Things here aren't easy but the Lord is providing... I can't even explain how much. Financially, yes. Spiritually, yes. I'm not going to be the kind that fakes it and has religious lines for everything. So in my honesty I'll admit that my faith is maybe the size of a mustard seed... "Let it be done unto you according to your faith..." I've noticed that His economics are different than mine. Cool by me, man.
Yesterday I was finishing up my assigned reading in 2 Samuel of the story of David. His son Absalom attempted to dethrone him but David still said "Deal gently with [him]." At one point, Absalom's counselors, Ahithophel and Hushai, each gave him different advice. Ahithophel's advice would have been a wiser choice but "then Absalom and all the men of Israel said, 'The counsel of Hushai the Archite is better than the counsel of Ahithophel.' For the Lord had ordained [purposed, in the NKJV] to thwart the good counsel of Ahithophel, so that the Lord might bring calamity on Absalom." (1 Samuel 17:14)
The Lord ordained the confusion of David's enemies--why? Because He had anointed and appointed him to be a successful king and God always backs up His promises. If you don't believe it-- just look at my life.
He brought me to His banqueting table,
And His banner over me is love.
I am my Beloved's and He is mine;
His banner over me is love.
We can feel the love of God in this place:
We believe Your goodness; We receive Your grace.
We delight ourselves at Your table, O God.
You do all things well: just look at our lives.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Wasting Away On A Sunny Day...
Sometimes I feel as if when I'm not doing something, I am being lazy, not earning my keep. For some reason, there is this paradigm in my life that dictates to me that responsibility is a burden meant to be heavy and, well, burdensome. There's a kingdom-principle that I think God is letting me learn (that I most certainly do not yet have down) that it is okay to rest. Why is it that I feel the need to be incessantly stressed? Why does relaxing feel like laziness instead of a way of life? I do not want to be a stretched, uptight person. That is not really who I am when it comes down to it but for some reason, the further I get away from God, the more I live like so.
It is being revealed to me how the drive to earn my place is an issue of a slave-mentality. The Israelites had to learn in the desert what their position with God was. In the wilderness, the in-between land, the place of preparation, the chosen and anointed had to learn what their calling meant. Redding is a desert of sorts for me. Mind you, it is far more green than most and I am not truly alone out here. I have all the conveniences of running water (Holy Spirit) and manna (revelation) but the desert is in the difficulties, the dry places, the intense battle of faith and fear.
A dear friend from home and I were talking the other day about how reality truly is not an easy place to live out all that God is doing. Too much is going on and it's far more dead-man-natural to be wound tight and live out of an insatiable need to get ahead. As I began to tell him what Holy Spirit revealed to me about his life, I realized it applied for my own as well. God has many people in my life (especially those close to me) in various areas of struggle and growth. A majority of us feel like we are in the in-between land, as if something will change but it has definitely not happened yet. What was so revelatory to me is how essential genuine rest is to daily life. The Sabbath is not a joke; it is a life-principle. It is not a legalistic, another-rule-for-the-book either. Busyness is not forbidden and laziness is. But I have never known genuine trust to come out of a place of works or stress either. Trust is in the letting go, the sigh of release, the I've-done-my-part-and-I-know-God-will-do-His.
As trite as it may seem, this song keeps coming up in my life and even though the whole idea in it is not one I'd express for myself, I enjoy the way it works as a soundtrack to me releasing my worries and joys to the Creative One.
Yeah, I've been out of work;
It's been a long time and I'm down to my last dime,
Sitting on the beach with the sand in my feet.
I'm soaking up the sunshine.
Maybe I should care, but I don't.
I don't know what to tell ya.
Yeah, I'm wasted down here in California.
I woke up this morning: it's way past 10
Another day, here we go again:
Thinking about all the things that I got to do;
Its a whole lot of nothing.
I should get a job, but I won't.
I wouldn't want to spoil this,
Hanging out every day
and I'm loving every minute of it.
I live in California--wasting away on a sunny day.
I live down in California--I don't mind just feeling fine.
Wearing the same old torn up t-shirt
and its giving me a sunburn.
I got no where to go and I got nothing to show.
Yeah, but it could be worse.
Maybe I should care, but I don't;
I don't know what to tell ya.
I'm wasting down here in California.
It is being revealed to me how the drive to earn my place is an issue of a slave-mentality. The Israelites had to learn in the desert what their position with God was. In the wilderness, the in-between land, the place of preparation, the chosen and anointed had to learn what their calling meant. Redding is a desert of sorts for me. Mind you, it is far more green than most and I am not truly alone out here. I have all the conveniences of running water (Holy Spirit) and manna (revelation) but the desert is in the difficulties, the dry places, the intense battle of faith and fear.
A dear friend from home and I were talking the other day about how reality truly is not an easy place to live out all that God is doing. Too much is going on and it's far more dead-man-natural to be wound tight and live out of an insatiable need to get ahead. As I began to tell him what Holy Spirit revealed to me about his life, I realized it applied for my own as well. God has many people in my life (especially those close to me) in various areas of struggle and growth. A majority of us feel like we are in the in-between land, as if something will change but it has definitely not happened yet. What was so revelatory to me is how essential genuine rest is to daily life. The Sabbath is not a joke; it is a life-principle. It is not a legalistic, another-rule-for-the-book either. Busyness is not forbidden and laziness is. But I have never known genuine trust to come out of a place of works or stress either. Trust is in the letting go, the sigh of release, the I've-done-my-part-and-I-know-God-will-do-His.
As trite as it may seem, this song keeps coming up in my life and even though the whole idea in it is not one I'd express for myself, I enjoy the way it works as a soundtrack to me releasing my worries and joys to the Creative One.
Yeah, I've been out of work;
It's been a long time and I'm down to my last dime,
Sitting on the beach with the sand in my feet.
I'm soaking up the sunshine.
Maybe I should care, but I don't.
I don't know what to tell ya.
Yeah, I'm wasted down here in California.
I woke up this morning: it's way past 10
Another day, here we go again:
Thinking about all the things that I got to do;
Its a whole lot of nothing.
I should get a job, but I won't.
I wouldn't want to spoil this,
Hanging out every day
and I'm loving every minute of it.
I live in California--wasting away on a sunny day.
I live down in California--I don't mind just feeling fine.
Wearing the same old torn up t-shirt
and its giving me a sunburn.
I got no where to go and I got nothing to show.
Yeah, but it could be worse.
Maybe I should care, but I don't;
I don't know what to tell ya.
I'm wasting down here in California.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Second Star To The Right & Straight On To Maturity
“All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this: One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, ‘Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!’” Peter Pan.
Never have I felt so ill-equipped in my life. The first month in Redding was probably one of the hardest times in my life, but every day still felt like an adventure. Now that I am settled in for the long-haul, the shiny-new sparkle of it all is fading. You know that favorite pair of sneakers you have? (Okay, you might not have them, but I do). They were really cool when they were brand new and then there's a stage where they are just shoes, nothing fancy and mostly functional. Yet even further than that, there is a point where the sneakers are worn, comfortable, and have such an air of familiarity that throwing them out is not an option. Okay, life is in the in-between stage for me. California is still beautiful, but the adventure is fading. The initial infatuation, lovey-dovey feeling is now mostly functional: a stepping stone to get to the greener grass.
"Where am I going?" I find myself asking far too often. Others here wonder, "What are you doing when you finish first year?" Right. Like I know. Ask God; maybe He'll tell you (and feel free to pass it on). My brain races with thousands of ideas, from working, college, moving to a random city, a mission trip, although I find myself shaking my head at the idea of moving back home for good, which is odd, considering the level of homesickness is off the charts some days.
"What am I doing?" is a follow-up question. I had a conversation last night about growing up and how it's basically the hardest thing next to diamonds and I was given the most hopeful observance ever: "Feeling like things are above your maturity level never ends." A deep pause took place in me when I heard that. It makes sense, after all. We can never be fully prepared for everything and feel capable to handle all that life tosses our way. Like Benjamin Franklin said, “Our whole life is but a greater and longer childhood.”
A little update on life since August: I've had two people in my life pass away, a couple issues with people dear to me, a lot of open heart surgery between me and Holy Spirit, adjusting to a new location, I moved out, had my job plan fall through, found a new job, lost the new job and found another (teacher's aide), still figuring out a new situation for an evening job, nearly got fired from Starbucks, I'm learning to deal with my own finances, and on top of all that, I just plain miss my family. Oh right: and then there's daily living with people and the fun that comes with it: new friends, Cowboys games, movie marathons, plays, Monday night potluck, parties, and countless other things.
Recently I have especially found myself feeling less and less worthy to deal with different situations in life, especially when I cannot make the answers equal out. Today I had to rearrange my own schedule (oh so dreadful, I know), talk to my manager about changing jobs and possibly quitting, and get a shot for a TB test for the school district. If you know me at all, you know I hate needles. Hate, as in dreadful fear. I went alone and felt like I was being sentenced to death and taxes. I had a pretty decent outward calm but I was screaming with every moment in the waiting room and I nearly cried when the doctor asked, "How are you?" My eyes swam when he grabbed my arm to poke it and then it was over. All the melodrama and terrified anticipation left me tense and I felt silly. There. I'd faced it. So why did I still want to come home and sob when Rachel asked how it went?
I'm learning so much: The next time I have to be sick without my mom, I know that I need people. When someone passes away and the world overwhelms me, I still need people. When I'm just tired and feeling overwhelmed and way too young, I still need people. I guess I just figured that one day I'll "grow up" and not need anyone anymore, but I get it now. The more independent and needless I feel, the more I have that seven year-old complex of knowing it all. Somehow, though, I am also to balance my imagination, dreams, adventure, and idealism with the "weightier" issues of responsibility and reality. It really is the childish versus the childlike; they are not one and the same. After all... '[Jesus] said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.' (Matthew 18:3-4)
Hm, "like little children." But then: "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me." (1 Corinthians 13:11). So sometimes being childlike is okay, but then childish actions and thoughts are to be put away. It goes on to explain in the next chapter pretty well, I think. "Stop thinking like children. In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking be adults. (1 Corinthians 14:20). There is an innocence credited to childhood that is good and healthy, a purity of heart, a faith in the impossible, the humility of having to trust. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." (Matthew 5:8) It's a purity that I'm after, not an abstinence. I am not into restraint, but freedom. Who needs more rules? That, my friends, is the beauty of living from love, not for it. I am made in the image of God; I am learning to live like it:
"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2)
Never have I felt so ill-equipped in my life. The first month in Redding was probably one of the hardest times in my life, but every day still felt like an adventure. Now that I am settled in for the long-haul, the shiny-new sparkle of it all is fading. You know that favorite pair of sneakers you have? (Okay, you might not have them, but I do). They were really cool when they were brand new and then there's a stage where they are just shoes, nothing fancy and mostly functional. Yet even further than that, there is a point where the sneakers are worn, comfortable, and have such an air of familiarity that throwing them out is not an option. Okay, life is in the in-between stage for me. California is still beautiful, but the adventure is fading. The initial infatuation, lovey-dovey feeling is now mostly functional: a stepping stone to get to the greener grass.
"Where am I going?" I find myself asking far too often. Others here wonder, "What are you doing when you finish first year?" Right. Like I know. Ask God; maybe He'll tell you (and feel free to pass it on). My brain races with thousands of ideas, from working, college, moving to a random city, a mission trip, although I find myself shaking my head at the idea of moving back home for good, which is odd, considering the level of homesickness is off the charts some days.
"What am I doing?" is a follow-up question. I had a conversation last night about growing up and how it's basically the hardest thing next to diamonds and I was given the most hopeful observance ever: "Feeling like things are above your maturity level never ends." A deep pause took place in me when I heard that. It makes sense, after all. We can never be fully prepared for everything and feel capable to handle all that life tosses our way. Like Benjamin Franklin said, “Our whole life is but a greater and longer childhood.”
A little update on life since August: I've had two people in my life pass away, a couple issues with people dear to me, a lot of open heart surgery between me and Holy Spirit, adjusting to a new location, I moved out, had my job plan fall through, found a new job, lost the new job and found another (teacher's aide), still figuring out a new situation for an evening job, nearly got fired from Starbucks, I'm learning to deal with my own finances, and on top of all that, I just plain miss my family. Oh right: and then there's daily living with people and the fun that comes with it: new friends, Cowboys games, movie marathons, plays, Monday night potluck, parties, and countless other things.
Recently I have especially found myself feeling less and less worthy to deal with different situations in life, especially when I cannot make the answers equal out. Today I had to rearrange my own schedule (oh so dreadful, I know), talk to my manager about changing jobs and possibly quitting, and get a shot for a TB test for the school district. If you know me at all, you know I hate needles. Hate, as in dreadful fear. I went alone and felt like I was being sentenced to death and taxes. I had a pretty decent outward calm but I was screaming with every moment in the waiting room and I nearly cried when the doctor asked, "How are you?" My eyes swam when he grabbed my arm to poke it and then it was over. All the melodrama and terrified anticipation left me tense and I felt silly. There. I'd faced it. So why did I still want to come home and sob when Rachel asked how it went?
I'm learning so much: The next time I have to be sick without my mom, I know that I need people. When someone passes away and the world overwhelms me, I still need people. When I'm just tired and feeling overwhelmed and way too young, I still need people. I guess I just figured that one day I'll "grow up" and not need anyone anymore, but I get it now. The more independent and needless I feel, the more I have that seven year-old complex of knowing it all. Somehow, though, I am also to balance my imagination, dreams, adventure, and idealism with the "weightier" issues of responsibility and reality. It really is the childish versus the childlike; they are not one and the same. After all... '[Jesus] said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.' (Matthew 18:3-4)
Hm, "like little children." But then: "When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me." (1 Corinthians 13:11). So sometimes being childlike is okay, but then childish actions and thoughts are to be put away. It goes on to explain in the next chapter pretty well, I think. "Stop thinking like children. In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking be adults. (1 Corinthians 14:20). There is an innocence credited to childhood that is good and healthy, a purity of heart, a faith in the impossible, the humility of having to trust. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God." (Matthew 5:8) It's a purity that I'm after, not an abstinence. I am not into restraint, but freedom. Who needs more rules? That, my friends, is the beauty of living from love, not for it. I am made in the image of God; I am learning to live like it:
"Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when he appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2)
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