To come to a full knowledge of the love of God is near impossible - I'm going to say, it is impossible.
And yet, I believe, there is a moment in everyone's life when this love finally hits them square in the eye. Like someone has stuck their hand in your chest and have started to squeeze your heart and make it beat again. It may not even be a full and complete version of God's love, but if even a spark of it hits you, it sets you on fire.
For me, it was this summer. I came back from University and literally felt dead in sin. I had entered the 'grey' area, only to find that in my search through the fog, I'd come out on another path. And while I didn't go all the way down, I sat on a log a ways down, waiting and seeing what might happen there.
It's funny though, how once you hit this place, how once you lose yourself and those values you once held dear, then you realize that the foggy place is caused by you. And when I finally realized that, it was like someone took a big wooden board and whacked me on the head with it. I fell down, had a massive headache, and then said, "Lord, I can't do it. I don't want to be on this log anymore. But I can't find my way back through the fog."
And, funny enough, Jesus found me. He didn't just call out to me, he came and grabbed my hand and took me back through.
Here's where the real kicker is: He loved me. He never lost his faith in me, he knew me and my heart, who I wanted to be and what my needs really were, whether or not I was willing to admit those to everyone around me. And then... he filled those voids in. He filled me up with himself. He whispered to me, "I love you. I want you."
And so there I was. Through the fog, on the clear path once again, holding the hand of someone who knew me and loved me so much that he came and met me exactly where I was at, pursued me, wooed me back to him, and married me. Ha, yes, I'm married to God. He calls me beloved, and here I am, the prostitute that loved the world and came wandering back to the only one that gave me anything of value. And now, I have experienced that spark. And I'm so on fire.
God brings us down to lowly places so that we can rise back up with wings. Never look for satisfaction in those worldly things that give happiness for but a moment - I've found it's better to suffer and be isolated and have this love that surpasses knowledge than to do anything that gets me popularity, success, or fame in this life.
Ephesians 3: 14-21
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
Baptism by Waterfall
Most often, the purest faith is that which is lived outside of the normalcy of the church. I got to experience that last night.
One of my best friends became a Christian a year ago, in a rather unconventional way, but one which was no less real than any other. While still a new Christian in many ways, his faith is real, and his life proves it. After telling me two days ago that he wanted to get baptized before going back to University, I searched out a pastor and/or leader who could baptize him before he headed back, and then proceeded to hand him their phone number yesterday. What came next makes for a beautiful story.
After some hesitancy, he called me back two hours later, requesting that my brother and I baptize him in a waterfall where all three of us had together a beautiful God-moment. In fact, most of our times spent together were in nature, and mostly, at waterfalls. So it was very fitting.
Anyways, that night, after homechurch, we gathered together his closest friends who had been there who his journey with God and went down to a waterfall at midnight, where the service began. Beginning with intros from my brother and I, then a full-length testimony from my friend, and then a group prayer, we asked him whether he believed that Jesus was the Son of God, the only true God, and that he died for his sins, to which he loudly exclaimed, "Yes. Yes! YES! I BELIEVE!" His excitement was overwhelming and so genuine. haha.
So continuing, we simply said, "Then in the presence of God and the people here today, we baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." And into the waterfall he went, coming out sopping wet. And my brother and I followed behind. After which proceeded a round of very wet hugs, a rendition of Under the Sea, and laughs of joy and excitement.
So he was baptized by his friends, in a waterfall, at about 1 in the morning.
And it was one of the purest, most sincere, and joyful God-moments I've ever been blessed to be a part of. My friend summed it up nicely - "Don't you think that the angels are dancing and having a party in heaven right now?"
One of my best friends became a Christian a year ago, in a rather unconventional way, but one which was no less real than any other. While still a new Christian in many ways, his faith is real, and his life proves it. After telling me two days ago that he wanted to get baptized before going back to University, I searched out a pastor and/or leader who could baptize him before he headed back, and then proceeded to hand him their phone number yesterday. What came next makes for a beautiful story.
After some hesitancy, he called me back two hours later, requesting that my brother and I baptize him in a waterfall where all three of us had together a beautiful God-moment. In fact, most of our times spent together were in nature, and mostly, at waterfalls. So it was very fitting.
Anyways, that night, after homechurch, we gathered together his closest friends who had been there who his journey with God and went down to a waterfall at midnight, where the service began. Beginning with intros from my brother and I, then a full-length testimony from my friend, and then a group prayer, we asked him whether he believed that Jesus was the Son of God, the only true God, and that he died for his sins, to which he loudly exclaimed, "Yes. Yes! YES! I BELIEVE!" His excitement was overwhelming and so genuine. haha.
So continuing, we simply said, "Then in the presence of God and the people here today, we baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." And into the waterfall he went, coming out sopping wet. And my brother and I followed behind. After which proceeded a round of very wet hugs, a rendition of Under the Sea, and laughs of joy and excitement.
So he was baptized by his friends, in a waterfall, at about 1 in the morning.
And it was one of the purest, most sincere, and joyful God-moments I've ever been blessed to be a part of. My friend summed it up nicely - "Don't you think that the angels are dancing and having a party in heaven right now?"
Thursday, August 25, 2011
In the pursuit of success
Occasionally, I wonder what it really means to be successful. And how exactly I am to pursue this. Or, rather, whether it is really even something worth pursuing.
As I'm finishing off my undergrad, I keep asking myself - where do I want to be in the future? Or, even moreso, who do I want to be? If you have the intellectual ability to attend Cambridge or Harvard or Yale, do you go after it? This is where most people nod their heads and say, of course!
But here's me asking, why? For what purpose? To be recognized as someone who attended this prestigious university? For the recognition of my degree? To become wildly famous and 'successful'?
Okay, so let's say I go to 'x' University, get my degree, and become the UN Secretary-General. Or perhaps, a higher position, the US President. (ha). What have I achieved? Still nothing. Not unless I actually do something for people. Not unless people's lives are better for it.
I guess this all seems like mambo jumbo. But I suppose I wonder to myself whether being in a position of power is really something worthwhile at all, if, in that position, you've lost touch with the entire reason you wanted that position.
I studied International Relations because I want to help the oppressed, I want to love them where they're at, I want to change the system that's making them live the way they are. I want to give them hope for something better, and be involved in their lives. But, if in my 'pursuit of success', I somehow forget to meet the people I'm working for, to know who they are and love them for it, to be inspired by them, then I've forgotten the entire reason I'm doing what I'm doing, and it's only foolishness on my part.
At the end of my life, when I face God and he asks me what I've done, I don't want to say that I attended meeting with powerful diplomats and make a suggestion or two on why we should or shouldn't define a conflict as a genocide. Good grief. I want to say that I was there with the people who were suffering, that I loved them when they needed it, that I showed them who Christ was - his incredible love and compassion - in that situation. If I lose sight of that, shame on me. Wordly success is very often more shameful than we realize - sometimes, the most lowly position is where we find the greatest hope.
As I'm finishing off my undergrad, I keep asking myself - where do I want to be in the future? Or, even moreso, who do I want to be? If you have the intellectual ability to attend Cambridge or Harvard or Yale, do you go after it? This is where most people nod their heads and say, of course!
But here's me asking, why? For what purpose? To be recognized as someone who attended this prestigious university? For the recognition of my degree? To become wildly famous and 'successful'?
Okay, so let's say I go to 'x' University, get my degree, and become the UN Secretary-General. Or perhaps, a higher position, the US President. (ha). What have I achieved? Still nothing. Not unless I actually do something for people. Not unless people's lives are better for it.
I guess this all seems like mambo jumbo. But I suppose I wonder to myself whether being in a position of power is really something worthwhile at all, if, in that position, you've lost touch with the entire reason you wanted that position.
I studied International Relations because I want to help the oppressed, I want to love them where they're at, I want to change the system that's making them live the way they are. I want to give them hope for something better, and be involved in their lives. But, if in my 'pursuit of success', I somehow forget to meet the people I'm working for, to know who they are and love them for it, to be inspired by them, then I've forgotten the entire reason I'm doing what I'm doing, and it's only foolishness on my part.
At the end of my life, when I face God and he asks me what I've done, I don't want to say that I attended meeting with powerful diplomats and make a suggestion or two on why we should or shouldn't define a conflict as a genocide. Good grief. I want to say that I was there with the people who were suffering, that I loved them when they needed it, that I showed them who Christ was - his incredible love and compassion - in that situation. If I lose sight of that, shame on me. Wordly success is very often more shameful than we realize - sometimes, the most lowly position is where we find the greatest hope.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Love
I was asked to write a speech on love for the wedding of a very dear friend of mine - here's my attempt at explaining this rather inexplicable word.
---
Love is something that always seems hard to define. It starts with giggles, with laughter, and "do you think he likes me?" It starts with feelings of respect, of admiration, of care. And then it grows.
Love is friendship. It is, as Aristotle famously put it, one soul in two bodies. You are an unbeatable team. You build each other up, you spur each other on, you give advice, you listen. You're the hand that helps the other up when they're down, and the smile that lights up when the other achieves a goal.
Love is, perhaps, a pursuit that never ends. To let someone know that they are so important to you that you're going to make them breakfast in bed, you're going to buy them flowers spontaneously, and you're going to take a sick day off work because to you, they are the most beautiful movie star, rock star, or model. They are the most precious person in the world.
Love is also, very often, a decision. It is choosing to love someone when they hurt you, when you're yelling at each other, or when you just don't feel the same romance that was there when you first started dating. It is the decision to stick with them through the hurt and the pain because you want them, you want this, everyday and forever. But it is, also, more than that.
I think most importantly, love is selflessness. It is putting someone else, their hopes, their needs, their desires, above your own. You want to support them when they're sad, you want to help them achieve their goals, and you want to make them smile and laugh for no other reason than that it makes them happy. And I think this quality of love is the most beautiful. I think it is, perhaps, the closest a person can get to experiencing the unconditional, sacrificial love of God.
To close, I'd like to share a poem from Shakespeare which has, for me, been the love poem that I come back to time and again.
Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediment.
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover
To remove
Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark
Which looks on tempests and is not shaken.
It is the star to every wandering bark
Whose worth's unknown
Though his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool
Though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come
Love alters not within his brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
---
Love is something that always seems hard to define. It starts with giggles, with laughter, and "do you think he likes me?" It starts with feelings of respect, of admiration, of care. And then it grows.
Love is friendship. It is, as Aristotle famously put it, one soul in two bodies. You are an unbeatable team. You build each other up, you spur each other on, you give advice, you listen. You're the hand that helps the other up when they're down, and the smile that lights up when the other achieves a goal.
Love is, perhaps, a pursuit that never ends. To let someone know that they are so important to you that you're going to make them breakfast in bed, you're going to buy them flowers spontaneously, and you're going to take a sick day off work because to you, they are the most beautiful movie star, rock star, or model. They are the most precious person in the world.
Love is also, very often, a decision. It is choosing to love someone when they hurt you, when you're yelling at each other, or when you just don't feel the same romance that was there when you first started dating. It is the decision to stick with them through the hurt and the pain because you want them, you want this, everyday and forever. But it is, also, more than that.
I think most importantly, love is selflessness. It is putting someone else, their hopes, their needs, their desires, above your own. You want to support them when they're sad, you want to help them achieve their goals, and you want to make them smile and laugh for no other reason than that it makes them happy. And I think this quality of love is the most beautiful. I think it is, perhaps, the closest a person can get to experiencing the unconditional, sacrificial love of God.
To close, I'd like to share a poem from Shakespeare which has, for me, been the love poem that I come back to time and again.
Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediment.
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover
To remove
Oh no! It is an ever-fixed mark
Which looks on tempests and is not shaken.
It is the star to every wandering bark
Whose worth's unknown
Though his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool
Though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come
Love alters not within his brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Epilogue, By Robert Lowell
Those blessèd structures, plot and rhyme—
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?
I hear the noise of my own voice:
The painter’s vision is not a lens,
it trembles to caress the light.
But sometimes everything I write
with the threadbare art of my eye
seems a snapshot,
lurid, rapid, garish, grouped,
heightened from life,
yet paralyzed by fact.
All’s misalliance.
Yet why not say what happened?
Pray for the grace of accuracy
Vermeer gave to the sun’s illumination
stealing like the tide across a map
to his girl solid with yearning.
We are poor passing facts,
warned by that to give
each figure in the photograph
his living name.
why are they no help to me now
I want to make
something imagined, not recalled?
I hear the noise of my own voice:
The painter’s vision is not a lens,
it trembles to caress the light.
But sometimes everything I write
with the threadbare art of my eye
seems a snapshot,
lurid, rapid, garish, grouped,
heightened from life,
yet paralyzed by fact.
All’s misalliance.
Yet why not say what happened?
Pray for the grace of accuracy
Vermeer gave to the sun’s illumination
stealing like the tide across a map
to his girl solid with yearning.
We are poor passing facts,
warned by that to give
each figure in the photograph
his living name.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
The Dreams that Greet You
Last night, I had this dream that seemed to symbolize something for me. I don't really know why God wants me to know this, but perhaps, it has some meaning for me that I'll need in the next little while, or perhaps, that someone reading this needs.
The cottage that my grandpa (recently deceased) and his wife, Fern, lived in for most my life, was recently sold to new cottagers, who then proceeded to tear down the entire home and start rebuilding again. It was a bit of a sore spot, as my grandpa had put so much sweat and work into that house, making it the perfect place for him and Fern.
Anyways, last night, I dreamed that my family was walking along the property of the old cottage that was still in place. There was a little girl with us that was somehow related to my family. I was also the only one who could see the ghost of my grandfather walking with us, and he looked sad. It wasn't scary for me, he didn't even really look at me. He was just walking with us, as if he just wanted to be with the family while we were there.
Anyways, everyone was commenting on how much they were going to miss this cottage, and how much work grandpa had put into it. The little girl ran off towards the dock and the lake, and I chased her and whisked her up into my arms and she laughed. And then I asked her if she thought she would miss the cottage, to which she replied, "Um, no. I don't really know it very well, so I don't think I'll miss it." Which I thought was fair - she was only a few years old.
And then we walked back up towards the house. And there in the house we commented on how beautiful everything was. My brother and I walked over to a new spot of the house, and there was a second floor (which never actually existed in real life). I was curious and said I never remembered that part of the house, and my brother didn't either, so he walked up the steps. I noticed he looked really startled and ran back down the steps. And then, behind him, came a much younger version of my grandfather, walking down the steps in his housecoat. And he sat down at a dinnertable with my family. I sat in the corner with the ghost of my grandfather, who still looked sad, while the rest of my family stared in shock at this man who was my younger grandfather in the flesh. And then my mother started crying.
And I woke up.
There's a number of things that I think I can get from this dream. There's the fact that we were all so focused on the house, this material object, that seemed to actually BE my grandfather. But it wasn't - my grandfather was actually walking with us. And while we certainly have very real memories there, they are the past - as seen in my 'younger grandfather.' The little girl also showed that part of things - she didn't have memories there, and she didn't associate the cottage with anything. It was just the cottage.
What matters is the people in your life. The little girl, who I loved so much in the dream, meant the world to me. My grandfather, who we always commented on how much work he put into his house, but not into his family. And I think that's why he was so sad - and why he wanted to walk beside us while we were there. He loved us so much, but he was sad that all we talked about was how much work he put into a thing, a house. A house without people is only a building, not a home.
And so, I think very much, that it is important for us to make that distinction - we need to treasure the people in our lives, the relationships around us, more than we value the objects and the things that we have. Because, in all honesty, it is not the objects that stay in our memories, but the people that made those objects have some kind of value.
Sweet dreams everyone.
The cottage that my grandpa (recently deceased) and his wife, Fern, lived in for most my life, was recently sold to new cottagers, who then proceeded to tear down the entire home and start rebuilding again. It was a bit of a sore spot, as my grandpa had put so much sweat and work into that house, making it the perfect place for him and Fern.
Anyways, last night, I dreamed that my family was walking along the property of the old cottage that was still in place. There was a little girl with us that was somehow related to my family. I was also the only one who could see the ghost of my grandfather walking with us, and he looked sad. It wasn't scary for me, he didn't even really look at me. He was just walking with us, as if he just wanted to be with the family while we were there.
Anyways, everyone was commenting on how much they were going to miss this cottage, and how much work grandpa had put into it. The little girl ran off towards the dock and the lake, and I chased her and whisked her up into my arms and she laughed. And then I asked her if she thought she would miss the cottage, to which she replied, "Um, no. I don't really know it very well, so I don't think I'll miss it." Which I thought was fair - she was only a few years old.
And then we walked back up towards the house. And there in the house we commented on how beautiful everything was. My brother and I walked over to a new spot of the house, and there was a second floor (which never actually existed in real life). I was curious and said I never remembered that part of the house, and my brother didn't either, so he walked up the steps. I noticed he looked really startled and ran back down the steps. And then, behind him, came a much younger version of my grandfather, walking down the steps in his housecoat. And he sat down at a dinnertable with my family. I sat in the corner with the ghost of my grandfather, who still looked sad, while the rest of my family stared in shock at this man who was my younger grandfather in the flesh. And then my mother started crying.
And I woke up.
There's a number of things that I think I can get from this dream. There's the fact that we were all so focused on the house, this material object, that seemed to actually BE my grandfather. But it wasn't - my grandfather was actually walking with us. And while we certainly have very real memories there, they are the past - as seen in my 'younger grandfather.' The little girl also showed that part of things - she didn't have memories there, and she didn't associate the cottage with anything. It was just the cottage.
What matters is the people in your life. The little girl, who I loved so much in the dream, meant the world to me. My grandfather, who we always commented on how much work he put into his house, but not into his family. And I think that's why he was so sad - and why he wanted to walk beside us while we were there. He loved us so much, but he was sad that all we talked about was how much work he put into a thing, a house. A house without people is only a building, not a home.
And so, I think very much, that it is important for us to make that distinction - we need to treasure the people in our lives, the relationships around us, more than we value the objects and the things that we have. Because, in all honesty, it is not the objects that stay in our memories, but the people that made those objects have some kind of value.
Sweet dreams everyone.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
The Father's Love
It amazes me how, in the times when I feel the most distant, often purposely, from Jesus, how he chases after me as soon as I call out for help. Not only that, but he dusts me off, gives me a slap in the face, and says, "Get your act together girl. You ain't going anywhere if you keep treading down the same line you are. mmmmmmmhm." Or something like that. By the way, I could totally see God saying that.
God has, amazingly, in the span of... not even two months, brought to the surface, and then subsequently solved, about three major issues in my life. So much so, that I've decided to rededicate my life to him, because I realized how out of line my life was with everything Jesus had planned for me. I was, without even really thinking about it, chasing after what the world had planned for me, whilst God was calling me to the narrow gate, to live counter-culturally. To be a citizen of Christ's kingdom on Earth. Which I totally wasn't doing. So, first, I ended a non-Christ-centered relationship. Second, I have given up all alcohol, except for wine with dinner (and that's a rarity), and third, he spoke through someone I had just met to solve a complicated friend problem. It was, literally, exactly what I needed to hear, coming through the mouth of someone I had known for all of a few hours, and she had no idea that she was telling me what God wanted me to know. It was mind-blowing. And THEN, I had this amazing conversation with a friend, after she'd just prayed that God would allow us to talk about whatever he needed us to talk about, and we talked about something I had literally blocked out of my mind because of how much it had hurt me. I'd forgotten about it - and then suddenly, here I was. Talking to my friend about this part of my past that I never wanted to deal with. And soon I was in tears, crying about something I had no intention of telling anyone at all. ever. Blahhhhh. So this is now step number 4 - to deal with this particular part of my past in whatever way I can right now.
So all this to say, God's really doing a number on me. It's refreshing, but talk about a roller coaster. It's like, I'm on the ride right now and screaming my head off, feeling sick, but at the end, I'm going to be like, "... let's do it again!"
All I can think of is that song, "How Deep the Father's Love For Us." It seems to embody exactly how God is guiding me right now, as a dad would his daughter. And I'm just taking it in strides. I'm ready to see what's in store!
God has, amazingly, in the span of... not even two months, brought to the surface, and then subsequently solved, about three major issues in my life. So much so, that I've decided to rededicate my life to him, because I realized how out of line my life was with everything Jesus had planned for me. I was, without even really thinking about it, chasing after what the world had planned for me, whilst God was calling me to the narrow gate, to live counter-culturally. To be a citizen of Christ's kingdom on Earth. Which I totally wasn't doing. So, first, I ended a non-Christ-centered relationship. Second, I have given up all alcohol, except for wine with dinner (and that's a rarity), and third, he spoke through someone I had just met to solve a complicated friend problem. It was, literally, exactly what I needed to hear, coming through the mouth of someone I had known for all of a few hours, and she had no idea that she was telling me what God wanted me to know. It was mind-blowing. And THEN, I had this amazing conversation with a friend, after she'd just prayed that God would allow us to talk about whatever he needed us to talk about, and we talked about something I had literally blocked out of my mind because of how much it had hurt me. I'd forgotten about it - and then suddenly, here I was. Talking to my friend about this part of my past that I never wanted to deal with. And soon I was in tears, crying about something I had no intention of telling anyone at all. ever. Blahhhhh. So this is now step number 4 - to deal with this particular part of my past in whatever way I can right now.
So all this to say, God's really doing a number on me. It's refreshing, but talk about a roller coaster. It's like, I'm on the ride right now and screaming my head off, feeling sick, but at the end, I'm going to be like, "... let's do it again!"
All I can think of is that song, "How Deep the Father's Love For Us." It seems to embody exactly how God is guiding me right now, as a dad would his daughter. And I'm just taking it in strides. I'm ready to see what's in store!
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