A Failing Attempt

The beginning of this week brought a lot of time to be still. God used the circumstances of me having a sinus infection that wiped me out to put me in such a place where I would seek Him. It was three days of prayer in a way I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before. The urgency was written upon my heart to do accordingly. What I found in that time has been a greater and deeper understanding of God that I have never had before. The statement I just wrote frustrates me to no end because it sounds so cliché. It is a statement largely based off of common sense of any believer. But what I cannot convey in words is the infinite level of depth found in our Lord that we have the opportunity to venture into. It never ends. And so what comes with this venture of seeking Him out not on our own terms but on His is really beyond description. It amazes me how seldom I truly sit at His feet and listen, but what amazes me more is what happens as a result of actually performing that action. I have found God to be taking off the things that have blinded and hindered me for so long, and I am now seeing and walking in a completely different light. When I truly start getting out of the way, God is able to have His way in me.

I would say as a result of that I have felt over stimulated. There has been such new insight, truth, and love poured forth as I’ve been at His feet. There’s an onslaught that I’ve never experienced before. And over this week, I have felt God calling me largely to be quiet. Not in every circumstance, but in most. I understand that a bit better now…

I think as a writer my mind deals with the double-edged sword that these words often bring. My heart desires so much to convey what God is doing through words, and so I strive towards that end. Yet at the same time, I know my words are continually a failing attempt to do such a thing. And as I wrote in a different place last night, I found yet another aspect of control that was surrendered.

I will no longer keep these written words for the goal of being able to capture what God is doing and the movement outward and within. Instead, this will be a striving towards a failing attempt. These written accounts will not cease, but the striving towards this aspect of “perfection” in being able to tell of all and everything God is doing will cease.
God is so infinitely beyond my words.

And I wonder what my praise offering to Him is to look like. I’ve been finding such a peace in old hymns and the words written there. There’s such a beauty in knowing that those aren’t my words. I find myself singing these words throughout the day and feeling a renewal in ways I cannot describe. Oh, how I love to sing! Oh how I can pour forth emotion and not let this love I have for my Savor be contained!

What I keep coming back to is this: even in the midst of gaining insight and wisdom from the Holy Spirit, the love of God draws me deeper within. The truth of His ways and thoughts being higher than mine rings very true right now. But in that, the greater discovery is that we may know His heart. It is beyond description and cannot be conveyed. The love that breathes death into life, despair into hope, ashes into beauty, is so much more than a beautiful, poetic love. It is beyond all thought, all description, all devices which humans attempt to use to convey it. It is more real than anything we will ever find, because it is not confined to human limitations and measures. How can I convey what the love of God is doing within? I cannot.

I cannot.

The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star,
And reaches to the lowest hell;
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled,
And pardoned from his sin.

Refrain

O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure
The saints’ and angels’ song.

When years of time shall pass away,
And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
When men, who here refuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mountains call,
God’s love so sure, shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

Refrain

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

Refrain
Frederick Lehman

A Sacrifice of Thanksgiving

The Mighty One, God the Lord,
speaks and summons the earth
from the rising of the sun to its setting.
Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty,
God shines forth.
Our God comes; he does not keep silence;
before him is a devouring fire,
around him a mighty tempest.
He calls to the heavens above
and to the earth, that he may judge his people:
“Gather to me my faithful ones,
who made a covenant with me by sacrifice!”
The heavens declare his righteousness,
for God himself is judge! Selah

“Hear, O my people, and I will speak;
O Israel, I will testify against you.
I am God, your God.
Not for your sacrifices do I rebuke you;
your burnt offerings are continually before me.
I will not accept a bull from your house
or goats from your folds.
For every beast of the forest is mine,
the cattle on a thousand hills.
I know all the birds of the hills,
and all that moves in the field is mine.
“If I were hungry, I would not tell you,
for the world and its fullness are mine.
Do I eat the flesh of bulls
or drink the blood of goats?

Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving,
and perform your vows to the Most High,
and call upon me in the day of trouble;
I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.”
Psalm 50:1-15

Who I Am

A thought exploration of the night...in that so few truly know me for who I am fully. I often times hold back from sharing myself completely with people because the depths of me are not easily plunged into or understood. But I wonder how many people actually know me for who I am. I wonder if they did, would they understand?

Broken for the Gospel

Yesterday I was remembering a conversation I had with my best friend Elise here a couple weeks back. She is spending all of next year in East Asia doing missionary work to the universities there. Her heart was heavy that day as she was wrestling with the impending reality of what is to begin in just a few short months. She was saying that she doesn’t fear her safety there for a myriad of reasons, but the issue that weighed so heavily on her heart is particularly the safety of the Nationals there. With Asia being largely closed to Christianity and the Gospel, things are very dangerous for believers from and living in that country. The fact that her and her team are largely “privileged Americans” generally allows them the freedom to leave if safety concerns escalate and arise. But the Nationals do not have that same freedom. She was explaining how she knows the Gospel is worth sharing and that it is a Gospel for the world, but she was having a hard time justifying the reality that in sharing a message that brings life, it could be also bringing them to bodily death. As I listened to her and her heart, something changed radically inside me. Something that had been solid for so long broke.
I have been thinking about this over the past couple of weeks, and the things I have been learning and have read only bring this up more. I think my eyes are opening as I am seeing things truly for the first time. I have been breaking at how I have treated the message of hope that has changed my life, because I have allowed it to do just that: a message that has changed only my life. I think for so long I have made the Gospel one to serve myself and my life, rather than being something that truly breaks me of all my selfishness and feelings of entitlement. There are people in this world that have never heard the name of Jesus. The reality of persecution is so much more prevalent in the world than we think, because we live in this “privileged, sheltered” America. Mark Labberton said it well in his book The Dangerous Act of Worship when he states this:
“American Christian culture often communicates to people around the world, ‘You should just seek God’s promised land, like we have, and then you can have what we have!’ This is a broad miscalculation of where humanity dwells, and it daily damages the mission of Jesus Christ.”

Oh how grossly we do this! How much we make God a self-serving God that fits into our own culture and agendas. We miss the point entirely. We miss it entirely…how dare we belittle God in this way. The Gospel we claim to live for and serve is not a message for those who are “entitled,” like the middle-class americans we so easily relate to. It is a Gospel for all of creation, of every creature, from every nation and tongue. It is not ours.

There are many stories and testimonies of how Jesus has changed the lives of people in these countries we hear about only if we choose to do so. It amazes me that in a country with information at our fingertips, we so often choose to look at our social sites, the latest funny movie at YouTube, shopping sites to see what we can buy next, when instead we live in a time where we can hear so easily about the needs of those in other countries. I receive emails from missionaries in Tibet on a regular basis. I am so thankful for those because it takes me out of this privileged America I live in and forces me to see the reality that really does exist. We have the opportunity to access such information and act upon it. Why don’t we?

And it’s even not just the other places and people outside of America. We neglect those here.
Over Spring Break, I was riding in the car with my parents down to downtown Phoenix. The route we were on passed probably a very true definition of the urban city and its people, and it was crying out for help. I remember being so saddened as I saw a church in the midst of this setting. It had a sign on the outside saying something such as “bringing the light of Jesus to Phoenix.” The church also had a probably 8’ tall metal fence all around it with very pointy tops, that was locked and discouraged people to come in. My mom said they probably had to learn the hard way, unfortunately, and protect themselves. That’s one way of seeing it, and is the way we often choose to see things. But what about that sign? What about what they were proclaiming to do? The fence negated the meaning as they sought to protect themselves and their building instead of leaving it open. If it gets vandalized, does it really matter? Was the building ever really theirs? I wonder what such an opportunity would do, because they would probably have a good chance to meet with the perpetrators. Instead of seeking justice for the damage done to “their” building, why not show the mercy and grace that Jesus has given us? Why not let the words on that sign become true actions and words? Why do we fear what mortal men do to us? Why do we still run and fear to administer justice and mercy? Why do we still choose not to be broken, not to see things in the true light, not to realize that nothing is our own? Why are we still not compelled to “do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God? (Micah 6:8).

I think it comes to our fear of being broken and losing all control. We are not moved because we choose not to be moved. I write this because this is a lesson I have been struggling to learn on my own, and it’s one I am seeing the dire need of change in. That conversation mentioned earlier shifted something radically inside of me. But I have the choice to allow that to permeate my being and change who I am and how I treat the Gospel. We all do. I’m finally beginning to understand that it is far greater to be broken and at a loss of what to do because it is then God may have His way in us. It is then that we start seeing and understanding correctly and acting accordingly. The price of being changed often seems hefty to pay, but I am understanding now there is a heftier price paid if we don’t. That price does not come at our own expense but at the expense of all the others outside of ourselves. Dare we be that selfish? I pray not.

Not Meant to be Whole on Our Own

Cannot fight to be in control
Cannot fight to keep things whole
It’s surely a losing battle
If I continue down this road
Because we are not meant to be
Whole on our own
Can’t keep on edging the tide
Can’t keep on holding to the ride
It’s surely a losing battle
If I continue to fight
Because we are not meant to be
The source of our own light
Easy to keep it in my hands
Easy to think I understand
It’s surely a contradiction
If think this still I stand
Because in reality it is easier to be
Fully surrendered into His hands
Because this is not my fight
Because this is not my ride
The truth always stands forth
When I open and see through my eyes
Because He has captured me and allowed me to see
The beauty of wholly surrendering my life
So I give You my heart
I give You my soul
I live for You alone
Every breath that I take
Every moment I’m awake
Lord have Your way in me.

Italics lyrics from Hillsong, regular original lyrics from me

Likewise

It’s funny. I was reading John’s blog entry from today and it puzzled me a bit at first. I wasn’t sure why he was speaking of this new journey, as I haven’t really been aware of a new one starting with him, but rather one that has continued on in depth. But now as I have been journaling, I now understand why he wrote it. And by that, I don’t mean that I understand what his new journey is completely, but I do mean that I understand the principle of a new journey, as I realize that is what God is bringing me into as well.

I write this at the end of a day in which my flesh has surely dictated me. There has been such a lack of discipline and of patience, and I’m sure there are many other aspects of the Spirit that should be present in me as I live in Him. It has been funny (not in a “ha ha” way) to me to look back on this day and see this lack of contentment and frustration with everything in general, as it has not been something I’ve been struggling with lately. Rather, it’s been the latter that God has been teaching me and giving me so much grace in, as I am learning to be content in the present moment and move as the Spirit leads accordingly. But I’m realizing why this has been so throughout today…

One is that things are changing greatly in many different ways. This includes the time of life I am in, different relationships I have, the way I handle things, the way I view and treat God, and how I experience Him and life, amongst many other things. A week or two ago I was realizing how I generally thrive on change and even look for it to some degree. It is an interesting change in itself in me. I have been learning to take change head on and not let it faze me, which is contrary to how I used to be. But I think the other is very much tied with that, and it is that I am seeing and realizing the lessons that are coming about as a result of this change, and realizing that my flesh very much doesn’t want to learn them. The spiritual mind of myself knows the importance and blessing of those lessons, as it is my prayer that God “have His way through me.” Yet my flesh contradicts that very prayer greatly.

I am to learn the aspect of longsuffering, in waiting and in love. I am to learn what it looks like to pour into people who don’t pour anything back and do it because the love in my heart from Jesus compels me to do so. I am to learn what it means to relate to the people around me that I have the most difficulty in doing so. I am to learn what it means to “be still in the midst of moving.” I am to learn what it means to truly die to self in every single way. I am to learn these things and so many more that I don’t know of right now. My flesh sees these and sees a steep learning curve it’d rather not go on. But my heart and my mind know that this is the better way in which I must embark.

Because I think the thing I am missing overall is that there is still a level of deeper surrender that I haven’t reached. I still haven’t gotten completely out of the way in order to let God have His way completely and thoroughly through me. And for what God has in store, I must learn this lesson…I sense it is of an importance so dire it can’t be put into words. I need to get to the point that when God appears to me, I can look Him directly in the face, rather than being of the nature as the Israelites were to Moses, asking him to intercede for them because they thought they would surely die otherwise.

And I understand this “new journey,” as God is leading me on one as well. May my flesh surely die and the Lord win, because the cry of my heart is that He be glorified in me and that I may learn what He has accordingly, not that I would governed by my flesh. That will continue to remain my prayer. These things that I know or understand not right now I know God will bring into light at the proper time. But seek Him I must. And seek Him I will.

Flowers Along the Way

Heart unsettled
Uncertainty resides
Whisper in the midst
New things into light
Unknown territory ahead
Ground unsteady beneath
Destination a ways away
But still I never fall
For the Spoken Word remains
Be still in the moving
Sands ever shifting
Path ever changing
Only One keeps me going
For the Living God remains
Climbing still
Trusting ever more
Heart will never break
And there will be flowers along the way

The Third in the Grand Scheme of Things

There have been times as of late I have wanted to sit down and write about what God is doing in my life and in the grand scheme of things, but it hasn’t happened yet. I feel a scribe in many ways, and with that comes the inclination to want to write and explain everything in its fullness, at least to the understanding that God gives me. In that, I think I have been waiting for this story to come into a package of sorts that I can write about from start to present. But I can’t! Even if I were to have hours or days to write, the story keeps on being written upon itself. And so I come tonight knowing that this is not the full package or story. I can’t write all the details of what has happened in this journey, at least not in this time. But there are steps along the way that God continues to bring, and those I am compelled to share.

It was raining all day yesterday. After our weekly Crusade meeting, I decided to walk back to John’s house alone in the rain to simply commune with God. I am rarely spontaneous anymore, and in that, I believe I often miss what God could give me in those moments. It was a beautiful rain. I went inside and picked up my stuff and proceeded back to the front porch where I awaited my ride home. It didn’t come for over half an hour. God was so good to grant that time that I may be with Him in His presence, being still and allowing Him to do and speak as He willed.

I started praying, and I was tired. I know the weaknesses of my flesh and its need for sleep, and so often in those times I elect to stop thinking or doing, mostly out of self-preservation I have been realizing. But as I sat there last night, I remembered that it is in those times that I am fully in the raw. My flesh is weak, my guard is down, and the thoughts I so often allow to govern the day cease. It is a position of vulnerability that allows a meeting with the true God if I allow Him to do so. And that was one of my early prayers last night. He surely answered…
I was back and forth on going to Crusade last night. My ears have been ringing terribly the last couple of days, leaving me not hearing much actual noise and pretty exhausted. I didn’t think I would understand much or be able to focus well. Yet as I discussed it with John, he encouraged me to go. I am so thankful for the Spirit’s leading through him, as he heeds it and understands it well. So I went. It was Elise T’s birthday and it was good to be with her. As for the message though? I didn’t get much out of it, not because there wasn't much there, but because I couldn't focus. Tim Fox, one of our interns, spoke last night. He spoke on the end of Mark 10 (vs 35-52), which is two different accounts; one being James and John arguing about who got to sit on the right and left sides of Jesus, and coming to the point where Jesus humbles them through many statements, one being “the Son of man did not come to be served but to serve, and be a ransom to many.” The next part was the healing of Bartimaeus, a blind man. I was a bit puzzled as to why Tim continued onto this part, as the two accounts didn’t exactly flow together in my opinion. But God opened my eyes to that scripture, and I pondered it for the rest of the time…

On John’s porch I asked God the significance of that passage being spoken that night. The answer I received is that it is the next of the main passages He has given me in this journey of knowing, asking, and receiving not just the gift of healing of my ears, but an intimate one in learning to be fully surrendered to Him and knowing Him like no other. And as I pondered that passage, I found myself in utter amazement, awe, and praise at what God had just given me. This is the third main passage in the last two years, each directly speaking and leading me in this journey of faith I continue to walk…

The first was John 9, given to me just over 2 years ago to this day. This account of a boy born blind brought me into the full realization that it was God’s will to heal me. For about 2 months up until when that passage was given to me, I was wrestling with the path God was leading me on. It had mainly to do with my perception of how God has used my hearing loss throughout my entire life. He has truly made His strength perfect in my weakness, and through that, brought glory to Himself. I wrestled with the question if my hearing loss were to be taken away, wouldn’t God be taking away the glory from Himself, or contradicting it? The opening three verses of John 9 spoke nearer to my heart that night than I remembered words ever speaking before, as I found my answer. Jesus and his disciples were walking along the road when they came across the boy. The disciples asked Him, “why was this boy born blind? Was it a result of sin in his life or his parents?” Jesus answered them, “it was not a result of either; rather, it is so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” I then knew that it truly was God’s will to heal me and the answer to that question was that there has been a purpose for both: the hearing loss has been for His glory, and the taking away of it is also. Both have been for the purpose of God’s work being displayed in my life.

The next was Mark 7:31-37, the account of a deaf and mute man. This was given to me last October. I largely identified with the boy born blind for a long time, but the transition was made with this passage. The people within the region of Decapolis brought to Jesus a man who was deaf and spoke with difficulty. They asked Jesus to lay hands on him. Jesus took him away from the crowd and put His hands on his face, a truly intimate encounter. He put His hands in the man’s ears and touched his tongue, and with a sigh looking up to Heaven, he cried Ephphatha, which means ‘be opened.’ The man then both heard and spoke clearly, and they went back into the crowd. I was taken aback by this passage because I had never found an account of a healing of a deaf person in the bible, and not just one deaf, but one with a speech impediment as well. He fits my disabilities to the “t.” In a time in which God had begun the healing process of starting to open up my ears, He brought me this passage to remember that it is an intimate encounter with Him. I was to allow Him to take me away from the crowd, and I was to look into His face, truly believe, and receive. It was not a moment in which anyone else was to be involved, only me and Him. There is such a powerful command in Ephphatha, and it urged me to be praying that myself. In January, I took out my last hearing aid, and God has been doing a tremendous process in healing my ears. Yet more so, He has been doing a tremendous process in me truly looking in His eyes, trusting Him, and receiving whatever it is He has for me. It has been a journey of love, obedience, silence, and intimacy, and still continues to be.

And then last night was Mark 10, Bartimaeus being blind and crying out to Jesus. 46 Then they came to Jericho. And as He was leaving Jericho with His disciples and a large crowd, a blind beggar named Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, was sitting by the road. 47 When he heard that it was Jesus the Nazarene, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!" 48 Many were sternly telling him to be quiet, but he kept crying out all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!" 49 And Jesus stopped and said, "Call him here." So they called the blind man, saying to him, "Take courage, stand up! He is calling for you." 50 Throwing aside his cloak, he jumped up and came to Jesus. 51 And answering him, Jesus said, "What do you want Me to do for you?" And the blind man said to Him, "Rabboni, I want to regain my sight!" 52 And Jesus said to him, "Go; your faith has made you well." Immediately he regained his sight and began following Him on the road.”

Bartimaeus knew Jesus. Let me say it again, Bartimaeus knew Jesus. He knew Jesus was there, and began to cry out to Him. Even in the midst of the people around him dissuading him from doing so, he continued to cry out until Jesus called him. According to his faith, Jesus made him well. The reason why I say Bartimaeus knew Jesus is because there was no hesitation to cry out to Him because he understood what Jesus could give. He was fully aware of His power to heal him, and persisted until Jesus did such a thing.

How much it speaks to my heart now. If I had to take away just one thing from this entire journey I have been on thus far, I would not take away the fact that I have heard music in ways I never have before, or people’s voices without aid, or really anything to do with my healing in that aspect. Rather, I would say I have come to know my Lord. I am no longer fighting His piercing gaze into my eyes asking me to look into His. There’s a change He’s been doing in my heart in delighting to do His will, to serve and obey no matter the cost. That’s what I would take away: I know Jesus.

And just like Bartimaeus, I will continue to cry out to my Lord. There are those that dissuade me because they probably think I am either making a fool of myself or am just dreaming, or it’s causing them to be uncomfortable. But no matter. I know my Lord. I know what He has said and what He continues to bring about. And I will cry out to Him all the day long until he calls me and restores my hearing in its fullness. It is not an action understood in our culture or even among believers who walk with Him. But I know my Lord. And I know He has given me the gift of a radical and undying faith. And I know it’s seldom understood, but there have to be some in this day and age that are willing to be wholly obedient and surrendered to His will for this generation and age, and I humbly walk into that. There is nothing more that I desire than for God to make Himself known to the people of this world, to those who are perishing and dying, or even to those who have fallen asleep or are still sleeping. I cry that they may they know the name of God as I AM WHO I AM, his name forever, and his memorial name to all generations (Exodus 3:14-15). And with that, so may it be with me. May He do with me as He will, to make Himself known to a world sleeping, dying, and perishing.