, the church, have lost sight of the beauty of Jesus and His humble example for us. We don't know who He is anymore. We don't know how to follow Him anymore because tradition and our own desires and comfort have gotten in the way. That breaks my heart; I walk around with a nearly consuming sadness inside of me because of that. Really, there are no words to describe it to you properly. I challenge you to take the time and listen to that message.
"Love as Dogma" was yet another defining moment in my pursuit of justice and how I will be able to make an impact in this world for the glory of God. I realized that my life may not consist of being a full time missionary overseas. I still envision my life being dangerous. I still envision going to the places that nobody else wants to go. I still long to meet and love on and provide for those that most everybody else has forgotten about. I want to ask the hard questions in search for the difficult answers. And most importantly, I want to carry their voices to the place that they are scarcely heard: to the United States. That is my passion. I beg you to seek for yours if you haven't found it already.
My heart longs for us to take Jesus for who He actually is and to live love and justice. I want us to question why it is we go to church every day in order that we may actually be the buzz word of our generation: authentic. I want us to question the hurt in this world and to not be overwhelmed at the answer: that we are a part of the problem, and that we can also be a part of the solution. I want us to not be overwhelmed and to simply realize that we, each and every one of us, are created to do something related to biblical justice: whether it is in our immediate sphere of influence and our community, or if it is a radical life comparable to of one of the greats that went before us (Locke, Gandhi, Mandela...).
Let us take courage. Let us ask the hard questions. Let us follow our passions with great fervor. Let us live like we believe our convictions, and let us live that in real love, in Jesus-love.
Since my announcement to close the doors on my company I've felt free. Free to pursue what I feel is the absolute passion that lies in the deepest part of my soul. My direction and efforts no longer feel like a means to an end. I haven't been able to fall asleep at night because my mind is racing excitedly about the adventure that lies ahead. I think about advocacy, and justice, and Jesus, and love, and what in the world should love look like? What does God want those things to look like (in my life, in the church)? Who is the real Jesus? I'm talking about the one in the bible, not the one the recent culture of the American "church" has made Him out to be (because for the most part we've done a terrible job at knowing Him and following His example).
Last week I listened to this sermon (entitled: Love as Dogma, November 22, 2009 - um, as well as the week prior by Ed Underwood, amazing), and I simply burned with passion. Tears flowed uncontrollably out of my eyes because we, the church, have lost sight of the beauty of Jesus and His humble example for us. We don't know who He is anymore. We don't know how to follow Him anymore because tradition and our own desires and comfort have gotten in the way. That breaks my heart; I walk around with a nearly consuming sadness inside of me because of that. Really, there are no words to describe it to you properly. I challenge you to take the time and listen to that message.
"Love as Dogma" was yet another defining moment in my pursuit of justice and how I will be able to make an impact in this world for the glory of God. I realized that my life may not consist of being a full time missionary overseas. I still envision my life being dangerous. I still envision going to the places that nobody else wants to go. I still long to meet and love on and provide for those that most everybody else has forgotten about. I want to ask the hard questions in search for the difficult answers. And most importantly, I want to carry their voices to the place that they are scarcely heard: to the United States. That is my passion. I beg you to seek for yours if you haven't found it already.
My heart longs for us to take Jesus for who He actually is and to live love and justice. I want us to question why it is we go to church every day in order that we may actually be the buzz word of our generation: authentic. I want us to question the hurt in this world and to not be overwhelmed at the answer: that we are a part of the problem, and that we can also be a part of the solution. I want us to not be overwhelmed and to simply realize that we, each and every one of us, are created to do something related to biblical justice: whether it is in our immediate sphere of influence and our community, or if it is a radical life comparable to of one of the greats that went before us (Locke, Gandhi, Mandela...).
Let us take courage. Let us ask the hard questions. Let us follow our passions with great fervor. Let us live like we believe our convictions, and let us live that in real love, in Jesus-love.
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