I have had an amazingly full weekend full of friends and family. Showers, weddings, catch-ups with high school and junior high school friends, family gatherings, church...
My weekend has abounded with people.
I have loved every moment of it. Even through sickness, not sleeping, and a normal job, these moments have been amazing.
And God has been prompting at my heart door...this is the reason I came, this is the reason you're here.
People matter. So much more than projects or ideas or opinions. God didn't send His Son to earth for projects or clean houses or things. He came for one reason, people.
When I was still writing for YWAM Cook Islands, I wrote a post (http://ywamcookislands.blogspot.ca/2014_01_01_archive.html) and I wrote the lyrics of a song, God loves people more than anything...(See the blog for complete lyrics).
That has been the overlying theme God has placed on my heart in the past few years. I'm learning it deeper and in more ways every day.
God loves people. He came for relationship. He came that we may have life and that we may have it abundantly.
And so what does that mean? How does that change the way that I treat people? How does that change the way that I organize and prioritize my day? What is most important to me? What do I value?
Honestly, sometimes I get stuck. I work for the sake of work. I do missions for the sake of missions. I do hobbies because I enjoy them. (FYI: there's nothing wrong with hobbies, work or missions, that's not what I'm getting at). Sometimes I forget that this is really about people. This is about restoring people to a relationship with a heavenly Father. This is about wholeness and true life.
God is teaching me, because often I'm quick to judge, slow to listen, slow to love. Often, I'm concerned with how people see me, concerned with my own reputation.
When I read the gospels, I don't see any of that in Jesus' life or ministry.
If a friend came up to you and confessed he'd committed adultery, what would you do? If a sister came up to you and confided that she was in bondage to lust or lying, how would you respond? Would you view that individual differently? Would you view them as dirty or unworthy?
Honestly, for much of my Christian life, I had a problem with other peoples' sin. I judged harshly, quickly, demanding a standard few people could live up to unless bound up in legalism and pride. I tried to love, but I so often fell short. I wanted to love people, and so often failed.
God is changing me. As a child, I accepted a challenge to read 1 Corinthians 13, the famous love chapter, every morning and evening for a month, and ask God to teach me to love others the way He commanded.
I grew older, and my desire to love diminished into laws and the need to obey every letter of the law. Then life happened. I failed. I failed at so many things, failed so many people. I messed up, screwed up, put bluntly, failed. Failed at life, failed at relationships, failed at pursuing God's heart. And God began to change me. He has brought me over and over again to 1 Corinthians 13, to 1 John, to many passages in the gospels of Christ's sacrificial love. He brought me to books on relationships, on the love languages, on serving. I'm learning, slowly, tediously, what it means to truly love others, to love others the way Christ loved the church.
It is hard. But it is His heart. It doesn't convenience me in any way. But it is His heart. It continually puts me last, when I so selfishly want to be first. But it is His heart.
I'm learning that this is missions. It's not about a program, or numbers, or projects. It's about people. It has the ability to happen anywhere. From family to friends to the workplace to ministry. It is God's heart to rescue the lost, to restore them, to love on them through us, His children.
God loves people more than anything, More than anything He wants them to know, He'd rather die than let them go...
Hopefully, this is a lesson I'll never stop learning...and I'll never stop sharing...
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Sunday, June 22, 2014
John 8
I'm stuck in John at the moment. I started reading through the New Testament at the beginning of the year. We're halfway through the year and I am still in John 8. Truth be told, I've been in John 8 for a whole week. There's a good possibility that I'll be in John 8 for another week.
The chapter heading in my bible reads, An Adulteress Faces the Light of the World. The story is simple and yet, so profound.
Jesus comes down from the Mount of Olives, early in the morning, dawn is still breaking over the horizon, and begins to teach, at the temple. I imagine there are crowds of people, all around Him, pressing up to Him, the early morning sun is probably giving way to noon's heat. I imagine, dusty roads, dusty crowds, people clamoring for attention and a continual hushing as others try to hear His words. Everyone wants to be with Jesus.
All of a sudden, tall, prideful men push into the centre of the crowd, striding forward until they stand right in front of Jesus. With them is a woman, beautiful, ashamed, meek, doing nothing to hide her sin, tears slipping down her face, she is guilty. She is also sorry.
The men, don't care for her heart, they don't care of her past, they don't see her at all, really, they just know that maybe, with her, they can finally find something to accuse Jesus with.
They have seen the way Jesus acts. His crazy love for people. The way He mingles with sinners, even prostitutes! He's healed on the Sabbath, touched the untouchable. He claims to be God. But surely, here, Jesus' compassion will finally get the best of Him. Clearly, in this case, He has to abide by the law. This woman, must die. Her sin is so great, so obvious, surely she must pay for her actions...
Jesus says nothing. Just stoops down. Writes in the sand. They continue to pester Him, asking over and over again, confident, cocky, sure that His silence means they have finally trapped Him. And so they keep asking.
Jesus raises Himself up and with one sentence He silences them, The one who is without sin can cast the first stone. And He bends down again, continues writing in the dust, silent, sure.
The questioning stops. The condemnation is silenced.
My Bible says that those who heard it were convicted by their conscience and went out, one by one. They left the crowd, from the oldest even to the last. No one was able to stay. All were convicted. Every single one could not say that they had wholly abided by the law. All were guilty. All needed to be stoned.
In time, Jesus raises Himself again, and no one is there, except the accused. She is the lonely remainder. The accusers have left. She stands, and I imagine, is afraid, confused, relieved, unsure of what has just happened. She has escaped certain death, and only one strange man now looks at her, kindness in His eyes.
"Woman," He says, "Where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?"
"No one, lord," she replies.
"Neither do I condemn you. Go, be free, sin no more." I'm sure she leaves in that moment. I am sure she goes with hope in her heart, she has met the Light.
God's love is dust-like, brown in colour...(For other colours see Green, Yellow, Orange, White). It is evidenced in His creation of mankind, created in His image, created out of dust. It is apparent in sending Christ to earth, as man, created out of dust, sent not to enforce the law, but to fulfill the Law. His love is found in John 8, as He stoops, writing in the sand, shown not only to the woman accused, but to her accusers as well...understanding their need for conviction, their need for grace, their need for a Saviour.
I have two thoughts when I read this story:
The first is...Why do we spend so much time condemning and judging one another's sin, horrible as it may be, when we are also all guilty, not one better than the other? There is not one of us without sin, and yet so often we drag others through the dust, bring them to Jesus' feet, crying out see here, this one deserves to die.
The second is...God teach me to love my accusers. Lest in my feelings towards them, I become the accuser rather than the accused. Teach me to love like You love!
Teach me to love without hypocrisy or deceit. Teach me to love with longsuffering and patience, with all kindness in every situation, without jealousy of any sort. Teach me to love in humility, without rudeness or self-centredness. Teach me to love in such a way that is part of my being, that I am never provoked, so that I think no evil or rejoice in sin. Teach me to love with a love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things. Teach me to love with such a love that I would willingly lay down my life, not just for my brother, my sister, my friend, but also for all those that would be my accusers. Transform me God!
The chapter heading in my bible reads, An Adulteress Faces the Light of the World. The story is simple and yet, so profound.
Jesus comes down from the Mount of Olives, early in the morning, dawn is still breaking over the horizon, and begins to teach, at the temple. I imagine there are crowds of people, all around Him, pressing up to Him, the early morning sun is probably giving way to noon's heat. I imagine, dusty roads, dusty crowds, people clamoring for attention and a continual hushing as others try to hear His words. Everyone wants to be with Jesus.
All of a sudden, tall, prideful men push into the centre of the crowd, striding forward until they stand right in front of Jesus. With them is a woman, beautiful, ashamed, meek, doing nothing to hide her sin, tears slipping down her face, she is guilty. She is also sorry.
The men, don't care for her heart, they don't care of her past, they don't see her at all, really, they just know that maybe, with her, they can finally find something to accuse Jesus with.
They have seen the way Jesus acts. His crazy love for people. The way He mingles with sinners, even prostitutes! He's healed on the Sabbath, touched the untouchable. He claims to be God. But surely, here, Jesus' compassion will finally get the best of Him. Clearly, in this case, He has to abide by the law. This woman, must die. Her sin is so great, so obvious, surely she must pay for her actions...
Jesus says nothing. Just stoops down. Writes in the sand. They continue to pester Him, asking over and over again, confident, cocky, sure that His silence means they have finally trapped Him. And so they keep asking.
Jesus raises Himself up and with one sentence He silences them, The one who is without sin can cast the first stone. And He bends down again, continues writing in the dust, silent, sure.
The questioning stops. The condemnation is silenced.
My Bible says that those who heard it were convicted by their conscience and went out, one by one. They left the crowd, from the oldest even to the last. No one was able to stay. All were convicted. Every single one could not say that they had wholly abided by the law. All were guilty. All needed to be stoned.
In time, Jesus raises Himself again, and no one is there, except the accused. She is the lonely remainder. The accusers have left. She stands, and I imagine, is afraid, confused, relieved, unsure of what has just happened. She has escaped certain death, and only one strange man now looks at her, kindness in His eyes.
"Woman," He says, "Where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?"
"No one, lord," she replies.
"Neither do I condemn you. Go, be free, sin no more." I'm sure she leaves in that moment. I am sure she goes with hope in her heart, she has met the Light.
God's love is dust-like, brown in colour...(For other colours see Green, Yellow, Orange, White). It is evidenced in His creation of mankind, created in His image, created out of dust. It is apparent in sending Christ to earth, as man, created out of dust, sent not to enforce the law, but to fulfill the Law. His love is found in John 8, as He stoops, writing in the sand, shown not only to the woman accused, but to her accusers as well...understanding their need for conviction, their need for grace, their need for a Saviour.
I have two thoughts when I read this story:
The first is...Why do we spend so much time condemning and judging one another's sin, horrible as it may be, when we are also all guilty, not one better than the other? There is not one of us without sin, and yet so often we drag others through the dust, bring them to Jesus' feet, crying out see here, this one deserves to die.
The second is...God teach me to love my accusers. Lest in my feelings towards them, I become the accuser rather than the accused. Teach me to love like You love!
Teach me to love without hypocrisy or deceit. Teach me to love with longsuffering and patience, with all kindness in every situation, without jealousy of any sort. Teach me to love in humility, without rudeness or self-centredness. Teach me to love in such a way that is part of my being, that I am never provoked, so that I think no evil or rejoice in sin. Teach me to love with a love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things. Teach me to love with such a love that I would willingly lay down my life, not just for my brother, my sister, my friend, but also for all those that would be my accusers. Transform me God!
Monday, June 9, 2014
Lessons in Stillness
I am learning, here,
to be still. To lie quietly and listen to the wind in the trees. To feel the
hot breath of summer burn through jeans. To hear nothing but my own heart
beating.
The last few years
have been busy. I have made sure that my Christianity was intact, confessed my
sin, worshiped before God, prayed, ministered, served. But I have somehow
forgotten that the best of this flows out of soul, whole, complete in God.
Be still and know
that I am God.
Somehow, my soul is
slightly crippled, a little brittle, hard instead of soft. I have forgotten the
joy of people, the peace of silence, how to truly love so that love is
something that flows out of me into the world around me.
I have done all the
right things, with a heart that desired right, but was lost in doing.
Be still and know
that I am God.
There are many
reasons, I can see, that I am back in La Crete, but this is the one that keeps
coming to mind every day. Be still and know
that I am God. How do I do that? What is stillness? How do I choose to
live in a place where what I do flows from a place of rest, of knowing who God
is? How do I constantly live from a place of surrender?
My perfect day
daydream is to wake up with early morning streaming through the window,
throwing on jeans and a tank top, and padding barefoot upstairs. (Yes, I am a
nerd, and when I daydream, I pad barefoot up the stairs.) I make myself a
steaming cup of coffee, take my Bible, my journal, whatever books I'm reading,
my gel pens and possibly my laptop, to a little table or big soft comfy chair,
and listen, write, read, learn. Later on I make myself a bagel with peanut
butter, and then I write and read and listen some more. Friends come over, I
chat, build relationships, enjoy life. I take photos, draw, bake things. I
live, but not only to live, to experience, and then share the joy of experience
with others. That's my perfect day daydream. People are influenced, lives are
changed through relationship, and my heart is still.
So if that's my
perfect day daydream, it's probably a very simple one. But do I accomplish
that?
Be still and know
that I am God.
As a child, my days
stretched long, there was so much room to imagine, create, learn and grow. I
never found myself wishing for more time, in fact, I don't think that I ever
even thought of time, except for Christmas or my birthday where the thought of 3 more days seemed forever.
Now 3 more days would just not be enough time. So what changed? Is this simply
a rite of adulthood? Time passing too quickly, never having the time to enjoy
stillness, simplicity, people?
Be still.
Know.
I am God.
I think often, I try
to play God. I do too many things. Control too much. Worry about small things.
Forever run lists in my head. Start project after project. Do my best to be
accomplished. Rush to church, rush to Bible study, rush to ministry. I do lots
of things. I take a lot on myself. I forget to surrender.
If God is truly God,
my work will be worship, it will be enjoyable, I will have peace. The people
that come alongside, quirky or difficult, will be joys, treasures. I will not
strive to have more time because each moment, long or short, will be perfectly
allotted. I will live in surrender, freely, constantly before a throne of
grace. His presence indelibly imprinted on my heart.
My days will flow
from a softness of spirit, a soul found in the presence of God. Days will be
treasures. Busyness will be welcome. I have rested in the presence of God. I
have found stillness. I have let God be God.
#stillness #rest #worship
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
An Honest Look at How I'm Doing
Just a small warning, what you are about to read is complete honesty, so if you're okay with that, keep reading, if not...maybe don't read the rest of this post.
People keep asking me, how are you doing? Are you glad to be home? Yes, I say, with a smile on the outside, and a grimace on the inside.
The grimace is not that I'm not glad to be home. I mean it is good to be home, here, with friends and family. The grimace is there, because this is home. What does that mean? you might be asking yourself.
It means, I'm home. This is not a place I've called home for the past 6 years. I don't identify or fit in any longer; my friends have moved on, even my family has moved on, grown, become different, not what I expected. Every day is like relearning a culture that should be familiar because it shaped who I am today, but is so foreign, because I think differently, act differently than before. Life, experience, has changed me.
It means, I'm home. And I have to remind myself everyday, this is where you live now. It's been about 7 weeks, and it still hasn't sunk in that this is where I live. This is me for the next who knows how long. I have to put down roots again, unpack the suitcases, settle.
It means, I'm home. I've cut ties with my family and friends in the Cooks, and now matter how much I miss them, they're not part of my everyday home anymore. I have to move on, stop clinging to the past, accept what God has for me here. It means, I'm home. No matter how homesick I am for past homes, past people, it's time to learn how to do things here, how to build relationships here.
I don't want to accept this. And that's why I smile on the outside, and grimace on the inside. Because even though God is very good, and He is continually assuring me that I am in the right place (even though I'm continually questioning Him), this is very hard. This is starting a whole new life. I praise God and thank Him that He has all things in control, that He knows what He is doing...
But I still want to be out there. I still wonder what He is doing.
I know this will take time. I know that the adjusting will take awhile, I haven't even been in Canada for 2 months yet, I know that it is okay to be sad, to miss what I've left behind, to long to know what is my future. I know this, but it's hard, and that's why I'm writing this post, mostly just to process, but also to ask just for continual prayers as I walk this new season of my life. I believe that God has good things in store and He has already brought so much blessing in my life...
I'm just thankful that I don't have to walk this alone. He is always with me.
For some interesting further reading:
Check out:
http://www.alifeoverseas.com/when-friends-do-the-next-right-thing/
People keep asking me, how are you doing? Are you glad to be home? Yes, I say, with a smile on the outside, and a grimace on the inside.
The grimace is not that I'm not glad to be home. I mean it is good to be home, here, with friends and family. The grimace is there, because this is home. What does that mean? you might be asking yourself.
It means, I'm home. This is not a place I've called home for the past 6 years. I don't identify or fit in any longer; my friends have moved on, even my family has moved on, grown, become different, not what I expected. Every day is like relearning a culture that should be familiar because it shaped who I am today, but is so foreign, because I think differently, act differently than before. Life, experience, has changed me.
It means, I'm home. And I have to remind myself everyday, this is where you live now. It's been about 7 weeks, and it still hasn't sunk in that this is where I live. This is me for the next who knows how long. I have to put down roots again, unpack the suitcases, settle.
It means, I'm home. I've cut ties with my family and friends in the Cooks, and now matter how much I miss them, they're not part of my everyday home anymore. I have to move on, stop clinging to the past, accept what God has for me here. It means, I'm home. No matter how homesick I am for past homes, past people, it's time to learn how to do things here, how to build relationships here.
I don't want to accept this. And that's why I smile on the outside, and grimace on the inside. Because even though God is very good, and He is continually assuring me that I am in the right place (even though I'm continually questioning Him), this is very hard. This is starting a whole new life. I praise God and thank Him that He has all things in control, that He knows what He is doing...
But I still want to be out there. I still wonder what He is doing.
I know this will take time. I know that the adjusting will take awhile, I haven't even been in Canada for 2 months yet, I know that it is okay to be sad, to miss what I've left behind, to long to know what is my future. I know this, but it's hard, and that's why I'm writing this post, mostly just to process, but also to ask just for continual prayers as I walk this new season of my life. I believe that God has good things in store and He has already brought so much blessing in my life...
I'm just thankful that I don't have to walk this alone. He is always with me.
For some interesting further reading:
Check out:
http://www.alifeoverseas.com/when-friends-do-the-next-right-thing/
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