"What, therefore, is our task today? Should I answer 'Faith, hope and love?' That sounds beautiful. But I would say - courage. No, even that is not challenging enough to be the whole truth. Our task today is recklessness. For what we Christians lack is not psychology or literature... we lack a holy rage - the recklessness which comes from the knowledge of God and humanity. The ability to rage when justice lies prostrate on the streets, and when the lie rages across the face of the earth... a holy anger about the things that are wrong in the world. To rage against the ravaging of God's earth and and the destruction of God's people. To rage when little children must die of hunger, while the tables of the rich are sagging with food. To rage at the senseless killing of so many, and the madness of militaries. To rage against the lie that calls the threat of death and the strategy of destruction peace. To rage against COMPLACENCY. To restlessly seek that recklessness that will challenge and seek to change human history until it conforms to the norms of the kingdom of God."
-Kaj Munk, 1944, killed by the Gestapo soon after
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Cultural Training and Virginia Adventures
As many of you know, I have spent the past month doing cultural training in Virginia. There are many people here who are preparing to go to many different countries, so I have had diverse "cultural experiences," not just having to do with Asia (and I guess the earthquake today could count as one!).
First of all, this state is beautiful! Here is a view right outside where I'm staying:
First of all, this state is beautiful! Here is a view right outside where I'm staying:
Gorgeous, right? Virginia is so green! I'm hoping that some of the rain will make its way to Texas too. Also, I'm really enjoying the wild "Christmas trees" everywhere. I wish I could be here during Christmas time so I could decorate them.
In addition, there are TONS of cicadas here. Cicadas are sometimes called "locusts" in the south, but real locusts are in fact nasty giant grasshoppers. What we often call a locust (a big bug that sheds its shell) is actually a cicada. We've been finding shells all over the place, and when they emerge they're a really bright green! It's fascinating to watch them turn brown again within a matter of minutes once they emerge. Here's a nasty close-up picture for you:
This fella was trying to get into the door one night. He didn't succeed, but it was crazy watching him try. He was making so much noise banging against the windows, I seriously thought someone was knocking outside! I've also seen a giant moth the size of my fist. THAT was disgusting. Can you imagine squishing him? He had a big hairy body in between inches-long brown wings. *shudder*
In addition to some of nature's less desirable creatures, I have also seen some really cute ones! There are lots of chipmunks here, and it's fun to watch them scamper around. I also saw a groundhog, also known as a woodchuck, the other day, but alas, he dove into his hole before I could get a good look at him. Here is a picture of his abode though:
And did I mention that in addition to all this lovely scenery, I have actually been broadening my global perspective? Why yes indeed! So far, I have learned songs in Spanish, Arabic, Tagalog, Ilocano, Burmese, Bahasa, and Hindi, and I have a lot more learning ahead. This week I am learning about Africa. In addition, I have eaten borscht for the first time (which was delicious!! I could eat it a lot more often), and also some food with meatballs and this salsa-like stuff that you use bread to pick up (not sure which region of the world it was from), and yesterday I had some really authentic-tasting Indian food! I also had to eat it with naan as opposed to a fork, and when that was gone I had to use my right hand to eat the rest! I think my hand still smells a bit like Indian spices even after multiple washings, but it's okay because it was so good.
And now, for the final cultural experience. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there is a squatty potty here:
The water pressure is a little too high, so I have to run away immediately after I flush it so the water doesn't shoot out at me! But you know, I have to get used to all different kinds of toilet experiences. I remember when I was in Tokyo, they had western-style toilets that if you hit a wrong button would shoot a jet of water...um..."upwards."
I think it really says something about the types of people who are here that every time I'm in the bathroom, the squatty is the first one to be occupied! People really want to broaden their horizons and are very open to new (maybe even uncomfortable to a western mind) experiences.
I've also gone rock climbing! It was only my second time, so I'm not very good at it yet, but it was really fun! I will leave you with a couple of epic pictures that my friend Sara took, to give you the illusion that I am actually an awesome rock climber:
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Up on a Mountainside
He went up on a mountainside.
He got alone with the Father.
Matthew 5 doesn't actually start with "Blessed are...." It starts with Jesus fleeing the crowds so he can be with the Father: "Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down." By this point in his ministry, Jesus had swarms of people chasing after him, longing to see more miracles and hear more words of wisdom. Many popular preachers today hunger for these crowds and bask in their approval, but Jesus did not do anything for the approval of man. Not only this, but he realized that he could not keep spending himself and spending himself without taking that quiet time up on a mountainside.
If even Jesus felt that desperate longing to be alone and spend such sweet time with the Father before he taught his disciples, who are we to think we can get by without it?
More importantly, and cutting at the heart issue, why do we want to get by without it?
Far too often I measure my success and worth by the response of other people to me, not the response of God to me. I, though nothing but dust, spend most of my time seeking the approval of other dust...but all of us will be swept away. The fellowship of God is eternal, and it is more intimate than I could ever know with a person.
I have been learning lately just how precious this intimacy is. I love people, but sometimes I get this feeling that "many words are meaningless" and instead I just want to "stand in awe of God" (Ecclesiastes 5:7). I've found lately that I absolutely cannot love people well and live the day well if I don't allow myself to have this time away with him. It doesn't even have to have a particular purpose; I don't need to be seeking anything; I just want to be with the lover of my soul. Like the disciples, I want to climb the mountainside and find Jesus so we can just spend time with each other, alone, away from the crowds. Away from the calculating eyes of people, and alone with him where my soul can breathe and where he can teach me.
Find your mountainside.
Friday, July 22, 2011
He calls us by name.
"But now, thus says the Lord, who created you, O Jacob, And he who formed you, O Israel: 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are mine." Isaiah 43:1-2
I was reminded the other day just how powerful it is to insert our own names in Bible passages. He knows your name, He knows every detail of your body and how it works, and even crazier, He knows every little corner of your mind - what makes you happy or sad, what brings you peace or unrest. But I think sometimes it's easy to forget that He has reached down and specifically called us, or that He specifically speaks to us, not only to his general creation. Sometimes by putting our own names in Bible verses, it can increase the intimacy of comforting words of the Lord, and it can also increase the conviction of corrective words of the Lord.
A couple of passages that have struck me:
"For God knew Becky in advance, and he chose her to become like his Son, so that his Son would have her as a sister. Having chosen Becky, he called her to come to him. He gave Becky right standing with himself and promised her his glory... If God is for Becky, who can ever be against her? Since God did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for Becky, won't God...also give her everything else?" Romans 8:29-32
Sometimes I forget that God chose me. He invited, yes, but He also came after me. He rescued me. And I forget that God is literally a shield standing between me and anything that might try to hurt me without His permission. And Jesus gave his life for me, so that I might in turn lose mine and trade it in for something far better.
"If Becky speaks in the tongues of men or of angels, but has not love, she is only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If Becky has the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if she has a faith that can move mountains, but does not have love, she is nothing. If she gives all she possesses to the poor and gives her body over to hardship that she may boast, but does not have love, she gains nothing." 1 Corinthians 13:1-3
If you wanted to get even more convicting with that second passage, you could challenge yourself this way. In the part that reads "Love is patient, love is kind...," instead insert your name: "____is patient, ____ is kind..." etc., and then honestly read it and ask yourself which of those statements makes you cringe the most because it is just that untrue. I've done it a couple of times, and each time God shows me some aspect of love that I need to work on. For instance, this is passage, along with the book of James, is how God first showed me I needed to work on "easily angered!"
Why don't you give this a try today in your time with God? Let God show you a passage and allow him to personalize it for you. Let him speak to you by name.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
"An Unlikely Route to Joy"
from Jackie Kendall's blog
July Hope Alert
Whenever I have read about deportation (person or persons expelled from their homes or country), I would never consider it to be a good thing. This morning I was reading about the deportation of two particular Jews, Aquila and Priscilla. Claudius Caesar had first ruled that the Jews were not allowed to have "meetings" and then he decided to expel them from Rome. So being deported from their home and country, Aquila and Priscilla end up in Corinth. Little did these two tentmakers know that their expulsion was "an unlikely route to joy." They not only had Paul the Apostle as a part time tentmaker with them; they were also invited to be part of the Traveling Gospel Team.
"Then Paul left Athens and went to Corinth. There he became acquainted with a Jew named Aquila, born in Pontus, who had recently arrived from Italy with his wife, Priscilla. They had left Italy when Claudius Caesar deported all Jews from Rome. Paul lived and worked with them, for they were tentmakers just as he was."(Acts 18:1-3)
Oh that we as God's kids would have the attitude that our "deportations" from what we love: hometown, job, church, or friends, are chances for us to see God's brilliant maneuvering of our lives into a place where He will receive even more glory. Rather than resisting change or resenting the upheaval of your life, why not look forward to seeing who or what God may bring into your life walk during your expulsion from your comfort zone. When Aquila and Priscilla were packing up there life because of a "cruel expulsion," they had no idea, apart from God's faithfulness, what lay ahead during their forced relocation.
Trusting God with "deportation" from comfort and security is a chance for making the canyon of pain into a megaphone to proclaim the ultimate goodness of God."
I have been reading the Bible for 44 years and I have always admired the "tag team" of Aquila and Priscilla. Not until this morning did I realize that through an "evil deportation" God brought such good into their lives. Aquila and Priscilla deportation reminds us again to keep whatever comes into our lives in the "context" of God's ever present capacity to take what is intended for evil and bring about good (Gen.50:20).
July Hope Alert
Whenever I have read about deportation (person or persons expelled from their homes or country), I would never consider it to be a good thing. This morning I was reading about the deportation of two particular Jews, Aquila and Priscilla. Claudius Caesar had first ruled that the Jews were not allowed to have "meetings" and then he decided to expel them from Rome. So being deported from their home and country, Aquila and Priscilla end up in Corinth. Little did these two tentmakers know that their expulsion was "an unlikely route to joy." They not only had Paul the Apostle as a part time tentmaker with them; they were also invited to be part of the Traveling Gospel Team.
"Then Paul left Athens and went to Corinth. There he became acquainted with a Jew named Aquila, born in Pontus, who had recently arrived from Italy with his wife, Priscilla. They had left Italy when Claudius Caesar deported all Jews from Rome. Paul lived and worked with them, for they were tentmakers just as he was."(Acts 18:1-3)
Oh that we as God's kids would have the attitude that our "deportations" from what we love: hometown, job, church, or friends, are chances for us to see God's brilliant maneuvering of our lives into a place where He will receive even more glory. Rather than resisting change or resenting the upheaval of your life, why not look forward to seeing who or what God may bring into your life walk during your expulsion from your comfort zone. When Aquila and Priscilla were packing up there life because of a "cruel expulsion," they had no idea, apart from God's faithfulness, what lay ahead during their forced relocation.
Trusting God with "deportation" from comfort and security is a chance for making the canyon of pain into a megaphone to proclaim the ultimate goodness of God."
I have been reading the Bible for 44 years and I have always admired the "tag team" of Aquila and Priscilla. Not until this morning did I realize that through an "evil deportation" God brought such good into their lives. Aquila and Priscilla deportation reminds us again to keep whatever comes into our lives in the "context" of God's ever present capacity to take what is intended for evil and bring about good (Gen.50:20).
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Vision
So this guy comes up to me and says "what's the vision? What's the big idea?" I open my mouth and words come out like this… The vision?
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army. And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 little prisons. They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday. They wouldn't even notice. They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won. They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport.. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence. They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying. What is the vision ? The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation. It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games. This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause. A million times a day its soldiers choose to lose that they might one day win the great 'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!"
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing… This is the sound of the underground
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms. The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain".
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes. Winners. Martyrs. Who can stop them? Can hormones hold them back? Can failure succeed? Can fear scare them or death kill them?
And the generation prays
like a dying man with groans beyond talking, with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and with great barrel loads of laughter! Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive
inside.
On the outside? They hardly care. They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide. Would they surrender their image or their popularity? They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.) Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus. Their words make demons scream in shopping centres. Don't you hear them coming? Herald the weirdo's! Summon the losers and the freaks. Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes. They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension. Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon. How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God. My tomorrow is his today. My distant hope is his 3D. And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from hero's of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.
-- 24-7prayer.com
The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.
The vision is an army of young people.
You see bones? I see an army. And they are FREE from materialism.
They laugh at 9-5 little prisons. They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday. They wouldn't even notice. They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won. They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport.. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence. They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying. What is the vision ? The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.
Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation. It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games. This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause. A million times a day its soldiers choose to lose that they might one day win the great 'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.
Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!"
And this is the sound of the underground
The whisper of history in the making
Foundations shaking
Revolutionaries dreaming once again
Mystery is scheming in whispers
Conspiracy is breathing… This is the sound of the underground
And the army is discipl(in)ed.
Young people who beat their bodies into submission.
Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms. The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain".
Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes. Winners. Martyrs. Who can stop them? Can hormones hold them back? Can failure succeed? Can fear scare them or death kill them?
And the generation prays
like a dying man with groans beyond talking, with warrior cries, sulphuric tears and with great barrel loads of laughter! Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive
inside.
On the outside? They hardly care. They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide. Would they surrender their image or their popularity? They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.
With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days,
they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.) Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus. Their words make demons scream in shopping centres. Don't you hear them coming? Herald the weirdo's! Summon the losers and the freaks. Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes. They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension. Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.
And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon. How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God. My tomorrow is his today. My distant hope is his 3D. And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from hero's of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.
Guaranteed.
-- 24-7prayer.com
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
My "Spiritual Birthday"
I was going through old journals in my closet just now, sifting through things to throw out and keep. I began reading an old journal that I was required to keep for English class in eighth grade. The run-on sentences are embarrassing, I gotta be honest, and it was clear that I wasn't even trying.
That journal took me back to a different time and a different person, one who had little passion for school and yet a desire to prove her intelligence. One who was angry, sad, or confused all the time and yet didn't want to be. One who was angry at the state of the world and dreamed of changing it, yet only had the strength to spend hours playing computer games to escape it. These things had especially defined my life in sixth grade (oh early female adolescence, I do not miss you). I wasn't doing very well emotionally, spiritually, or academically, so I was supposed to live in Gail for only one year so I could get "straightened out." However, when that year was up and I went back to Jacksonville to continue my life, it just didn't feel right. I made a pro's and con's list of Jacksonville vs. Gail, talked to friends and family constantly, prayed...and finally asked Mom and Dad if I could return. They let me (which I realize now could have only been motivated by the truest kind of love in existence - when parents love their kids enough to let them go if that's what's best for them).
But when I got back to Gail, some things had changed. At the age of 13, I had just made a decision that would define the next 5 years (and, as it turned out, 9 years because I went to a Texas university) of my life, and I was afraid I'd gotten everything wrong. Those were some of the most painful months I have ever experienced to this day, that fall semester of 8th grade. And today I read a journal that honestly embarrassed me, and not just because of grammatical issues, until I got to this entry in which we were asked to share the best part of our life right now:
9/26/2002
The best part of my life right now is my newfound trust in Jesus, that he will help me through some rough things that are going on in my life right now. It just makes me feel so happy to wake up everyday and know that he will take care of me and that no matter how bad things are, there's a reason that they're happening, a reason so great I could never even imagine what it is. That helps me stay happy through the good and the bad.
Even though just a month earlier I'd made a decision that I thought was life-changing, this moment was the one that was truly life-changing. I didn't understand much at that point (even though I'd known all the Bible stories from a young age), I still had very little fruit of the Spirit in my life, and a lot of what I thought the Bible taught was misguided...but I understood the most important things, that Jesus loved me enough to have a perfect plan for my life if I would only trust him. That he was my savior, king, confidante, and guide...that he was the only way to Truth. This day wasn't the only turning point; each day is a turning point. Each day I am being saved from my sins and my flesh that wages war on my soul; each day I am being protected from a very real enemy and a very cruel world by nothing less than the one true God. But I'm glad to be reminded of when it really began, this beautiful passionate journey of living for Jesus and receiving the abundant life.
That journal took me back to a different time and a different person, one who had little passion for school and yet a desire to prove her intelligence. One who was angry, sad, or confused all the time and yet didn't want to be. One who was angry at the state of the world and dreamed of changing it, yet only had the strength to spend hours playing computer games to escape it. These things had especially defined my life in sixth grade (oh early female adolescence, I do not miss you). I wasn't doing very well emotionally, spiritually, or academically, so I was supposed to live in Gail for only one year so I could get "straightened out." However, when that year was up and I went back to Jacksonville to continue my life, it just didn't feel right. I made a pro's and con's list of Jacksonville vs. Gail, talked to friends and family constantly, prayed...and finally asked Mom and Dad if I could return. They let me (which I realize now could have only been motivated by the truest kind of love in existence - when parents love their kids enough to let them go if that's what's best for them).
But when I got back to Gail, some things had changed. At the age of 13, I had just made a decision that would define the next 5 years (and, as it turned out, 9 years because I went to a Texas university) of my life, and I was afraid I'd gotten everything wrong. Those were some of the most painful months I have ever experienced to this day, that fall semester of 8th grade. And today I read a journal that honestly embarrassed me, and not just because of grammatical issues, until I got to this entry in which we were asked to share the best part of our life right now:
9/26/2002
The best part of my life right now is my newfound trust in Jesus, that he will help me through some rough things that are going on in my life right now. It just makes me feel so happy to wake up everyday and know that he will take care of me and that no matter how bad things are, there's a reason that they're happening, a reason so great I could never even imagine what it is. That helps me stay happy through the good and the bad.
Even though just a month earlier I'd made a decision that I thought was life-changing, this moment was the one that was truly life-changing. I didn't understand much at that point (even though I'd known all the Bible stories from a young age), I still had very little fruit of the Spirit in my life, and a lot of what I thought the Bible taught was misguided...but I understood the most important things, that Jesus loved me enough to have a perfect plan for my life if I would only trust him. That he was my savior, king, confidante, and guide...that he was the only way to Truth. This day wasn't the only turning point; each day is a turning point. Each day I am being saved from my sins and my flesh that wages war on my soul; each day I am being protected from a very real enemy and a very cruel world by nothing less than the one true God. But I'm glad to be reminded of when it really began, this beautiful passionate journey of living for Jesus and receiving the abundant life.
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