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.

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.

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.

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’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.

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. 

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!

As I had a chance to step back and reflect on the incredible transformation that took place for the caldera to convert from a volcanic wasteland into a vivacious wonderland, I was reminded of God’s heart to transform. He was there when the volcano erupted unleashing tumultuous chaos and wreaking havoc on the scene. He let the lava stream and the ash spew knowing the imminent decay. 

Yet, God didn’t leave the barren land in its state of depravation. Just as the present scenery reflected God’s beauty, it equally reflected his grace. He reached down and breathed life into death, hope into despair, joy into desolation...just as he offers to breathe life into you and me. 

Regardless of where I’ve been in my journey with Christ (both prior to and after being saved), I’m in desperate need of God’s transformational grace daily. My life without Christ’s active presence is just as dead as the caldera’s vacant landscape of debris and ash- void of breath, destined for decay, completely lacking abundant life. He alone can take this broken vessel and transform it into something marvelous...into something that points directly to his unsurpassed love and grace...into something beautiful.

2 Cor. 5:17 “If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” 

Step by Step.

Your word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light for my path..." Psalm 119:105

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."

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. 

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.