"One thing ask from the LORD, this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple."
An hour ago, not one but TWO explosions occurred at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. Two were killed and more than 80 were injured. It's currently unknown if the explosions were accidental or planned by someone. Either way, my first thoughts: Why, Lord? I don't get it. How do we mend things like this?"
The answer: We don't. He does. He does everything. When we feel "broken," and recover from it, we are being made new. Our role is to respond in prayer, to respond in faithful obedience to the One who died so ALL people and all things could be made new.
"I know God has not forgotten all that's lost and broken
So come and see the turning of the tides.
Come and see His sons and daughters rise.
For how could He who did not spare His Son,
not freely give us victory against the darkest of nights?"
In the words of my friend Marc Nettleton, "This is not the way our world was supposed to be. Everything is broken. But that doesn't mean we ought to give up hope. In fact, these events make life and this world matter all the more. There's urgency. Because this is not the end. All of this. all the brokenness is going to be undone. It will be redeemed. It will be reconciled. It will be treated with absolute justice. And it is all the more urgent because everyone on this earth will give an account. An account that will either point to the Cross as our only hope. . . or will point to our self (and the pile of evidence proving our own culpability in creating all this brokenness)."
“Get yourself ready! Stand up and say to them whatever I command you. Do not be terrified by them, or I will terrify you before them. Today I have made you a fortified city, an iron pillar and a bronze wall to stand against the whole land—against the kings of Judah, its officials, its priests and the people of the land. They will fight against you but will not overcome you, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the Lord." - Jeremiah 1:17-19
One day, all will be unbroken. Things will be made right. This isn't a plea for world peace. It's a plea and prayer for restoration and complete rescue. Soon, the tabernacle will be here. God's dwelling place will be among men, again. We play a crucial part in restoration. By purging ourselves of what is killing us, our sin. By calling God's sons and daughters back. By reclaiming them for HIM. "Get ready..." Yahweh says, for He's making things new and is coming back.
"Behold, I am making things new...Behold, I am coming soon."-Jesus in Revelation 21:5, 22:7
Pray for Boston. Pray for those injured, for healing. Pray for understanding for the friends and families of the two victims killed.
Today was a weird day. In a good way. To make a long story short: I experienced anxiety for the 2nd time ever today. I don't mean the kind of anxiety that you feel when you have too much to do and have no idea how it's all going to get done. I mean the anxiety in which you feel constantly restless and unsettled without any reason. It confuses you and leaves you feeling really frustrated because no matter how hard you try...you can't figure out what's going on. You begin to feel really vulnerable...even crazy. Even after it all disappeared within a few hours, I found myself beginning to worry that the anxiety would return. Will I be free of this? Or will it continue? Weird, huh? The anxiety disappeared only to have me worry about it. I felt vulnerable and unsafe. Then I stumbled upon this song.
"I find that I'm safe and warm in your loving arms. You see me You know me You love me Through and through." I was so fixated on figuring out why I was anxious that I forgot that my God's deep love for me and desire to know me is my refuge in the midst of something confusing and frustrating like anxiety. The call to follow Jesus has no guarantee of safety (in fact it calls for the opposite, check out Matthew 10:16). Jesus does not promise safety...but he promises refuge. Refuge is a place where we can dwell and be kept from harm.
"In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." -Psalm 4:8
"You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance." -Psalm 32:7
"He is a shield for all who take refuge in him." -2 Samuel 22:31
"It is good to be near God." -Psalm 73:28
"Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him...The LORD redeems the life of his servants; none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned." -Psalm 34:8, 22
"In all circumstances, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one." - Ephesians 6:16
"The man who makes me his refuge will inherit the land and possess my holy mountain." - Isaiah 57:13
"The LORD will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen." -2 Timothy 4:18
These verses don't say "God will provide complete safety." They say "God is a shelter when life begins to throw unsafe things at you." These verses also don't say "God will be there for you when life gets hard." To say that is a direct slap in His face. It belittles Him! He's not just "there" for you. He's everywhere for you. He goes before you without leaving you behind. He guards you and watches you from behind without letting you get too far ahead of yourself. He's above you without being distant. He's Emmanuel, withyou while being everywhere else all at once. Jesus says "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28). He doesn't say "Come to me all who are weary and I'll take it all away." To grant rest to us during a tiring circumstance is not the same as taking it away. To take it away would be to give us the easy way out. How are we supposed to be made more like Christ without experiencing things He did?
"If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." -Luke 16:23
Jesus' cross was to carry our weight of sin. We will never have to carry that weight. He empathizes with me, with YOU in your sin because he already walked through the sin and took the blame for it.
"But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All like sheep we have gone astray; we have turned--every one--to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all." -Isaiah 53:5-6
Often, I try to comprehend what Jesus actually felt as he bore the weight of the world's sin by combining into one moment all the times I've ever felt guilt and shame. It makes me sick to my stomach to try to comprehend carrying the weight of sin for even one more person. My human nature would never be able to do that. But this is not about what I can or cannot do. It's about what Jesus has finished. It overwhelms me and literally brings me to tears that Jesus did that for everyone. I have a God...Jesus...who sees me, knows me and loves me through and through because he gets it. This is my God. He loves me through and through. Through bearing the weight of my sin, our sin. Through our idolization of people, things and places. Through our unfaithfulness. Through wanting to leave him because it's just too hard. Through our daily denial of Him. But he's loving us through all of it and waiting for us to return to the safety of His love and arms.
"Come, let us return to the LORD; for he has torn us, that he may heal us; he has struck down, and he will bind us up. After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will rise up, that we may life before him. Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth." -Hosea 6:1-3
Even when I'm frustrated and sad that I was invited to NINE weddings this summer, none of which are even close to being mine, I am not alone...because God is everywhere. Even when my sin seems beyond forgiveness, I am redeemed because of his blood shed on the cross. When my dream of being in East Asia seems out of reach, God is closer than my skin is to my bones. When I feel like I'll never be good enough, I am reminded that in Christ, I don't need to strive to be anything except what He says I am
In Christ, we are redeemed, loved, known and seen by God. Not because we did anything. But all because of his great love for us. This is safety. This is refuge and it is nothing that I need to look for. It's here. It's everywhere, because God is everywhere.
Read more...
This is an excerpt from a 30 minute documentary I just watched.
“Some come [home] with boldness and urgency, sensing their inherited place. Others stoop on bended knee, scarcely believing the invitation. Some bare wounds and enter with hesitance and faltering hope. But it is the coming home that matters most. This final step shared by all. Acceptance is found within undeserved and scandalous favor. It is within the dial up of pain that many beautiful things acquire their value. And it is through great pain and sacrifice that this home is fashioned. A table is set. And the places long ago prepared are finally filled. Words always known, finally understood. Returned prodigals from a disappointing land look around their former home and remember who they really are. Wandering hearts who have come home to be free.”
I'm encouraged and challenged by the work in Christ that Hillsong has accomplished. It's not about their music. Not about their pastors nor is it about how many Hillsong "campuses" exist worldwide. But it's about JESUS being known because the Spirit is REAL and dwells in the deepest parts of our sin-filled but redemption saturated souls and hearts. In Christ, we were all prodigal sons and daughters...called home to a Father awaiting to embrace us. Now we are called to extend the invitation to all others who have not yet found their prepared place at the table. God calls. We answer.
"Consequently, you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household,built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone.In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple in the Lord.And in him you too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit."-Ephesians 2:19-22
As many of you know, the Lord has placed a time of waiting in my life in
regards to full-time missions work overseas, specifically in East
Asia. Eleven days ago, after 4 years of waiting, I boarded a plane for this smoggy, crowded and devastatingly beautiful nation. I'll save stories and details for another time, but I will say that I, along with the 9 others I went with, got to experience what the Lord is doing in East Asia.
Four days ago, I boarded a plane to return home to Madison. Getting on a plane to leave this nation was the most painful thing I've experienced in a long time. I'm not comparing this pain to that of what follows with the death of a loved one or the heartbreak of a long relationship. It isn't the pain that you pray away...it's the pain that is synonymous with a holy anguish. This kind of pain sits at the core of my being and flutters at the mention or even thought of East Asia. It's as if the Lord has engraved this nation into the marrow of my bones, every neuron of my brain and every crevice of my broken life. It is a kind of pain that I never want to be healed and a love that I know will never be lost. It's pain that comes from Jesus and unconditional love that is a display of God's love for us.
As we settled onto the plane and it took off...it surprised me how numb I felt about leaving. I didn't cry, I didn't flinch and didn't experience sadness or anger or frustration. As soon as the seat belt light turned off, I read a bit and then watched a movie. But as I turned off the movie a few hours after take-off and put played music through my ipod, these words by Mumford and Sons hit me like the cold hits your lungs on a below zero winter day, "I will love with urgency but not with haste."
My numbness quickly turned into uncontrollable tears. This happened 3 separate times on the plane. This was not of me. The only explanation for it: Jesus. As I sit here, I still don't understand how it makes ANY sense that this is the nation my heart beats for. But I do understand that as I love East Asia, my God loves it more. That is why this holy anguish exists in me. Whether my "time" in East Asia is this next year, in 10 years or never...I will love with urgency but not with haste. I think about Jesus' words to the disicples before ascending into heaven:
“He [Jesus] said to them, ‘It is not for you to know times or seasons
that the Father has fixed by His own authority. But you will receive
power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my
witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of
the earth.”- Acts 1:7-8
I look at my past and my specific sin struggles (pride, selfishness, religiosity, sexual sin and immorality, jealousy, idolizing life and relationships over Jesus, etc) and wonder if it's those things that "qualify" me as a laborer for East Asia. I struggle with jealousy of my peers who are fearlessly serving in East Asia right now. How are they better than me? How can I become more like them? Can I go once I'm more like them?
This is a frustrating but real picture of human depravity. God's mission is about HIM, not me. Yet, my nature can so easily make this heart break and pain about me. God did not create people in East Asia so that my heart could break for them. He didn't create them so I would have a specific purpose within the Great Commission. He created them because they are His sons and daughters. They are his lost sons and daughters which we have been entrusted with. We, as Christ-followers, have been given the only means of life by which they can be called back home to their Father.
In the last four days, I've been re-living the 5 days I spent in East Asia and have clung to moments of joy because I have no idea when I'll be able to experience it again. I have idolized my experiences and the fruit that was born through those times. This reminds me of Jesus sending out the 72 (Luke 10). When the 72 are sent, they return rejoicing in the truth that even the demons submit to them. In other words, they took more joy in their successes in ministry before anything else. Jesus responds with this:
"I have given you authority to trample on snakes
and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy;
nothing will harm you.
However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you,
but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
Luke 10:19-20
My name is written in heaven. Another translation says it's written in the book of life. But it is only because of what Jesus did on the cross. He bore my shame and died a gruesome and painful death, both physically and spiritually so that my name could be written in the book of life. Why should I ever desire anything more than Jesus, Himself? Why should I ever rejoice more in the fruit of ministry more than the One who is the vine?
Tonight, a friend shared this quote with me from Lewis' "The Weight of Glory":
"These things [we long for]- the beauty,
the
memory of our own past-
are good images of what we really desire;
but if
they are mistaken for the thing itself,
they turn into dumb idols,
breaking the hearts of their worshippers.
For they are not the thing
itself;
they are only the scent of a flower we have not found,
the echo
of a tune we have not heard,
news from a country we have never yet
visited."
- CS Lewis
The reality is that what I long for is only a glimpse of my Creator's longing for East Asia...for my entire heart. Though I may falter to give Him all of me or surrender my future with East Asia to Him...He will never falter to relentlessly pursue me. In Him we live and move and have our being. Every breath I take as I write this is a gift from Him. Though I often attempt to pray it away, every tear I shed and every moment of pain and heartbreak for East Asia is from Him...which means it's good. So whether I return to East Asia tomorrow, next year or never...my God is surely God. Yahweh. Perfect. Author and Writer of my life and faith. Creator of my every nerve, cell, movement and moment of joy. To not live and move and breathe solely for the God who causes me to do so would be a mistake. Read more...
I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.
Psalm 27:13-14. These words have become the underlying theme of my unemployed and restless season of life. Life has been slow and somewhat mundane. Every day is starting to look and feel the same. It's neither good nor bad (though there are days when it's one or the other). But over all, it's neither good nor bad. I don't expect a flurry of events to bring excitement and busyness. I am not bored with God. Rather, I am impatient to see how His promises for my life will present itself right now. This, if it isn't clear enough already, is my selfish heart speaking. Why do I think I am entitled to see God's promises in my life? I don't know. But God makes a promise to me in His word:
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose - Romans 8:28-29
It's not that I feel I am being punished or deprived of anything. It's just easier to doubt God's promises when life circumstances tell you something different. Psalm 27 reminds me that I must wait. God is who He says He is. This means everyday...I have to choose to fight for confidence in what has been promised.
Yes, I'm confused and frustrated and lacking direction because any direction is out of my control. Yet, I feel that I am being prepared for something. I don't know what it is, obviously. It could bring an unbearable pain or joy beyond measure. It could be something completely random that could set off an incredibly beautiful chain of events. Whatever is coming, I know that God is asking me to wait and not rush what is going to be. What more does patience ask for than faith? Faith is confidence in the character of God...that He's who He says He is. There are days in when I believe He's who He claims to be. There are days when I don't because my perspective of God's faithfulness is clouded by my wavering emotions and impatience. The beautiful thing is that it doesn't matter how I may or may not feel because God does not change nor does He fail, regardless of what I believe He is doing. And by the grace of God, despite all of this, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is God in all things. Because of that...I have a reason, a purpose to be who He has called me to be: His daughter, His love, His vessel and ambassador.
He holds all things together. He is real and living. He's my Redeemer who promises victory. He's my Savior who took my punishment and freed me from the yoke of slavery. He's my God who did not spare His Son, but gave him for me...that I may know Him and His goodness. He keeps His promises and I will pray expectantly that I will see them...that I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
I will leave with what is becoming an anthem of my heart.
I believe the psalms put into words the cry of our hearts, whether in pain or joy. Many passages in the Bible give us a history of our faith or instruct us and encourage us to persevere and point us directly to Jesus. Yes, the psalms do this. But as I have read psalms, I feel as if I am reading 150 testimonies of how the Lord manifested Himself to these specific musicians.
A psalm is a song or poem sung or played with an instrument. Today, we read them but rarely think about how the writers sang it or played it on an instrument. The psalms show us that more often than not, these writers' responses to anything they experienced in life was to externally process through song. Whether David was rejoicing, mourning, or simply in awe of God...he praised God through music in some way, shape or form. Psalm 51's short commentary says "A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba." If you read this psalm, you can almost hear David weeping in remorse and repentance as he sings. Psalm 18 is David's musical response when He is delivered from the hand of Saul...someone who, out of jealousy, tried to kill David time and time again. His words are transparent and raw. They are real. He doesn't sugarcoat how He's feeling about God.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm a lot like David in his response to life. Obviously I'm not a royalty. I don't live in palace nor command thousands of troops or go to war every 10 minutes. But the Lord has placed in me a passion and yearning for music. He allows me to sit in my room and belt out worship songs until I lose my voice because this purges me of anger, fear and frustration. While I can't write lyrics, I can sit with my guitar for an hour and simply play chords and picking patterns because brings peace and serenity. I imagine this is what David when he could spare a moment because for him, music drew him close to the Lord. Maybe not with a guitar...lyre or harp perhaps?
Evan, my dear brother in Christ, believes that, "...the product of music, like prayer or laughter or a meal with friends, can bring understanding and healing." Check out his blog!
I couldn't agree more with Evan's words. For all of us, there is something that brings us so much life that it brings us to our knees. Something that leaves us feeling grateful and humbled.
Whether it's a song that causes us to shamelessly play air drums in a coffee shop or a movie score that leaves us only able to utter the words "soooo good," music stirs in us very real and lasting emotions we wouldn't otherwise experience in anything else. Whether you're shaking your head in complete unbelief of the mastery of sounds in Bon Iver's "And at once I knew/ I was not magnificent", or you're harmonizing to the almost perfect harmonies of the Civil Wars, music helps us understand, simply put, life. Music gives us words to say when we don't have our own. It brings a kind of joy and healing that nothing of human willpower can give us.
Our entire lives, be it literally or not, should sing of Jesus and what He has done for us. We are not meant to merely whisper of Jesus but PROCLAIM the Gospel with all that we are. We are called to live our lives in a manner worthy of the Gospel (Philippians 1:27). The way we represent Christ to others is the instrumental score of our lives. How we share our stories of going from death to life are the lyrics of redemption and the Gospel in our lives. Jesus is the baton that God, the Composer asks us to follow in order that those who have yet to join the symphony might be given the opportunity to be a part of the greatest composition in all of history. Biblical discipleship and ministry is the sound of those who live lives that sharpen one another (proverbs 27:17) and can thus create an almost perfect harmony of voices. The sound of these voices, if sung confidently through the following of the baton, can and WILL echo to the ends of the earth into nations that play their symphonies underground or fearfully. Or more importantly...to the nations that don't play at all and can't hear the echoes.
In whatever capacity or setting God leads me to, I desire to sing like I never have before. Of course we will never live every second of our lives with this desire. But I think it makes sense to at least desire it. I'm sorry if anything I just wrote made no sense or wasn't Christ-centered. I just wholeheartedly believe that this symphony is coming to loud, dissonant, beautiful and triumphant end in which the musicians and audience will not stand and clap to acknowledge the composer...but will bow down before Him in awe and reverence. What a sight that will be. Let's sing and play loudly.
