When I'm bored at work, I like to surf the Web for some interesting news articles, and this one takes the cake on interesting. I ran across an article in the Dallas Morning News religion blog that interviews Os Guinness about a new "Evangelical Manifesto" that was published last week. It caught my eye because we just finished reading his book "The Call" in our DCM class, and much of the stuff in there caught my eye. His point in the book is that, as Christians, we are called by God to live out the nature of grace in our lives. His call is central to our very existence as Christians, first to surrender ourselves to His will, and second to live out that grace in a day-to-day life in our dealings with others. Careers, occupations, and things of that nature may not necessarily be a part of our vocation, our call to service Christ. So after discussing that, I realized that I like what he has to say. I think that it's very very Biblically based, theologically sound. So when I saw that he had been one of the people to write the "Evangelical Manifesto", I got curious.
Another reason I got curious was because we had studied the Evangelical movement in my American Church History class this semester. It's a curious thing... this movement. It was designed to get away from the radical Fundamentalist movement that portrayed God as vengeful and not loving (of course, He is a wrathful God because He's holy, but that's another issue altogether).
It's a good read. It has some very good points as far as finally settling doctrinal issues that evangelicals have been struggling over for months. The Church in America is suffering. It's on the brink of collapse, as a matter of fact. We don't know what we believe. We don't know doctrine, we don't know Scripture, and ultimately we have no idea of what God desires us to be. It's laxidaisical, lazy, apathetic, and just plain screwed up. We've focused far more on privatizing our religion and getting people in the doors than discipling them in accordance with Scripture ("teaching them all that I have commanded you".) We don't know theology. We don't know Christology. We don't know anything. And it's frustrating.
We also don't know how to get along with other people. We're so focused on saying that we're right and they're wrong that we forget how to civilly dialogue with someone from another religion or even another denomination. This Manifesto calls for a civil public square-- where we can discuss our different opinions with civility and gentleness, like we're called to do ("Always be ready to give an answer for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect.") Too many fundamentalist Christians (*cough* Pat Robertson *cough*) just end up putting a bad name on Christianity by calling for assassinations or protesting gay marriage outside funerals for fallen soldiers. Every time they open their mouths it's to take out their foot and stick the other one in. There's a time and a place to vote against moral measures, and there's no time or place to publicly call for Christians to pressure the government into assassination. So many non-Christians look at these kind of actions and reject Christianity altogether, simply because it's a bad representation of what a relationship with Christ really means.
By calling for a civil public square, this Manifesto puts religion back into the public light, since it has been hidden in the darkness of privatization for way too long. My faith is not private. My faith is a part of who I am... my Jesus and His call are all that I am. Neither should we make other religions privatize their faith in favor of our own. I hate to tell you this, but America was never founded on Christianity. It was founded on the concept of religious liberty, for all religions. Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, agnostics, atheists, Christians, Sikhs, Taoists, Shintos, and religions I can't even think of... all religions are supposed to have the freedom to practice their religion (as long as it doesn't transgress civil law, i.e. ritual human sacrifice) and to freely speak about it (see the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States). It's what sets our nation apart from other nations, because we don't have one single religion that it recognized above all the others. I'm tired of the Pat Robertsons of this country calling for us to return to our Christian roots. I'm tired of the Jerry Falwells of this country calling for everyone to automatically become Christian, because it's the American thing to do. They may be wrong, but it's not our place to tell them to give up their beliefs without a shred of evidence why they should. The Gospel of Christ is compelling, the grace of God is irresistible, and we are His messengers... but we are not His enforcers. We do not convert anyone. The Holy Spirit converts people, with or without us. We tend to speak out of both sides of our mouths on this point. We say that we should be given the forum to speak, but no one else is allowed the same forum.
Secondly, this Manifesto calls for us to de-politicize religion. Nowadays, unless you're a part of a certain party, you're pretty close to being called a heretic! Our allegiance is not to any party platform, civil group, world cause, or anything of the sort. Our allegiance is to Christ and Christ alone, to His Gospel and the spread of it, to preaching freedom in Christ and redemption through His blood. We've forgotten that in modern America. This is not to say that we should remove ourselves from all politics. In fact, we should be involved in getting a Christian voice into major issues. We're called to stand up for injustice, the weak of society, the millions of murdered unborn babies, the victims of horrific genocide. It's what Jesus did. But Christianity is not a weapon for political points, to use Guinness's words. We're not to use the Bible to get across a political message. We're not to become terrorists for Jesus. There is a method to getting what needs to be done in politics. It's called voting. It's called litigation. It's called lobbying. Not simply on the basis of "Well, Jesus said so," but on the basis of "It's morally right." Christianity is to never, ever, ever be synonymous with one party or another.
I don't know about you, but I am so ready to be taught what I believe. I'm ready for someone to finally stand up and say, "The church in America needs help." I think that this Manifesto is a good thing (I wished they had picked another term... anything other than Manifesto. I have visions of Communism when they say that.). It's a call to change the way that we think. It's a call to change the way that we behave. It points out things that are wrong with our Church these days. It's a call to get back to actually understanding theology and examining what the Bible really says. It finally stands up to say that Fundamentalism got things wrong, and Liberalism got things wrong. It stands up and says that it's time for civil dialogue between Christians and other religions in this world.
But don't take my word for it. Read it for yourself.
http://www.anevangelicalmanifesto.com/docs/Evangelical_Manifesto.pdf
Monday, May 12, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
With a song in my heart...
So I mentioned before that when bad things happen, I turn to music (Scriptural music, that is). I don't really know why that is, but for some reason, God always shows me a song that He wants me to consider when things start to go wrong in my life. And lately, that's been a lot of stuff.
I sat down about 3 weeks after Mrs. Marks died and begged God for the words to write a song for the way I was feeling. It seemed to me like everything that I had been feeling could be summed up in "Bring it on." I think I figured out that when things go wrong, God's trying to bring out a lesson for me. He's teaching me something about His character that I need to know. And what came to me was that, yes, it's okay to go through tough times in life. It's beneficial for us as Christians to face trials, because it teaches us to lean on Him for strength that we can't get anywhere else. And the way that I figure it, going through trials is okay by me, as long as God is there to protect my soul. So this is the product of that night.
Bring On the Storm-- Chris Johnston
Sometimes my life just makes no sense at all
The mountains before me seem just way too tall
I can't see in front, and I can't look behind
I can't seem to shake these doubts that plague my mind
So I'll cling to the love I can't comprehend
Claiming the blood that freed me from sin
So bring on the storm, bring on the rain
Let it wash away all my pain
'Cause it's through the rain I am made whole
So bring on the storm and cover my soul
I look for something to bring me some peace
I seek for someone to wipe these tears from my cheeks
I pray for mercy to come and make me whole
It's only Your mercy that fills this void in my soul
Though the wind howls around my battered form
I'll hold to the strength that can calm this storm
So let the lightning flash and the thunder roll
Let the rain pour down and make me whole again
Bring on the storm, bring on the rain,
Let it wash away all my pain
'Cause it's through the rain I am made whole
So bring on the storm and cover my soul
That song has been playing in my mind for the past couple of weeks, even when all that stuff went down with John last week. Though we may face trials of many kinds, God will never give us more than we can bear. Over the past month or so, He's given me more songs to hold onto during this time... they really speak peace over my life at this point.
This next song has been playing in my mind for the past 2 months or so, ever since... well, this semester from hell began.
Hold Me Jesus-Rich Mullins
Well sometimes my life just don't make sense at all
When the mountains look so big and my faith just seems so small
So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory, won't You be my Prince of Peace
And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul, I swear there must be blisters on my heart
So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory, won't You be my Prince of Peace
Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight You for something I don't really want
Than to take what You give that I need
And I beat my head against so many walls, now I'm falling down,
Falling on my knees
And the Salvation Army band is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep, makes my resistance seem so thin
So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory, won't You be my Prince of Peace
I adopted this next song by Rich Mullins a long time ago as kind of my life song... and it's held special meaning for me today. Nothing on earth should hold my allegiance but Him. If I'm going to stand, I'm going to stand on His grace and power and knowledge that He will indeed pull me through.
If I Stand
There's more that rises in the morning than the sun
And more that shines in the night than just the moon
There's more than this fire here that keeps me warm
And a shelter that is larger than this room
And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
The stuff of earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things
So if I stand, let me stand on the promise
That You will pull me through
And if I can't let me fall on the grace
That first brought me to You
And if I sing let me sing for the joy
That has born in me these songs
And if I weep, let it be as a man
Who is longing for his home
There's more that dances on the prairie than the wind
And more that pulses in the ocean than the tide
There's a love that's fiercer than the love between friends
More gentle than a mother when her baby's at her side.
And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
The stuff of earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things.
Here's a kind of new hymn for me... it's the one I want playing at my funeral (if it's still around when I die). I still get chills every time I hear this song. I love the theological soundness of this song, and the tenacity of each of these statements. They are a firm statement on whom I will place my trust, and a bold declaration of where my hope lies.
In Christ Alone
In Christ alone, my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this Solid Ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love! What depths of peace!
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All-in-All,
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless Babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His, and He is mine,
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand!
All of these songs have been teaching me about God and His grace. I have been shown such unmerited favor, that when hard times come, I can't help but hold strong so that my God will still be glorified. Each of these songs has a common theme... In Christ's love, God's goodness, and the Holy Spirit's power I will stand until He moves me. And I will continually praise Him, with His Word on my lips and His song in my heart.
I sat down about 3 weeks after Mrs. Marks died and begged God for the words to write a song for the way I was feeling. It seemed to me like everything that I had been feeling could be summed up in "Bring it on." I think I figured out that when things go wrong, God's trying to bring out a lesson for me. He's teaching me something about His character that I need to know. And what came to me was that, yes, it's okay to go through tough times in life. It's beneficial for us as Christians to face trials, because it teaches us to lean on Him for strength that we can't get anywhere else. And the way that I figure it, going through trials is okay by me, as long as God is there to protect my soul. So this is the product of that night.
Bring On the Storm-- Chris Johnston
Sometimes my life just makes no sense at all
The mountains before me seem just way too tall
I can't see in front, and I can't look behind
I can't seem to shake these doubts that plague my mind
So I'll cling to the love I can't comprehend
Claiming the blood that freed me from sin
So bring on the storm, bring on the rain
Let it wash away all my pain
'Cause it's through the rain I am made whole
So bring on the storm and cover my soul
I look for something to bring me some peace
I seek for someone to wipe these tears from my cheeks
I pray for mercy to come and make me whole
It's only Your mercy that fills this void in my soul
Though the wind howls around my battered form
I'll hold to the strength that can calm this storm
So let the lightning flash and the thunder roll
Let the rain pour down and make me whole again
Bring on the storm, bring on the rain,
Let it wash away all my pain
'Cause it's through the rain I am made whole
So bring on the storm and cover my soul
That song has been playing in my mind for the past couple of weeks, even when all that stuff went down with John last week. Though we may face trials of many kinds, God will never give us more than we can bear. Over the past month or so, He's given me more songs to hold onto during this time... they really speak peace over my life at this point.
This next song has been playing in my mind for the past 2 months or so, ever since... well, this semester from hell began.
Hold Me Jesus-Rich Mullins
Well sometimes my life just don't make sense at all
When the mountains look so big and my faith just seems so small
So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory, won't You be my Prince of Peace
And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul, I swear there must be blisters on my heart
So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory, won't You be my Prince of Peace
Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight You for something I don't really want
Than to take what You give that I need
And I beat my head against so many walls, now I'm falling down,
Falling on my knees
And the Salvation Army band is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep, makes my resistance seem so thin
So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory, won't You be my Prince of Peace
I adopted this next song by Rich Mullins a long time ago as kind of my life song... and it's held special meaning for me today. Nothing on earth should hold my allegiance but Him. If I'm going to stand, I'm going to stand on His grace and power and knowledge that He will indeed pull me through.
If I Stand
There's more that rises in the morning than the sun
And more that shines in the night than just the moon
There's more than this fire here that keeps me warm
And a shelter that is larger than this room
And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
The stuff of earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things
So if I stand, let me stand on the promise
That You will pull me through
And if I can't let me fall on the grace
That first brought me to You
And if I sing let me sing for the joy
That has born in me these songs
And if I weep, let it be as a man
Who is longing for his home
There's more that dances on the prairie than the wind
And more that pulses in the ocean than the tide
There's a love that's fiercer than the love between friends
More gentle than a mother when her baby's at her side.
And there's a loyalty that's deeper than mere sentiment
And a music higher than the songs that I can sing
The stuff of earth competes for the allegiance
I owe only to the Giver of all good things.
Here's a kind of new hymn for me... it's the one I want playing at my funeral (if it's still around when I die). I still get chills every time I hear this song. I love the theological soundness of this song, and the tenacity of each of these statements. They are a firm statement on whom I will place my trust, and a bold declaration of where my hope lies.
In Christ Alone
In Christ alone, my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this Solid Ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love! What depths of peace!
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All-in-All,
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless Babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
'Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His, and He is mine,
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand!
All of these songs have been teaching me about God and His grace. I have been shown such unmerited favor, that when hard times come, I can't help but hold strong so that my God will still be glorified. Each of these songs has a common theme... In Christ's love, God's goodness, and the Holy Spirit's power I will stand until He moves me. And I will continually praise Him, with His Word on my lips and His song in my heart.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Can the Godly MAN please stand up?
I love how, when it seems like nothing else in my life can go wrong, something does. Sometimes it just seems like God loves to do that to us down here (before I get yelled at, I know it's not true). The last semester has, without a doubt, been my most emotionally taxing semester to date. It starts with an attempted suicide, losing a good friend, my dad leaving for war, my teacher dying, my parents maybe moving and me losing my free tuition, and now... I get played yet again. For the third time in 2 years. Is it just me, or is there something wrong with that?!
At least, that's how it seems to me.
So I had been sort of talking to this guy at school since Israel. While we were on our trip, we talked all the time, he'd come by my room and we'd go exploring with our roommates, we either sat next to each other or close to each other on the bus or at dinner... and it seemed to be going really well. I knew he had an ex-girlfriend that he was unsure about, but it didn't really bother me all that much. I figured that he'd get over her eventually. Apparently I was dead wrong.
We hung out solid for six weeks after we got back from Israel. At least once a week. Sometimes more. On the trip, he found out I love red Starburst, and one day he brought me some and said that he bought them earlier and thought of me, and he wanted to give them to me. On the trip, he found out I love fresh strawberries, and he brought me some when we went to church together. He'd say really sweet things, like how he was surprised that there were no boys in my church growing up if I was there. Or how I looked nice on a certain day. Or how I had a really nice smile, and if it came out more often when he was around we should keep hanging out. Stuff that no guy, not even my best guy-friends, say to me. I knew he was still hanging out with his ex, but he told me that they were still friends and he liked to hang out with her. Little did I know, huh.
So the other night we were hanging out, doing homework in the library when the power died. We couldn't see to do homework, so we sat in the dark and looked at pictures on our laptops before they died too. He was showing me pictures of the Rangers games he'd been to, and one came up of him and his ex. He said something like how he was really excited to see her that day, because he hadn't seen her in a while. So I kinda got to thinking that something was up. I knew something was up before this went down, but now I really got a suspicion. We finally left the library because it was dark and hot and his computer died, and he walked with me back to my dorm. I finally got up the courage to ask him if I could ask him a question, so I asked him if he and his girlfriend were talking about getting back together. He said, "Yeah. I want to, but she's still trying to decide if she can deal with the whole military thing."
You would think that I'd be a little upset about it. But I wasn't. Not at first. We went down by the pond by the apartments, and I played a couple of songs on my guitar. A couple of minutes later, he got up to leave so he could do homework and I said, "Ok. I'll just play a little more down here." He said, "I'm sorry if I misled you or anything. I still like hanging out with you." I said, "It's ok. Your heart is where your heart is." So he hugged me and I told him, "I hope [your ex] knows that she's a very lucky girl." After I played another song, I went to Borders with some friends to watch a movie, and he called me while we were there to check on me and make sure I was ok.
I guess it's a blessing in disguise, in a way. At least now I know where I stand with him, for now. And I don't know what the future is, so something could happen later. It still doesn't dampen the pain and the heartbreak.
I wrote a Facebook note with the title of this blog at the beginning of last summer, when everything with Ben went down. I guess this latest situation reminded me of that. I admit my part in what went wrong. I screwed up and didn't guard my heart. He screwed up and didn't guard my heart either. Truth is, I liked him a lot. I still do. He had almost every quality I look for in a guy... a strong relationship with the Lord, a passion for people and kids, confidence in himself... almost everything. I'm so tired of BOYS. I want a MAN that will stand up and say "I like you, do you like me back?" In my entire life, that has never ever ever happened. I'm not waiting for the perfect man. I'm just waiting for someone to actually be a man.
I'm sick of being played. I'm sick of winding up with a broken heart for guy after guy after guy. I'm sick of waiting. Sometimes I wish that God would just put a guy in front of me and say "This one is good! Go for it!" And just once, I wish that that guy would have the same feelings for me that I do for him.
While I'm kinda angry, I don't think that he did it on purpose. He's not the type of guy to intentionally hurt someone. In a way, yes, he did lead me on. He gave me signals that I could not have possibly misinterpreted. And by signals, I mean flirty text messages, gifts of my favorite things, saying really sweet things. For those that I've talked to about this, ya'll know just what kind of signals they were. He never acted that way to other girls, even girls that he's known much longer than he's known me. I could have sworn things were going really really well... especially since he told me that he doesn't like rushing into relationships.
I don't know what to do. I want to be friends with him still. I'm cool with being friends with him still. Especially since I know what's up now. At least, I think I can be friends with him still.
How do you heal a broken heart? Is there really anyway other than facing it? I don't want this whole thing to take another six months to get over.
Apparently I need some more practice in reading people.
At least, that's how it seems to me.
So I had been sort of talking to this guy at school since Israel. While we were on our trip, we talked all the time, he'd come by my room and we'd go exploring with our roommates, we either sat next to each other or close to each other on the bus or at dinner... and it seemed to be going really well. I knew he had an ex-girlfriend that he was unsure about, but it didn't really bother me all that much. I figured that he'd get over her eventually. Apparently I was dead wrong.
We hung out solid for six weeks after we got back from Israel. At least once a week. Sometimes more. On the trip, he found out I love red Starburst, and one day he brought me some and said that he bought them earlier and thought of me, and he wanted to give them to me. On the trip, he found out I love fresh strawberries, and he brought me some when we went to church together. He'd say really sweet things, like how he was surprised that there were no boys in my church growing up if I was there. Or how I looked nice on a certain day. Or how I had a really nice smile, and if it came out more often when he was around we should keep hanging out. Stuff that no guy, not even my best guy-friends, say to me. I knew he was still hanging out with his ex, but he told me that they were still friends and he liked to hang out with her. Little did I know, huh.
So the other night we were hanging out, doing homework in the library when the power died. We couldn't see to do homework, so we sat in the dark and looked at pictures on our laptops before they died too. He was showing me pictures of the Rangers games he'd been to, and one came up of him and his ex. He said something like how he was really excited to see her that day, because he hadn't seen her in a while. So I kinda got to thinking that something was up. I knew something was up before this went down, but now I really got a suspicion. We finally left the library because it was dark and hot and his computer died, and he walked with me back to my dorm. I finally got up the courage to ask him if I could ask him a question, so I asked him if he and his girlfriend were talking about getting back together. He said, "Yeah. I want to, but she's still trying to decide if she can deal with the whole military thing."
You would think that I'd be a little upset about it. But I wasn't. Not at first. We went down by the pond by the apartments, and I played a couple of songs on my guitar. A couple of minutes later, he got up to leave so he could do homework and I said, "Ok. I'll just play a little more down here." He said, "I'm sorry if I misled you or anything. I still like hanging out with you." I said, "It's ok. Your heart is where your heart is." So he hugged me and I told him, "I hope [your ex] knows that she's a very lucky girl." After I played another song, I went to Borders with some friends to watch a movie, and he called me while we were there to check on me and make sure I was ok.
I guess it's a blessing in disguise, in a way. At least now I know where I stand with him, for now. And I don't know what the future is, so something could happen later. It still doesn't dampen the pain and the heartbreak.
I wrote a Facebook note with the title of this blog at the beginning of last summer, when everything with Ben went down. I guess this latest situation reminded me of that. I admit my part in what went wrong. I screwed up and didn't guard my heart. He screwed up and didn't guard my heart either. Truth is, I liked him a lot. I still do. He had almost every quality I look for in a guy... a strong relationship with the Lord, a passion for people and kids, confidence in himself... almost everything. I'm so tired of BOYS. I want a MAN that will stand up and say "I like you, do you like me back?" In my entire life, that has never ever ever happened. I'm not waiting for the perfect man. I'm just waiting for someone to actually be a man.
I'm sick of being played. I'm sick of winding up with a broken heart for guy after guy after guy. I'm sick of waiting. Sometimes I wish that God would just put a guy in front of me and say "This one is good! Go for it!" And just once, I wish that that guy would have the same feelings for me that I do for him.
While I'm kinda angry, I don't think that he did it on purpose. He's not the type of guy to intentionally hurt someone. In a way, yes, he did lead me on. He gave me signals that I could not have possibly misinterpreted. And by signals, I mean flirty text messages, gifts of my favorite things, saying really sweet things. For those that I've talked to about this, ya'll know just what kind of signals they were. He never acted that way to other girls, even girls that he's known much longer than he's known me. I could have sworn things were going really really well... especially since he told me that he doesn't like rushing into relationships.
I don't know what to do. I want to be friends with him still. I'm cool with being friends with him still. Especially since I know what's up now. At least, I think I can be friends with him still.
How do you heal a broken heart? Is there really anyway other than facing it? I don't want this whole thing to take another six months to get over.
Apparently I need some more practice in reading people.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Three Weeks Later
It has been three weeks since my world got shaken up yet again. Somehow I feel like I've been in a fog since Mrs. Marks passed away. I seem to function normally... I go to classes, I hang out with friends, I laugh, I sing, I worship. But it's still empty... everything except my worship now. That's the only thing that is constant in my life at the moment. It's like, instinctively I know that Jesus is the only thing that makes sense in this kind of situation. I love chilling with my friends (one in particular, of course), and it keeps my mind off it, but it's like there's so much that I need to get off my chest that I'm holding in.
There's a huge void in my heart now, and I didn't even know that she had filled it. I was close with her while I was in high school (she was one of my absolute favorite teachers), but over the past couple of years, since I graduated, I didn't get to see her that much. I would always make sure I gave her a hug and talked with her a little bit whenever I went up to school, but those trips became fewer and more far between after last year.
The only place I can think of turning to is Jesus. I was thinking about it last night as I was trying to write a song for these three weeks. As empty as I feel, as pointless as this death seems, the only thing that I could think of saying to God was "Bring it on." I think somewhere in the back of my mind I realized last night that this storm makes me trust Him more. When nothing in my life makes sense, I know that this situation is growing me as a person and as a Christian. He's all I have left to hold onto, and I have to resolve that the wind and the rain is not going to loosen my grip on Him or His grip on me. His mercy and His grace are the only things that can make my heart whole again, but it's through that rain falling down on me that I am washed clean from all my grief and shame.
I can almost hear God saying to me what He said to Job: "Who are you to question My plan?" If I can't trust God in EVERY circumstance, my faith, my life, my salvation means nothing. God didn't call me to trust Him in just the good times. He called me to take up my cross daily and follow Him, leaving everything behind that I held dear. He said that narrow is the road that leads to eternal life. He promised that the road would get rocky at times, and that I would walk through the darkness where a million other voices would compete for my attention. But He also said that He would be a lamp for my feet and a light to my path. He promised that He would be the Prince of Peace, a Wonderful Counselor. He promised that nothing could ever pluck me out of His hand. He promised that He would never leave me or forsake me. And most of all, He said that death has no more victory, and the grave has no more claim on my life because Christ rose from the dead and is now seated at the right hand of God the Father. I believe those promises. It's the only place I can put my hope. Christ is the only hope for me now.
Three weeks. A lot has happened in three weeks. There's so much good that has come out of a really bad situation that it's impossible to deny God's hand in it. From what I've heard, two people have accepted Christ as a result of Mrs. Marks' death. The classes at the high school are finally banding together, acting as each other's support pillars. The Ovilla students here at DBU have come together to support each other, and to pray for each other. The teachers have gathered around her husband and son to be there for them. People have come together all over the country to be a support for everyone grieving. And most of all, I can see it's effects in my own life. I have something spurring me on now... just to make her proud of me. I want to be an encouragement for the students at Ovilla (a place that I just wanted to get out of). I want to make her proud of the woman I have become, and proud of the woman I will become. If I can have half the impact in my lifetime that she had during her short 32 years on this planet, I will look at my life with no regrets.
Three weeks. Seems much longer for me. I feel like I've aged about a year in these three weeks. But it's a combination of a good aging and a bad aging. I think God has made me grow up more in the past three weeks. Death and the brevity of life are realities for me now. You know, when you're young, a lot of times you think you're invincible, that there's nothing in the world that can get you. A tiny little bacteria got Mrs. Marks. I'm not invincible. My life is short, a mist fading with the coming morning. I hadn't really faced that before. Oh sure, people I know have died before, but I was young then. It didn't affect me much. Mrs. Marks was only 12 years older than me. That's not a lot. God's sovereignty and power are realities for me now. I have to place my trust in Someone that knows a lot more than I do, and who is way more powerful than I am. I have to place my hope in something that I can't see. Believe me, I'm not using God as a crutch. When something like this happens, His control and His power are the only things that make sense. If I blame someone for this, it only makes me bitter and coldhearted. God is my life. God was her life.
I was digging through my garage a couple of weeks ago, about a week after she died. I found a letter that she wrote me on graduation. At the end of the letter was one of my favorite verses of all time. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 12:1-2) She ran the race marked out for her since the beginning of time. She fought the good fight and finished the race and kept the faith, and she's received her due reward. Now it's my turn. She was my track coach so I'll use a good track term. She's handed the baton off to me, and it's my turn to run the race. My only prayer is that I finish in a manner that she would be proud of, and in a way that would make my Father in heaven say to me the same words she heard when she stepped through that door: "Well done, good and faithful servant."
There's a huge void in my heart now, and I didn't even know that she had filled it. I was close with her while I was in high school (she was one of my absolute favorite teachers), but over the past couple of years, since I graduated, I didn't get to see her that much. I would always make sure I gave her a hug and talked with her a little bit whenever I went up to school, but those trips became fewer and more far between after last year.
The only place I can think of turning to is Jesus. I was thinking about it last night as I was trying to write a song for these three weeks. As empty as I feel, as pointless as this death seems, the only thing that I could think of saying to God was "Bring it on." I think somewhere in the back of my mind I realized last night that this storm makes me trust Him more. When nothing in my life makes sense, I know that this situation is growing me as a person and as a Christian. He's all I have left to hold onto, and I have to resolve that the wind and the rain is not going to loosen my grip on Him or His grip on me. His mercy and His grace are the only things that can make my heart whole again, but it's through that rain falling down on me that I am washed clean from all my grief and shame.
I can almost hear God saying to me what He said to Job: "Who are you to question My plan?" If I can't trust God in EVERY circumstance, my faith, my life, my salvation means nothing. God didn't call me to trust Him in just the good times. He called me to take up my cross daily and follow Him, leaving everything behind that I held dear. He said that narrow is the road that leads to eternal life. He promised that the road would get rocky at times, and that I would walk through the darkness where a million other voices would compete for my attention. But He also said that He would be a lamp for my feet and a light to my path. He promised that He would be the Prince of Peace, a Wonderful Counselor. He promised that nothing could ever pluck me out of His hand. He promised that He would never leave me or forsake me. And most of all, He said that death has no more victory, and the grave has no more claim on my life because Christ rose from the dead and is now seated at the right hand of God the Father. I believe those promises. It's the only place I can put my hope. Christ is the only hope for me now.
Three weeks. A lot has happened in three weeks. There's so much good that has come out of a really bad situation that it's impossible to deny God's hand in it. From what I've heard, two people have accepted Christ as a result of Mrs. Marks' death. The classes at the high school are finally banding together, acting as each other's support pillars. The Ovilla students here at DBU have come together to support each other, and to pray for each other. The teachers have gathered around her husband and son to be there for them. People have come together all over the country to be a support for everyone grieving. And most of all, I can see it's effects in my own life. I have something spurring me on now... just to make her proud of me. I want to be an encouragement for the students at Ovilla (a place that I just wanted to get out of). I want to make her proud of the woman I have become, and proud of the woman I will become. If I can have half the impact in my lifetime that she had during her short 32 years on this planet, I will look at my life with no regrets.
Three weeks. Seems much longer for me. I feel like I've aged about a year in these three weeks. But it's a combination of a good aging and a bad aging. I think God has made me grow up more in the past three weeks. Death and the brevity of life are realities for me now. You know, when you're young, a lot of times you think you're invincible, that there's nothing in the world that can get you. A tiny little bacteria got Mrs. Marks. I'm not invincible. My life is short, a mist fading with the coming morning. I hadn't really faced that before. Oh sure, people I know have died before, but I was young then. It didn't affect me much. Mrs. Marks was only 12 years older than me. That's not a lot. God's sovereignty and power are realities for me now. I have to place my trust in Someone that knows a lot more than I do, and who is way more powerful than I am. I have to place my hope in something that I can't see. Believe me, I'm not using God as a crutch. When something like this happens, His control and His power are the only things that make sense. If I blame someone for this, it only makes me bitter and coldhearted. God is my life. God was her life.
I was digging through my garage a couple of weeks ago, about a week after she died. I found a letter that she wrote me on graduation. At the end of the letter was one of my favorite verses of all time. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." (Hebrews 12:1-2) She ran the race marked out for her since the beginning of time. She fought the good fight and finished the race and kept the faith, and she's received her due reward. Now it's my turn. She was my track coach so I'll use a good track term. She's handed the baton off to me, and it's my turn to run the race. My only prayer is that I finish in a manner that she would be proud of, and in a way that would make my Father in heaven say to me the same words she heard when she stepped through that door: "Well done, good and faithful servant."
Saturday, March 29, 2008
In Loving Memory
This past Wednesday, March 26, 2008, my beloved high school math teacher and long-time friend, J.J. Marks, went home to be with the Lord, along with her unborn little girl. J.J. died from complications with her pregnancy, which was 8 months along. She got a severe infection from strep, which spread through her whole body. Additionally, the placenta separated from the uterine wall, killing the baby. She wasn't feeling well Monday or Tuesday, and Tuesday night she started throwing up and hemorrhaging. She went to the doctor Wednesday morning and he couldn't detect a fetal heartbeat, so they took her in for an emergency C-section. When they opened her up for the surgery, her blood pressure plummeted, and they found a massive infection that had spread throughout her whole body. They couldn't do anything for her. Her husband was in Mexico at the time on a mission trip, and they flew him back over the border. From what I heard, he didn't know about J.J. when he landed.
It's been tough for all of us that knew her and loved her. She was the only person I ever knew that could actually make calculus fun. I've known her practically my whole life. When I was little, she had my dad for a teacher in high school, and she babysat me a few times. At that time, I was absolutely obsessed with "Beauty and the Beast," and she gave me a huge "Beauty and the Beast" poster that hung in my room until I got into high school. At school, I always called her Mrs. Marks, but to me, inside, she was just J.J. My sixth grade track and basketball coach, the woman that would take me home every so often, the teacher that I got to beat at trivia my senior year of high school. I loved her so much... even though I didn't always show it very well. And I know she loved me too... which is what makes this so hard.
She impacted a lot of people in her short time on earth (she was only 32 when she died). A bunch of my friends and I got together and swapped stories about her. I wish I could remember more. She was fun, sarcastic, crazy, cool, smart... and most of all she loved the Lord.
This time has been especially hard for her family, her mom and dad and sister, and especially her husband and young son Jonathan (who is only 3). Jonathan doesn't understand what's happening, and he's not going to have many memories of his mother.
The funeral was today. They had it at First Baptist Dallas, where she went to church. The crazy thing is, that place was completely packed out with students, friends, family... and it's a big sanctuary. At the viewing last night, it took 4 hours to get everyone through the line. That's how much she impacted those of us that knew her.
It's still hard to believe she's gone. At the viewing last night, I kept expecting her to pop up and say "Surprise! Just kidding!" But she didn't. And it's taking some time to process everything. I feel like I've been in a fog or flying on autopilot for the past three days, ever since I found out Wednesday night. She was so young, so full of life, so in love with her husband and son and Savior, and so dedicated to her students. She would tutor some of the people that graduated with me in their calculus and math classes, and she offered to tutor me in statistics last semester. I cared about her so much. Yesterday at the viewing, her husband saw me walk in and grabbed me in a big bear hug, and told me that she thought the world of me. Today at the graveside service, Jeanie (her sister) handed me a rose from the coffin and told me that she would have wanted me to have it. Her mom grabbed me in a big hug and told me that J.J. loved me so much. All these things keep rolling around in my head... and it's so hard to process it.
I know that she's with Jesus. She gets to see every day what I only long to see, and what I can only dream about. She gets to worship her Savior all day long, for all eternity. I know she wouldn't want us to be sad, because she's not sad. She's free from pain and suffering and whiny students that complain about calculus. And she finally knows how much she was loved. Heaven got a little sweeter on Wednesday when she and that gorgeous little Tanya showed up at the door. I know that I can rest my hope in the fact that I will see her again someday, and she'll be there to greet me when I go up there. It only makes me long for heaven that much more.
Please, be in prayer for her husband and son. He's really strong now, but he will probably have his breakdown pretty soon. Her parents and sister need your prayers too. Be especially in prayer for her students and the teachers and administration at OCS as they try to deal with this loss. I heard some of the students won't even go into her classroom. It caught everyone off guard... and everyone is trying to grieve now.
I found this verse on Thursday when I was still trying to process everything, and I want to leave you with it. "When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."- Psalm 34:17-18.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Eretz Israel
I spent Spring Break in the "Holy Land", the land of the Bible, of Jesus and His disciples, of a unique history and tradition. It was absolutely amazing. It's hard to describe the trip to someone that didn't go, because God taught us all something unique while we were there. I guess, I can just suffice to say that it was amazing. Awesome. Inspiring. Incredible. Once-in-a-lifetime.
Friday afternoon we boarded a flight to Atlanta to catch our connecting flight to Tel-Aviv. Our flight from Dallas was delayed for about an hour and a half, so when we finally landed in Atlanta we had about 30 minutes to get to our flight. Which was, of course, on the other end of the airport. Four terminals away. And, of course, when we landed our arrival gate was taken, so we had to wait for about 15 minutes on the tarmac for another gate to open. When the door finally open, we dashed out of the plane and literally ran down the hall, our carry-on bags swinging behind us. Our gate was at the far end of the terminal, so we ran down the hall to the escalator and barely hopped the train to the next terminals. We finally reached Terminal E, where our connecting flight was, and we sprinted up the escalator, huffing and puffing along the way. The airline sent 2 carts for us, so we all hopped on one, but our combined body weight was too much for it. The cart scraped bottom several times before it just stopped at the end of our hall, and our gate was at the other end of the hall. We said, "It's okay, we'll just run from here," and jumped out of the cart and sprinted to the end of the hall. Fortunately, all of us made it in one piece, and we settled down for the 12-hour plane ride.
We landed in Tel Aviv at about 8 p.m., Israel time, almost 1 p.m. Dallas time. We deboarded the plane and made our way through security (Israeli security is insane) to passport control. When I got up there, they asked me a bunch of questions and then made me wait next to the booth. The lady took my passport and boarding pass and handed it to another security guard, who made me wait in a room next to a huge computer room. By this time, I was confused, scared, tired, in a lousy mood, and all I wanted to do was go to bed. I sat down and watched the soccer game on the television in the corner, and two other ladies came in and sat opposite me. They started talking, and I finally figured out that it was because we had military connections. About 10 minutes later, they came back and handed me my passport and a gate pass. I said "Thank you," grabbed my bag and walked out the door. When I met everyone on the other side of the gate, they all cheered for me and handed me my checked luggage. Everyone asked me if I was okay, and I think they saw in my face that I was pretty freaked out. The whole time I had tried hard not to cry, and finally, the tears started coming down my face, which embarrassed me even more! But then everything was okay, and we headed out on our tour. And I will never, ever forget it.
It's hard to describe exactly where we went because we pretty much went everywhere. We visited Nazareth, Bet She'an, Megiddo, Caesarea Philippi, the Jordan River, pretty much every major site in Jerusalem, the Dead Sea, Masada, Qumran, Capernaum... and that's just off the top of my head. It was amazing to be able to walk in the places that Jesus walked, to see some of the things that He saw. It was so cool to kneel in the Garden of Gethsemane, listening to the sounds of traffic and realizing that Jesus suffered so much in that garden for my sin, and even if I was the only one in the world that needed it, He still would have done it because He loves me and because through His sacrifice, my life now is supposed to glorify God. It was surreal to walk into the Garden Tomb and see that He's not there, because He rose in victory over death. It was sobering to walk through the Holocaust Museum and see all the horrible, unspeakable things that Hitler did to the Jews. It was awesome to sit at the Church of the Beatitudes, and imagine what it would have been like to hear Jesus speaking the Sermon on the Mount.
One of my favorite parts of the trip was to be able to see how the Israelis live now. I think sometimes as Americans we view Israel as this ancient land, and people still live like they did in the time of Christ. But that's not true at all. Jerusalem and Tel-Aviv, in particular, are very modern cities. Their citizens take buses to their jobs, or they have cable and running hot water, or they have satellite, and they have cell phones. The only ones that don't necessarily have some of this stuff are the Orthodox Jews, and even then they are very modern.
I also liked being able to see them live out their culture and beliefs. When we were in Jerusalem, we saw several bar-mitzvahs at the Wailing Wall, and we even saw one party in our hotel. They were dancing and laughing, and really having a blast. And the party went on for hours. It was so cool... and we really wanted to join in, but I don't think they would have appreciated it too much. The craziest thing was being there on Shabbat, or Sabbath. When I woke up on Saturday, I looked out the window to observe what was going on down there, and I didn't see a thing. No cars, no people... just empty streets. It was so cool. They take the command to keep the Sabbath holy seriously. Most shops closed Friday afternoon around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. Sometimes I wish we took our holy days that seriously.
Another thing that was really cool was seeing that, in reality, Israel and the places where Jesus walked are just ordinary places. Nazareth was really nothing special. The Sea of Galilee was just a regular lake (though it was absolutely beautiful). Jerusalem, with all its rich history, was just a city like Washington, D.C., or Rome. The thing that made them special was the fact that Jesus was there, and the fact that God did something extraordinary. My friend John and I were talking when we got back (it was him that really made me think about this), and he said that it really made him think about what that means in our lives. The Bible is full of examples of God taking ordinary, fallen men and turning them into something extraordinary to fulfill His purposes. If God can do that with a place like Israel, or people like Peter or John or Gideon, He can certainly do that with me.
It also hit me pretty hard how much they have had to struggle for their survival as a nation. When we traveled north to Caesarea Philippi, we passed through mine fields and bombed-out villages near the border with Lebanon, remains from the war a couple of years ago with Hezbollah. Then in Jerusalem, we passed the hill where the paratroopers landed in 1967 in the Six Day War and pushed the Jordanians out of Jerusalem and eventually most of Israel. We passed three layers of barbed wire fences on the border with the West Bank area, and our guide said that they have regular armed patrols there. On the Temple Mount itself, guards stood in full riot gear with M-16s and Uzis. Then in the Holocaust Museum, we saw how Hitler cut deep into the flesh of the Jewish people when he murdered 6 million people, including 1.5 million children. It's a huge blow to realize how much Satan has been after the Jews in the past 2,000 years since Christ ascended into heaven. Since coming into existence in 1948, they have been in constant war. That's nearly 60 years of war. And yet, God continues to perform miracles in their nation, especially in the Six Day War.
The thing that God did the most with me, however, was show me the passion He feels for Israel. While I was there, it really hit me hard that I am "grafted into" the kingdom. Israel is God's chosen people. He revealed Himself through them, Jesus revealed Himself through them, and He is their Messiah. Jesus Himself said that He came to the Jews, so that they don't have to live under the law anymore. It's only through His grace that He allows the Gentiles to come into His kingdom, to be grafted in. I think a lot of times the church in particular forgets about this aspect. While I was there, I read Romans 9-11, where Paul talks about his passion for the Jews to come to a saving knowledge of Jesus. And for the first time in my life, I really felt that passion, that desire to see them finally recognize their Messiah, the one that came for them. For the first time, I realized that I have been taken from where I naturally belong and grafted into the Root of Jesse, a place that belonged to the Jews in the first place. I think many times I've been arrogant to them, thinking "They rejected Christ, so they're nothing really special." But it's not true at all. They are a very special people, chosen by God to do a great work in the world. It is undeniable that God still has His hand on them today. And, for once, I was really glad to be put in my place.
I've been back in the States now for a couple of weeks, and I must say I miss Israel like crazy. I miss being able to wake up and see the Orthodox Jews hurrying to work or school. I miss looking out over the Dead Sea from the heights of Masada. I miss looking out over the city of Tel-Aviv and seeing the Mediterranean crash on the soft sand. I miss being on the Sea of Galilee and imagining what it would have been like to see Jesus walking toward me on water. But I've enjoyed having a new perspective on the Middle East, and finding articles and books on the Six Day War and how to talk to Jews about Christ. The images I saw and the lessons I learned will stay with me forever.
Friday afternoon we boarded a flight to Atlanta to catch our connecting flight to Tel-Aviv. Our flight from Dallas was delayed for about an hour and a half, so when we finally landed in Atlanta we had about 30 minutes to get to our flight. Which was, of course, on the other end of the airport. Four terminals away. And, of course, when we landed our arrival gate was taken, so we had to wait for about 15 minutes on the tarmac for another gate to open. When the door finally open, we dashed out of the plane and literally ran down the hall, our carry-on bags swinging behind us. Our gate was at the far end of the terminal, so we ran down the hall to the escalator and barely hopped the train to the next terminals. We finally reached Terminal E, where our connecting flight was, and we sprinted up the escalator, huffing and puffing along the way. The airline sent 2 carts for us, so we all hopped on one, but our combined body weight was too much for it. The cart scraped bottom several times before it just stopped at the end of our hall, and our gate was at the other end of the hall. We said, "It's okay, we'll just run from here," and jumped out of the cart and sprinted to the end of the hall. Fortunately, all of us made it in one piece, and we settled down for the 12-hour plane ride.
We landed in Tel Aviv at about 8 p.m., Israel time, almost 1 p.m. Dallas time. We deboarded the plane and made our way through security (Israeli security is insane) to passport control. When I got up there, they asked me a bunch of questions and then made me wait next to the booth. The lady took my passport and boarding pass and handed it to another security guard, who made me wait in a room next to a huge computer room. By this time, I was confused, scared, tired, in a lousy mood, and all I wanted to do was go to bed. I sat down and watched the soccer game on the television in the corner, and two other ladies came in and sat opposite me. They started talking, and I finally figured out that it was because we had military connections. About 10 minutes later, they came back and handed me my passport and a gate pass. I said "Thank you," grabbed my bag and walked out the door. When I met everyone on the other side of the gate, they all cheered for me and handed me my checked luggage. Everyone asked me if I was okay, and I think they saw in my face that I was pretty freaked out. The whole time I had tried hard not to cry, and finally, the tears started coming down my face, which embarrassed me even more! But then everything was okay, and we headed out on our tour. And I will never, ever forget it.
It's hard to describe exactly where we went because we pretty much went everywhere. We visited Nazareth, Bet She'an, Megiddo, Caesarea Philippi, the Jordan River, pretty much every major site in Jerusalem, the Dead Sea, Masada, Qumran, Capernaum... and that's just off the top of my head. It was amazing to be able to walk in the places that Jesus walked, to see some of the things that He saw. It was so cool to kneel in the Garden of Gethsemane, listening to the sounds of traffic and realizing that Jesus suffered so much in that garden for my sin, and even if I was the only one in the world that needed it, He still would have done it because He loves me and because through His sacrifice, my life now is supposed to glorify God. It was surreal to walk into the Garden Tomb and see that He's not there, because He rose in victory over death. It was sobering to walk through the Holocaust Museum and see all the horrible, unspeakable things that Hitler did to the Jews. It was awesome to sit at the Church of the Beatitudes, and imagine what it would have been like to hear Jesus speaking the Sermon on the Mount.
One of my favorite parts of the trip was to be able to see how the Israelis live now. I think sometimes as Americans we view Israel as this ancient land, and people still live like they did in the time of Christ. But that's not true at all. Jerusalem and Tel-Aviv, in particular, are very modern cities. Their citizens take buses to their jobs, or they have cable and running hot water, or they have satellite, and they have cell phones. The only ones that don't necessarily have some of this stuff are the Orthodox Jews, and even then they are very modern.
I also liked being able to see them live out their culture and beliefs. When we were in Jerusalem, we saw several bar-mitzvahs at the Wailing Wall, and we even saw one party in our hotel. They were dancing and laughing, and really having a blast. And the party went on for hours. It was so cool... and we really wanted to join in, but I don't think they would have appreciated it too much. The craziest thing was being there on Shabbat, or Sabbath. When I woke up on Saturday, I looked out the window to observe what was going on down there, and I didn't see a thing. No cars, no people... just empty streets. It was so cool. They take the command to keep the Sabbath holy seriously. Most shops closed Friday afternoon around 3 or 4 in the afternoon. Sometimes I wish we took our holy days that seriously.
Another thing that was really cool was seeing that, in reality, Israel and the places where Jesus walked are just ordinary places. Nazareth was really nothing special. The Sea of Galilee was just a regular lake (though it was absolutely beautiful). Jerusalem, with all its rich history, was just a city like Washington, D.C., or Rome. The thing that made them special was the fact that Jesus was there, and the fact that God did something extraordinary. My friend John and I were talking when we got back (it was him that really made me think about this), and he said that it really made him think about what that means in our lives. The Bible is full of examples of God taking ordinary, fallen men and turning them into something extraordinary to fulfill His purposes. If God can do that with a place like Israel, or people like Peter or John or Gideon, He can certainly do that with me.
It also hit me pretty hard how much they have had to struggle for their survival as a nation. When we traveled north to Caesarea Philippi, we passed through mine fields and bombed-out villages near the border with Lebanon, remains from the war a couple of years ago with Hezbollah. Then in Jerusalem, we passed the hill where the paratroopers landed in 1967 in the Six Day War and pushed the Jordanians out of Jerusalem and eventually most of Israel. We passed three layers of barbed wire fences on the border with the West Bank area, and our guide said that they have regular armed patrols there. On the Temple Mount itself, guards stood in full riot gear with M-16s and Uzis. Then in the Holocaust Museum, we saw how Hitler cut deep into the flesh of the Jewish people when he murdered 6 million people, including 1.5 million children. It's a huge blow to realize how much Satan has been after the Jews in the past 2,000 years since Christ ascended into heaven. Since coming into existence in 1948, they have been in constant war. That's nearly 60 years of war. And yet, God continues to perform miracles in their nation, especially in the Six Day War.
The thing that God did the most with me, however, was show me the passion He feels for Israel. While I was there, it really hit me hard that I am "grafted into" the kingdom. Israel is God's chosen people. He revealed Himself through them, Jesus revealed Himself through them, and He is their Messiah. Jesus Himself said that He came to the Jews, so that they don't have to live under the law anymore. It's only through His grace that He allows the Gentiles to come into His kingdom, to be grafted in. I think a lot of times the church in particular forgets about this aspect. While I was there, I read Romans 9-11, where Paul talks about his passion for the Jews to come to a saving knowledge of Jesus. And for the first time in my life, I really felt that passion, that desire to see them finally recognize their Messiah, the one that came for them. For the first time, I realized that I have been taken from where I naturally belong and grafted into the Root of Jesse, a place that belonged to the Jews in the first place. I think many times I've been arrogant to them, thinking "They rejected Christ, so they're nothing really special." But it's not true at all. They are a very special people, chosen by God to do a great work in the world. It is undeniable that God still has His hand on them today. And, for once, I was really glad to be put in my place.
I've been back in the States now for a couple of weeks, and I must say I miss Israel like crazy. I miss being able to wake up and see the Orthodox Jews hurrying to work or school. I miss looking out over the Dead Sea from the heights of Masada. I miss looking out over the city of Tel-Aviv and seeing the Mediterranean crash on the soft sand. I miss being on the Sea of Galilee and imagining what it would have been like to see Jesus walking toward me on water. But I've enjoyed having a new perspective on the Middle East, and finding articles and books on the Six Day War and how to talk to Jews about Christ. The images I saw and the lessons I learned will stay with me forever.
Monday, February 18, 2008
God of This City
It's amazing how God moves. This past weekend was an incredibly shortened version of Passion 2007, which was absolutely awesome. Definitely an experience I'll never forget. And as much as I thought this year could be forgettable, it won't be. That'll teach me to limit the Holy Spirit.
Over the past couple of weeks I've really been struggling. My joy in the Lord had gone through a, well, weak phase. I'd fallen into a routine of doing "Christian" things. I'd read my Bible, or go to chapel, or sing... but it wasn't a passion that was burning in me. I missed that uncontrollable fire, that all-consuming desire to know God more and to worship Him on a deeper, more intimate level. On top of that, I got distracted by--you guessed it-- a boy (can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em, apparently). Don't get me wrong; if anything, by being friends with this boy, I've had to reexamine much of what I've believed in my whole life, because he challenges me to think beyond what I've been taught. But instead of thinking much about God, I've been thinking about him.
Last week, I was presented with the most troubling question for my DCM class. "Who are you?" To be honest, I couldn't figure that out. I've been taught my entire life that I have no identity outside of Christ, that His child is who I am and all I need to be. And for a while, that was okay with me (and for the record, it still is). But I wanted to know who I really am, taking Christ out of the equation.
I saw that this weekend. I'm different. I'm a radical, because I believe in something higher and better than I am. I've been changed by the blood of the Lamb. I'm a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come. The songs spoke to me-- Jesus makes all things glorious, and He remade me. So that makes me glorious. I want to be different. I don't want to have an identity away from Christ, because He is my life-giver. I want to forever be known as His child.
You want to know what I am, taking Christ out of the equation? I'm nothing. I'm nothing even with Christ in the equation, because He is everything, but His residence in me at least makes me something. But without Him... my life is worthless, meaningless existence. No joy, no love, no compassion, no companionship... absolutely and completely nothing. It's a scary thought for me, being without Christ. Maybe that's why it's a good thing that my identity is so deeply in Him.
And guess what else I learned (I know, as if there could be more after that earth-shattering revelation)? IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT ME! All of this is not about me. It's not about my new life. It's not about my glory. It's about Him. Everything that I do, everything that I dream, everything that I am is God and God alone. And I can say that, coming out of one of the worst storms of my young life, I'm glad that it's not all about me, because I have failed time and time again (if you need proof, just look at my life the past couple of weeks).
Passion, for me, was a chance to renew what I found last year. I wanted that fire, that (hah!) passion, that desire I had found. Well, I found it. And it was beautiful.
Over the past couple of weeks I've really been struggling. My joy in the Lord had gone through a, well, weak phase. I'd fallen into a routine of doing "Christian" things. I'd read my Bible, or go to chapel, or sing... but it wasn't a passion that was burning in me. I missed that uncontrollable fire, that all-consuming desire to know God more and to worship Him on a deeper, more intimate level. On top of that, I got distracted by--you guessed it-- a boy (can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em, apparently). Don't get me wrong; if anything, by being friends with this boy, I've had to reexamine much of what I've believed in my whole life, because he challenges me to think beyond what I've been taught. But instead of thinking much about God, I've been thinking about him.
Last week, I was presented with the most troubling question for my DCM class. "Who are you?" To be honest, I couldn't figure that out. I've been taught my entire life that I have no identity outside of Christ, that His child is who I am and all I need to be. And for a while, that was okay with me (and for the record, it still is). But I wanted to know who I really am, taking Christ out of the equation.
I saw that this weekend. I'm different. I'm a radical, because I believe in something higher and better than I am. I've been changed by the blood of the Lamb. I'm a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come. The songs spoke to me-- Jesus makes all things glorious, and He remade me. So that makes me glorious. I want to be different. I don't want to have an identity away from Christ, because He is my life-giver. I want to forever be known as His child.
You want to know what I am, taking Christ out of the equation? I'm nothing. I'm nothing even with Christ in the equation, because He is everything, but His residence in me at least makes me something. But without Him... my life is worthless, meaningless existence. No joy, no love, no compassion, no companionship... absolutely and completely nothing. It's a scary thought for me, being without Christ. Maybe that's why it's a good thing that my identity is so deeply in Him.
And guess what else I learned (I know, as if there could be more after that earth-shattering revelation)? IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT ME! All of this is not about me. It's not about my new life. It's not about my glory. It's about Him. Everything that I do, everything that I dream, everything that I am is God and God alone. And I can say that, coming out of one of the worst storms of my young life, I'm glad that it's not all about me, because I have failed time and time again (if you need proof, just look at my life the past couple of weeks).
Passion, for me, was a chance to renew what I found last year. I wanted that fire, that (hah!) passion, that desire I had found. Well, I found it. And it was beautiful.
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