Transitioning from SROM

It's been a crazy journey these past two and a half years.

Ryan and I started feeling the Lord whisper that it would soon be time to leave SROM several months ago. In my heart and mind, I thought that meant we'd be transitioning in about a year or so. As January progressed, the Lord made it clear that, no, next fall was not His timing. Nor was May (my next thought). I had all but settled on telling my director that I would be leaving at the end of March, but it was immediately clear that March was still delaying too long. So, last Friday I met with my director and let him know that I would be leaving SROM at the end of this month. My two weeks' notice.

On one level, I have a pretty good idea of what this next season is going to look like. I will be working part-time for a pregnancy care clinic in Laramie for March and April, and I will move to full-time there in May. 

On another level, I have an idea of what I'd like this next season to involve, but I have no idea what this new season will actually be like. 

The phrase that I've had jostling around in my over-crowded brain these past few weeks has been to look for the gold in the every-day. My appetite for reading has voraciously returned, and I've been re-discovering deep truths about God, people, and myself in the pages of Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. I've been listening to lyrics more intentionally, and been encouraged and surprised by how they resonate with me. I've been struck by the beauty of people. And I've been reminded of the tender grace of God to highlight these things in my life. It's not always easy for me to see the beauty of what's directly in front of me, but it's a discipline I want to regain.

So, bear with me, friends. This season will be a lot of working to see gold. It might be refined, it might be raw. I think it's pretty neat either way.

On Faithfulness

I was reading through a previous blog that I had started in college. This post was written while I was in a discipleship program in Upstate New York, and reflecting on the lessons that God was revealing to me through day-to-day circumstances. I found it to be both encouraging and convicting, so I'm reposting it here.

God's faithfulness is not measured in one life, it is measured in His remembrance of His covenants. He is faithful, but I think many of His mercies and gifts are mislabeled and assigned as indicators of His faithfulness. Much of my mentality stems from bad habits and a twisted perspective from which I am still being delivered. Grace is still a new concept for me, and I will probably be learning about it and consumed by curiosity with it for quite some time. But, because of the mentality I grew up with, I think it is necessary for me to distinguish between the two concepts of "faithfulness" and "mercy."

Mercy: compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm; an event to be grateful for, especially because its occurrence prevents something unpleasant or provides relief from suffering.

The small town I currently call my home depends largely on year-round tourism; the summers bring hikers and lakeside vacationers, the winters bring skiers and snowmobilers. Winters without snow mean decreased tourism and the whole town suffers to the extent that snow is brought up as a prayer request frequently during our church service. Is waking up to three inches of fresh powder a sign of God's faithfulness? As tempting as it is to immediately begin praising God for His faithfulness in bringing the much-needed snow, I think it's important to instead recognize an answer to prayer like this as a mercy.

Maybe I'm simply criticizing semantics, but I do think we run the risk of an entitled attitude if we think that God's faithfulness is revealed by whether or not He answers our personal prayer requests. God does care about the little 'non-essential' prayers of His people, but He is by no means bound to answer them according to our wishes in order to prove that He is faithful. When I thank God for His faithfulness in providing a community of Christ-centered people to live with, is my deeper attitude one of deserving the community? "God is doing a great job of staying on top of giving me the things I deserve. Thanks, God!" To be honest, I am sinful and prideful enough to believe that on some level I do deserve the day-to-day blessings of life, and that God is really just giving me the due rewards of living a 'Christian' life.

As I sit here writing, a friend came in and gave me a coffee he had bought for me while we are both on a work break. I hadn't asked for the coffee, but he wanted to bless me with a surprise. (I was blessed.) Is the coffee an indicator of his being a faithful friend? By no means! But say this friend and I had been working together for a few months, and say he took delight in surprising me with a cup of delicious coffee from the local coffee shop each day. I get used to the gift, and begin to expect it as a sort of unspoken agreement in our friendship. Is he an unfaithful friend if he on day decides not to get coffee? Am I justified in being put off because he didn't give me what I had come to expect? The coffee was a gift, and it is no less of a gift the hundredth time it is given than it is the first. All that changes is my perspective. Of course, this analogy will fall apart, but the scenario stops me short when I really ask myself if I would be as surprised and thankful for coffee in a few months as I am sipping it right now. I take far too much for granted. I am all too easily tempted into believing that we all deserve the sun each morning, and that God is just holding up His end of our 'unspoken agreement' in each sunrise or answered prayer.

I want to cultivate an attitude of thankfulness. I want to see each morning as a mercy, and not as something I somehow deserve. I'm still seeking understanding in recognizing God's faithfulness, and it will most likely pop up as another blog post in the future. Either that or Grace. I'm still pretty captivated by Grace.

On Bravery

"You make me brave. You make me brave. You call me out beyond the shore into the waves."

I was listening to this song on and off throughout the week at work, and it wasn't until yesterday that the thought struck me...what do I consider being brave? Listening to this song conjures images of radical acts of selflessness and courage in my mind - overseas missions, innercity missions, standing for the truth and facing real persecution. But what does being brave mean to me in my every day life?

Is it brave to love, support, and submit to my husband when we can't reach an agreement?

Is it brave to offer tea and a place to cry to a friend who has been hurt?

Is it brave to honor those in authority over me?

Is it brave to offer my best work each day at my 8-5 desk job?

Is it brave to love well?

Is it brave to act in obedience, even when I'm bitterly disappointed by giving something up?

Is it brave to raise a family and teach them to love Jesus and to obey His Word?

Is it brave to tithe faithfully?

Is it brave to persevere when I feel taken for granted?

Personally, I see great bravery in people in my life on a daily basis. Consistent, quiet, faithful bravery. I see bravery lived out without calling attention to itself. I see bravery lived out as people choose an intentional life in the face of a world that applauds the easy superficiality. I see my siblings choosing to be parents rather than buddies to their kids. I see my father choosing to work long hours with excellence and integrity. I see my mother choosing to speak hard truths with much love. I see my husband humbly acknowledging when he is wrong, and being willing to grow and change. I see my friends standing for truth in small things that seem easier to compromise. I see fierce love for the orphans, the widows, the outcast, the slandered, the wronged, the forgotten. I see great bravery all around me, most of it stemming from obedience to the One who calls us to live a life that is radically different from the world around us.

What life am I cultivating?

There's recently been a lot of intriguing online press regarding social media and the effect it can have on identity. Whether positive or negative, it seems that no one contests that social media has an effect. For most, that effect is often on self-perception or self-promotion.

I am not going to clamor and assert that social media is inherently anything, good or bad. It is a tool. Tools can be used wisely, tools can be used foolishly. But we cannot blame the tools for how we use them.

My conviction lies more in how I myself use social media, and what life I cultivate. Am I pouring more time and effort into curating an image and cultivating a life online? Or am I spending my time, resources, and energies to pour into the lives of people around me? Am I staging pictures to portray an image of life, happiness, and harmony? Or am I working on relationships with people around me to cultivate connection, truth, and joy? Which is more important to me: experiencing the moment, or capturing a moment? Am I filled with joy by the things I see on my friends' posts, or am I filled with jealousy? 

I often don't have answers to these questions. More often than not, I don't like the answers to these questions when I'm truly honest with myself. But I want to cultivate a life characterized by real connection with real people in real day-to-day life. Much like life, it's a process. The end result isn't a stellar collection of pictures, it's a life lived with intention and presence. 

"Not in My Backyard"

I've seen this phrase tossed around a bit regarding stances on refugees, and I don't understand why people are so offended by it. I wholeheartedly agree. Have people in my backyard? No. Absolutely not. That would be utterly ridiculous.

It's cold out there. What if you're a family with little kids? There are no lights out there to turn on in case they get scared of the dark. Not to mention that there isn't much room in three squares of cement, and cement is no place for you to sleep.

Come into my home.

Come into my home and stay with us. Sleep on our bed, use our kitchen, use our towels, use whatever you need, whatever you'd like. What do you need? If we don't have it, we'll get it. Teach me how to cook your favorite foods, and don't worry about paying for the groceries. Teach me about who you are, what you love, what you're passionate about, what makes you laugh. Teach me about your country, and please have patience and grace for me in my ignorance. Let me laugh with you; let me cry with you. (Fair warning, I cry pretty easily.) Please let us share what we have with you. It's not much, but it would be our great privilege to share it with you.

If you ask me if I've believed all of the vitriolic rhetoric surrounding refugees, I'll tell you honestly that I did at first; that I still fight the shadows of doubts and fears and prejudices. I will ask for your forgiveness with tears in my eyes, because I am truly sorry for allowing fear to be my first response. But I want to learn how to be driven by love and compassion. I'll tell you that I was scared to open my home to people I don't know. But I don't want my fear to be bigger than my love. I'll tell you that, at my core, I battle with extreme selfishness, greed, and fear, and I need to kill those impulses daily. I'll tell you that I still have so much to learn about love, and that opening my home is a chance to learn more about sacrificial love. I want to learn how to love in practical, specific ways...not simply in abstract ideals.

If you ask me then why I've opened my home and my life to you even though I was afraid, I will gladly tell you about the One who owns everything I have and everything I am. The One who gave me everything I have so I could share it with you. The One who gently teaches me that my love should be bigger than my fear. The One who promises that no matter what happens on this earth, in this nation, in this family, in this home, to the people I love more than words can express...He holds the eternal future. The One who loves you, and who weeps with you. He's too big for my words to express, and I hope my actions do more justice when my words fail.

If you don't want to ask, if you just need to be listened to, if you just need a quiet, safe space, come into my home. But please, not in my backyard. It's cold out there.

Maundy Thursday

Lent is my favorite season in the liturgical calendar. I love the extended time to focus on the life, ministry, and death of Christ. And I love the anticipation that it builds toward celebrating the Resurrection! It can be such a beautiful season of fasting, grieving, and thorough celebration.

To be honest, this season of Lent hasn't felt very focused for me. Ryan and I were out of town for nearly every weekend in March, which put our search for a church home in Laramie on hold for a bit longer than we were expecting. In addition to that, work at SROM has been incredibly full and a little overwhelming for me at times. It's been a hard season to focus! But I'm realizing that I am thankful for two things: one, that my salvation is not based on whether or not I can keep myself focused and fasting for forty days. And, two, that there is still time to experience some of the richness of this season! God is so good like that, isn't He? To remind us of things that we've distracted ourselves from in enough time to still get to experience them! What a gift!

I pray that in this weekend is a time of rest and reflection. I pray for the grace to sit at the feet of my Lord and meditate on His sacrifice. I pray for a deeper understanding of the Resurrection, and an overwhelming joy and celebration on Sunday!
 

Jehovah Jireh

"Jehovah Jireh

My Provider

His grace is sufficient for me"

 

Ryan and I were in San Fransisco last week for his brother's wedding (which was spectacular!) and then spent the next few days exploring. We were so grateful to get to spend time with his family in California, and we couldn't be happier for Eric and Jenn! 

(my best man)

After the wedding on Saturday, we spent the next Sunday and Monday hanging out with his family and exploring local vineyards, olive oil presses, and the bay area of San Fransisco. We got a little taste of California's redwoods on Monday morning, which got us even more excited for Yosemite! We made it to the park on Tuesday evening, and even squeezed in a little hike after setting up camp Tuesday night. (We probably could have hiked for longer if I hadn't stopped so often to gape at the gorgeous views and take pictures of everything.)

 

Wednesday we hiked up the Mist Trail to Vernal and Nevada falls. We stopped for lunch at the top of Nevada Falls, and reconsidered our options for the rest of the day. Though we had initially thought of just hiking to the waterfalls, we changed our itinerary and decided to continue on the Muir Trail up to Glacier Point. It was a long, hot, dry hike, but the views were absolutely spectacular. The hike up the Panorama Trail gave us an incredible perspective, and we could see Half Dome, all of Vernal and Nevada Falls, and Illilouette Falls. From Glacier Point, we could see nearly the entire valley. It was well worth the 16+ miles and staggering back to camp after dark!

 

We slept in on Thursday morning, packed up camp, did a few quick (paved) trails to Lower Yosemite Falls and Bridal Veil Falls, and said goodbye to Yosemite. We had been hoping to spend some time in the Tahoe National Forest, but realized that it would take us way further out of our way than we had initially planned for. So we stopped at Lake Tahoe for a few hours instead!

Representing SROM at Lake Tahoe!

We drove across most of Nevada on Friday, and stopped for dinner in the little town of Wendover, just west of the Salt Flats of Utah. When we got back on the one-way section of I-80 after dinner, the dreaded engine light came on and the engine gauge indicated that we were in danger of overheating. We pulled over, popped the hood, and let the engine cool down a bit. Ryan checked the coolant levels and we were completely dry...it had sprayed out and was leaking out the bottom of the car. Thankfully we had filled up our water bottles before we had left that morning, so we had plenty of water to use until we could make it to a gas station (54 miles away) for coolant. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite that easy. We started driving again, and almost immediately had to pull over again. The engine was still indicating dangerously high temperatures. As it turns out, the radiator hose had separated from the radiator, and all of our water had drained out. We had the Jeep towed to a local mechanic in Wendover and booked a hotel for the night. After the mechanic had taken a look at it, he showed Ryan and I that it wasn't as simple as replacing the radiator hose; the piece of the radiator that connects to the hose had completely melted off, and we would need to replace the entire radiator. He said he had found one at the local junkyard that seemed like it would work, and that he still would probably be able to get us on the road by closing time (3:00pm). If the one from the junkyard couldn't work, the mechanic said he could order one and have it in Wendover by Tuesday. (Tuesday!!)

(there's just something poetic about being broken down in the desert)

Long story short, the junkyard radiator was just different enough that it couldn't work. Ryan and I rented a car, drove to Salt Lake City, and searched for a radiator there. The parts store that had initially said they had the correct radiator had the same model as the junkyard: no good for us. We finally found a usable radiator in the little town of Toole, and made it back to Wendover at around 4:00pm. The mechanic (who I now believe is a chain-smoking angel on earth) stayed late in order to get the radiator in our Jeep and get us on the road!

As we were (finally) driving back to Wyoming, I had a lot of time to think about God and His provision. Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. God provided a radiator and a skilled (and generous) mechanic for us in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada! But that is not what makes God my Provider. 

God is my Provider because He has provided an atonement for my sin and a way back to restored relationship with Him. As the season of Lent draws to a close, I'm so grateful for this reminder! Yes, God has and continues to provide for Ryan and I. On a very tangible level, I get to continue to work at SROM because God provides financial support for me each and every month! But I think I can get too used to the idea that God provides what I think I need on a day-to-day basis, and I forget that the greatest demonstration of His provision is first and foremost that He provided a way for this sinner to return to Him. If we had been stuck in Wendover for a year, God would still be Provider. If all of my monthly financial support stopped today, God would still be Provider. If all of my perceived needs were never met again, God would still be Provider.

It's a hard concept for me to wrestle around in my mind. I confess, I think I've become comfortable. I've become accustomed to having enough to eat and a safe place to live; I'm accustomed to having my basic needs met. And while I absolutely recognize that it is all from God's hand that these things come, I'm tempted to base my understanding of His provision on whether or not my needs are being met. As Ryan and I were searching for a radiator, I confess being a little frustrated with God: "Why haven't You provided one yet? Are You going to provide in my timing, or am I going to have to figure this one out myself?" I began to wane in my trust of His provision because I was too narrowly focused on the here and now. Jehovah Jireh, my Provider. His grace is sufficient for me. His grace is sufficient for me.

His grace is sufficient for me. In His grace, He provided a perfect Savior for me. If I don't see that as enough, I am woefully underestimating my own sinfulness and His righteousness.

Lord, You are my Provider. You provided a way where there was none. You provided a perfect sacrifice through Jesus, and You provide grace for each day. Thank You. And thank You for little day-to-day reminders of Your total provision. You are so Good. You are so Good to me.

Justice is not my Savior

"When through grace in Christ our trust is,

Justice smiles and asks no more."

-- John Newton, Let Us Love and Sing and Wonder

All too often I find myself putting my faith and hope in Justice. I expect the scales to be blind and unbiased, and yet I expect Justice to be on my side. I expect Justice to agree with me and to help me determine my morality. I want Justice to direct me, guide me, and gently correct me when I err. I want Justice to be swift when I feel wronged, but slow to anger against me when I have a good excuse.

The problem with this is that Justice does none of those things. Justice does not gently correct, it demands an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Justice does not determine my morality, unless my morality is to do only that for which I am rewarded and avoid doing that for which I will be punished. Justice--true Justice--shows no favoritism, holds no record of past merits to bail one out of present infractions; Justice can show no partiality, no grace, and will not acknowledge extenuating circumstances.

If I turn to Justice as my savior, Justice rightly condemns me before a perfect God. If I turn to Justice as my savior, I am bitterly disappointed because of the evil I see in this world. Justice isn't big enough to be my savior.

My Savior is Just, but He is also Grace, Patience, and Love. My Savior is firm in His correction, but He is also gentle. My Savior is Good, and He is eternal. He will bring Justice, but He has first extended His hand in friendship. My Savior loves and seeks the orphan, the widow, the downtrodden, the hurting; my Savior loves and seeks me. My Savior trusts me to seek others on His behalf. My Savior is my true and lasting hope. My Savior is forgiving. My Savior is my Guide, and He sticks with me even when I ignore His direction and cry out against the consequences of my stubborn choices. My Savior shows me how to extend grace, patience, and love to those that I would rather throw at the feet of Justice.

My Savior is not a doormat. He will not tolerate the injustice of this world for long. He will come and He will set things right in His kingdom. My Savior is strong, and He is fierce. He has all authority in Heaven and on Earth, and He will come in power to exercise it. 

And yet, my Savior waits. He waits so that He may cover yet more people with His righteousness before He comes wielding true Justice. He waits so that more may joyfully sing, 'when through grace in Christ our trust is, Justice smiles and asks no more.' 

And so I am torn between the two: I desire for Christ to come in glory, which is better by far. But He deems it more necessary for us that He waits. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you to know Him and make Him known.

Fullness

My life is messy. It is not perfect. It is not glamorous. In the virtual world of curated social media, my life is not even that photogenic. But, little by little, I'm learning how to live a full life.

My life is full. It is filled with working at a job that I love. It is filled with celebrating the little victories and little wins that happen every week. It is filled with hot beverages. It is filled with quiet moments on the couch. It is filled with laundry and cleaning and endless dishes. It is filled with joy. It is filled with music. It is filled with laughter and smiles and tears and silence. It is filled with empty journals. My life is filled with eye contact. It is filled with small talk and big talk. It is filled with editing. It is filled with grocery shopping and recipe hunting. It is filled with unhealthy comparison. It is filled with tender moments. My life is filled with words, both written and spoken. It is filled with doubt and questions. My life is filled with hugs. It is filled with staring blankly into space. It is filled with ambition that needs direction. It is filled with people. It is a messy, imperfect life. And it is full of love. 

Mine is a life in progress. I don't have all the answers, and I probably never will, but I'm learning to articulate the things I know and to appreciate the perspective that experience gives me. I'm learning to change the things I don't like, and make myself aware of the things I do like. I'm learning again to be disciplined - personally, professionally, and spiritually. I'm learning to stop comparing my life to others I see, and to make this life be the kind that I want to live. And I'm learning how to let people into the messiness and unfinished-ness.

On Receiving Love

"Love is the expression of the one who loves, not of the one who is loved.  Those who think they can love only the people they prefer do not love at all.  Love discovers truths about individuals that others cannot see."

-Soren Kierkegaard 

A coworker shared this quote with me several months ago, and I've had it posted on my desk for so long that I have ceased to notice it's there.  Thankfully it stuck in my brain enough to be recalled the past few days as I've been thinking about love and newly-wedded bliss.

Last night Ryan and I celebrated our first month of marriage, and even though it's been only one month I have realized quite a bit about myself...particularly how difficult it is for me to simply receive love.  Ryan is a very patient man and very good at reminding me that he loves me for who I am, not for the things I do.  His love for me is reassuring because I know him to be a consistent, faithful, man.  The more I know him, the more I can trust his love.  

If Kierkegaard is right about love (and he generally knew what he was talking about), love is an expression more than it is a reflection.  Ryan's love for me is an expression of who he is, not a reflection of who I am.  The more I learn about who Ryan is, the way he lives day-to-day life, the little quirks that make him who he is, the more I learn about how he loves me.  Additionally, the more I get to know Ryan, the more he is able to teach me how to love him.  (There is always a small part of me that worries that I'm not doing enough to let him know how much I love him, how interested in him I am, or how much I want to learn more about him.  I want to know him better because I want to love him better because I already love him so much!)

Because marriage is a metaphor for how Christ loves the Church, and because I tend to learn best in metaphors, I extrapolate much in regards to my relationship with Christ from my marriage.  It's always been difficult for me to receive the unconditional, priceless grace and love of God.  For a long time I lived under self-imposed pressure to prove to God how much I loved Him and how much I valued His grace and mercy.  To be honest, I didn't really understand His heart and what He desires of us, so I was unable to receive His love or truly love Him back.  But God's love for me is an expression of who he is, not a reflection of who I am.  God loves me perfectly, purely, constantly because He is Perfect, Pure, and Constant.  If I want to get to know God more (which I do!) I need to begin by letting go of my preconceived notions of who He is and learn about who He actually is through His love.

1 John  4:7-12 gives us a glimpse into this mystery:

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.  Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.  Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.  This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him.  This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.  Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.  No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

"No one has ever seen God: but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us."  We learn more about who God is by expressing His love to others in our lives.  And, in so doing, that Love changes us and is "made complete in us."

I wish I understood this better.  The more I wrestle with this concept of love, the more I realize that I don't get it.  In order to understand God more, I need to receive His love more fully...but in order to receive His love more fully, I need to first express that love to others?  Or is it that in seeking to love others that I learn more about who God is because I understand the nature of His love better as I realize that He is much better at loving the unlovable than I am?  Is it in realizing my own shortcomings of love that I realize the vast perfection of His love?  All of the above?

Am I really surprised that I'm realizing how little I know about love after a month of being married?  Nope.  Just scratching the surface.  But I am excited to continue to learn about the connection between giving and receiving love and how it informs the "discovery of truths about individuals that others cannot see."  And I am thankful that I have a very patient husband and an infinitely more patient Savior to take this journey with me.

Obedience Without an Agenda

Last weekend I was flipping through Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest, one of my absolute favorite devotionals.  One of the ideas that jumped out to me was exposed the mentality that if I hear God and I obey His calling, He will make me successful.  God's ultimate purpose in giving me a command must be my success, right?  (Or, if the concept of "success" has negative connotations, I can easily substitute "fruitfulness."  God's ultimate purpose in giving me a command must be my fruitfulness, right?)

I think this expectation is much more present in my life than I realize.  I am willing to take great risks for God because of the underlying assumption that success or 'fruit' is on the immediate other side.  "Lord, you want me to move out to Wyoming to work without a salary for a non-profit outdoor ministry?  Awesome!!  You must have a ton of immediately-gratifying work for me to do!"  It sometimes works that way, and it's great when it does!  The problem is that I quickly expect things to always be that way.  I grow frustrated and feel unfulfilled when my obedience to God doesn't lead to me feeling immediately happy, successful, or useful.

God is concerned with our holiness, not simply our fruitfulness.  Fruit overflows from holiness, but it can never be the other way around.  Fruit produced by my own strength or for my own agenda quickly rots.

There are a lot of strong commands regarding bearing fruit in Jesus' teachings (Matthew 3:10, Matthew 7:16-20, Matthew 21:43, Luke 3:8-9, etc.), so I don't want to belittle the importance of bearing good fruit.  I recognize that it is so important to "let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds [good fruit] and glorify your Father in heaven."  (Matthew 5:16)  Fruit is important! but it is not the most important.  Jesus gives us a sobering reminder in John 15: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. [...] Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing."  (ESV)  I've written on this before, but it is still something I so quickly forget:

God calls us to obedience so that we may abide with Him.  It is through our abiding with Him that He brings about holiness in our lives.

Obedience is the means to the end of intimacy with our Savior, our Lord, our King.  Fruitfulness or success can never be our ultimate end for obedience.  If fruitfulness or success is the end that I'm seeking, I've made fruit the object of my worship...my idol.  I've focused more on my sacrifice than the One to whom I offer it.  I'm more concerned with what I think the Lord wants than with patiently waiting and continuing with faithful obedience, regardless of how long it takes for Him to reveal His purposes.

Are we really so foolish that we can think to manipulate the Almighty by obeying Him with our own agenda in our hearts?  "God, I will obey You so that You can bring about the results I desire."  Lord, teach me to obey You without an agenda!  Teach me to obey You with a heart that desires intimacy with You above all else.  Give me a heart that rejoices in fruit, but that does not turn to the fruit for satisfaction and affirmation.  Give me a craving for intimacy with You that leads to holiness; guard me from feeling that fruit entitles me to holiness or intimacy with You.  It is by Grace alone that I can abide with You.  Thank You for Your Grace!

Something Worth Celebrating

I was fortunate enough to spend all last week back at my parents' house in Illinois.  I spend wonderful time playing with my nieces and holding my (enormous) 8-month-old nephew; I got to see the house my sister and brother-in-law recently bought; I had a few precious times of video chatting with my Grandpa John in Florida; I celebrated with good friends at a wedding; and we celebrated Christ's resurrection at an Easter Vigil on Saturday night.  It was absolutely wonderful to get to spend so much time with family and friends, and to get to experience springtime in the Midwest.  (I forgot how green everything becomes!!  Laramie's biggest source of green at the moment are the pine trees and store awnings.)

There are a few very important lessons I learned while I was at home:

1.  No one, not even Idina Menzel, can sing "Let it Go" as passionately as a 3-year-old.

2.  Coffee ground for a drip machine should never, ever be used in a French Press.

3.  When hiding Easter eggs for toddlers, never give them the benefit of the doubt: "hide" the eggs in absolutely obvious plain sight.  And stand next to the ones that might be partially obscured and give hints like "Have you smelled these flowers?  They smell like chocolate!"

4.  I wouldn't trade my family in for all the creme eggs in the world.

It hit me this past week at several moments that Christ's resurrection is truly something worth celebrating.  It is the resurrection that gives us hope and peace in the face of death.  It is the resurrection that gives us the ability to endure suffering with grace.  It is the resurrection that gives us joy in life because we don't fear death.  Death doesn't win; death doesn't get the final word.

My family and I are facing the imminent passing of my Grandpa John, and it's been hard to see him suffer so much pain as he rapidly declines.  My mom reminded me last night that this is what God was trying to protect us from in the Garden: we were never meant to experience the pain and grief that comes with dying and watching loved ones die.  By the same token, this is the victory Christ won over Death!  This is the victory of the resurrection.  This pain and grief serves to remind us that this is not our home, but that through Christ we are headed home.

Grandpa John is an amazing man who is so ready to see the King he has faithfully loved and served during his life.  He has set a foundation of faith for our family, and I know that I am living in the blessing of that foundation.  It is the resurrection that gives my family and I the ability to celebrate my grandpa's life, even as we mourn his soon passing.  As my aunt phrased it, "he is almost to the Gate, and it's beautiful."  Thank you Lord for the life of this incredible man.

If there is anything worth celebrating, it is the resurrection.  Alleluia, Christ is Risen indeed.

Reflections on Lent

From what I can tell, the season of Lent often gets a bad reputation for being legalistic, contrived, and a contributor to a works-based righteousness mentality.  I agree that we need to avoid legalism and going through the motions without engaging at a heart level.  I agree that we need to avoid works-based righteousness and to avoid seeing Lent as a means to 'earn' our way to holiness.  But the same can be true of any of the spiritual disciplines we practice at any point in time!  We need to avoid throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

There are absolutely times that I don't feel like fasting, or reading my Bible, or praying, or worshiping, or any other of the spiritual disciplines.  There are times when it feels like I'm going through the motions and when the actions that I do are stale.  There are times when my relationship with God feels distant and I feel apathetic.  There are times when everything about following Christ feels empty.  There are times when my relationship with God is incredibly fulfilling and I feel so satisfied in Him!  There are times when all I want to do is rejoice in who He is and what He has done.  There are times when my relationship with Jesus brings me such amazing Joy!  Feelings can be great!

But Love is not a feeling.

My relationship with Christ is not based on how I feel, much in the same way that my relationship with family and loved ones is not based on how I feel toward them at any given moment.  If those relationships were based on feelings, I would give up every time things became difficult, or communication was stressful, or I was dissatisfied or disappointed or tired or hungry.  My feelings are fickle!  I can't base my human relationships on how I feel, so why is that mentality so prevalent in regards to a relationship with God?  

Love is not a feeling, it is a choice.  I choose to stick with my family through the hard times (and by the grace of God they stick with me!) knowing that those hard times do pass.  When I tell someone that I love them, I'm reaffirming my commitment to them and to the relationship between us.  When a relationship is damaged I might not necessarily feel like putting forth the effort to mend it, but unless something changes the relationship will continue to grow distant.  By putting my own feelings aside and meeting the other person wherever they may be, I'm showing them the depth of my love.  I'm not trying to prove that I love them, but I am acting out that love.

When I feel distant from God and that relationship feels empty, I need to discipline myself to continue to pray, to continue to read His Word, and to continue to seek Him.  It is the times when those feelings are gone that I need to press in and practice spiritual disciplines the most.  When those feelings are gone and I still press in to God, I'm saying (to myself almost more than to God) that He is more important to me than the way that I feel; that He is more constant than my immediate emotional state of being; that relationship with Him is worth the effort even if I don't see immediate results.  

God has already made the ultimate display of Love in the life, ministry, and sacrifice of Christ Jesus.  He has already met us where we were (and continues to meet us where we are) that we may be reconciled to Him and know His great Love.  Therefore, when I feel emptiness, when I feel distance, when I feel stale and apathetic toward God, it is because of the state of my own heart, not because He has failed me in some way.  It is because I have grown complacent, or prideful, or self-satisfied, or entitled, or any number of things that I gravitate toward naturally.  I need the outside structure of disciplines - of Lent - to keep my own feelings in their proper place.  

Lord, please use this season of Lent to draw me closer to You.  Remind me that my relationship with you is garnished by feelings, but that those feelings do not make up the substance of our relationship.  Remind me to seek You in the faith that You are always there and that You desire to be found by me.  I pray that You would draw me into deeper relationship with You, and that You would give me the grace to continue to seek You even when I don't feel like it.  I love You, Lord.

Sip, Don't Guzzle

One of the reasons that I love wilderness ministry so much is the near-endless metaphors I see for life.  One of my dear friends has worked as a guide at YoungLife Wilderness Ranch, and I think they say it well:  "Life is like the trail, and the trail is like life."

One of the reminders I need most consistently is that of daily dependence.  The truth of it is, we were never made to be "one and done" creatures.  Our bodies aren't made that way, our hearts aren't made that way, our spirits aren't made that way.  I get this reminder frequently in the wilderness when I have to remind myself (and others) to be continually sipping from water bottles.  To be frank, staying hydrated can be incredibly inconvenient.  I have to stop, dig out my water bottle, catch my breath, and try to sip carefully without dumping it all over myself.  (Okay, so it doesn't sound all that bad...but think about trying to drink from a full wide-mouthed Nalgene with a fully-loaded 85L pack on without losing your balance on a narrow, rocky trail.)  Not only that, but I have to make these stops frequently.  How much more convenient it would be to chug one or two water bottles with breakfast before hitting the trail and have that hydrate me for the day!  Unfortunately, our bodies can usually only process about a quarter of a gallon every hour; that's a maximum of 4 cups of water per hour.  Drinking a ton of water all at once won't really benefit me much at all, and it will mostly just pass through my system...leading to other inconveniences along the hike.  It's much more beneficial to be taking small sips here and there throughout the day.  (Thus the glorious invention of the hydration bladder!)

As we say on the trail, "sip, don't guzzle."  

It's easy for me to slip into the habit of working off my own strength during the week (or month...or year...) and fooling myself into thinking that I'll "catch up" with Jesus eventually.  When I invariably get behind on a year-long Bible reading plan, I brush it off with the thought that I'll just cram all of the week's readings in over the weekend.  If I haven't been spending regular time in prayer, I tell myself that I'll dedicate hours to journal and pray sometime soon...eventually.  (Here's hoping I don't try and extend this mentality to fasting...)  Sometimes in my 'urgent' mentality, staying dependent on the Lord can seem incredibly inconvenient.  I have to stop what I'm doing, dig out my Bible or my journal, carve time out of my too-hurried schedule, and sit and be quiet and wait on Jesus.  Not only that, but I have to remind myself to stop and be still frequently.  It would be so much more convenient to be able to just load up my spirit on time with the Lord and have that carry me through until I feel thirsty again!  Inconveniently, my spirit needs more than just a 'one and done' relationship with the Lord.  Fortunately, He is not satisfied with just my weekends or the time that deem free enough to spend with Him.  Christ wants all of my life, and He wants me to invite Him into every corner.

In my relationship with Christ, I need to fight against the instinct to guzzle.  I benefit so much more from taking "sips" throughout the day:  listening to Scripture while at work, finding things to thank Him for throughout the day, stopping to see the sunrise or set while marveling at His colors painted on the clouds, praying for students before making course check-in calls, spending mornings reading from His Word, journaling regularly, praying without ceasing.  These are all things that I wish I could say I did with regularity.  I wish I could say that I don't see this ongoing need as an inconvenience, or worse, as a challenge to my independence.  ("You're telling me I need You every minute of every day?  I bet I don't!  I bet I can do it all by myself!")  

If I refuse to acknowledge my need for water along the trail, I grow weak, get headaches, and become a liability to my travel group.  If I refuse to acknowledge my need for Christ throughout my day, I burn out, become irritable and frustrated, and grow distant from the community around me.  If I try to guzzle too much water at once, it passes uselessly through my system and makes me have to pee a lot.  If I try to cram all of my time with Jesus into a few short hours once or twice a week, I don't really retain anything and end up not really seeing how He wants to change my habits and thought patterns.  

Lord, give me the grace to sip from Your Word throughout the day.  Remind me of how You are the only one that truly satisfies my thirst.  Let me see this ongoing need for You as a blessing rather than an inconvenience.  Let me be like a tree planted by streams of water, constantly soaking You in and growing in You.  Guard me against self-dependence and free me from the busyness I so eagerly embrace.  Give me quiet times with You, and may I be satisfied only by You.

Cumulative Impact

Those familiar with the Leave No Trace (LNT) principles will know that the phrase 'cumulative impact' is frequently used to describe the effect of outdoor enthusiasts on the environments in which we play.  One hiker sidestepping a muddy patch of trail won't do much damage; but a hundred hikers sidestepping the same muddy patch will widen the trail substantially.  On the other side, one person choosing to clean up Snickers wrappers and microtrash from a campsite won't have much effect on the entire mountain range; but a hundred hikers consciously picking up after themselves (and others) will leave a much larger area in better condition.  One decision might not effect noticeable change, but the cumulative impact of decisions effects significant change.  

The same philosophy is true in one's walk with the Lord.  I cannot simply pray once and expect a deep relationship with my heavenly Father.  That relationship, like all relationships, must be intentionally cultivated.  Soren Kierkegaard notes in Fear and Trembling that his generation is losing sight of the richness of a deep faith:

 "In our time nobody is content to stop with faith but wants to go further.  It would perhaps be rash to ask where these people are going, but is is surely a sign of breeding and culture for me to assume that everybody has faith, for otherwise it would be queer for them to be...going further.  In those old days it was different, then faith was a task for a whole lifetime, because it was assumed that dexterity in faith is not acquired in a few days or weeks."

 If this was true for Kierkegaard's generation, how much more so for our generation!  I will not assume to speak for others, but I know that I have absolutely lost sight of what it means to live in a quiet daily relationship with my God.  I often find myself wanting a deeper, more intimate, more fulfilling relationship with God...but I find other pursuits to distract myself and tell myself that I'm just refusing to settle for a quiet, inconsequential faith.  I tell myself that when the timing is right, when I read the right theologians, when I can subdue my own heart, that some ambiguous day in the future I will finally "get it" and intimacy with God will happen.  I expect immediate gratification, immediate intimacy with One to whom I won't even give 5 minutes each day.  My proud heart is not content to seek the Lord in something so antiquated as daily time with Him.  

"When the tried oldster drew near to his last hour, having fought the good fight and kept the faith, his heart was still young enough not to have forgotten that fear and trembling which chastened the youth, which the man indeed held in check, but which no man quite outgrows...except as he might succeed at the earliest opportunity in going further.  Where these revered figures arrived, that is the point where everybody in our day begins to go further."

 I pray that I learn the discipline of a quiet faith.  I pray that I learn to live in the hope of intimacy.  I pray that I learn to curb my tendencies to want "go further" and instead learn that faith is a task for a whole lifetime.  I pray, hope, and know that the cumulative impact of a quiet faith is a powerful intimacy with the Lord.