"Beauty in brokenness" has been a phrase dear to my heart for several years… But it has taken on a new meaning for me following a trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons with my class of senior students.
The phrase first gripped me during my 2nd year of University when I had the privilege of leading the River, an on-campus women's ministry at my college. Just a few weeks before school started, I found myself applying for and being offered the position after the original leader stepped down. From the very beginning of the school year (Fall of 2010 I think??), my head was full of questions and my heart was full of fear. Insecurities swiftly lurched into my mind, clouding my thoughts and tainting my perspective of the leadership position…. what was I getting myself into? I didn't know how to lead worship, I wasn't a gifted speaker or communicator… I was organized but could I plan events for 50+ people each month? Was this really what God had called me to do?
As I prayed about how to step into the newly acquired role, 2 Corinthians 12:9 "But [the Lord] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is make perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." became my tearful anthem, and "beauty in brokenness" emerged as the theme of the ministry for the year. Throughout the year, I constantly reflected on how God graciously took weaknesses of men and women and through them, proclaimed his strength. Speakers shared stories about how God had made himself visible in the middle of dark times… how He had used their hardships to serve as avenues of his love… how his power had become perfect in their weaknesses… My heart was deeply encouraged at God's willingness to take our messes and make himself known to us in personal, transformational ways. His grace is so beautifully manifested in our weaknesses. His beauty is seen in our brokenness.
But… there's more…
If you've never been to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone, you need to go. Seriously. I will never forget the moment I first saw the Tetons standing strong against the backdrop of the blue sky. Even though I was surrounded by 25 people on a school bus, intense stillness swept over me. My breath escaped my lungs, and tears streamed down my face. Dare I say, it was one of the most beautiful sites I have ever experienced.
As I reflected on the indescribable majesty of these rugged mountains, I was struck with the realization that they are a direct result of God's judgement. When I look at the world around me, I see countless evidences for a global flood as described in Genesis 6-9. This Flood was God's chosen instrument for destroying the earth at that time. His wrath (which we often have difficulty discussing for some reason) manifested through physical disasters and transformed the geological and, even, atmospheric structure of the earth on a global scale.
For so long I've looked at the mountains and seen them as evidences for God's creation. Rarely have I looked at them and seen them as a testimony to his judgment. But that's exactly what they are: remnants of a global catastrophe that resulted from God's judgment on the world for man's rampant evil and wickedness. The Tetons are protruding from the surface of the earth today because of the consequence for an infestation of sin. They should remind us of our wretched hearts and sinful natures. They should break us.
But… these mountains are undeniably beautiful.
Only a perfectly loving and holy God could use a mark of his destruction to depict his goodness in such a majestic way. Even more than these mountains represent his judgement, they showcase his love and grace. He didn't have to give us the ability to gaze upon them and see them as stunning art exhibits… He didn't have to allow the sun to cascade across the canyon crevices in ways that make the shadows sway and the light dance… He didn't have to paint the hills with wildflowers and dust the skies with hues of blue… He didn't have to allow us to appreciate the contrasting (and complementary) colors, textures, shapes, and details of nature… But he did.
It's in these mountains that I see not only how God make beauty out of brokenness… he breaks things into beauty… and that's grace.
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Saturday, August 23, 2014
"Why Not?"
During my
time in China, I repeatedly heard the question, "why not?" from the
director of the organization and my counterpart Chinese teacher.
Nearly every time I heard one of them utter these words, their voices were full
of optimism and hope. As we discussed various ideas with each another (ranging
from where to go for dinner to what activity to do with the students), my 2
dear coworkers would frequently reply, “Why not?” and plans would be made to
implement the suggestion. I was struck with their eagerness to improve,
willingness to try new things, and hopeful expectation that a positive outcome
would arise. (Clarification: this was not the answer in response to insanely
outlandish ideas. They were not foolishly or naively willing to try anything
out of the blue! Rather, they were refreshingly optimistic in contrast to my
somewhat-skeptical and overly-analytical thoughtful evaluations of ideas and
decisions).
Now,
I don’t think I'm frequently labeled as a pessimist person… but the repetition
of the “why not” question ringing with undertones of hopeful optimism stood out
to me in a way that caused me to question the reason for its absence from my
day-to-day thoughts and conversations. So often I end up trying to convince
myself to do something by listing off positive results of the decision. This
isn’t wrong to do (in fact, it can demonstrate wise decision-making and
critical thinking), but it also implies an initial question of “why?” which is
often rooted in doubt, uncertainty, skepticism and even pessimism.
Furthermore,
the “why not? response of my coworkers in China frequently arose out of true
respect and consideration of the person sharing an idea. For instance, whenever
I posed a schedule question, such as, “would you mind if I switched the morning
activity with the afternoon activity?” the “why not?” response I received from
the director was based on an attitude of respect and confidence in my
decision-making. The director didn’t ask me to provide a rationale for my idea;
he expected me to have exercised discernment prior to asking him and trusted me
to competently carry out my idea. There were times I would begin to share
reasons behind my ideas in schedule changes (likely as a subconscious attempt
to prove my capabilities, which is an entirely other downfall to work through
haha), and the director would graciously cut me off in order to approve my idea
based on his respect and confidence in me. He trusted me to do my job well
because that’s what he had asked me to do. There wasn’t nagging doubt in his
mind (at least, not that I could see!) nor a prove-it mentality in which I
often find myself trapped. He had hope.
As I thought about minimal presence of the
hopeful “why not?” in my own thoughts, I was hit with the realization that the
foundation for me asking “why?” instead of “why not?” is frequently rooted in
pride. (Surprise, surprise… another
conviction of pride!) More often than not, I wind up thinking (dare I say
subconsciously) that others are inferior to me and must “prove” that their
opinions, ideas, needs… merit my time
and energy.
Why
should I take the time to help you?
How
can you convince me you have a good idea?
What
have you done to deserve my energy?
What
are the reasons you can give me that prove your opinion is worth consideration?
On
more than one occasion I’ve either directly or indirectly demanded that someone
else persuade me to help, listen to, or even tolerate them… all the while
maintaining a presupposition in my heart that I am superior to them in some way.
Yikes.
That looks terrible when I actually read it back to myself! Deep breath. Sadly,
it’s true. I'll confess it again… often, I ask “why?” because I
see others as inferior to me and require them to prove themselves worthy. Ugh! May
it not be so.
Pause for a second… I’m
not making a claim that every time I ask “why?” (or when anyone asks “why?” for
that matter) the foundation lies on pride. “Why?” is not a bad question!
Statements and opinions should be justified, and justification should be given.
Sometimes, “why?” must be asked to elicit justification, and other times
justification is presented without being a direct response to “why?” (Like now,
for example… I’m basically providing justification for my thoughts- an
explanation of why they should be validated and a reason divulging why I think
they are true). Simply, I'm attempting to recognize the beauty I see rooted in the contrasting question "why not?" that I rarely find myself asking.
When thoughts, opinions, ideas, suggestions, etc. are shared by others… why not ask, "why not?" It's quite fun, actually! I love how the question conveys a sense of childlike faith and innocent optimism. Just saying it awakens a feeling of hopeful excitement and eagerness to see something great unfold!
* Why not allow Christ to strip away my prideful tendency toward skeptical questioning?
* Why not eagerly search for positive elements of others' thoughts rather than fixating on the negative aspects?
* Why not identify strengths of others and confidently expect them to be demonstrated instead of ignoring them?
* Why not respect others enough to invest in their thoughts and ideas in place of demanding people to pursue me they deserve my time?
* Why not let my initial response to requests and suggestions of others be saturated with humility, grace, and hope instead of being tainted with cynicism and doubt?
Why not ask, "why not?"
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Initial Reflections Following 2 Weeks in China
After 2 weeks in Guangzhou, China (one of the provinces in the Southeast region), I'm attempting to settle back into the reality of living in North America and process the magnitude of the adventure I've been fortunate enough to experience. So many thoughts are jumbled in my head, and this post in only an attempt to sort them into a somewhat understandable summary. As the thoughts continue to surface as words, perhaps another post will come to fruition too. For now, this mere attempt will need to suffice…
So, what did I do in China? Well, for 10 days I taught leadership/English to 18 students (14-15 years old) for 8 hours a day in a stark classroom full of vibrancy and energy. Not a day passed that I neglected to see a new cultural practice, try amazing food, laugh with students, or learn more about myself, humanity, and our Creator. Seriously. I cannot put into words how thankful I am to have gone on this trip! The phrase, "it was great," will continue to define the trip, but never will it encapsulate the expanse of my enjoyment and appreciation of the experience.
Now, the bigger question, for me at least- what did I learn? The culture I witnessed was beautiful. Here are a few attempts at expressing what I learned:
1. "Community" came to mean more to me, especially at dinner time. I've always enjoyed getting to know people through sharing a meal together, but rarely do I share meal times as I did in Guangzhou. At dinner every night, myself and several others gathered around a table with plates of food spread across the center. Now, this wasn't just "family style," where dishes were passed around and each person loaded up his own plate… Every person did have his own plate and bowl, but they were very small. The purpose of their size was seemingly twofold: to take small portions of everything and to make it easy for others to serve you as you passed them your small dish. I could hardly take a bite without someone seeing my bowl was getting empty and filling it with more food! The same went for the tea… after nearly every drink, it was filled by someone at the table. At first I thought this might be because I was a foreign guest, but they treated everyone this way! So much hospitality and servanthood! Everyone was looking out for each other and seeking to serve in a visible way.
2. Along the lines of community, I learned more about a "we" culture contrasting a "me" culture. One night I spent hours talking to a dear friend about valuing the group over the individual. She expressed the underlining goal of maintaining peace, stability, and placidity rather than being a unique individual with personal opinions. The good of the group supersedes the good of the individual. She said for a Chinese person, it's more desirable to be in the middle of the pack, to remain unnoticed, to keep the peace… uniqueness is not valued in the same ways it is in North America. And, as much as I believe God has created us as unique individuals to fulfill unique purposes for his glory, I think there's something to be said for valuing the "we" of a community, not solely the "me." Perhaps I'll write more about this later… my muddled thoughts are yet to be cleared entirely…
3. Communication is far more than spoken word. Well, that's obvious! But what I mean by that is we have the ability to understand others and express ourselves, even to be connected to others, without sharing the same spoken language. In some way, we share a heart language. Regardless of our Mother Tongue, every person on the earth has a desire to know love, to know truth, to have a meaningful life, to enjoy life, to be respected, and so on… and because of these inherent desires of humanity, we can relate to each other on a deep level without talking. Facial expressions, eye content, gestures, and posture became crucial for me to show my appreciation to different people I met when verbal communication was unattainable. The inability to talk with people verbally also challenged me to speak to their hearts. I couldn't ask them questions about themselves to make them feel valued and respected; instead, I had to posture myself graciously, initiate eye contact, and frequently smile in order to show others I took notice of them, cared for them, and appreciated what they were doing. Communication was more difficult, but it also took place on a deep level when speech was not a means nor a hindrance to expressing myself.
4. Finally (for now), I saw in another way how big God is. Did you catch that? God is BIG. Well, duh! But seriously. He is huge! I often experience the scope of God's magnitude when I look up at the stars… but I see it when I travel the world too. The God of the universe knows every single person on the planet. Every one who has lived was created by him… everyone who is living is being sustained by him… and everyone who will live will get their breath from him alone. Wow. That’s a lot of people. His knowledge stretches farther and wider than I can comprehend. How humbling!
But, he didn't just remind me of the far-reaching span of his size… he reminded me of the depth of his character too. He not only knows about everyone in the world, but he knows the depths of who we all are… the ins and outs of every person who has ever lived, is living, and is yet to live… and he extends his infinite love to each one as we are known by him. Furthermore, he created each of us as individuals to know him and love him in a deep and personal way. He invites us into fellowship with him out of the depths of who we are, into the depths of who he is. He knowledge and love doesn't just stretch across the planet, it plunges into the depths of every person created.
If you made it through the whole post of my poorly-sorted thoughts, I commend you! May these words serve not merely as a way to remember a fantastic adventure, but may they stir me to grow as I let truth penetrate my soul in a new way.
2. Along the lines of community, I learned more about a "we" culture contrasting a "me" culture. One night I spent hours talking to a dear friend about valuing the group over the individual. She expressed the underlining goal of maintaining peace, stability, and placidity rather than being a unique individual with personal opinions. The good of the group supersedes the good of the individual. She said for a Chinese person, it's more desirable to be in the middle of the pack, to remain unnoticed, to keep the peace… uniqueness is not valued in the same ways it is in North America. And, as much as I believe God has created us as unique individuals to fulfill unique purposes for his glory, I think there's something to be said for valuing the "we" of a community, not solely the "me." Perhaps I'll write more about this later… my muddled thoughts are yet to be cleared entirely…
3. Communication is far more than spoken word. Well, that's obvious! But what I mean by that is we have the ability to understand others and express ourselves, even to be connected to others, without sharing the same spoken language. In some way, we share a heart language. Regardless of our Mother Tongue, every person on the earth has a desire to know love, to know truth, to have a meaningful life, to enjoy life, to be respected, and so on… and because of these inherent desires of humanity, we can relate to each other on a deep level without talking. Facial expressions, eye content, gestures, and posture became crucial for me to show my appreciation to different people I met when verbal communication was unattainable. The inability to talk with people verbally also challenged me to speak to their hearts. I couldn't ask them questions about themselves to make them feel valued and respected; instead, I had to posture myself graciously, initiate eye contact, and frequently smile in order to show others I took notice of them, cared for them, and appreciated what they were doing. Communication was more difficult, but it also took place on a deep level when speech was not a means nor a hindrance to expressing myself.
4. Finally (for now), I saw in another way how big God is. Did you catch that? God is BIG. Well, duh! But seriously. He is huge! I often experience the scope of God's magnitude when I look up at the stars… but I see it when I travel the world too. The God of the universe knows every single person on the planet. Every one who has lived was created by him… everyone who is living is being sustained by him… and everyone who will live will get their breath from him alone. Wow. That’s a lot of people. His knowledge stretches farther and wider than I can comprehend. How humbling!
But, he didn't just remind me of the far-reaching span of his size… he reminded me of the depth of his character too. He not only knows about everyone in the world, but he knows the depths of who we all are… the ins and outs of every person who has ever lived, is living, and is yet to live… and he extends his infinite love to each one as we are known by him. Furthermore, he created each of us as individuals to know him and love him in a deep and personal way. He invites us into fellowship with him out of the depths of who we are, into the depths of who he is. He knowledge and love doesn't just stretch across the planet, it plunges into the depths of every person created.
If you made it through the whole post of my poorly-sorted thoughts, I commend you! May these words serve not merely as a way to remember a fantastic adventure, but may they stir me to grow as I let truth penetrate my soul in a new way.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Fear… and Love
Every time I go white water rafting, the Lord uses the opportunity to slap me across the face and teach me something powerful yet again. A recent 2-day trip down the Deschutes was no exception.
His power roars in the sound of the rushing waves… His beauty manifests as the sun cascades across the rugged geology and majestic terrain… His design flies across the water in the form of agile avian… His boundless love dances through my heart as I remember that He who has created all that lies before me… is mindful of me.
Wow.
Even with that amazing truth at the forefront of my mind, the Lord still uprooted an attitude I continually suppress: fear. Now, after 4 or 5 trips like I this, I don't fear the water any more (in fact, I had my fair share of water-time, usually of my own choosing). However, I was reminded that a fear of heights still peaks its nasty head every so often.
As our first day on the water drew to a close, our guides offered one more chance at adventure. With our gear unloaded, dinner cooking, and camp in order, the opportunity to jump off a massive cliff was presented to our group. Hey, l totally did that last time! I jumped off the shortest part of it, but I could for sure do the high part this year! I eagerly joined the guides and embarked on the journey to the cliff.
Now, tucked away in my memory bank was an image of a rugged rock several meters above the water. I recall being nervous, but it hadn't been too difficult to take the plunge into the water from one of the lowest peaks. When we reached our destination, however, the rock seemed larger than I had remembered. Still enthusiastic about the jump, I climbed up the side of the jagged surface and looked over the edge.
Oh my word, this is so much higher up than I remember! How on earth did I do this before? There's no chance I'm jumping off the high end! This is crazy!
Thoughts flooded my mind. Fear overcame me.
You can totally do this. It's not that high up. Seriously, pull it together. You're going to enjoy it!
Regardless of the amount of positive self-talk I tried to scream into my mind, my feet would not budge. I could not bring myself to jump.
Eventually, one of the guides grabbed my hand, counted down, and plunged alongside me into the still waters looming beneath our feet. My heart jumped to my throat, I let out an excited scream, and before I knew it, cool water swallowed by body on all sides. I had jumped. And loved it!
The partner-jump elicited so much excitement from within me that I proceeded to fly solo the next few rounds, each time jumping from a slightly higher part of the cliff. Soon, the highest peak was all that was left. You know you have to do it, Kristina. Jump from the highest. Prove you can do it.
Several times I walked up, looked over, and turned back. I can't do it. Ugh. It looked awful! "You'll be fine!" "Don't think about it!" "Just jump!" sang the chorus of encouragement around me… but each time I stepped forward, I froze.
"Beloved, are you willing to follow me even when it's scary?" Of course, Lord!
"Are you willing to go wherever I call you?" Absolutely!
"Then jump." But I can't!
"Do you love me?" You know I love you.
"Jump… I love you."
I pushed my legs off the solid ground stabilizing me and plunged into the waters below. I jumped.
As I swam back to shore, the significance of the jump blazed to the front of my mind. It wasn't about overcoming one of my fears, chanting enough positive self-talk, experiencing an emotional high, or even proving to myself I could do something I didn't' think I could do… I was about Love.
"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love." 1 John 4:18
Perfect love casts out fear. Love dismantles fear. Love eliminates fear. Love exposes fear for what it truly is- the absence of love. I was only able to jump when my mind was fixed on Love Himself. As the reminders to cease striving, to stop performing, to rest in the Lord, to be… came to mind, the projection of fear evaporated. It was in that moment of receiving and experiencing Love that I stepped forward to do, to move, to obey, to jump… action immediately follows the gift of Love… I need not (in fact, cannot) prove myself worthy, acceptable, or lovable on my own… at all. Love is extended not on the grounds of the recipient's worth, but on the foundation of the character of the Giver who loves perfectly. God loves because he IS love. And experiencing His perfect loves compels us to live…. and to love.
His power roars in the sound of the rushing waves… His beauty manifests as the sun cascades across the rugged geology and majestic terrain… His design flies across the water in the form of agile avian… His boundless love dances through my heart as I remember that He who has created all that lies before me… is mindful of me.
Wow.
Even with that amazing truth at the forefront of my mind, the Lord still uprooted an attitude I continually suppress: fear. Now, after 4 or 5 trips like I this, I don't fear the water any more (in fact, I had my fair share of water-time, usually of my own choosing). However, I was reminded that a fear of heights still peaks its nasty head every so often.
As our first day on the water drew to a close, our guides offered one more chance at adventure. With our gear unloaded, dinner cooking, and camp in order, the opportunity to jump off a massive cliff was presented to our group. Hey, l totally did that last time! I jumped off the shortest part of it, but I could for sure do the high part this year! I eagerly joined the guides and embarked on the journey to the cliff.
Now, tucked away in my memory bank was an image of a rugged rock several meters above the water. I recall being nervous, but it hadn't been too difficult to take the plunge into the water from one of the lowest peaks. When we reached our destination, however, the rock seemed larger than I had remembered. Still enthusiastic about the jump, I climbed up the side of the jagged surface and looked over the edge.
Oh my word, this is so much higher up than I remember! How on earth did I do this before? There's no chance I'm jumping off the high end! This is crazy!
Thoughts flooded my mind. Fear overcame me.
You can totally do this. It's not that high up. Seriously, pull it together. You're going to enjoy it!
Regardless of the amount of positive self-talk I tried to scream into my mind, my feet would not budge. I could not bring myself to jump.
Eventually, one of the guides grabbed my hand, counted down, and plunged alongside me into the still waters looming beneath our feet. My heart jumped to my throat, I let out an excited scream, and before I knew it, cool water swallowed by body on all sides. I had jumped. And loved it!
The partner-jump elicited so much excitement from within me that I proceeded to fly solo the next few rounds, each time jumping from a slightly higher part of the cliff. Soon, the highest peak was all that was left. You know you have to do it, Kristina. Jump from the highest. Prove you can do it.
Several times I walked up, looked over, and turned back. I can't do it. Ugh. It looked awful! "You'll be fine!" "Don't think about it!" "Just jump!" sang the chorus of encouragement around me… but each time I stepped forward, I froze.
"Beloved, are you willing to follow me even when it's scary?" Of course, Lord!
"Are you willing to go wherever I call you?" Absolutely!
"Then jump." But I can't!
"Do you love me?" You know I love you.
"Jump… I love you."
I pushed my legs off the solid ground stabilizing me and plunged into the waters below. I jumped.
As I swam back to shore, the significance of the jump blazed to the front of my mind. It wasn't about overcoming one of my fears, chanting enough positive self-talk, experiencing an emotional high, or even proving to myself I could do something I didn't' think I could do… I was about Love.
"There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love." 1 John 4:18
Perfect love casts out fear. Love dismantles fear. Love eliminates fear. Love exposes fear for what it truly is- the absence of love. I was only able to jump when my mind was fixed on Love Himself. As the reminders to cease striving, to stop performing, to rest in the Lord, to be… came to mind, the projection of fear evaporated. It was in that moment of receiving and experiencing Love that I stepped forward to do, to move, to obey, to jump… action immediately follows the gift of Love… I need not (in fact, cannot) prove myself worthy, acceptable, or lovable on my own… at all. Love is extended not on the grounds of the recipient's worth, but on the foundation of the character of the Giver who loves perfectly. God loves because he IS love. And experiencing His perfect loves compels us to live…. and to love.
Retrospect
Stop.
Turn around and look.
See the long trail behind you
Stained with sorrowful tears.
Have they not been dried?
Wait.
Change your view and see.
The path on which you just trudged,
Arduous and grueling,
Did you not survive?
Pause.
Just stand still and be.
Please remember my promise
To sustain and support.
Were my words a lie?
Now.
Turn your face to me.
My right hand will uphold you
Always faithful and true,
In me, love, abide.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Tears.
Easter. Resurrection Sunday. My favorite day of the year.
Yet this year was different: the first Easter without my grandma. Oh what I would give to answer the phone to her sweet voice gently and joyfully half-singing, "Hello, darling granddaughter. Happy Resurrection Day! Today we celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord and Savior! What a wonderful day this is!"Tears spring to my eyes when I stop and acknowledge that I will never hear her say those words again. I'll never see her in the kitchen mashing potatoes… or hold her hand as we pray together before our meal… or receive another Scripture-saturated hand-written card declaring God's goodness… And so, streams of sadness continue to cascade down my face, threatening to drown my thoughts in an immobilizing state of sorrow.
Then, I remember: Nan is with our risen Savior.
That's it- the tears are now pouring through my eyes, racing towards my chin, until… they're stopped by the upward curve of an involuntary smile. Joy- inexplainable joy- bursts inside the walls of my grieving heart. My dear grandma, Nan, is celebrating Jesus' resurrection with him… because of his resurrection. Wow. Dead to this life, yet more alive than anyone on earth. Cue the tears.
Yet this year was different: the first Easter without my grandma. Oh what I would give to answer the phone to her sweet voice gently and joyfully half-singing, "Hello, darling granddaughter. Happy Resurrection Day! Today we celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord and Savior! What a wonderful day this is!"Tears spring to my eyes when I stop and acknowledge that I will never hear her say those words again. I'll never see her in the kitchen mashing potatoes… or hold her hand as we pray together before our meal… or receive another Scripture-saturated hand-written card declaring God's goodness… And so, streams of sadness continue to cascade down my face, threatening to drown my thoughts in an immobilizing state of sorrow.
Then, I remember: Nan is with our risen Savior.
That's it- the tears are now pouring through my eyes, racing towards my chin, until… they're stopped by the upward curve of an involuntary smile. Joy- inexplainable joy- bursts inside the walls of my grieving heart. My dear grandma, Nan, is celebrating Jesus' resurrection with him… because of his resurrection. Wow. Dead to this life, yet more alive than anyone on earth. Cue the tears.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Little Dogs
*Disclaimer* Read with caution if you like little dogs, have a little dog, or will be offended by hearing a contrary stance on your love of little dogs...My kindness filter might be off-kilter a bit, and I'll probably have to ask for forgiveness at some point after writing this haha You've been warned.
I'm sorry to say, I'm just not a natural-born believer in a little dog's unique charm... Their yippy voices, wiry frames, beady eyes, and often aggressive demeanors have always rubbed me the wrong way (I know not every little dog fits these descriptions, so here's a good place to insert an apology for stereotyping!) I attribute my tendencies towards annoyance and dislike of the tiny creatures to my dad. He's always found great joy in labeling little dogs as "toilet brushes," because "that's really the only thing they're good for," and my spongy mind soaked up this presupposition as a child. I've found that over the years this label has become more engrained in my mentality, to the point where my initial reaction to seeing almost any little dog is "gross, that should go in a toilet." Yikes!!! How horrible am I?!
What's worse than my internal judgements of little dogs is the external expression of my offensive opinions. I've had quite a few "open mouth, insert foot" experiences centered around the innocent creatures. I don't hide my thoughts or emotions particularly well, and I've said things (verbally and non-verbally) that were better left unsaid. You know that wise saying your mother used to say, "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all..." well, I should really take that to heart a bit more often. I mean, really, how necessary is it to harshly proclaim, "Ew, is that a dog?" or to allow a snarky look to wave across my face when I decide to try and keep my mouth shut. My face ends up saying it all.
Well, as much as I'd love to keep ranting about my miniature-canine frustration, I better cut to the chase of this profound (*cough*) thought stream. While I've griped and complained about the yipping, scratching, shaking, annoying little creatures commonly referred to as "cute little dogs," I've been challenged with several applicable thoughts… they've done nothing wrong to me, so what on earth do I have against them… they can't help it, I need to love them…
I'm sorry to say, I'm just not a natural-born believer in a little dog's unique charm... Their yippy voices, wiry frames, beady eyes, and often aggressive demeanors have always rubbed me the wrong way (I know not every little dog fits these descriptions, so here's a good place to insert an apology for stereotyping!) I attribute my tendencies towards annoyance and dislike of the tiny creatures to my dad. He's always found great joy in labeling little dogs as "toilet brushes," because "that's really the only thing they're good for," and my spongy mind soaked up this presupposition as a child. I've found that over the years this label has become more engrained in my mentality, to the point where my initial reaction to seeing almost any little dog is "gross, that should go in a toilet." Yikes!!! How horrible am I?!
What's worse than my internal judgements of little dogs is the external expression of my offensive opinions. I've had quite a few "open mouth, insert foot" experiences centered around the innocent creatures. I don't hide my thoughts or emotions particularly well, and I've said things (verbally and non-verbally) that were better left unsaid. You know that wise saying your mother used to say, "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all..." well, I should really take that to heart a bit more often. I mean, really, how necessary is it to harshly proclaim, "Ew, is that a dog?" or to allow a snarky look to wave across my face when I decide to try and keep my mouth shut. My face ends up saying it all.
Well, as much as I'd love to keep ranting about my miniature-canine frustration, I better cut to the chase of this profound (*cough*) thought stream. While I've griped and complained about the yipping, scratching, shaking, annoying little creatures commonly referred to as "cute little dogs," I've been challenged with several applicable thoughts… they've done nothing wrong to me, so what on earth do I have against them… they can't help it, I need to love them…
I’d
forgotten about the post sitting in my “draft” box for the past several months
until the most recent little dog encounter. As I was babysitting this weekend,
the family’s most recent addition to the family (a puppy version of a little
dog) was wearing on my patience. I felt like I’d constantly been telling him to
get out of the kitchen, drop the toilet paper, get away from whatever he’d been
chewing… his annoyance level kept increasing rapidly until one of the boys made
a passing comment to me…
Little
puppy dog was pawing at my arms and giving me the most pathetic
tongue-hanging-out-of-mouth look while, of course, producing countless whimpers and wines, and my reaction was simply “Go away!” The
9-year-old boy from across the room, sidetracked by his video game,
half-heartedly commented, “he just wants some loves.”
That’s
it. Love. Puppy just wanted to be loved.
Was
I seriously being convicted by my lack of love towards a pesky puppy? Yep. It
hit me harder than I care to admit. This yappy creature just wanted a tiny dose
of my affection, a glimpse of fondness. He wanted to be noticed, be cared for,
be enjoyed…. He was trying to receive my love by reminding me of his presence.
Surely, if I only knew he was there, I would readily extend love.
As often as I’ve told myself time and time again that whatever love I have toward someone else is from the Lord, it’s hard to remember. I know that true love extended by me is not of myself; I simply don’t have it in me to crank out love on a whim. Love, in any capacity, is completely from the Lord. Sure, I can easily extend affection toward people I like, but it’s difficult to love them. Like actually LOVE them.
As often as I’ve told myself time and time again that whatever love I have toward someone else is from the Lord, it’s hard to remember. I know that true love extended by me is not of myself; I simply don’t have it in me to crank out love on a whim. Love, in any capacity, is completely from the Lord. Sure, I can easily extend affection toward people I like, but it’s difficult to love them. Like actually LOVE them.
So,
all this to say, may the Lord make my love for others abound more and more,
including love for the “little dogs” in my life.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Beauty in a Caldera
"I will make rivers flow on barren heights,
and springs within the valleys.
I will put in the desert
the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive.
I will set junipers in the wasteland,
the fir and the cypress together,
so that people may see and know,
may consider and understand,
that the hand of the Lord has done this,
that the Holy One of Israel has created it."
Isaiah 41:18-20
This past week I had an incredible opportunity to camp with a group of Christian science-lovers at Paulina Lake within Newberry National Monument in Bend, Oregon. It was phenomenal. The beauty we experienced was no where near captured in the lens of a camera; you seriously just need to go there and absorb it yourself!
The first day we arrived, several of us went for a hike around the rim of the lake- a lake that fills a caldera of a once very active Newberry Volcano. Bright blue skies and soft white clouds above, lush greenery and clear blue waters to the right and left, and delicate foliage amongst rugged volcanic rock below... all working together to overwhelm me with their sheer beauty. With each passing step came new reminders of God’s creativity and unsurpassed glory, fresh opportunities to “rejoice in his whole world” (Prov. 8:31). It was a spectacular hike pointing directly to God’s infinite beauty and majesty.
However, I was hit later with the realization that the stunning scenery surrounding me was once a desolate volcanic wasteland blanketed with molten lava and ashen debris. The past contained a hideous mess. I had great difficulty trying to imagine the blue skies saturated with heavy, gray smoke and the green trees scorched from the heat. How could something so glorious in the present have been so wretched in the past? There were remnants of the harsh volcanic activity, but even the jagged lava rock along the paths looked grand in the gleaming sunlight. Yet this vibrant monument really was a conglomeration of death destruction in the past!
2 Cor. 5:17 “If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Step by Step.
Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path..." Psalm 119:105
The world tells us we need to have a destination in mind and then figure out the appropriate steps to reach it... Questions like, "where do you see yourself in five years?" and "what are your short term and long term goals" pervade our minds and manipulate our agendas in ways reflecting an innate desire for control. We think that if we can calculate strategically enough and plan far enough in advance, our lives will unfold precisely as we see fit. And when curve balls do fly towards us, we quickly dodge them and try to re-plan, re-focus, re-organize... We go back to the drawing board and map out yet another set of ideals (or this could just be me, but I'll use a plural subject so I feel less ridiculous haha)
Now, don't get me wrong, I think goals are fantastic! There's nothing inherently wrong with being focused, determined, or driven. Even Paul writes in Philippians 3:14, "I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus..." which suggests a highly positive connotation in regards to goal-setting! However, we can't forget to notice the nature of Paul's goal-setting in comparison to ours. Let's back up a bit...
In verses 7-10, Paul beautifully articulates the only goal that matters- knowing Christ. He writes, "But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death..."
Paul's goal is complete self-abandonment, utter surrender... his goal is Christ.
It is in this context of striving to know his Lord that Paul can unrelentingly press towards what lies ahead... he does not divulge a detailed missionary-map of upcoming endeavors nor a specified proposal of how many letters he'll compose in his lifetime. He simply longs for a deep, intimate relationship with his Lord.
Recently I've been faced with many questions about my future, and I honestly just don't have the answers. What are my specific goals for my career? When/Where will I go back to school? Will I even go back to school? I try and picture where I see myself in five years, and I could literally see myself almost anywhere! Does that mean I'm "directionless"??
No, not necessarily... as I was chatting with a friend tonight we were reflecting on the excitement of seeing only the tiny step in front of us. There are definitely elements of frustration, uncertainty, confusion... but it really is thrilling to embrace the unknown as a new adventure, a new opportunity to completely depend on God. In Psalm 119:105, God promises he will give a lamp (singular) to our feet and a light (what do ya know... singular again) for our path, not a series of little lamps and lights neatly revealing the journey far beyond our present. He promises to illuminate the dimly-lit path as we press into Him...one step at a time.
Time and time again I've been faced with the tendency to map out a long-term journey of my life, a step by step plan unfolding a detailed depiction of how I want my years on earth to be spent. From which college to attend and which degree to obtain, to what location "to settle down in" and at what age to get married, I've attempted to answer almost every life question pre-maturely in order to have a perfect little picture of what my life will look like.
The problem is, my life doesn't look like "that."
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Change.
In less than a month I will completely pack up my life in Langley, BC and return to the land of ducks and beavers- Oregon, I'm coming back. Excitement, worry, sadness, peace... almost every emotion has darted across my mind at some point or another during the past few weeks. I have so much to look forward to. Yet...
I really don't like change. But what is it about change that I don't like? The newness? The uncertainty? The danger? (Better strap on a helmet just in case!) Perhaps it's not so much the next step that lies ahead that causes such a mixed array of emotions tumultuous within me, but the path I'm leaving behind...
As I met with a group of friends tonight to pray for our church and how God is leading us, a passage in Acts 8 came to mind: the story of Philip and an Ethiopian. (I wanted only to apply it to how I was praying for my specific church family earlier, but sometimes God takes things we're projecting onto others and slaps us on the head with them!) The story begins in Acts 8:26 with and angel of God directing Philip to embark on a specific travel route. Soon, Philip runs into an Ethiopian official on his way to Jerusalem to worship. Prior to his encounter with Philip, the Ethiopian is reading from Isaiah and formulating some questions. Upon seeing the Ethiopian, Philip is prompted by the Holy Spirit to approach him and begin a conversation... through the next few verses, we see the Ethiopian ask Philip to explain some questions he has with the passage, and Philip, being led by the Spirit, unfolds the message of Jesus using the passage the Ethiopian is reading. Now keep reading... the story progresses beautifully (straight out of a Billy Graham crusade snapshot!), and the Ethiopian is baptized at the first site of water! How awesome!!!
With a bird's eye view of the entire story, we can see how clearly God had prepared the path for Philip and the Ethiopian to meet and converse. The story could just end with the Ethiopian's baptism and a warm, fuzzy feeling in the hearts of the readers... but it doesn't... we get to see what happens to Philip and the Ethiopian after their encounter.
Now, I would like to say Philip gets to stay and continue chatting away with his new friend, building a relationship that would continue in-person, face-to-face... but that's not the case. We are told that immediately after the new convert's baptism and commitment to Jesus, Philip is abruptly taken away, never again to be seen by the Ethiopian.
What?! You mean the two buddies didn't get to continue on together learning and growing, sharing their lives in the same vicinity?? Nope. Philip and the Ethiopian shared a marvelous encounter, and then their time together was over- just like that. If you take a look at the story again, you won't read of the Ethiopian wallowing in sadness or disappointment; he continues on his way rejoicing! And Philip goes on traveling and preaching in many other towns... both men shared a grand encounter, which came to an end, and they continued on the path God had for them full of joy.
So... although this story doesn't exactly relate to my life at the moment, God has been using it to encourage me and remind me of his unsurpassed sovereignty, love, and faithfulness. Unlike Philip and the Ethiopian, I have had the privilege of sharing many experiences, not just one brief encounter, with my church community in BC and learning to truly "do life together" as part of the body of Christ. From folding laundry, cleaning kitchens, painting fences... sharing meals, playing board games, and watching movies... to witnessing baptisms, singing in worship, and praying for one another... the church community in which God has placed me (RHC, Trinity, Fleetwood...) has been immensely instrumental in my encouragement and growth. The things I've learned about myself and the ways I've seen God work have undoubtedly changed my heart and shaped my character more than I anticipated. Just as the Ethiopian's life shifted after meeting Philip, so has mine after my time in BC.
However, that time has come to an end (insert HUGE sigh and token teardrop trickling down from right eye corner). As Philip was taken away from his new friend, so is God steering my path out of my Langley community (go ahead... rejoice like the Ethiopian ;)). But just like Philip, I trust God will give me excitement, peace, confidence, and joy to fully depend on him and jump whole-heartedly into whatever adventure lies ahead....
Even though I'm not the biggest fan of change, I know the little thing I like to call "my life" is not about me. Change (seemingly good or bad, easy or difficult, exciting or scary...) is for God's glory and God's purposes alone. So, let's strap on our safety helmets and allow God to throw us into the beautiful journey ahead... knowing the One who goes before us and is faithful to carry us through.
I really don't like change. But what is it about change that I don't like? The newness? The uncertainty? The danger? (Better strap on a helmet just in case!) Perhaps it's not so much the next step that lies ahead that causes such a mixed array of emotions tumultuous within me, but the path I'm leaving behind...
As I met with a group of friends tonight to pray for our church and how God is leading us, a passage in Acts 8 came to mind: the story of Philip and an Ethiopian. (I wanted only to apply it to how I was praying for my specific church family earlier, but sometimes God takes things we're projecting onto others and slaps us on the head with them!) The story begins in Acts 8:26 with and angel of God directing Philip to embark on a specific travel route. Soon, Philip runs into an Ethiopian official on his way to Jerusalem to worship. Prior to his encounter with Philip, the Ethiopian is reading from Isaiah and formulating some questions. Upon seeing the Ethiopian, Philip is prompted by the Holy Spirit to approach him and begin a conversation... through the next few verses, we see the Ethiopian ask Philip to explain some questions he has with the passage, and Philip, being led by the Spirit, unfolds the message of Jesus using the passage the Ethiopian is reading. Now keep reading... the story progresses beautifully (straight out of a Billy Graham crusade snapshot!), and the Ethiopian is baptized at the first site of water! How awesome!!!
With a bird's eye view of the entire story, we can see how clearly God had prepared the path for Philip and the Ethiopian to meet and converse. The story could just end with the Ethiopian's baptism and a warm, fuzzy feeling in the hearts of the readers... but it doesn't... we get to see what happens to Philip and the Ethiopian after their encounter.
Now, I would like to say Philip gets to stay and continue chatting away with his new friend, building a relationship that would continue in-person, face-to-face... but that's not the case. We are told that immediately after the new convert's baptism and commitment to Jesus, Philip is abruptly taken away, never again to be seen by the Ethiopian.
What?! You mean the two buddies didn't get to continue on together learning and growing, sharing their lives in the same vicinity?? Nope. Philip and the Ethiopian shared a marvelous encounter, and then their time together was over- just like that. If you take a look at the story again, you won't read of the Ethiopian wallowing in sadness or disappointment; he continues on his way rejoicing! And Philip goes on traveling and preaching in many other towns... both men shared a grand encounter, which came to an end, and they continued on the path God had for them full of joy.
So... although this story doesn't exactly relate to my life at the moment, God has been using it to encourage me and remind me of his unsurpassed sovereignty, love, and faithfulness. Unlike Philip and the Ethiopian, I have had the privilege of sharing many experiences, not just one brief encounter, with my church community in BC and learning to truly "do life together" as part of the body of Christ. From folding laundry, cleaning kitchens, painting fences... sharing meals, playing board games, and watching movies... to witnessing baptisms, singing in worship, and praying for one another... the church community in which God has placed me (RHC, Trinity, Fleetwood...) has been immensely instrumental in my encouragement and growth. The things I've learned about myself and the ways I've seen God work have undoubtedly changed my heart and shaped my character more than I anticipated. Just as the Ethiopian's life shifted after meeting Philip, so has mine after my time in BC.
However, that time has come to an end (insert HUGE sigh and token teardrop trickling down from right eye corner). As Philip was taken away from his new friend, so is God steering my path out of my Langley community (go ahead... rejoice like the Ethiopian ;)). But just like Philip, I trust God will give me excitement, peace, confidence, and joy to fully depend on him and jump whole-heartedly into whatever adventure lies ahead....
Even though I'm not the biggest fan of change, I know the little thing I like to call "my life" is not about me. Change (seemingly good or bad, easy or difficult, exciting or scary...) is for God's glory and God's purposes alone. So, let's strap on our safety helmets and allow God to throw us into the beautiful journey ahead... knowing the One who goes before us and is faithful to carry us through.
Monday, November 19, 2012
He's always been faithful to me??
Morning by morning I wake up to find the power and comfort of God's hand in mine.
Season by season I watch him amazed, in awe of the mystery of his perfect ways.
All I have need of his hand will provide. He's always been faithful to me.
I can't remember a trial or a pain he did not recycle to bring me gain.
I can't remember one single regret in serving God only and trusting his hand.
All I have need of his hand will provide. He's always been faithful to me.
This is my anthem, this is my song, the theme of the stories I've heard for so long.
God has been faithful, he will be again. His loving compassion, it knows no end.
This morning as we sang this song at church, the words refused to come out of my mouth. Try as I might, I couldn't, or didn't want to, proclaim God's faithfulness. The music played, voices echoed around me, worship filled the room... and I refused to join. The melodic tune compelled voices to proclaim, He's always been faithful to me... yet, I found myself battling unbelief.
It's Mid-November, the gas tank is empty, rent is due soon, next semester's invoice taunts me, and instant oatmeal is no longer my favorite breakfast/lunch/dinner meal. On top of the usual financial fears, my car needs a major repair. Fabulous. Is God really here? Does he really care? I know in my head I can trust him, but what happens when I don't see Him coming through? Isn't he suppose to provide?
The sermon today was on one of my favorite passages: Ephesians 3:14-21. The passage lavishly proclaims God's unsurpassable love through beautifully rich imagery- his love is wider, higher, deeper than we can ever imagine. God's love knows no end. Today, however, the words in verse 20 struck a cord with me. In this verse, Paul refers to God as "him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us." God is able. But my question was, "will he?" Sure he CAN step in an solve my problems, meet my financial needs, eliminate my car problems, keep my gas tank running on empty, and so on... but WILL he do that?
Then I realized that's the wrong question.
Let's just say I don't see God provide in the way in which I wanted him to... is he any less God? What if I live off oatmeal for the rest of the semester? How about if my car stops in the middle of the road and doesn't restart? Or if I can't afford to come back to school next semester? Is he still God? Is he still Trustworthy? Loving? Faithful?
Yes. 100%
Thankfully God's character is not contingent upon how I see him working... His trustworthiness doesn't depend on how I see my "needs" being met, his love doesn't act according to my ability to accept it, and his faithfulness doesn't hinge on the amount of my faith I can conjure up. He is God always.
It's true we know people's characters by their actions, and I believe the same is true for God. But, sometimes we're just not able to see the full extent of his actions and their reflection of his character. We naval-gaze, lose sight of reality, stare at the problems right before us... we forget to look to Jesus. As God re-fixes our eyes back on him, our "needs" shift, our fears fade, God's peace overwhelms us and transforms our hearts and minds. Circumstances might not change, but our attitudes do.
In peace, God is faithful.
In joy, God is faithful.
In love, God is faithful.
Thinking back to Eph 3:20, we can know God is able because we know him. But the question of "will he?" shouldn't matter. Or it should at least be redirected. Will God come through in the ways we think we need him to? Maybe. But if not, he will come through in ways he knows we need. Peace, joy, love (the list goes on and on, but I tend to like lists of 3 if you haven't noticed haha)... in these God is faithful.
As God fixes my heart, mind, eyes, and thoughts on the truth of who he is and what Christ has done on the cross, my perspective can't help but change. The phrase "Preach the Gospel to yourself" has been around for quite awhile, even reflected in Ps. 42:5 ("Why are you downcast, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God...my salvation and my God"), for good reason. We mustn't forget the hope we have in Christ. He is alive in us (Eph 2:22), and this is the reason to which Paul refers in 3:1, 14 as he proclaims God's love.
So while my problems, fears, doubts, and trials are left unsolved to some extent, I know God is God. He loves me, sacrificed his Son for me, and is alive within me for the praise of his glorious name. What else matters? In this He's always been faithful to me.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Piercing Light.
The angst within my soul
Taunts and pulls
Fervently.
Emotion-filled chaos
Collapses my thoughts.
Confusion erupts
And hammers my feet
To the floor.
I wrestle with no gain.
Again I crack,
I crumble,
I break
Under the weight.
All hope fades
As darkness overtakes
The dimming light within.
One final attempt
To gasp for air
In vain.
And then
The unthinkable takes place.
Victory on the horizon?
It cannot be so.
But alas,
Light emerges
Through the shadows.
A glimmer at first,
A twinkle,
A glint.
My eyes look away
I'm a skeptic, afraid.
The light becomes stronger,
Penetrating deep
Into the shadows
Of the walls of my heart.
Relentless, consistent
The warmth surpasses
My fears.
Freedom. At last.
For even the smallest glint of light with pierce the shell of darkness.
Taunts and pulls
Fervently.
Emotion-filled chaos
Collapses my thoughts.
Confusion erupts
And hammers my feet
To the floor.
I wrestle with no gain.
Again I crack,
I crumble,
I break
Under the weight.
All hope fades
As darkness overtakes
The dimming light within.
One final attempt
To gasp for air
In vain.
And then
The unthinkable takes place.
Victory on the horizon?
It cannot be so.
But alas,
Light emerges
Through the shadows.
A glimmer at first,
A twinkle,
A glint.
My eyes look away
I'm a skeptic, afraid.
The light becomes stronger,
Penetrating deep
Into the shadows
Of the walls of my heart.
Relentless, consistent
The warmth surpasses
My fears.
Freedom. At last.
For even the smallest glint of light with pierce the shell of darkness.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
A Favorite Way to Walk.
If you see me around often, it won't come as a surprise that I have one particular pair of shoes I rather enjoy wearing... chances are i'll have them on any day of the week, every season, regardless of the rest of the outfit... can you guess?? Think Texas (yes, I secretly want to marry a cowboy haha). That's right... my brown, worn out cowboy boots! Scuffed, faded, peeling sole... yet I relentlessly refuse retire them.
People ask me why I'm so committed to them. The two shoes have clearly served their duty and are ready for a rest in the back of the closet. But I can't bear to let them go (I actually have another pair of the exact same shoes I've been saving for when the current pair gets the boot, but they're just hanging out in the box... patiently awaiting their showtime haha). I've been wrestling with why exactly I won't give the first pair up. No sentimental memories are attached to them, they weren't purchased anywhere special, and they certainly don't have an outstanding timelessness or beauty! But still, they haven't let me down yet.
Constant... Steadfast... Faithful...
In one of my classes, an interesting question was posed to the students. I use "interesting" not because I hadn't heard the question before, but because of the context in which it was presented. After attempting to dialoguing with the class about how God has been defined and perceived over the ages, beginning with the first Yahweh worshippers (Hebrew people who eventually became the people of Israel) and continuing into today's modern context, my professor reminded us of the unavoidable tension between God's incomparable, transcendent nature and His desire to reveal himself to us. We can't come to terms with who God is, at least not in his entirety.
"The real God is greater than the God of the Bible," emerged from his mouth to taunt a skeptical class of Bible-believing Christians. Is that a heretical statement? Not necessarily. My professor's point was that, although the Bible points us in the right direction towards understanding the depth of who God is, it doesn't enable us to grasp the full concept. We just can't. I actually find this refreshing! If I could understand and conceive of all aspects of God, he wouldn't be God. Furthermore, we can't just pick and choose the attributes of God we like and don't like... elevating one above another would present an inaccurate portrayal of who his is. Failure to recognize the vastness of who He is results in human elevation along with the potential of worshipping something other than God! Anyway... back to the "interesting question."
After going into detail about God's transcendent, inconceivable nature, my professor transitioned to asking, "What's the most important attribute of God?" Um, didn't we just establish that we can't actually describe God; we can't choose one attribute over another? Yes... but... God is a personal being who reveals himself to us individually and invites us to engage in relationship with Him. We wants us to know who he is. Herein lies the tension, but the beauty shines forth.
So the question can, perhaps, be re-worded into "what has God revealed about himself to me that has significance and particular weight in my life?"Not "what's the best thing about God for everyone at all times and in all situations?" but "what is God showing me about himself?"
Faithfulness.
In the same way I take delight in the consistent presence of my beloved old brown boots, I rejoice in the steadfastness of my Lord... even in the midst of intense anxiety, fear, sadness, and stress, nothing can separate me from his love (Romans 8:38, 39). Although I may turn in shame of my disobedience and wickedness, nowhere I run will hide me from his presence (Psalm 139:7-10). He is faithful when I am not (2 Tim 2:13). And, oh, am I ever thankful my faithfulness (or lack thereof) does not affect the faithfulness of my God!
No analogies are perfect (and there's a whole slew of dangers in comparing God to a pair of shoes! I'm really not getting at that! haha) but I can't help but smile when I think of how faithfully my cowboy boots have been my 'sole' companions for the past few years... then, when I consider the incredible faithfulness demonstrated by God, that smile can't help but awaken peace and joy from within me. I take comfort in the complexity and transcendent nature of God, but for now, I find rest in knowing his faithfulness revealed to me. From this, I walk forward into knowing more and more of who he is. From this, I am compelled to walk in love.
"Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations," Deut. 7:9
People ask me why I'm so committed to them. The two shoes have clearly served their duty and are ready for a rest in the back of the closet. But I can't bear to let them go (I actually have another pair of the exact same shoes I've been saving for when the current pair gets the boot, but they're just hanging out in the box... patiently awaiting their showtime haha). I've been wrestling with why exactly I won't give the first pair up. No sentimental memories are attached to them, they weren't purchased anywhere special, and they certainly don't have an outstanding timelessness or beauty! But still, they haven't let me down yet.
Constant... Steadfast... Faithful...
In one of my classes, an interesting question was posed to the students. I use "interesting" not because I hadn't heard the question before, but because of the context in which it was presented. After attempting to dialoguing with the class about how God has been defined and perceived over the ages, beginning with the first Yahweh worshippers (Hebrew people who eventually became the people of Israel) and continuing into today's modern context, my professor reminded us of the unavoidable tension between God's incomparable, transcendent nature and His desire to reveal himself to us. We can't come to terms with who God is, at least not in his entirety.
"The real God is greater than the God of the Bible," emerged from his mouth to taunt a skeptical class of Bible-believing Christians. Is that a heretical statement? Not necessarily. My professor's point was that, although the Bible points us in the right direction towards understanding the depth of who God is, it doesn't enable us to grasp the full concept. We just can't. I actually find this refreshing! If I could understand and conceive of all aspects of God, he wouldn't be God. Furthermore, we can't just pick and choose the attributes of God we like and don't like... elevating one above another would present an inaccurate portrayal of who his is. Failure to recognize the vastness of who He is results in human elevation along with the potential of worshipping something other than God! Anyway... back to the "interesting question."
After going into detail about God's transcendent, inconceivable nature, my professor transitioned to asking, "What's the most important attribute of God?" Um, didn't we just establish that we can't actually describe God; we can't choose one attribute over another? Yes... but... God is a personal being who reveals himself to us individually and invites us to engage in relationship with Him. We wants us to know who he is. Herein lies the tension, but the beauty shines forth.
So the question can, perhaps, be re-worded into "what has God revealed about himself to me that has significance and particular weight in my life?"Not "what's the best thing about God for everyone at all times and in all situations?" but "what is God showing me about himself?"
Faithfulness.
In the same way I take delight in the consistent presence of my beloved old brown boots, I rejoice in the steadfastness of my Lord... even in the midst of intense anxiety, fear, sadness, and stress, nothing can separate me from his love (Romans 8:38, 39). Although I may turn in shame of my disobedience and wickedness, nowhere I run will hide me from his presence (Psalm 139:7-10). He is faithful when I am not (2 Tim 2:13). And, oh, am I ever thankful my faithfulness (or lack thereof) does not affect the faithfulness of my God!
No analogies are perfect (and there's a whole slew of dangers in comparing God to a pair of shoes! I'm really not getting at that! haha) but I can't help but smile when I think of how faithfully my cowboy boots have been my 'sole' companions for the past few years... then, when I consider the incredible faithfulness demonstrated by God, that smile can't help but awaken peace and joy from within me. I take comfort in the complexity and transcendent nature of God, but for now, I find rest in knowing his faithfulness revealed to me. From this, I walk forward into knowing more and more of who he is. From this, I am compelled to walk in love.
"Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations," Deut. 7:9
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