Do you ever picture God one way when you pray to him? I think I always have some sort of image in my mind, even if it's sometimes just subconscious.
But recently, every time I pray, I think of God as a giddy school boy who has a gift to give me but the time has not come yet for him to give it. And so he is just bursting at the seems with a desire to tell me the secret which he cannot tell.
I haven't determined if this is indicative of the season of life I'm in, or just that my view of God has changed entirely. No longer is he always a stern and mean God who seeks to take away every good thing for the sake of "refining my character". No, instead, He is a God who desperately desires to lavishly bless me, but must wait for the right time so as not to spoil the surprise...or worse...to spoil me.
Not completely sure what to make of that...but something to ponder.
Completely Dealt With
Funny how God will often use the physical to demonstrate what is going on internally.
This summer I had a cancerous mole removed off my back. Literally took about the whole summer to deal with it. (Gross...I know.) At first I was sad to be rid of it. It was kind of a part of me for as long as I can remember. But when I finally got the stitches out last week and heard that they had removed all the bad cells, I felt like a whole new person. I immediately went on a 5 mile run...I was so overjoyed.
At the same time this summer I have been going to counseling to deal with some things that have haunted me since I was a child. I never thought I could actually be completely freed from them. I thought it was just a part of who I was. But during my last session, we prayed a long prayer of forgiveness, and something was different. For the first time in my life I felt completely free. And what happened when I was young was completely dealt with. The haunting memories will no longer plague me. I have been freed. Forever. Hallelujah. Praise God!
This summer I had a cancerous mole removed off my back. Literally took about the whole summer to deal with it. (Gross...I know.) At first I was sad to be rid of it. It was kind of a part of me for as long as I can remember. But when I finally got the stitches out last week and heard that they had removed all the bad cells, I felt like a whole new person. I immediately went on a 5 mile run...I was so overjoyed.
At the same time this summer I have been going to counseling to deal with some things that have haunted me since I was a child. I never thought I could actually be completely freed from them. I thought it was just a part of who I was. But during my last session, we prayed a long prayer of forgiveness, and something was different. For the first time in my life I felt completely free. And what happened when I was young was completely dealt with. The haunting memories will no longer plague me. I have been freed. Forever. Hallelujah. Praise God!
Everyone has a story
The best part of my job is that I get to hear people's stories. Many of which could be in books or movies if someone with enough talent had the time to notice them.
Yesterday I spent three hours with a Peruvian widow from my church who told me the most romantic story of how she met and fell in love with her husband through an ESL class, and how he then tragically died at the age of 35.
And last week another friend from church told me how she was headed towards being a star in Hollywood, when God clearly told her to drop everything. She gave away her clothes, her house, her acting career, and lost all of her friends. Many years later, she re-entered the industry but only this time with a purpose. She wrote a play within 3 weeks that has drawn crowds of women to find freedom from abuse and men to confess pornography and sexual addictions.
I could go on and on about all the people I've talked to within the last 6 months. At the end of the day I am a bit saddened that these stories are not more known. I suppose the best thing we can do for each other sometimes is just to listen. And the second best thing we can do is to make known the stories of those who have no voice to tell them.
Yesterday I spent three hours with a Peruvian widow from my church who told me the most romantic story of how she met and fell in love with her husband through an ESL class, and how he then tragically died at the age of 35.
And last week another friend from church told me how she was headed towards being a star in Hollywood, when God clearly told her to drop everything. She gave away her clothes, her house, her acting career, and lost all of her friends. Many years later, she re-entered the industry but only this time with a purpose. She wrote a play within 3 weeks that has drawn crowds of women to find freedom from abuse and men to confess pornography and sexual addictions.
I could go on and on about all the people I've talked to within the last 6 months. At the end of the day I am a bit saddened that these stories are not more known. I suppose the best thing we can do for each other sometimes is just to listen. And the second best thing we can do is to make known the stories of those who have no voice to tell them.
Fun.
Dear Introverted friends,
I need your help.
I need some ideas of how to have fun. My idea of a good time is having lots of people over for a game night, or playing soccer with twelve other people, or putting on a play, or playing Murder Charades, or choreographing a dance routine...
And what does this all have to do with anything? It all involves people. Lots of people...or a place to be loud and crazy without annoying the neighbors which is also hard to come by. So what do I do when I'm alone, need some time to unwind and not think about really deep things, without having to organize a party or travel to a far away place?
Reading before bed has given me nightmares...perhaps I need a new kind of book? TV puts me to sleep. I can't sew or knit.
What do I do?
Signed,
A desperate extrovert
I need your help.
I need some ideas of how to have fun. My idea of a good time is having lots of people over for a game night, or playing soccer with twelve other people, or putting on a play, or playing Murder Charades, or choreographing a dance routine...
And what does this all have to do with anything? It all involves people. Lots of people...or a place to be loud and crazy without annoying the neighbors which is also hard to come by. So what do I do when I'm alone, need some time to unwind and not think about really deep things, without having to organize a party or travel to a far away place?
Reading before bed has given me nightmares...perhaps I need a new kind of book? TV puts me to sleep. I can't sew or knit.
What do I do?
Signed,
A desperate extrovert
The Tragic Lie in Ministry
There are moments...
when I have driven my 30th lap around Westwood, searching for one all-day parking spot on the right side of the street, or when I've got $30 left in my bank account and am seriously contemplating if I should buy food and gas or sarcastically wait in my room all week doing nothing until I get paid again, or when I've worked 20 hours in the lab and 40 hours doing work for Intervarsity in one week, or when I've finished my tenth phone call of the night feeling stupid and like I stumbled over all my words....yes, there are moments when I am tempted to believe one of the greatest lies of the enemy...
That God is out to get me. I am tempted to believe that He's got some vicious plan to make me "take up my cross" and "refine me in the fire" to the point that there is no more Kelly left and only one sharp, perfect tool for ministry.
BUT. The great tragedy, is that that couldn't be further from the truth. No, it is not that God is using me for ministry. He is using ministry for me. He's using it to bring to the surface all of my distrust and unbelief so that He can cut it all out...completely. He's using it to wipe out all of those things that I rely on and depend on for false security, in order that I can know the one and only person who is, in fact, safe. And I couldn't be more grateful.
I mustn't ever lose sight of this truth.
when I have driven my 30th lap around Westwood, searching for one all-day parking spot on the right side of the street, or when I've got $30 left in my bank account and am seriously contemplating if I should buy food and gas or sarcastically wait in my room all week doing nothing until I get paid again, or when I've worked 20 hours in the lab and 40 hours doing work for Intervarsity in one week, or when I've finished my tenth phone call of the night feeling stupid and like I stumbled over all my words....yes, there are moments when I am tempted to believe one of the greatest lies of the enemy...
That God is out to get me. I am tempted to believe that He's got some vicious plan to make me "take up my cross" and "refine me in the fire" to the point that there is no more Kelly left and only one sharp, perfect tool for ministry.
BUT. The great tragedy, is that that couldn't be further from the truth. No, it is not that God is using me for ministry. He is using ministry for me. He's using it to bring to the surface all of my distrust and unbelief so that He can cut it all out...completely. He's using it to wipe out all of those things that I rely on and depend on for false security, in order that I can know the one and only person who is, in fact, safe. And I couldn't be more grateful.
I mustn't ever lose sight of this truth.
Because of who you are.
One line in Henry Nouwen's article "The Spirituality of Fundraising" particulary stuck out to me tonight: "Many rich people struggle with a sense of being used."
I feel like that sometimes. Not used for my money, but for my work. And I wonder: Do people love me just because I'll listen to them? Because I'll pray for them? Or because I'll get the job done and work really hard?
And I imagine much of our world feels this way...at least much of the western world. That's why we long for relationships - for people who will love us even when our actions prove to be totally worthless.
I suppose this must be how God feels most of the time. Even as I look at my overflowing jar of thankfulness, most of my little colored pieces of paper say something like "You provided more money today" or "You gave me favor with certain people" or even "You're making me into a bolder person." But almost none of them start with "God...you are..." And I wonder how that makes him feel. Sure enough, when I see less happening around me, I forget to put my little "thank-you"s in my jar.
God, why is it so hard for me to throw the business aside and just to sit on your lap and remember that you are my Papa and I am your daughter? I want to love you for just that...all the time. Whether or not I see you working. Because that's what real love is.
I feel like that sometimes. Not used for my money, but for my work. And I wonder: Do people love me just because I'll listen to them? Because I'll pray for them? Or because I'll get the job done and work really hard?
And I imagine much of our world feels this way...at least much of the western world. That's why we long for relationships - for people who will love us even when our actions prove to be totally worthless.
I suppose this must be how God feels most of the time. Even as I look at my overflowing jar of thankfulness, most of my little colored pieces of paper say something like "You provided more money today" or "You gave me favor with certain people" or even "You're making me into a bolder person." But almost none of them start with "God...you are..." And I wonder how that makes him feel. Sure enough, when I see less happening around me, I forget to put my little "thank-you"s in my jar.
God, why is it so hard for me to throw the business aside and just to sit on your lap and remember that you are my Papa and I am your daughter? I want to love you for just that...all the time. Whether or not I see you working. Because that's what real love is.
Jehovah-Rohi?
Two years ago, I asked the question, "Is God actually the Provider?" Do I believe in Jehovah-Jireh? The thought haunted me: How can I ask God to provide me a job and believe He will when so many are out of jobs these days? When there are millions dying of starvation? And then I saw Him provide...abundantly...beyond what I could ever have hoped for. And now I'm seeing Him do it again...and again...and again. Do I believe in Jehovah-Jireh? Absolutely.
But now a second question plagues me: Do I believe in Jehovah-Rohi? The Shepherd? Sure, I believe in a God who leads you alongside peaceful waters...But what about the God who tackles bears and wolves to protect his sheep? What about God the Protector?
Where was God during the abuse that happened so long ago? Where was He when Tracey was mugged a couple weeks ago and literally beaten? Where was He when Nancy went missing on her morning run yesterday and is still yet to be found? Where is He every day when so many girls are forced into prostitution? I know theologically why. I can give a beautiful answer explaining that's there's still evil in the world and God is bringing his plan of redemption. I know that we can't let circumstances dictate who God is.
But deep down in my soul there is unbelief. And God is raising it to the surface.
30 minutes of silence in the botanical garden. Of sitting with my arms crossed and tears in my eyes with no more words left to say. And what response did I get? Just one:
"The one who is in you is greater than the one who is in this world" (1 John 4:4). Papa, help me believe it. Amen.
But now a second question plagues me: Do I believe in Jehovah-Rohi? The Shepherd? Sure, I believe in a God who leads you alongside peaceful waters...But what about the God who tackles bears and wolves to protect his sheep? What about God the Protector?
Where was God during the abuse that happened so long ago? Where was He when Tracey was mugged a couple weeks ago and literally beaten? Where was He when Nancy went missing on her morning run yesterday and is still yet to be found? Where is He every day when so many girls are forced into prostitution? I know theologically why. I can give a beautiful answer explaining that's there's still evil in the world and God is bringing his plan of redemption. I know that we can't let circumstances dictate who God is.
But deep down in my soul there is unbelief. And God is raising it to the surface.
30 minutes of silence in the botanical garden. Of sitting with my arms crossed and tears in my eyes with no more words left to say. And what response did I get? Just one:
"The one who is in you is greater than the one who is in this world" (1 John 4:4). Papa, help me believe it. Amen.
My cup overflows...
...or at least it will be soon. :) I took a jar and started filling it with little pieces of paper on which I write things I am grateful for every day. And, only after a couple weeks, it is almost overflowing.
I am seriously so overjoyed for so many reasons. God has been so good to me. "You prepare a feast before me...My cup overflows with blessings..." Psalm 23:5
I think I need a bigger jar. :)
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life." John 10:10
I don't have much eloquent to say except that I am completely in love with Jesus. I sometimes don't say it for fear of sounding corny but I really am. He has truly given me a rich and satisfying life. And as I go out and tell people about my work with Intervarsity, I realize that it has never been an organization or a way of life that fills me with so much joy. It has always been Jesus. He has given me life. Not one disguised with fake happiness or neglected emotions, but a life that is real and deep and rich. I would NEVER trade it for anything else.
More on this to come...
I don't have much eloquent to say except that I am completely in love with Jesus. I sometimes don't say it for fear of sounding corny but I really am. He has truly given me a rich and satisfying life. And as I go out and tell people about my work with Intervarsity, I realize that it has never been an organization or a way of life that fills me with so much joy. It has always been Jesus. He has given me life. Not one disguised with fake happiness or neglected emotions, but a life that is real and deep and rich. I would NEVER trade it for anything else.
More on this to come...
I got a bag.
I received an email in my inbox at the beginning of the week that said "Happy Lab Week. You are appreciated." Something lit up inside of me. Oo! They're going to give me free stuff! Last year they gave me a meal ticket and a gift card to the bookstore...I wonder what it'll be this year... And that little spark of joy and anticipation stayed with me the next few days.
Today I had a conversation in the lunch room with a woman who was telling me about her research. "It's difficult...because you work and work and work and you hardly ever end up with the results you want."
Oo...chord within me has been struck. That's exactly it. That's exactly how I've been feeling for a while now. Nothing I do is going to give me immediate results and most often not the results that I'm anticipating. With every process of fundraising, there is more waiting. And fifty appointments does not necessarily equal lots of money. And as I hope and long to see real transformation in the lives of college students and of my coworkers and of my family...quick results are pretty much unheard of. In fact, real transformation cannot fully be evaluated until some twenty or thirty years have gone by.
But everything in me says that that's not the way it should work. Since childhood I've been raised with a narrative that goes something like this: You work hard = You reap the benefits. You are lazy = You reap the consequences. You study well = You get the satisfaction of seeing "A"s on your report card. You do a good job at work = You get a...
A bag?? I half chuckled to myself as I went down to pick up my "appreciation" gift. A mass manufactured black insulated bag with "Pathology and Laboratory Medicine" printed on the front. Oh! How much I had looked forward to receiving something that said I was appreciated for my work. (And don't get me wrong...I'm thankful for the bag). But now what will become of it? It will probably sit in our apartment for years, adding to the pile of random objects in our already overflowing closet.
I found myself telling my friend in the lunch room "But think of how meaningful your research really is. We may never see the full effect of it...maybe not till 100 years down the road...But just think of how many lives might someday be saved because of your grueling work."
And a voice popped into my head. "Those words were meant for you." Hmm.... I guess I'll prefer the wait.
Today I had a conversation in the lunch room with a woman who was telling me about her research. "It's difficult...because you work and work and work and you hardly ever end up with the results you want."
Oo...chord within me has been struck. That's exactly it. That's exactly how I've been feeling for a while now. Nothing I do is going to give me immediate results and most often not the results that I'm anticipating. With every process of fundraising, there is more waiting. And fifty appointments does not necessarily equal lots of money. And as I hope and long to see real transformation in the lives of college students and of my coworkers and of my family...quick results are pretty much unheard of. In fact, real transformation cannot fully be evaluated until some twenty or thirty years have gone by.
But everything in me says that that's not the way it should work. Since childhood I've been raised with a narrative that goes something like this: You work hard = You reap the benefits. You are lazy = You reap the consequences. You study well = You get the satisfaction of seeing "A"s on your report card. You do a good job at work = You get a...
A bag?? I half chuckled to myself as I went down to pick up my "appreciation" gift. A mass manufactured black insulated bag with "Pathology and Laboratory Medicine" printed on the front. Oh! How much I had looked forward to receiving something that said I was appreciated for my work. (And don't get me wrong...I'm thankful for the bag). But now what will become of it? It will probably sit in our apartment for years, adding to the pile of random objects in our already overflowing closet.
I found myself telling my friend in the lunch room "But think of how meaningful your research really is. We may never see the full effect of it...maybe not till 100 years down the road...But just think of how many lives might someday be saved because of your grueling work."
And a voice popped into my head. "Those words were meant for you." Hmm.... I guess I'll prefer the wait.
The Gift of Fund Development
I have officially begun the process of finding and inviting a team of people to support the ministry here at UCLA.
How's it gone so far? I've pretty much been schooled by Jesus just about every day.
A few snapshots of all I've been learning:
How's it gone so far? I've pretty much been schooled by Jesus just about every day.
A few snapshots of all I've been learning:
- People are generous...especially those who have little money to give.
- God provides...usually in the most unexpected ways.
- Jesus wants to make me into a generous and bold person.
- Potential donors have SO much to teach me from their life experiences.
- Money is only about 10% of what this is all about. Much of it is about partnership...praying for and encouraging each other. But all of it is about being discipled by Jesus.
- I must simultaneously put to death all desires to please people, but also continually think of ways to serve them well by being relevant and articulate.
- I love campus ministry and God is breaking my heart for college students more and more.
- The chance to fundraise is a gift. And I must praise God for it every day.
A Redeemed Church
I've seen some beautiful moments at church the last few weeks:
Today the pastor called all the men in the church to practice laying down their lives for their wives by taking the postures of servants in their marriages. About thirty men came to the front of the church to confess they needed help in their marriage and wanted to be better husbands. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
Last week at my home church, in what used to be a largely all white congregation, at least four different languages were spoken from up front, including Armenian. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
I love church. I think that, due to the fact that I work with so many college students who've had bad experiences at church, I've been trained so much to say that I understand it's got its faults and that it often doesn't represent what Jesus actually taught.
But I really like church. There has rarely been a time that I've gone to church, in the last 24 years of my life (or at least those that I can remember), that I haven't been either blessed, challenged, or filled with much joy and peace. :)
Today the pastor called all the men in the church to practice laying down their lives for their wives by taking the postures of servants in their marriages. About thirty men came to the front of the church to confess they needed help in their marriage and wanted to be better husbands. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
Last week at my home church, in what used to be a largely all white congregation, at least four different languages were spoken from up front, including Armenian. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
I love church. I think that, due to the fact that I work with so many college students who've had bad experiences at church, I've been trained so much to say that I understand it's got its faults and that it often doesn't represent what Jesus actually taught.
But I really like church. There has rarely been a time that I've gone to church, in the last 24 years of my life (or at least those that I can remember), that I haven't been either blessed, challenged, or filled with much joy and peace. :)
A Rich Heritage
Mom and I listened to the recordings of Dad's memorial service tonight. Here are some highlights from what people shared:
And that yearning I have for the world to know the dad I had is just a tiny reflection of the desire I have for the world to see how great of a God I have. I want to be like my dad because, when people saw my dad, they saw Jesus. And my prayer and deepest desire is that somehow, through the mystery and grace of God, they might see Jesus in me too.
For everything in me (in regards to both my dad and to Jesus - though the latter all the more) just wants to scream to the world, "You gotta meet my Dad! You gotta meet my Dad!"
- When Dad was in grad school at USC, he burned a hole in a door across the hall with his laser beam. :)
- In the 1970s Dad organized a trip for 150 college students to attend Urbana. (Little did he know his daughters would continue that tradition. ;))
- Dad introduced his friend, Steve Dashiell, to Jesus when he was in grad school and they were best friends for some 25 years after that ("they" meaning Dad and Steve but you can include Jesus in that too).
- One of the top managers at Xerox said that he learned everything he knew about parenting from my Dad.
- Several missionaries said how much they felt like our house was a home to them when they came back on furlough and how much wisdom and encouragement Dad gave them when they were here.
- Dad had a record at Xerox of all his achievements and groups that he's managed. The last entry said "Group Managed: Family. Highest Position Attained: Father."
And that yearning I have for the world to know the dad I had is just a tiny reflection of the desire I have for the world to see how great of a God I have. I want to be like my dad because, when people saw my dad, they saw Jesus. And my prayer and deepest desire is that somehow, through the mystery and grace of God, they might see Jesus in me too.
For everything in me (in regards to both my dad and to Jesus - though the latter all the more) just wants to scream to the world, "You gotta meet my Dad! You gotta meet my Dad!"
A Runner's Thoughts
Do you ever wonder what a runner thinks about when they're en route with no iPod or friend to talk to? Here's a little snap shot from my run this morning:
Oy...it's painful to be awake right now. Should I take the dirt path? Or the road? Dirt? What if I break an ankle...eh...what the hay...
I wonder what I'll have to do at work today... (Sinking feeling.) I have to say goodbye to Sudheer and Priya today. Science is stealing them to Texas. MAN I really hate goodbyes. How can God give me so much love for someone is so short of time? I had no idea when I started this job that I'd end up crying for a hours because I'm going to miss them so much.
Those two older men are wearing suits and the same hats. I wonder where they're from. Maybe Professors? Just taking a walk? Some cult? I bet they're in the mafia...
I wonder what Priya thinks about her new Telugu Bible. Will I still get to be a part of her life somehow and see how she continues growing spiritually while she's in Texas? I hope so.
"In-N-Out." Aagh...Don't want to smell that right now. Ooo...in four days I'll get to eat chocolate again!...Ok, don't think about food right now...
Why do I hope? It's so stinkin' painful. The more I hope and have faith the more I get hurt.
Ok. That freakin' street cleaning truck has been following me for five minutes now. If I could just run faster to get far enough ahead of him...DANG IT. I forfeit. Let me just stop and pretend to tie my shoe so he can pass me up.
Could I be like those grandmothers who pray for their children 45 years before seeing them experience Jesus? Or like one of those evangelists who really tries everything for a few years and fails miserably only to see God work wonders a couple years down the road? Jesus, what are you trying to teach me?
OH...the HILL... Minnie! I need you right now! 1,2,3...4,5,6...1,2,3...4,5,6...
Oy...it's painful to be awake right now. Should I take the dirt path? Or the road? Dirt? What if I break an ankle...eh...what the hay...
I wonder what I'll have to do at work today... (Sinking feeling.) I have to say goodbye to Sudheer and Priya today. Science is stealing them to Texas. MAN I really hate goodbyes. How can God give me so much love for someone is so short of time? I had no idea when I started this job that I'd end up crying for a hours because I'm going to miss them so much.
Those two older men are wearing suits and the same hats. I wonder where they're from. Maybe Professors? Just taking a walk? Some cult? I bet they're in the mafia...
I wonder what Priya thinks about her new Telugu Bible. Will I still get to be a part of her life somehow and see how she continues growing spiritually while she's in Texas? I hope so.
"In-N-Out." Aagh...Don't want to smell that right now. Ooo...in four days I'll get to eat chocolate again!...Ok, don't think about food right now...
Why do I hope? It's so stinkin' painful. The more I hope and have faith the more I get hurt.
Ok. That freakin' street cleaning truck has been following me for five minutes now. If I could just run faster to get far enough ahead of him...DANG IT. I forfeit. Let me just stop and pretend to tie my shoe so he can pass me up.
Could I be like those grandmothers who pray for their children 45 years before seeing them experience Jesus? Or like one of those evangelists who really tries everything for a few years and fails miserably only to see God work wonders a couple years down the road? Jesus, what are you trying to teach me?
OH...the HILL... Minnie! I need you right now! 1,2,3...4,5,6...1,2,3...4,5,6...
Damn Denim
(Pardon my French.)
I bought a pair of denim shorts from Old Navy the other day and wore them once before washing them. Bad idea. Ever since I've had bad itching all over my legs. Feels like a million mosquitoes attacked me. I'm telling you...I always have the weird and painful yet totally harmless stuff happen to me. Sigh...
The costochondritis (miserable chest pain) has finally subsided for the most part though. I think God is testing my ability to cope with pain...
I bought a pair of denim shorts from Old Navy the other day and wore them once before washing them. Bad idea. Ever since I've had bad itching all over my legs. Feels like a million mosquitoes attacked me. I'm telling you...I always have the weird and painful yet totally harmless stuff happen to me. Sigh...
The costochondritis (miserable chest pain) has finally subsided for the most part though. I think God is testing my ability to cope with pain...
5 Years
5 years ago, today, I woke up to go running with my brother and came back to hear the news that my dad had ran his last.
I don't really have much eloquent to say, but I feel a deep need to say something. That's been my frustration all day. Someone needs to remember. Someone needs to say something. But no one here ever knew my dad. No one here knows just how great he really was. And, sadly, I lack the words to tell them. I can talk all day about silly little stories - of how he did triple axles in the parking lot after church every Sunday or how he was addicted to watching "24." I can go a little deeper and talk about how he helped me with my homework and read his Bible every day. Of how he had missionaries over all the time and loved to learn about other cultures. But nothing I can say really does justice in explaining how great of a dad I had.
He wasn't a famous preacher or a missionary martyr or anyone who might cause us to have a holiday to remember him by. He was an engineer. An engineer who went to the same job for 35 years. He was quiet and pretty serious and not always recognized. And yet his impact was huge. I really think he led by Jesus' ministry model. Invest in a few and impact the world. My dad invested in four people - my mom, my sister, my brother, and myself. Sure, there were plenty of others he cared for and served, but he definitely gave up his time and life for us. And, not to boast, but I think it's only fare to say that his investment is paying off.
My mom has played a huge role in her church and is a woman of great influence there and at her work. Not to mention she has great influence in her family. :) My sister is overseeing a college ministry in San Diego where they are seeing hundreds of students become new believers. My brother is a key leader in his church group and has seen it grow from five to over thirty in just a few years. By God's grace I have seen many students and friends decide to follow Jesus for the first time and am now going into full time ministry.
And how did my Dad do it? He didn't preach any wild sermons at us or demand that we follow Jesus. No, he led by example. He woke up every morning to pray and meet with His Father. He put his family above his work and refused to travel much or work overtime. He dedicated one day a week to God, and family, and rest. When we asked him for advice, his first question for us was if we listened to God about it yet. And then he empowered us. He told me he loved me and was proud of me nearly every day. He asked me for prayer when I was just a little girl. He sent me to go to India and Mexico to have experiences of God in new environments. He loved Jesus and prayed for me every day. And really, I don't think anything else could have been more powerful.
And so, no one here knows my dad. My kids will never know him. Probably only a couple hundred people could ever say they really knew him. But his impact and his influence is immeasurable. And so today is technically Casar Chavez day. But I want to also call it Dr. Ronald Earl Joiner Jr. day. Because I think he deserves it. And boy I wish the world could just stop for a minute and remember him.
I don't really have much eloquent to say, but I feel a deep need to say something. That's been my frustration all day. Someone needs to remember. Someone needs to say something. But no one here ever knew my dad. No one here knows just how great he really was. And, sadly, I lack the words to tell them. I can talk all day about silly little stories - of how he did triple axles in the parking lot after church every Sunday or how he was addicted to watching "24." I can go a little deeper and talk about how he helped me with my homework and read his Bible every day. Of how he had missionaries over all the time and loved to learn about other cultures. But nothing I can say really does justice in explaining how great of a dad I had.
He wasn't a famous preacher or a missionary martyr or anyone who might cause us to have a holiday to remember him by. He was an engineer. An engineer who went to the same job for 35 years. He was quiet and pretty serious and not always recognized. And yet his impact was huge. I really think he led by Jesus' ministry model. Invest in a few and impact the world. My dad invested in four people - my mom, my sister, my brother, and myself. Sure, there were plenty of others he cared for and served, but he definitely gave up his time and life for us. And, not to boast, but I think it's only fare to say that his investment is paying off.
My mom has played a huge role in her church and is a woman of great influence there and at her work. Not to mention she has great influence in her family. :) My sister is overseeing a college ministry in San Diego where they are seeing hundreds of students become new believers. My brother is a key leader in his church group and has seen it grow from five to over thirty in just a few years. By God's grace I have seen many students and friends decide to follow Jesus for the first time and am now going into full time ministry.
And how did my Dad do it? He didn't preach any wild sermons at us or demand that we follow Jesus. No, he led by example. He woke up every morning to pray and meet with His Father. He put his family above his work and refused to travel much or work overtime. He dedicated one day a week to God, and family, and rest. When we asked him for advice, his first question for us was if we listened to God about it yet. And then he empowered us. He told me he loved me and was proud of me nearly every day. He asked me for prayer when I was just a little girl. He sent me to go to India and Mexico to have experiences of God in new environments. He loved Jesus and prayed for me every day. And really, I don't think anything else could have been more powerful.
And so, no one here knows my dad. My kids will never know him. Probably only a couple hundred people could ever say they really knew him. But his impact and his influence is immeasurable. And so today is technically Casar Chavez day. But I want to also call it Dr. Ronald Earl Joiner Jr. day. Because I think he deserves it. And boy I wish the world could just stop for a minute and remember him.
The "Costco" Disease is back.
Towards the end of last quarter I had sharp shooting pain in my chest and my heart rate went up real fast to the point that I thought I was having a heart attack. After going to the ER they said I had costochondritis. Two weeks of agonizing pain, some tylenol with codeine, and much love from the roommates, it finally went away.
And then this last Friday, it came back. BLahhekadubihrlykruds. Last night was the worst. The hardest thing is that the pain increases significantly when I lie down so it's really hard to sleep. I come home from work and try to make up for the lack of sleep by napping in a chair sitting up. It works...kind of.
I hate to be such a complainer but pretty much every minute I just really want to scream so I guess this is one way to vent.
"Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day." - 2 Corinthians 4:16. This is really true. Jesus - I want to fix my eyes on the wonderful things you have done for me recently and not on this pain. Help me remember how you spoke to me while I ran last week about your closeness to me. Help me remember the images you gave me in prayer at Catalyst about choosing me as your friend. Help me remember the wonderful moments with the other interns and staff this weekend and how we laughed for hours on end. Help me remember the joy you've given me as I step into this new season of ministry and calling.
I want relief Father. But more than that, I want to follow and obey Jesus in the midst of this. I want to learn the lessons he has for me and have my character be built. In moments of intense pain, my ugly side comes out more and more. So help me Father to remain faithful and loving and close to you in the midst of this.
Amen.
And then this last Friday, it came back. BLahhekadubihrlykruds. Last night was the worst. The hardest thing is that the pain increases significantly when I lie down so it's really hard to sleep. I come home from work and try to make up for the lack of sleep by napping in a chair sitting up. It works...kind of.
I hate to be such a complainer but pretty much every minute I just really want to scream so I guess this is one way to vent.
"Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day." - 2 Corinthians 4:16. This is really true. Jesus - I want to fix my eyes on the wonderful things you have done for me recently and not on this pain. Help me remember how you spoke to me while I ran last week about your closeness to me. Help me remember the images you gave me in prayer at Catalyst about choosing me as your friend. Help me remember the wonderful moments with the other interns and staff this weekend and how we laughed for hours on end. Help me remember the joy you've given me as I step into this new season of ministry and calling.
I want relief Father. But more than that, I want to follow and obey Jesus in the midst of this. I want to learn the lessons he has for me and have my character be built. In moments of intense pain, my ugly side comes out more and more. So help me Father to remain faithful and loving and close to you in the midst of this.
Amen.
Running Thoughts
A friend told me last night that it is so obvious that God and I are close. (Er...I believe her exact word was "tight.") In the moment I kind of chuckled, but I woke up and couldn't get the thought out of my mind.
I skipped work today (since my entire lab is in Salt Lake City and there's nothing to do so why not take vacation?) and ran to the beach instead. And as I ran, I kept thinking over and over again: God and I are close. We share life together. He calls me his friend. It feels strange to say it for fear of either sounding corny or cocky or of putting God on some low level and not giving him the utmost respect and honor that he deserves. But I couldn't get the reality out of my head today. I have a relationship with the living God. Who am I to have that? And in light of that reality, does anything else really matter?
As I continued running, my thoughts shifted to my dad. In a few weeks, it will have been five years since his home-going. And in that same week, I will begin a five year commitment to IV staff. And I felt like God was saying, "It's a new season Kelly. I want to take you out of a season of grief and into a season of joy." Again, it's scary to say that for fear that I'll either forget my dad and all the grief that came in that season or that when hard times come I'll question God's words. But I really had that sense today and I want to believe it - that God is really taking me into a new season with promises of joy.
"For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?" - Isaiah 43:19.
I skipped work today (since my entire lab is in Salt Lake City and there's nothing to do so why not take vacation?) and ran to the beach instead. And as I ran, I kept thinking over and over again: God and I are close. We share life together. He calls me his friend. It feels strange to say it for fear of either sounding corny or cocky or of putting God on some low level and not giving him the utmost respect and honor that he deserves. But I couldn't get the reality out of my head today. I have a relationship with the living God. Who am I to have that? And in light of that reality, does anything else really matter?
As I continued running, my thoughts shifted to my dad. In a few weeks, it will have been five years since his home-going. And in that same week, I will begin a five year commitment to IV staff. And I felt like God was saying, "It's a new season Kelly. I want to take you out of a season of grief and into a season of joy." Again, it's scary to say that for fear that I'll either forget my dad and all the grief that came in that season or that when hard times come I'll question God's words. But I really had that sense today and I want to believe it - that God is really taking me into a new season with promises of joy.
"For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?" - Isaiah 43:19.
Two Truths
"We are poor but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, and yet we have everything."
- 2 Corinthians 6:10
"I will not be afraid for you are close beside me."
- Psalm 23:4
Two truths that I can quickly forget. My eyes too easily deceive me. But oh! what life I receive when I remember.
- 2 Corinthians 6:10
"I will not be afraid for you are close beside me."
- Psalm 23:4
Two truths that I can quickly forget. My eyes too easily deceive me. But oh! what life I receive when I remember.
Reflections on Leadership
My dad used to tell me that anyone could teach - you just had to be one chapter ahead of those you were teaching and not necessarily an expert on the material.
I've felt that recently. Except, I haven't felt one chapter ahead. It's been a bit more like three chapters behind. The last couple weeks haven't been my most glamorous moments in ministry. To say the least. I don't know how many times I've walked out of an awkward conversation with a stranger in the dorms or out of counseling a student about their future thinking, Wow. Did I really just say that? and praying that I didn't do more harm than help.
But oddly enough, Jesus has invited me to lead. And it's in this very season of feeling like a complete idiot at times that He has invited me into full time ministry. So what is it, exactly, that He is calling me into? What really makes someone a leader?
I think I can look at the last couple weeks and see it as all a failure. But I am slowly becoming convinced that Jesus sees it as a victory. I can say that I fully understand what it means to take risks and then be flat out rejected. I can say that I've felt disappointment in the depths of my soul. And I can say that I've felt the weight and consequences of my pride and impatience and of my lack of fully understanding the grace and power of my God. And because of that, I can see the Cross a bit more clearly.
Luke 7:47: “I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.”
Yes, the woman with the alabaster jar has much to teach me. In some odd way, the disappointment, the rejection, the feelings of failure - have helped me to love more. Because the more I fall at the feet of Jesus, the more I see how much I desperately need Him. And, in turn, the more I long to love His people.
And so leadership is not being one chapter ahead in the sense that I've done it right and seen it work and now I'm going to pass it on. It's being one chapter ahead in knowing how much I need forgiveness. One chapter ahead in experiencing disappointment. And one chapter ahead in continuing to pour out my life and treasure in worship of Jesus.
Leadership in the Kingdom is not about one godly person raising up the broken. Rather, it's the broken picking up the broken in order to fall together at the feet of Jesus.
I've felt that recently. Except, I haven't felt one chapter ahead. It's been a bit more like three chapters behind. The last couple weeks haven't been my most glamorous moments in ministry. To say the least. I don't know how many times I've walked out of an awkward conversation with a stranger in the dorms or out of counseling a student about their future thinking, Wow. Did I really just say that? and praying that I didn't do more harm than help.
But oddly enough, Jesus has invited me to lead. And it's in this very season of feeling like a complete idiot at times that He has invited me into full time ministry. So what is it, exactly, that He is calling me into? What really makes someone a leader?
I think I can look at the last couple weeks and see it as all a failure. But I am slowly becoming convinced that Jesus sees it as a victory. I can say that I fully understand what it means to take risks and then be flat out rejected. I can say that I've felt disappointment in the depths of my soul. And I can say that I've felt the weight and consequences of my pride and impatience and of my lack of fully understanding the grace and power of my God. And because of that, I can see the Cross a bit more clearly.
Luke 7:47: “I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.”
Yes, the woman with the alabaster jar has much to teach me. In some odd way, the disappointment, the rejection, the feelings of failure - have helped me to love more. Because the more I fall at the feet of Jesus, the more I see how much I desperately need Him. And, in turn, the more I long to love His people.
And so leadership is not being one chapter ahead in the sense that I've done it right and seen it work and now I'm going to pass it on. It's being one chapter ahead in knowing how much I need forgiveness. One chapter ahead in experiencing disappointment. And one chapter ahead in continuing to pour out my life and treasure in worship of Jesus.
Leadership in the Kingdom is not about one godly person raising up the broken. Rather, it's the broken picking up the broken in order to fall together at the feet of Jesus.
Surprises Part II
Jesus is funny.
Someone called me today telling me that they had a delivery of flowers for me, but they needed to confirm my address. My first thought? Oh dear, someone's trying to prank me... or rob me. I'm not going to give out my address to a stranger. So I gave my apartment number, but not the address, and held my breath.
Then the doorbell rang. Who was it? A sweet, old lady, with beautiful flowers in her hands. Mom sent me flowers to celebrate me coming on full time staff.
Ok Jesus. I get it. I'll stop thinking worst-case-scenario and actually let you love me. :)
Someone called me today telling me that they had a delivery of flowers for me, but they needed to confirm my address. My first thought? Oh dear, someone's trying to prank me... or rob me. I'm not going to give out my address to a stranger. So I gave my apartment number, but not the address, and held my breath.
Then the doorbell rang. Who was it? A sweet, old lady, with beautiful flowers in her hands. Mom sent me flowers to celebrate me coming on full time staff.
Ok Jesus. I get it. I'll stop thinking worst-case-scenario and actually let you love me. :)
Surprises
In LaFe the other night, Jennifer drew out this implication from John 4: "When Jesus does something that surprises us, we should ask Him about it. Maybe there is a deeper lesson He has for us."
What has Jesus done that has surprised me lately? Everything. After filling out a 30 page application and going to a full day interview, I received a phone call from Tracey, one of the area directors for Intervarsity. What was I expecting?: "As we consider you for full time staff, we'd like you to go visit these five campuses... There really is no room for you at UCLA. I'm sorry."
What did she actually say? "I would love to invite you to full time staff... at UCLA." Period.
That's it? Really? You're not going to make me go visit five other campuses first? Three months ago, I was told that there are too many staff at UCLA and that I shouldn't even see it as an option. And immediately my heart had sunk. It sunk almost as low as it had when I found out Dad and Desi died. Seriously? No possibility? But this is where I've spent all my time and energy and love for almost 6 years now. And it's just going to be stripped away like that? But I have to consider the big picture. Some campuses have no staff. How selfish of me.
But as much as I tried to separate myself from what I knew - as much as I tried to envision myself anywhere else, I just couldn't. I love this campus. Deeply. And to leave it would be grief. Serious grief.
But now, they're letting me stay.
And then the second surprise came. A conversation about who I might be leading at UCLA. One of the biggest things that broke my heart about having to leave UCLA, was the thought of leaving LaFe. But we just started. We've just gotten momentum. I love them so much. I love Latino students on this campus. How could I say goodbye so quickly?
And so now what did I expect to hear? "We'll let you stay at UCLA, but we don't want you to lead LaFe. You're not Latino. They need a Latino leader. It was good for you for a year, but not longer than that."
But what did they actually say? "It'd be great for you to continue to be a part of the leadership in LaFe next year." Wait. What? Seriously? Who I am to get to continue to lead them?
And then Jesus stopped me. "Why are you so surprised? Why is your first assumption always the worst case scenario? Don't you believe that I want to give good gifts to my children?"
Of course, Jesus....
But no. I don't. Not deep down. What about all those times that you called me to leave the very things I loved so much? Like soccer, and band, and a lead role in a play, and the opportunity to do theater in college? And what about all the people in my life who you've taken away? My boyfriend? Desi? Close friendships? MY DAD???? And what about all the people in my life who are suffering right now? What about those who are hunting for jobs and just not finding them? What about those who would love to do what I'm doing right now but can't, for whatever reason? You don't give good gifts to your kids. Or you might... but then you quickly take them away.
And then Mike's talk came back to me. "We have to see our circumstances in light of who God is, and not the other way around."
What if I've been seeing God wrongly for all these years? He says He delights in giving good gifts to His children. So I have to believe that's true.
No, I am not a cruel God - out to take away everything good. I love you. I want so much more for you. And I've been shaping you all this time for this. To be a part of the movement at UCLA. Kelly - That love you have for this campus and for Latino students...that's from me. And it brings me so much joy to give you more opportunities to do what you were made to do.
Thank you Jesus. That's all I can say. The next five years of my life will be spent here. At UCLA. Loving college students. Living by a weird schedule and in an old apartment with no parking. Spending my evenings with people much younger than myself. Teaching and training and urging others to join the movement. And I have never felt more spoiled. More privileged. More in awe of God.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you!!!
What has Jesus done that has surprised me lately? Everything. After filling out a 30 page application and going to a full day interview, I received a phone call from Tracey, one of the area directors for Intervarsity. What was I expecting?: "As we consider you for full time staff, we'd like you to go visit these five campuses... There really is no room for you at UCLA. I'm sorry."
What did she actually say? "I would love to invite you to full time staff... at UCLA." Period.
That's it? Really? You're not going to make me go visit five other campuses first? Three months ago, I was told that there are too many staff at UCLA and that I shouldn't even see it as an option. And immediately my heart had sunk. It sunk almost as low as it had when I found out Dad and Desi died. Seriously? No possibility? But this is where I've spent all my time and energy and love for almost 6 years now. And it's just going to be stripped away like that? But I have to consider the big picture. Some campuses have no staff. How selfish of me.
But as much as I tried to separate myself from what I knew - as much as I tried to envision myself anywhere else, I just couldn't. I love this campus. Deeply. And to leave it would be grief. Serious grief.
But now, they're letting me stay.
And then the second surprise came. A conversation about who I might be leading at UCLA. One of the biggest things that broke my heart about having to leave UCLA, was the thought of leaving LaFe. But we just started. We've just gotten momentum. I love them so much. I love Latino students on this campus. How could I say goodbye so quickly?
And so now what did I expect to hear? "We'll let you stay at UCLA, but we don't want you to lead LaFe. You're not Latino. They need a Latino leader. It was good for you for a year, but not longer than that."
But what did they actually say? "It'd be great for you to continue to be a part of the leadership in LaFe next year." Wait. What? Seriously? Who I am to get to continue to lead them?
And then Jesus stopped me. "Why are you so surprised? Why is your first assumption always the worst case scenario? Don't you believe that I want to give good gifts to my children?"
Of course, Jesus....
But no. I don't. Not deep down. What about all those times that you called me to leave the very things I loved so much? Like soccer, and band, and a lead role in a play, and the opportunity to do theater in college? And what about all the people in my life who you've taken away? My boyfriend? Desi? Close friendships? MY DAD???? And what about all the people in my life who are suffering right now? What about those who are hunting for jobs and just not finding them? What about those who would love to do what I'm doing right now but can't, for whatever reason? You don't give good gifts to your kids. Or you might... but then you quickly take them away.
And then Mike's talk came back to me. "We have to see our circumstances in light of who God is, and not the other way around."
What if I've been seeing God wrongly for all these years? He says He delights in giving good gifts to His children. So I have to believe that's true.
No, I am not a cruel God - out to take away everything good. I love you. I want so much more for you. And I've been shaping you all this time for this. To be a part of the movement at UCLA. Kelly - That love you have for this campus and for Latino students...that's from me. And it brings me so much joy to give you more opportunities to do what you were made to do.
Thank you Jesus. That's all I can say. The next five years of my life will be spent here. At UCLA. Loving college students. Living by a weird schedule and in an old apartment with no parking. Spending my evenings with people much younger than myself. Teaching and training and urging others to join the movement. And I have never felt more spoiled. More privileged. More in awe of God.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you!!!
Rich Moments
I finally watched the new Star Trek movie tonight. I'm a little embarrassed to say I really liked it. Does that make me a nerd? Probably. My dad loved Star Trek. In fact, after he died and we were cleaning out his desk, we found a Star Trek action figure. I believe when I found it, I rolled my eyes and muttered "Oh dad..." But now I can kind of see why he liked it so much. He was an engineer. A lover of physics. And he delighted in dreaming up worlds that defied all the rules of his text books but yet somehow seemed believable. His childhood dream was to invent a hover board. (Different movie, I know.)
For some reason, in the last month, I've had several rich moments of both delighting in the memory of dad and grieving the loss of him. I sat at our large group meeting a couple weeks ago and saw Jerome for the first time after he came back from sabbatical. The first thought in my head was, Wow...There's so much to tell him. What will I choose to share? How long will it take to catch up? 6 months is a long time. And then, almost immediately, my mind went to my dad. 6 months is a long time. 5 years is even longer. How much has gone by since I talked to dad. So much has happened. How will we possibly catch up on everything? Will I even remember everything once I get to see him again?
And then I heard a gentle voice, Kelly, What would you tell him if he were here?
I would tell him that Wendi's married. And Ben has a girlfriend. I'm applying for full time staff. Did you ever think I'd be in full time ministry dad? You always thought I'd be a writer. Or an actress. Maybe I'll get to do both. :) And I'd tell him that mom's doing ok. She stayed at church like you told her to, and they're treating her well. And I'd tell him about all the spiritual conversations and Bible studies we've had at work. And about all the cross cultural encounters I've had. And how a man just joined our lab from China. Third day there he was studying the Bible! I'd tell him that I've been running a lot... sometimes 6 miles to the beach! I'd tell him I've gotten to give talks about social justice and racial reconciliation and that I'm leading a group of Latino students. You'd be glad for that, huh dad? I'd tell him about all God's been doing in my heart - how He's teaching me how to live healthily and not make work my life. I'd tell him that, when I'm at work, I often think about how he was a witness at his work, and wonder what he would do to love his coworkers.
Jesus, how will I remember it all? It's only been 5 years. What will happen when ten or twenty or fifty years go by? And then, as tears began to fall, I heard the same gentle voice. I will help you remember. But if you want, I'm here with him right now so I can tell him. More tears.
A few days later, the same voice gently spoke again. Kelly, you think you'll have a lot to tell your dad. But think how much we'll have to talk about. And we'll have all eternity to do it.
Back again, in our large group meeting last week, I thought of dad again. As Mike shared his story about his dad, I couldn't help but think of memories of my own. I imagined him tugging on my hair like he always did, bouncing on his toes a little bit in pride and joy, with a small grin on his face. And then Mike talked about how we see God as cruel sometimes, just out to get us. And my heart began to stir. No, I know that's not true. God gave me the best dad ever....
I know I did. In fact, you and your dad are one of my most beautiful creations. I'm so pleased with that.
And then the anger came. Well then, why did you take him away? Why did you have to take him away, God? If it was a beautiful creation, why did you destroy it? More tears.
And then Mike continued. But we have to see our circumstances in light of who God is and not the other way around. Ok, God. I know you're good. I DO know that. I know. I know.... You're good. Help my unbelief.
Rich. Yes, I do believe that's the best word to describe these moments. Not all painful. Not all filled with anger. Not all joyful. But rich.
For some reason, in the last month, I've had several rich moments of both delighting in the memory of dad and grieving the loss of him. I sat at our large group meeting a couple weeks ago and saw Jerome for the first time after he came back from sabbatical. The first thought in my head was, Wow...There's so much to tell him. What will I choose to share? How long will it take to catch up? 6 months is a long time. And then, almost immediately, my mind went to my dad. 6 months is a long time. 5 years is even longer. How much has gone by since I talked to dad. So much has happened. How will we possibly catch up on everything? Will I even remember everything once I get to see him again?
And then I heard a gentle voice, Kelly, What would you tell him if he were here?
I would tell him that Wendi's married. And Ben has a girlfriend. I'm applying for full time staff. Did you ever think I'd be in full time ministry dad? You always thought I'd be a writer. Or an actress. Maybe I'll get to do both. :) And I'd tell him that mom's doing ok. She stayed at church like you told her to, and they're treating her well. And I'd tell him about all the spiritual conversations and Bible studies we've had at work. And about all the cross cultural encounters I've had. And how a man just joined our lab from China. Third day there he was studying the Bible! I'd tell him that I've been running a lot... sometimes 6 miles to the beach! I'd tell him I've gotten to give talks about social justice and racial reconciliation and that I'm leading a group of Latino students. You'd be glad for that, huh dad? I'd tell him about all God's been doing in my heart - how He's teaching me how to live healthily and not make work my life. I'd tell him that, when I'm at work, I often think about how he was a witness at his work, and wonder what he would do to love his coworkers.
Jesus, how will I remember it all? It's only been 5 years. What will happen when ten or twenty or fifty years go by? And then, as tears began to fall, I heard the same gentle voice. I will help you remember. But if you want, I'm here with him right now so I can tell him. More tears.
A few days later, the same voice gently spoke again. Kelly, you think you'll have a lot to tell your dad. But think how much we'll have to talk about. And we'll have all eternity to do it.
Back again, in our large group meeting last week, I thought of dad again. As Mike shared his story about his dad, I couldn't help but think of memories of my own. I imagined him tugging on my hair like he always did, bouncing on his toes a little bit in pride and joy, with a small grin on his face. And then Mike talked about how we see God as cruel sometimes, just out to get us. And my heart began to stir. No, I know that's not true. God gave me the best dad ever....
I know I did. In fact, you and your dad are one of my most beautiful creations. I'm so pleased with that.
And then the anger came. Well then, why did you take him away? Why did you have to take him away, God? If it was a beautiful creation, why did you destroy it? More tears.
And then Mike continued. But we have to see our circumstances in light of who God is and not the other way around. Ok, God. I know you're good. I DO know that. I know. I know.... You're good. Help my unbelief.
Rich. Yes, I do believe that's the best word to describe these moments. Not all painful. Not all filled with anger. Not all joyful. But rich.
Why is following Jesus so hard?
A question I have asked myself quite frequently these days. Not in a bitter or even mournful sense, but in a "Wow, my muscles are feeling the strain of picking up my cross daily" type way. It is almost like walking through a room of swinging punching bags, hoping to make it out in the end without too many bruises, but fully knowing that there is no other way to go.
For with every longing for healing, there is a new invitation to confess and seek forgiveness. With every desire for deeper relationships, comes a command to reconcile. With every cry for intimacy with the Father, comes a call to burn the idols. And with every prayer for a friend comes a challenge to take another risk.
Following Jesus is hard. I feel it. But I wouldn't have it any other way. For with every confession comes healing. And every hard conversation comes a deeper friendship. And with every seemingly good thing that gets ripped out of life, comes a restored connection to the only one who can truly satisfy. And with every risk, comes an incredible joy of seeing the looks on faces of those who have just sipped from the Living Water for the first time.
And so, as I go to sleep at the end of the day, I say, "Father. It's been hard. But rich. And so worth it. So thank you. Amen"
For with every longing for healing, there is a new invitation to confess and seek forgiveness. With every desire for deeper relationships, comes a command to reconcile. With every cry for intimacy with the Father, comes a call to burn the idols. And with every prayer for a friend comes a challenge to take another risk.
Following Jesus is hard. I feel it. But I wouldn't have it any other way. For with every confession comes healing. And every hard conversation comes a deeper friendship. And with every seemingly good thing that gets ripped out of life, comes a restored connection to the only one who can truly satisfy. And with every risk, comes an incredible joy of seeing the looks on faces of those who have just sipped from the Living Water for the first time.
And so, as I go to sleep at the end of the day, I say, "Father. It's been hard. But rich. And so worth it. So thank you. Amen"
Spoken Word for Christmas
Every year I write some sort of spoken word/ poetry for Christmas. Here's what I wrote for this previous Christmas:
"He is."
Promised…
To be the founder of a nation,
To set a people free,
To receive a land to call home
To be given a king,
To see Jew and Gentile
Finally reconcile,
To have eyes opened
To see the sick healed
The poor made rich
And the hungry made full…
They wait.
Holding only to signs
Of colors in the sky
Of a fiery bush
Of a star in the East
Of a catch of fish
Of a sheet of pigs
Of the words
of a revolutionist
on a hill
about a kingdom
drawing near.
I wonder.
Can I dare to dream
Of this heaven on earth
Where friends re-unite
And Dads love their kids
Where work is something all can attain
But is never one’s bane.
Where purpose and joy
And freedom and life
Are the most prevalent words
of our time.
To hope
is a brave feat -
To willingly put yourself
In a tug – of –war
Between absolute joy
And brutal reality –
To dream of what could be
And wake up to what is
Day after day
After day.
But to know
That that yearning for more
Was actually knit into our very being
From day one
As we looked both back and ahead to
Paradise –
And that hope is not just some
wishful thinking for a
fairy tale world,
but that we are people
who have been promised.
THAT gives us courage to dream.
We have been promised…
A world
Where the sick are healed
The poor are rich
The hungry are full…
And as we join those before us
to wait…
we hold on to the greatest sign of all –
Our savior is here.
He is our hope.
He is our promise.
Jesus – let your kingdom come.
Amen.
"He is."
Promised…
To be the founder of a nation,
To set a people free,
To receive a land to call home
To be given a king,
To see Jew and Gentile
Finally reconcile,
To have eyes opened
To see the sick healed
The poor made rich
And the hungry made full…
They wait.
Holding only to signs
Of colors in the sky
Of a fiery bush
Of a star in the East
Of a catch of fish
Of a sheet of pigs
Of the words
of a revolutionist
on a hill
about a kingdom
drawing near.
I wonder.
Can I dare to dream
Of this heaven on earth
Where friends re-unite
And Dads love their kids
Where work is something all can attain
But is never one’s bane.
Where purpose and joy
And freedom and life
Are the most prevalent words
of our time.
To hope
is a brave feat -
To willingly put yourself
In a tug – of –war
Between absolute joy
And brutal reality –
To dream of what could be
And wake up to what is
Day after day
After day.
But to know
That that yearning for more
Was actually knit into our very being
From day one
As we looked both back and ahead to
Paradise –
And that hope is not just some
wishful thinking for a
fairy tale world,
but that we are people
who have been promised.
THAT gives us courage to dream.
We have been promised…
A world
Where the sick are healed
The poor are rich
The hungry are full…
And as we join those before us
to wait…
we hold on to the greatest sign of all –
Our savior is here.
He is our hope.
He is our promise.
Jesus – let your kingdom come.
Amen.