Today, my parents and little brother filled up a U-Haul and said goodbye to our Kansas City home for good.
I admit that I'm a bit of a wreck about it.
This house has been ours for 15 years. Most of my memories are connected to it, and Liberty by extension.
I do recognize that moving is a very normal life occurrence, as I've had to shuffle my stuff around from place to place in Kirksville for the past three years at school, and I'm about to make the most significant move of my life to Louisville, KY in a few months (What? Crazy.)
But here's the thing: my family's home was not ordinary.
Fifteen years is a lot of life in one place, particularly when you have parents like mine. I don't know many people quite as warm or welcoming as they are. I distinctly remember that even when I was much younger, some of my favorite times at home were nights spent eating a good meal and sitting and talking in the living room with company.
When I got a little older, (and went through a "my parents can't possibly be cool" phase), the Lord often humbled me with the realization that my friends loved spending time in our home because they enjoyed my parents so much. We had so many sweet nights of conversation in that living room with the extra-soft shag carpet (so no one minded plopping down on the floor). I had several friends who met individually with one of my parents to talk or pray, and a couple friends who went through pre-marital counseling with my mom and dad too.
I've learned a lot about loving people from my parents and in that home.
And because of this, I recognize in myself a longing for things to remain as they were, for that home to belong to my parents for a long time.
"These things-- the beauty, the memory of our own past-- are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited." -C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
That home was just a place, and God has called my family to another home where he will use them to point more people to himself.
And ultimately, the "thing itself" that Lewis alludes to is our permanent, eternal home with Christ in glory. This is what we ought to long for. Praying that, despite the fact that I will miss my Kansas City home (and soon, my Kirksville home) like crazy, that the Lord would teach me to long for the thing itself.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
heaviness and hope.
Lately, I've been experiencing heartache in various forms. I've thought a lot about people I care about who don't know the Lord. I've prayed for them impatiently and with much frustration. I've thought about the things I believe, how they stand in stark contrast to the wisdom of the world. I've watched as people on both ends of the spectrum have flung mean and hateful words at each other, and nothing is ever resolved (nor is understanding ever achieved). I've seen (and personally experienced) the effects of sin on an individual as well as those they have sinned against.
And these things have brought with them a heaviness that I am unequipped to deal with. I get sad and introspective, and I try to pray, but I struggle to believe that anything can ever be fixed; that the Lord can bring redemption to these things.
The message that I heard Easter Sunday brought refreshing to my weary heart.
We studied John chapter 20, verses 19-31. Jesus had recently been crucified, and the disciples were fearful and confused. They were in hiding when they encountered the resurrected Christ for the first time. Those that were present were comforted by Christ's presence, but Thomas, who had not been there, doubted. Then Jesus returns, showing Thomas the marks on his wrists and his side, and Thomas believes.
In this passage, the first words Jesus speaks to the disciples are "Peace be with you." In this I am reminded that no one is able to initiate lasting peace with God-- this is what Jesus did for us when he suffered God's wrath on our behalf. The only true peace we will ever know is in loving relationship with Jesus Christ. And he offers it, freely.
Next, we see that Jesus is patient, he forebears with us though we have deserted and disobeyed him. The disciples had utterly abandoned Christ at the time of his arrest. After his death, they hid themselves away. But Jesus is forgiving and faithful, even when we are faithless (2 Timothy 2:13). When Thomas expresses his doubts to the other disciples, Jesus returns to gently and lovingly show him the truth in the midst of his doubt.
In this way, the resurrection is also personal. Thomas' response to his encounter with Christ is "My Lord and my God!" In Jesus' death and resurrection, he has made it possible for us to know him. Not as a cold and distant being, but a holy, powerful, and personal Savior.
Lastly, the resurrection comes in power. Jesus' return to life is the seal on God's promise to make all things new (Revelation 21).
Jesus brings us peace with God, he is patient with us in our doubts, sins, and failures, he knows and loves us personally, and he comes in power (over sin, death, our circumstances). He alone can draw hardened sinners (like I was) to himself. These promises are teaching me to trust the Lord more in my heartache. The truths of what Christ has done, that he LIVES, and that he is stronger than my fear, bring with them great HOPE. I'm praising God for that today.
In this passage, the first words Jesus speaks to the disciples are "Peace be with you." In this I am reminded that no one is able to initiate lasting peace with God-- this is what Jesus did for us when he suffered God's wrath on our behalf. The only true peace we will ever know is in loving relationship with Jesus Christ. And he offers it, freely.
Next, we see that Jesus is patient, he forebears with us though we have deserted and disobeyed him. The disciples had utterly abandoned Christ at the time of his arrest. After his death, they hid themselves away. But Jesus is forgiving and faithful, even when we are faithless (2 Timothy 2:13). When Thomas expresses his doubts to the other disciples, Jesus returns to gently and lovingly show him the truth in the midst of his doubt.
In this way, the resurrection is also personal. Thomas' response to his encounter with Christ is "My Lord and my God!" In Jesus' death and resurrection, he has made it possible for us to know him. Not as a cold and distant being, but a holy, powerful, and personal Savior.
Lastly, the resurrection comes in power. Jesus' return to life is the seal on God's promise to make all things new (Revelation 21).
Jesus brings us peace with God, he is patient with us in our doubts, sins, and failures, he knows and loves us personally, and he comes in power (over sin, death, our circumstances). He alone can draw hardened sinners (like I was) to himself. These promises are teaching me to trust the Lord more in my heartache. The truths of what Christ has done, that he LIVES, and that he is stronger than my fear, bring with them great HOPE. I'm praising God for that today.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
things needful.
"I need spiritual comforts that are gentle, mild, refreshing,
that will melt me into conscious lowliness before thee,
that will make me feel and rest in thee as my All."
-puritan prayer, The Valley of Vision
It's been a long time since my last post. And I don't like it, because I've found that writing is one of the most helpful ways I can identify the things that have been going on in my mind and heart. So I'm back, finally, with plenty of thoughts :) One of those thoughts, recently, comes from Mark 10. My roommates and I have been studying Mark for quite a while now, and I've been so in awe of Jesus week after week.
I'd read these passages before, but recognized something new in this reading. In verses 13-16, children are brought to Jesus, but the crowd surrounding him (including the disciples) are shooing children away, seeing them as an annoyance. When Jesus sees this, he is indignant, telling them to let the children come to him and recognizing these little ones' faith as something special.
In verses 46-52 we see a blind man cry out to Jesus for healing. Once again, the crowd sees this man as an impertinence. Normally, he would have been ignored; looked over. However, Christ sees the man and brings him in. He knows what the man needs, but gives him the opportunity to ask in faith. Then he responds, "Go your way, your faith has made you well" (52). The man immediately joins Jesus as one of his followers.
Jesus brings these marginalized people in, validates their worth, brings them healing, shows them kindness, and recognizes their faith. He does it because he loves them.
But what was so striking to me this time was that I realized Jesus' secondary intent-- he also loves those who were following him already and wants them to see that he desires genuine faith and a true awareness of how much they need him. It's funny how many times in this study I've come across instances of unbelief in the disciples. They are almost constantly being surprised by what Jesus says and what he is capable of doing. (It's so funny because if they believe that he is the Son of God, nothing should surprise them. Don't they know he's sovereign and all-powerful and holy, etc. etc...?)
And I find it really comical until I recognize that I am just like them.
I am frequently thinking small thoughts of my Savior and placing pressure on myself to be independent and figure things out on my own. I was hit hard with the reality that as of late it has been my tendency to not really believe that I need Him.
I'm convicted that this needs to change. My heart needs to dwell in constant dependence on the Lord. And it's okay for me to be meek and lowly, because that's exactly what I am. Praying that I will feel and know my need of Christ more.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
gifts and glory.
I am a total Christmas fanatic. Of course, I believe very strongly in the importance of saving my celebration until after Thanksgiving has come, but as soon as it passes, I am all in. I attempt to create as much Christmas whimsy in my life as possible, with snowflakes hanging from my ceiling, trips to see twinkling lights all over town, cheerful Christmas tunes on repeat, and as many Christmas cookie parties as I can handle.
I love taking a break from classes, spending time with my family, and seeing old friends. I love gift giving and receiving. I love Christmas eve candlelit services. I love good food and good naps on Christmas day. I love it all.
But I've been reminded through faithful preaching of the Word this season that there's something a little somber and deeply significant about this time, too. The truth I've been glossing over a bit: that Christmas means first remembering that you and I have a deep-seated need for Christ. That he came because God knew we'd be eternally hopeless and helpless without him and loved us enough to make a way to himself. That ultimately, this Savior who came into the world also died for the sins of the world. My sin and yours.
God is good to have given us the gift of his Son. And I ought to let my desperate need for Christ shake me a little bit more. Humility and true worship ought to arise from the recognition that without Jesus, I'd be lost.
These truths are simple, and I think that's why it's easy for us to forget, misplace, or ignore. But there is nothing more worthy of celebration, no one more worthy of our love, obedience and attention, no gift more glorious or life-giving.
I am prone to distraction, celebrating lesser goods and gifts, but Christ is on my mind tonight. My great need for him, his sufficiency to live blamelessly and cover my sin with his death, the riches of his love, the depths of his grace.
"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth... For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace."
(John 1:14,16)
I love taking a break from classes, spending time with my family, and seeing old friends. I love gift giving and receiving. I love Christmas eve candlelit services. I love good food and good naps on Christmas day. I love it all.
But I've been reminded through faithful preaching of the Word this season that there's something a little somber and deeply significant about this time, too. The truth I've been glossing over a bit: that Christmas means first remembering that you and I have a deep-seated need for Christ. That he came because God knew we'd be eternally hopeless and helpless without him and loved us enough to make a way to himself. That ultimately, this Savior who came into the world also died for the sins of the world. My sin and yours.
God is good to have given us the gift of his Son. And I ought to let my desperate need for Christ shake me a little bit more. Humility and true worship ought to arise from the recognition that without Jesus, I'd be lost.
These truths are simple, and I think that's why it's easy for us to forget, misplace, or ignore. But there is nothing more worthy of celebration, no one more worthy of our love, obedience and attention, no gift more glorious or life-giving.
I am prone to distraction, celebrating lesser goods and gifts, but Christ is on my mind tonight. My great need for him, his sufficiency to live blamelessly and cover my sin with his death, the riches of his love, the depths of his grace.
"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth... For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace."
(John 1:14,16)
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
What Wondrous Love Is This?
Recently, during a drive between Kirksville and Columbia after spending a day with my family, I found myself alone on the road for the first time in quite a while. The sky was dark and the car was quiet. I stuck in a c.d., one of many random car mixes in my collection. "What Wondrous Love Is This?" started to play, and I found myself particularly drawn to the song.
It's been a favorite of mine and Mark's ever since he introduced it to me two summers ago. The lyrics are rich and powerful and I let them wash over me with new meaning that night.
What wondrous love is this, O my soul! What wondrous love is this.
What wondrous love is this, O my soul! What wondrous love is this.
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul,
To bear the dreadful curse.
When I was sinking down, sinking down, when I was sinking down.
When I was sinking down, sinking down, when I was sinking down.
When I was sinking down beneath God's righteous frown,
Christ laid aside his crown for my soul
Christ laid aside his crown for my soul.
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, to God and to the Lamb.
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, to God and to the Lamb.
To God and to the Lamb who is the great I am,
While millions join the theme, I will sing
While millions join the theme.
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on, and when from death I'm free.
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on, and when from death I'm free.
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing and grateful be,
While millions join the theme, I will sing,
While millions join the theme.
What wondrous love is this, O my soul! What wondrous love is this.
What wondrous love is this, O my soul! What wondrous love is this.
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul,
To bear the dreadful curse.
When I was sinking down, sinking down, when I was sinking down.
When I was sinking down, sinking down, when I was sinking down.
When I was sinking down beneath God's righteous frown,
Christ laid aside his crown for my soul
Christ laid aside his crown for my soul.
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, to God and to the Lamb.
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing, to God and to the Lamb.
To God and to the Lamb who is the great I am,
While millions join the theme, I will sing
While millions join the theme.
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on, and when from death I'm free.
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on, and when from death I'm free.
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing and grateful be,
While millions join the theme, I will sing,
While millions join the theme.
I was reminded then just how wonderful and astounding God's love for us is. The fact that He was not content to leave us in the sin and death we deserve, but instead was compelled by love to bear our curse and take our shame is difficult for me to comprehend. He restored us to himself simply because he loves us.
For the past year and a half, I have been learning quite a bit about love. The time I've spent dating (and more recently, engaged) to Mark has taught me so much about what it means to humble myself and set aside my own good or gain for the good of another. Though I have a very long way to go, I continue to grow in an understanding of what it means to model a relationship that is moving toward marriage after Christ's love for the church.
John Piper says that "the wonder of marriage is woven into the wonder of the gospel of the cross of Christ." This relationship between a man and a woman is a shadow of Christ's covenant-keeping love for the church, his bride. He is committed to faithfulness and to the continual giving of grace to her. He laid down his life for her.
It is incredible and painful and beautiful to be beginning this process with Mark. We are both often immature or prideful or selfish. Growing and stretching is hard. But it is good to be reminded that the covenant-keeping love of Christ is enough; that as we continue to be sanctified and learn to better love one another, it is because He loved us first.
"Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God... Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands. Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her."
-Ephesians 5:1-2, 22-25
For the past year and a half, I have been learning quite a bit about love. The time I've spent dating (and more recently, engaged) to Mark has taught me so much about what it means to humble myself and set aside my own good or gain for the good of another. Though I have a very long way to go, I continue to grow in an understanding of what it means to model a relationship that is moving toward marriage after Christ's love for the church.
John Piper says that "the wonder of marriage is woven into the wonder of the gospel of the cross of Christ." This relationship between a man and a woman is a shadow of Christ's covenant-keeping love for the church, his bride. He is committed to faithfulness and to the continual giving of grace to her. He laid down his life for her.
It is incredible and painful and beautiful to be beginning this process with Mark. We are both often immature or prideful or selfish. Growing and stretching is hard. But it is good to be reminded that the covenant-keeping love of Christ is enough; that as we continue to be sanctified and learn to better love one another, it is because He loved us first.
"Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God... Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands. Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her."
-Ephesians 5:1-2, 22-25
Monday, September 24, 2012
uncomfortable grace.
Recently the future has been on my mind quite a bit. At this point there are several things up in the air: job, school, etc. And every time my mind goes there, I've allowed it to become a really overwhelming, fear-inducing thing. I have not been offering it up to the Lord or really dealing with it in any kind of healthy way, just churning and worrying and letting that spiral out of control.
This weekend I heard a sermon preached on Mark 6:45-52. (http://www.redeemerkansascity.org/sermons/the-difference-between-amazement-and-faith/)
Essentially, Jesus has told the disciples to get in a boat and head toward Bethsaida while he stays behind to pray. The disciples start making their way across the water and struggle against the wind, making little headway.
The disciples are in this mess because of their obedience to Christ. He takes them where they haven't intended to go in order to produce in them what they cannot achieve on their own-- grace. And in their case this isn't the grace of relief, but the uncomfortable grace of refinement.
As the passage continues, we see the incredible truth that Christ is for them. He meets them on the water and is present with them in their difficulty. And yet, even in the midst of his presence, the disciples are utterly astounded-- they can't believe that Jesus had come to them walking on water; can't believe that he had the power to make the wind cease. Their thoughts of Him were completely and utterly too small. They still didn't understand fully who he was or what that meant. Instead their hearts were hardened and they missed an opportunity to experience his refining grace.
All believers in Jesus Christ have the incredible and uncomfortable grace of God that takes us where we didn't intend to go, walks with us in the midst of difficulty, and refines and produces sanctification in us. I'm learning that I have become satisfied with the work He has done in me so far; that I am content to stay where I am because it's comfortable here. But the Lord refuses to let me go without confronting these areas of my life where he is taking me somewhere new and scary for my good in order that I might trust Him more. In order that I might cast aside small thoughts of Him. That I might see that His refining work in me brings Him much glory, and I would give Him space to do so.
He is worthy of our trust, our hope, our worship, our very lives.
This weekend I heard a sermon preached on Mark 6:45-52. (http://www.redeemerkansascity.org/sermons/the-difference-between-amazement-and-faith/)
Essentially, Jesus has told the disciples to get in a boat and head toward Bethsaida while he stays behind to pray. The disciples start making their way across the water and struggle against the wind, making little headway.
The disciples are in this mess because of their obedience to Christ. He takes them where they haven't intended to go in order to produce in them what they cannot achieve on their own-- grace. And in their case this isn't the grace of relief, but the uncomfortable grace of refinement.
As the passage continues, we see the incredible truth that Christ is for them. He meets them on the water and is present with them in their difficulty. And yet, even in the midst of his presence, the disciples are utterly astounded-- they can't believe that Jesus had come to them walking on water; can't believe that he had the power to make the wind cease. Their thoughts of Him were completely and utterly too small. They still didn't understand fully who he was or what that meant. Instead their hearts were hardened and they missed an opportunity to experience his refining grace.
All believers in Jesus Christ have the incredible and uncomfortable grace of God that takes us where we didn't intend to go, walks with us in the midst of difficulty, and refines and produces sanctification in us. I'm learning that I have become satisfied with the work He has done in me so far; that I am content to stay where I am because it's comfortable here. But the Lord refuses to let me go without confronting these areas of my life where he is taking me somewhere new and scary for my good in order that I might trust Him more. In order that I might cast aside small thoughts of Him. That I might see that His refining work in me brings Him much glory, and I would give Him space to do so.
He is worthy of our trust, our hope, our worship, our very lives.
Monday, September 17, 2012
grace and worship.
My roommates and I started reading through the book of Mark this semester. This week was chapter 2, and I found myself really encouraged by what I found there.
First, (vs. 18-22) the Pharisees are bothered by the fact that Jesus and his disciples do not fast. To their question Jesus is quick to reply that the disciples are with the bridegroom now, experiencing and rejoicing in the presence of God as they spend time with Jesus, and therefore have no need for fasting until he is gone.
Next, (vs. 23-28) the disciples are seen plucking heads of grain in the grain fields on the Sabbath. Again, the Pharisees cannot understand why it would be okay for these men to violate the Sabbath merely because they are hungry. And again, Jesus points them to the truth-- "the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath."
In each of these instances I see really beautiful truths. The Pharisees have come to trust in the Law, using it as the lens by which they see everything. However, in doing so they have completely lost sight of the purpose of both fasting and the Sabbath. According to Christ, fasting is for seeking the presence of God; for focusing one's full heart and attention on Him. But they have turned it into a badge of honor, automatically judging those who don't participate. And not only that, but they are missing out on the personal and tangible presence of Jesus Christ right in front of them. Similarly, the Sabbath is meant to be God's gift to man; a time of spiritual and physical refreshment. Therefore, it ought not confine every action a man takes on that day, but rather to be blessed by quiet, restful time with the Lord.
Ultimately, Christ intends to show these religious people that he is Lord over all, even the Law. And with him comes something completely new, something that cannot be combined with the old (vs. 21-22). We cannot receive full atonement in the death of Christ and still believe that there is some level of righteousness we can achieve by our own efforts. Therefore we see Jesus pointing to the grace that exists in him in each situation, setting us free to worship him with transformed hearts swelling with gratitude for what he has done.
When we get caught up in the "rules and duties", we lose out on the entire heart behind what God asks of us. The truth is, he has made us for worship and delight in Him. The things he calls us to are for our greatest good and His own glory. And if we know Him, sin has no power over us. So why do we allow just about anything (even "religious" things) to get in the way of humbly and passionately seeking the Lord in His Word and in prayer?
My prayer is that I would continue to be transformed by God in such a way that my heart would long for more of Him and the result would be a life of worship.
First, (vs. 18-22) the Pharisees are bothered by the fact that Jesus and his disciples do not fast. To their question Jesus is quick to reply that the disciples are with the bridegroom now, experiencing and rejoicing in the presence of God as they spend time with Jesus, and therefore have no need for fasting until he is gone.
Next, (vs. 23-28) the disciples are seen plucking heads of grain in the grain fields on the Sabbath. Again, the Pharisees cannot understand why it would be okay for these men to violate the Sabbath merely because they are hungry. And again, Jesus points them to the truth-- "the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath."
In each of these instances I see really beautiful truths. The Pharisees have come to trust in the Law, using it as the lens by which they see everything. However, in doing so they have completely lost sight of the purpose of both fasting and the Sabbath. According to Christ, fasting is for seeking the presence of God; for focusing one's full heart and attention on Him. But they have turned it into a badge of honor, automatically judging those who don't participate. And not only that, but they are missing out on the personal and tangible presence of Jesus Christ right in front of them. Similarly, the Sabbath is meant to be God's gift to man; a time of spiritual and physical refreshment. Therefore, it ought not confine every action a man takes on that day, but rather to be blessed by quiet, restful time with the Lord.
Ultimately, Christ intends to show these religious people that he is Lord over all, even the Law. And with him comes something completely new, something that cannot be combined with the old (vs. 21-22). We cannot receive full atonement in the death of Christ and still believe that there is some level of righteousness we can achieve by our own efforts. Therefore we see Jesus pointing to the grace that exists in him in each situation, setting us free to worship him with transformed hearts swelling with gratitude for what he has done.
When we get caught up in the "rules and duties", we lose out on the entire heart behind what God asks of us. The truth is, he has made us for worship and delight in Him. The things he calls us to are for our greatest good and His own glory. And if we know Him, sin has no power over us. So why do we allow just about anything (even "religious" things) to get in the way of humbly and passionately seeking the Lord in His Word and in prayer?
My prayer is that I would continue to be transformed by God in such a way that my heart would long for more of Him and the result would be a life of worship.
