Greatness=Grace

I cannot lie. I live my life in tremendous fear. 

I have this untamed fear of failure. No, not failure in the natural. It has no bearing on my eternity. I am afraid of failing God. 

Remember when you were younger, and you would try so hard to please your parents? You'd draw little pictures, or make up little songs, then you'd look at them to see if they're watching and are happy. It really is one of the greatest feelings in the world. Knowing that the people who matter most are pleased with your performance, or better yet--your effort.

 Its quite unsettling. Thoughts of messing up or not doing enough tend to be what floods my mind. Although its always racing, and other things do consume it...its the most prominent. I cant shake it. In the back of my head I have this terrible feeling that I don't do enough. Part of it stems from how I was raised, the other stems from how Im living. I was raised with the "theres always going to be someone better than you" mentality. Although I'm sure my parents meant to instill that in me to break pride, instead it brought lack of drive. I figured if theres always going to be someone better, why try to be the best? I saw no point in striving for greatness simply because I was never taught that I could be great. Sad. I know. Whats even more sad is that now I struggle with trying to be great but knowing always in the back of my head that I can never do enough. I can never be enough. I would hate to make it to the judgement seat of Christ and still have a very long list of things I had yet to accomplish. I can only pray and trust that when I see Him He'll be pleased. 

I'm so afraid of making a mistake, or stepping out of the will of God that I don't even try anymore. I don't make attempts. I don't wait. This fear has overcome me so much so that sometimes I'm afraid to even move or speak. But recently I got to thinking: I would much rather be held accountable for my failure due to effort, than be held accountable for my failure for lack thereof. The plan of God is so perfect and so spectacular, that we in our human abilities have no way of fulfilling it. But the mercy of God is unquenchable. It reaches far beyond what the eye can see. And He knows, I'll mess up. He knows I'll fail. And He knows I wont ever be able to bring everything to completion and perfection. But the beauty of it all lies in the simple fact that He never asked me to. He leaves room for failure. How do I know? Because His one and only son was sent to shed His innocent and unfailing blood so that my failings wont be held against me. So that your failings wont be held against you. 

My fear? Still there--I will fail God. Him on the other hand, He'll never fail. And that my friends is peace enough for me.

Stones under rushing water

Time is measured in seconds, minutes, hours--moments. 

It is fleeting. Not one mili-second can be brought back. When its gone it cannot be resuscitated. 

I came home for the Thanksgiving holiday. It's always a joy to walk into a house full of people who truly have prepared for and anticipated your arrival. I never get tired of seeing the expressions on my parents faces when I walk in the door.  The gleam in their eyes will never get old to me. The love is evident. While I'm here I'll try my best to make the most of every day with them. I'll try to make as much time for them and others as possible. It's not an obligation, its a choice. I decided today to take an hour and a half nap today, when I woke up later I immediately wished I hadn't. I lost time. I missed moments. Hours I could have spent shopping with my mother or minutes I could have spent sitting with my father--gone.

It is all too often we take advantage of time. We miss opportunities and postpone and wait too much. Much more than we should. And we never even notice it. "The years go by like stones under rushing water, we only know when its gone." The seconds we wish we could change are forever faded. You ever get the feeling you should have done something at that moment? All you thought in your head was "i have time." But what if you were supposed to minister to that person at the bus stop? What if that man in front of you in line at walgreens was going to die later on that day? What if someone around you needed your testimony, your faith--your God? Would you be willing to forsake your schedule for the salvation of a soul? Or are you too consumed by your routines and daily activities, taking part in menial jobs that wont take you anywhere...They guarantee no crown.

I urge you to heed the alarm. Dismiss the minute hand. Don't look at your rolex or your blackberry cause their time passes too. How do you measure time? Better yet, how does the person next to you measure time? Find out soon--They may very well be within inches of death.

The joy on our Fathers face when His children come home after having been gone so long. Think for a moment on how far you've wandered or how long you've run. Surely the angels celebrate when a lost sheep comes home. Its always a joy to see the beaming smiles of people who have waited for you. How much more anticipation would come from that of our bridegroom? The one who has waited for what seems like an eternity. Remember that nap you took today? The one you took when the Lord asked you to talk to him? Remember that tv show or computer program you chose to use instead of listening to your   Beloved? There, moments you'll never get back. Moments that you could have spent talking with your Father--GONE.

What Church?

I have never seen war.

 I've never stared into the eyes of murderers. Never had to sit through the screams of tortured flesh. I have never had to run or hide from anything. Never had a tremendous fear for my life or the well being of my family and friends. I've never had to walk amongst the rubble of dead bodies, or gaze upon children crouching behind abandoned vehicles. Now, Let me make it a bit more personal for you. YOU have never been ripped out of your bed in the middle of the night. Hostage has never been a label you claim. You've never been imprisoned for reasons beyond your control. You've never had your mother and father or sister and brother brutally murdered in front of you. Your brow has never dripped with the toil of till. And your hands have never broken in labor. 

I, you, WE--are blessed.

Out of our mouths flow complaints and mumbles. We grumble about bitterness and gossip and slander our brothers and sisters. Different churches, different cultures, different families...SAME land, SAME species, SAME God.

What church? What church has the right to claim fame? What church has the right to claim sovereignty? What church has the right to claim truth? I'll tell you. The church who's ministry is not money. The church who's heart is not for the saved. The church who's mouths are SHUT in the face of adversity. Jesus was not a back talker. He was not a gossiper, or a bigot. He was not a deacon or a treasurer. He wasn't a politician and He was not a soldier. He was a Saviour. How dare we as a "church" think we have any right to speak against such things. Have we mimicked the attributes of Christ? Does the world see us as refuge? Do they see us as compassionate and loving? No, they see our mess... They see our anger and resentment towards other people and other churches. They see our competition and our backbiting. They see our selective processing and our weapons. 

We have forgotten our battle. We have lost sight of our struggle. We spend all of our time figuring out theologies and trying to separate false doctrine from truth and we lose sight of the real fight. Jesus never came for the saved. He didn't come for the righteous. He came for the sinner. He came for the poor man, the drunkard, the addict, the prostitute, the liars, and thieves. He came for the Mary Magdalene's  and the Zaccheus'. For the Sauls and Judas'. He came for the woman at the well, the blind man on the side of the road, the lame at the beautiful. He came to bring life in abundance. So where do we come in...where do we draw the line? How many more people have to die until we rise up in truth? How long will the world go not knowing what the heart of Jesus really looks like?

We've never in our lives had to fight for anything. We look at our insignificant struggles and cry and moan and complain. We have never had to live with bombs blaring in the middle of the night. Never had our homes broken into to be forced from our beds. Never been bound and gagged or beaten and tortured.   We have never truly had to fight. 

Church, I beg of you. Consider your life. Consider your homes and your cars. Consider yourselves blessed. Then--consider yourselves obligated to do the work and will of the Father. Because we have no right to complain--we have never seen war.

Reversion

Let the rain fall where it may. You cannot change its course.

When I was younger my mom let me play in the rain. I had grown up thinking we were supposed to run away to get out of it. One day when on vacation in Puerto Rico she let me put on my bathing suit and go outside while it was raining. Im sure my eyes beamed at her when I heard I would be allowed to actually go out in the rain. I remember thinking "is she serious?"  So I quickly ran and put on my little suit before she changed her mind. We had just gotten back from shopping and she got me this brand new black one piece that had hot pinks, and yellows, and greens all over it. When I finally had my suit on I ran out onto the pavement of my great grandmothers house. I danced around with my eyes closed soaking in the moments before the rain would cease. I remember it like it was yesterday, its still fresh and vivid in my mind. I even remember looking over at my mother and grandmother and seeing their smiles and nods of approval. And now--I'd give anything to relive that moment. 

Up until recently I hadn't really thought about it. The rain. But forever and always in the back of my mind is that day and the little girl who's mother gave her permission to play in the rain. I always have this urge to run, put on my prettiest colors, and put on my newest clothes--just to run out into the downpour. I want to throw my arms up to catch each drop. I want to dance and sing as it acquaints itself with the ground. After all, this is what sustains the earth. 

Id dare to take it even further and say I have this insatiable desire to run into the glory rain of heaven. Can you imagine ever wanting to run away from drops of glory? Now, imagine running out into the Holy of Holies, barefoot, and dressed in your best. You begin to close your eyes and dance around soaking in the moments before the rain would cease. Eventually you remember where you are and look up into the face of your Father. He reassures you its alright with His smile and nod of approval. 

You'd slowly come to realize that now--you'd give anything to relive that moment.

I am.

"I will be weak, unable to speak--still I will call you by name..."

I sat in my room by myself for a majority of today. Sometimes I appreciate the solitude, other times I find myself in a state of melancholy. Theres too much time to think and dwell on things that don't even matter, at least not yet. Eventually I made my way over to my computer and turned on my itunes. I quickly started to scroll through my music trying to determine what I was in the mood for. I came across a song that I've always held as a sort of anthem to my relationship with the Father. 

The song is about different stages in life. In this case a young girl, and adolescent girl, a married woman, and a mother. The common theme? I am. They all knew the name they could call, each using different adjectives to describe exactly who God was to them. 

Elbow healer, super hero, 

heartache healer, secret keeper, 

shepherd, saviour, 

creator, comforter...

Hold my hand, come if you can,

be my best friend...

And to each resounding cry and plea He answered simply

"I am."

It occurs far too often. We lose our grip. We feel as if the rope has become a thread and could give at any moment, as if our weight is too heavy for Him to bear. Its so easy to forget that He once pierced the skin of His own Son so that we wouldn't have to bear those scars. Instead we inflict our own. We put a knife to our wrists and pray the blood wont stain. We take the medications to soothe our aches. Throw ourselves off of bridges to alleviate our struggles. We've become a generation of masochists, always beating ourselves up because we feel we are lacking. Little did you know that in every moment you tried to end it all He was there. Imagine the torment that would come with knowing your child had no desire to live.
 My solitude has cost me some sanity, I will admit. But my blessings out weigh all of my struggles. 

I have pleaded with Him to carry me, to take me and mold me. I have begged Him to heal me, cried for Him to save me. I have asked Him to be my redeemer and my restorer. I have screamed at the top of my lungs until there was no voice left, for Him to come to me. GOD!! Are you even listening??

And He says "I am."

Naked

I saw a leaf fall today. The wind didn't blow, the tree didn't move. It just fell. Coincidently I walked in its path and it landed on my chest. I quickly removed it and tossed it to the side. They're shedding their old leaves to prepare for spring--their next  blooming season.

Ever since I can remember I've been obsessed with the way trees look when they're bare. They've always had some strange spell over me. I remember staring as we drove through the city. Looking at every branch, every knot, every loose piece of bark. It all seemed so planned to me. To think, once upon a time they were covered in leaves. Lavished in greens and reds, yellows and oranges. At one point they were a significant source of shade, they provided a place to cool off when the sun was unbearable. But the one thing that fascinates me the most, is how even though they're bare and the frigid cold rests on them day in and day out...their branches never manage to make their way to the ground. Even in the harshest of winters--their branches are still outstretched towards the sky. As if to say-- God, You made me, You sustain me, therefore I praise You.

How quickly we forget that we were made, and are sustained. We think that our moments of extreme anxiety and pain give us an excuse to lower our hands. We think that just because our season has passed or because our winter has come, that our arms need not be outstretched. It is then when we are tested and tried. It's when our branches are exposed that our true form can be seen. Why is it that when we've lost everything the storm comes? You tell yourself "but God I've put so much time and effort, I've worked so hard.." Remember Job? He was a bare tree. Everything was stripped away from him. He had no family, no home, no food, not even his health. Even He understood the importance of maintaining his worship. He said "Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart." Job knew he came into this world with nothing, and he will leave with nothing. So why do we cease to worship when our leaves have been shed, when we are bare? That is the perfect time. That is when we can stretch out our arms uninhibited and say--God, You made me, You sustain me, therefore I WILL praise You.

Life through the Red Letters

There is an unseen beauty in this world that science, logic, and religion, seek to describe. Each will give a different explanation as to why and how we exist, a concoction of philosophies that are built on pure intuition. Because they know how an embryo is formed there must be no mystery. Or because we have the capacity to think on our own, there cannot be anything greater than our human mind. It is assumptions like these that have driven scholars, scientists, philosophers, and religious leaders alike to search for truth. With each of them defining the issues of life through his or her worldview, the diversity in our world and cultures has allowed each person to have their own span of views and beliefs. However, I have chosen to live my life through the red letters.

It wasn’t until the late 1800’s that this fashioned printing came about. The red letters I speak of are the once spoken, and highly reverenced words of our Lord Jesus Christ. In many Bibles, the words of Christ are printed in red. Bringing an emphasis not only to His rhetoric, but His urgent and loving message.

Throughout a Christian’s life there are moments a shadow of doubt may cloud the mind. For some, clarity is only but a prayer away. For others, life spins out of control until they no longer hold these crimson truths to be relevant. I wont deny the work of logic and science; they have helped to shape our understanding of the world. But I do not define myself by it. My perception of reality is not measured by the restraints that the physical places on life. Looking beyond the tangible and into the “supernatural” is how I choose to be governed. I do not exempt myself from the standards of the world, but at the same time, I am not who the world tells me I am. While others are defining themselves by culture, or class, I choose to define myself by the words of the man who willingly became the Lamb led to the slaughter. While others embark on “journeys” of self-discovery, I find myself discovering who I am in Him. My reality is not only supernatural, but it is also tangible. Reason will argue that God must not exist because we cannot see Him, because we cannot touch Him, or because we cannot “talk” to Him. Anne Frank argued it best:

“I believe in the sun, even when it doesn’t shine. I believe in Love, even when I don’t feel it. And I believe in God, even when He is silent.”

It is in the moments of silence that we truly find ourselves. It is only then that we can know if what we ourselves hold to be true is indeed--the truth. As Christians, we must decide whether we will live out our lives according to the scriptures, or according to societal outlines. Living life through the red letters is more than lip service. It goes beyond our selves and into the realm of divine strength and appointment. The Bible should be our go to source for everything. Psalm 1:1,2 says, “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, or stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on His law he meditates day and night.” If we delight ourselves in the scriptures and the study of them surely we will be prosperous. If we live according to the words of Christ and allow ourselves to be saturated in His crimson flow, we have no way to go but up.