The Lion

"I do think,” said Shasta, “that I must be the most unfortunate boy that ever lived in the whole world. Everything goes right for everyone except me. Those Narnian Lords and ladies got safe away from Tashbaan; I was left behind. Aravis and Bree and Hwin are all as snug as anything with that old Hermit; of course I was the one who was sent on. King Lune and his people must have got safely into the castle and shut the gates long before Rabadash arrived, but I get left out.”

And being very tired and having nothing inside him, he felt so sorry for himself that the tears rolled down his cheeks.

What put a stop to all this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered that someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. And the Thing (or Person) was going so quietly that he could hardly hear any footfalls. What he could hear was breathing. His invisible companion seemed to breathe on a very large scale, and Shasta got the impression that it was a very large creature. And he had come to notice this breathing so gradually that he had really no idea how long it had been there. It was a horrible shock.

The Thing (unless it was a Person) went on beside him so very quietly that Shasta began to hope he had only imagined it. But just as he was becoming quite sure of it, there suddenly came a deep, rich sigh out the the darkness beside him. That couldn’t be imagination! Anyway, he had felt the hot breath of that sigh on his chilly left hand.

If the horse had been any good—or if he had known how to get any good out of the horse— he would have risked everything on a breakaway and a wild gallop. But he knew he couldn’t make that horse gallop. So he went on at a walking pace. And the unseen companion walked and breathed beside him. At last he could bear it no longer.

“Who are you?” he said, scarcely above a whisper.

“One who has waited long for you to speak,” said the thing. Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep.

“Are you, are you a giant?” asked Shasta.

“You might call me a giant,” said the large voice, “but I am not like the creatures you call giants.”

“I can’t see you at all,” said Shasta, after staring very hard. Then—for an even more terrible idea had come into his head—he said, almost in a scream, you’re not, not… something dead, are you? Oh, please, please do go away? What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world!”

Once more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hand and face. “There,” it said, “that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows.”

Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman. And then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all their dangers in Tashbaan and about his night among the tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert. And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis. And also, how very long it was since he had had anything to eat.

“I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice.

“Don’t you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?” said Shasta.

“There was only one lion,” said the Voice.

“What on earth do you mean? I’ve just told you there were at least two the first night, and–“

“There was only one: but he was swift of foot.”

“How do you know?”

“I was the Lion.” And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. “I was the Lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the Cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the Lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the Lion who gave the horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the Lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”

“Then it was you who wounded Aravis?”

“It was I.”

“But what for?”

“Child,” said the Voice, “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”

“Who are you?” asked Shasta.

“Myself,” said the voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again, “Myself,” loud and clear and gay: and then the third time “Myself,” whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all round you as if the leaves rustled with it.

Shasta was no longer afraid that the voice belonged to something that would eat him, nor that it was the voice of a ghost. But a new and different sort of trembling came over him, yet he felt glad too…

…He turned and saw, pacing beside him, taller than the horse, a Lion. The horse did not seem to be afraid of it or else could not see it. It was from the Lion that the light came. No one ever saw anything more terrible or beautiful.

Luckily Shasta had lived all his life too far south in Calormen to have heard the tales that were whispered in Tashbaan about a dreadful Narnian demon that appeared in the form of a lion. And of course, he knew none of the true stories about Aslan, the great Lion, the son of the Emperor-over-the-sea, the King above all High Kings in Narnia. But after one glance at the Lion’s face, he slipped out of the saddle and fell at its feet. He couldn’t say anything but then he didn’t want to say anything, and he knew he needn’t say anything.

The High King above all kings stooped toward him. Its mane, and some strange and solemn perfume that hung about the mane, was all around him. It touched his forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly, the pale brightness of the mist and the fiery brightness of the Lion rolled themselves together into a swirling glory, and gathered themselves up… and disappeared. He was alone with the horse on a grassy hillside under a blue sky. And there were birds singing. 

I have always loved the picture Lewis paints of Aslan in The Chronicles of Narnia, and listening again to these books on cd has been no different. I think it paints a remarkable picture of His involvement in our lives--one that isn't so clearly seen when I look at my own life. Last night, I was listening before going to sleep, and this passage brought a great deal of peace back to my mind. I thought back over the story and how Aslan, completely unbeknownst to them, had guided them through every step of their journey. His guidance had been quite a fearful one, as they had thought themselves fleeing from deadly danger. And yet, He was lovingly guiding them all along. His midnight chase at the beginning to drive Aravis and Shasta and the horses to meet each other... His protection of Shasta from the wild animals as he lay by the tombs... His last chase to spur the horses on in order to get them there in time to bring the news... And all of these clear appearances of the Lion were accompanied by the directing of every other detail (although the Lion's presence wasn't clearly seen as with the others)--Shasta being seen by King Edmund on the streets in order to hear the Narnian's plans, learn the way across the desert, and meet Prince Corin; Aravis beeing seen by her cousin who was able to safely get her and the horses the rest of the way through the city, but not before hearing the crucial plans of Rabadash against Narnia... each seemingly tragic turn in the story was all orchestrated so perfectly that, had one detail been different, the happy ending would not have been quite so happy. 

It's so beautiful to read about, and so easy for me to see how they could have trusted the Lion all along, knowing He was leading their every step. But it's not so easy to think the same in my own life. I'm in China for less than one more month. After that, I'll go back to America to who knows what. I don't know what comes next. I wasn't too anxious about this before, but having been offered some new options, and the possibility to return to China, I have recently started fretting more. In addition to that, I have been anxious over my remaining time here... What am I doing with my time? How can I most influence these people I love so, sharing God's love with them somehow before I leave them? On and on and on my mind goes with anxious questions as I try to sleep. But again, last night I felt peace. The 'Lion' will lead me--even if He has to chase me to rivers or spur me on with fear, even if he has to 'injure' me in the process or spoil every plan I have made for myself... He will lead me. I am safe, in the sense that He will not let me go astray from His plans. "The mind of a man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps." I can plan as diligently as possible, yet He will still be the one directing my steps, guiding me just as Aslan guided the children and horses even without them knowing...

Shasta, late in the story, finally begins to pick up on his 'safety' in the Lion's care...

…The hillside path which they were following became narrower all the time, and the drop on their right hand became steeper. At last they were going in single file along the edge of the precipice. And Shasta shuddered to think that he had done the same last night without knowing it. “But of course,” he thought, “I was quite safe. That is why the Lion kept on my left. He was between me and the edge all the time…”

We have no need to fear. The 'Lion' will keep on our left when we are walking next to the edge... 

And yet another realization of Shasta's: 

 But of course that was the same boat that Aslan—he seems to be at the back of all the stories—pushed to shore at the right place for Arsheesh to pick me up.

Not only did Shasta recognize the Lion's guidance and protection, but he finally came to know that Aslan was at "the back of all the stories..." Every one of their stories--as different as each was--had Aslan behind it, orchestrating every tiny, and not so tiny, detail to weave all of the stories together for His beautiful plans. Not once was any story out of His control. 

There's a beautiful sort of peace in knowing that I am not writing my own story. There's even peace in knowing that having to fearfully flee, being chased by a terrifying lion, and even injured and put through pain because of that lion, can be God's way of pushing us right where He needs us--for His glory and our good.

Finally, I remember a quote from one of the other Narnia books that relates beautifully to all of this: 

"Is he—quite safe?"

"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver... "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."

Our King is the same. He isn't 'safe'... following Him isn't 'safe'... life with and for Him isn't 'safe.' But He is good. And He is the King. 

Earbuds

So I turned on the song that my friend sent for me to listen to… turned it up, so I could hear it alright, and proceeded to listen, as I simultaneously did some other things. I was enjoying the music—a Christmas song, so of course I loved it—and didn’t even notice anything lacking or different in the song. I continued to listen for some time, until I decided I wanted it a bit louder. I tried to turn it up, only to realize that it was as loud as it would go. But clearly, it was not at full volume. Finally, my eyes shifted down to the white wire coming from the headphone jack in my computer, and I realized that I was listening to this song full blast—but through the tiny headphones, which were not so loud when nowhere close to my ears. I picked up those two little white ear buds, put them in my ears, and was introduced to an incredibly more full and beautiful sound. The ‘oh, this song is kind of nice,’ turned into, ‘wow, this is actually an incredibly beautiful song,’ and it grabbed my full attention more and more--pulling my thoughts away from the other things I was doing. The fullness of the different instruments coming together in the clarity that the ear buds now offered my ears was incredible compared to the distant, muffled sound I had thought I was enjoying before. Then I thought about life and my relationship with God. Of course, I have a relationship with Him… I have for some time now. And I would even go so far as to say my relationship with Him is okay. But I wonder if I’m quite often just being content with a relationship through a distant headphone wire when He would love to offer me the full, complete beauty of the clear, distinct, yet combined sounds of so many instruments directly into my ears.

After experiencing the latter option regarding my music, I definitely wouldn’t want to go back to the distant, dreadfully lacking sound I had settled for previously…

Lessons from the Lotus

So after 11 months of eating lotus root—since China cooks and serves it many different ways in every province I’ve been to—I learned just last night that there is a very special meaning behind the lotus flower.  My Chinese roommate, Nancy, started explaining it to me, so I did some of my own research this afternoon. “The lotus flower starts as a small flower down at the bottom of a pond in the mud and muck. It slowly grows up towards the water’s surface continually moving towards the light. Once it comes to the surface of the water the lotus flower begins to blossom and turn into a beautiful flower.” My roommate’s explanation was similar, talking of the mud this flower begins in, and how incredible it is that it rises above the water so pure, clean, and beautiful. Its life begins in a less-than-ideal, even harsh, environment, one full of mud and mire; but it pushes through the mud until it breaks through the surface of the water a stunningly beautiful flower. As Nancy explained to me, and as I read more online today about “the lotus flower, bringing beauty and light from the murky darkness at the bottom of the pond,” I instantly pictured my time here in China. Although I was sent here to bring this “beauty and light,” I instead felt covered with mud for most of my time here. I spent so much time being selfish, having a pity party, wishing I could leave, even questioning my faith… I hated who I was becoming, as I felt like the mud of the world and my own selfishness were killing me inside. And yet, somehow—clearly by no effort of my own—I kept being lifted further up, gradually feeling some of the mud falling off of me. And although I do not claim to be a beautiful lotus flower now, nor have I ever felt hat way… I was reminded that God sees me that way. Even when I am the most covered in mud, not having the victory I would like and expect to see in my life, He still sees me as a pure, stunning lotus flower—a flower that He is growing further and further away from the mud, closer and closer to the surface of the water and the Son. And God’s role in all of this… leads me into the next part of this lotus flower description.

After the actual ‘flower’ background, Nancy then explained that the seeds of the lotus root, which live in the very center of all the petals, have another meaning all together. Apparently the name of the seeds in Chinese is pronounced the same as the Chinese phrase that describes parents really loving their children and wanting the best for them.  So there again, I was reminded how much God loves me—just as a parent loves his/her child with that ‘parent love,’ which I know I can’t yet fully grasp. I picture parents who, although their children are quite faulted, see only how good-looking, talented, and wonderful they are. These parents are able, and sometimes even unable not to, see past all their children’s faults and struggles because their love is so deep. But on an even deeper level than this ‘parent love,’ God’s love, through the blood of Jesus, washes away all of that ‘mud’ from His children completely… so much so that He doesn’t even see it covering His lotus flowers. Yes, He lets us go through murky, muddy water at times… but that is only because He loves us and wants His best for us. We may not understand why we have to be at the bottom of the pond, but He always does. So regardless of where we are in the pond—bottom, middle, or top—we are still lotus flowers… and He has created us to be beauty amidst ashes, light in the darkness, spectacular flowers inside a muddy pond. :)

The last part of the lotus flower that Nancy explained to me is the leaves. She said that the round shape of the leaves is supposed to represent family and togetherness. These leaves also have medicinal value that can be compared to the healing nature that being with family can bring. My time in China has really shown me how critical this analogy of the leaves is in my life. This year was the first time I was really away from family—my physical family, as well as the family of believers—and this sort of isolation, although I was always surrounded by people, was incredibly hard for me. God reminded me that, although He is ultimately enough to meet all of our needs, He has also created us to live life together as brothers and sisters in Christ—and to really need this support from each other.  

So basically, I—at 25 years old—have finally decided upon my favorite flower. I love the striking metaphor of the lotus flower and am so grateful for the life-changing reminders it brings. No matter how muddy the water is and the flower feels… He still sees, and is carrying up, up, and up… His beautiful lotus flower.

Just Sharing :)

A devo I loved this morning... had to share. :)

When You're in the Middle of a Struggle

Posted: 29 Jun 2012 06:59 AM PDT

We talk about our struggles. We're friends, fellow travelers on this journey. She keeps repeating a phrase, "I'm the girl who...."

It's the phrase I've heard from the lips of hundreds of women. From my own too.

We face a challenge and redefine ourselves by it.

Here are some I've said:

I'm the girl who has social anxiety.

I'm the girl who has depression.

I'm the girl who can't have children.

Those sentences trap us, limit us, make us believe we are our worst moments.

I clear my throat and whisper quietly into the phone what has set me free...

"That's not who you are, friend, it's where you are right now."

She sighs with relief and says the words that are like candy for my ears, "You need to write about this on your blog." So here we are. Because I need to hear this truth more than once...and maybe you do too.

Your struggle is not your identity.

It's your location at the moment.

If there were spiritual GPS, we could locate your spot in the desert. Imagine you did so with me and I said, "This place is my identity forever." You'd shake your head and say, "You're on your way to the Promised Land! This is just a temporary stop!"

Then you'd remind me...

I'm the girl who is God's daughter.

I'm the girl with strengths placed within me for a purpose.

I'm the girl who's unconditionally loved by Someone who can get me through anything.

Where we are in life changes.

Who we are stays the same wherever we may go.

Where are you today, friend?

And who are you, really?

And an excerpt from one more that was awesome too... 

When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider this: God made one as well as the other. Ecclesiastes 7:14
When life is going well, don't give in to the fear that it won't last.
When life is hard, don't give in to the temptation to pretend everything is okay.
Keep your body and heart in the same place.

"Remember the Signs..."

Stand still. In a moment I will blow, but first remember, remember, REMEMBER THE SIGNS. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night. Whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs. Secondly, I give you a warning. Here on the mountain, I have spoken to you clearly. I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain the air is clear, and your mind is clear. As you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect them to look when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs… and believe the signs. Nothing else will matter.

–Aslan

Wow, how perfect a summary of my time here. As I listened to The Silver Chair, by C.S. Lewis, today, this quote struck me quite beautifully. Jill Pole is about to go to Narnia for her first time. This is her first interaction ever with Aslan, so she doesn’t know his normal method of interacting with the children and his mysterious appearing and disappearing. He gives her such clear instructions, and everything makes sense in that moment. But He then gives her a warning about the lack of clarity that is to come… My brain didn’t have to work to hard to connect this to my own life. About this time 2 years ago, God filled my life with this kind of clarity. He absolutely showed Himself to me in ways I had never experienced Him; He blew my mind with His power, goodness, and involvement in my life; He brought me to a place of being so in love with Him… because I saw a glimpse of who He is, and I could not resist being in love with who He is. I was up on that mountain overlooking Narnia. And in those moments, I couldn’t imagine life not having that kind of clarity again. He was so real. So there. So present and visibly involved in every area of my life. I started fighting what I had grown up my whole life hearing—that there will be mountaintops and there will be valleys in my relationship with God… that I can’t always be on the mountaintop. Why can’t I? In those moments, I thought I would forever be on that mountaintop, more in love with my God than I ever could have imagined, seeing so clearly who He is and who I am in Him—who He has called me to be. Having a clarity about God and life that the rest of the world seems to lack. “Here on the mountain, I have spoken to you clearly.” He certainly did speak to me clearly during that time. And it was oh so beautiful. But then He blew me to Narnia…

Since coming to China, I have experienced the air thickening—in more ways than one—and I haven’t done so well at heeding Aslan’s instructions to “take great care that it does not confuse your mind.” Oh, how my mind has been confused. I have questioned my faith. I have questioned, in a sense, God’s goodness. I have questioned whether I can keep going on this journey with Him. Before coming here, I had read over and over how hard this journey can be… I should have been prepared. Aslan stressed the importance of the signs over and over again… because they “will not look at all as you expect them to look when you meet them there”; and in my own life, my experience in this place is something I never expected. But I am so grateful for today. I feel God cleared the air today just enough to remind me of the clarity He gave me back on that mountain. A glimpse hopefully long enough for me to take hold, once again, of the promises and truths I knew so well before the air in my world thickened so.  I don’t have to understand what is happening in the middle of the thickness. If I can just hold fast to what I know is true in the clear mountain air, then “nothing else will matter,” even in the thick air of Narnia.

I am still in love with my God. I still trust His goodness. I know He is still so ever present in my life, even though the thick air has momentarily prevented me from seeing Him as clearly as before. Why can’t we always be on the mountain? Well, if we were always on the mountain, how could He teach us to really trust Him in the thickness of the valleys? It was easy to trust the good, faithful Lion when I was walking together with Him on top of a mountain—watching Him do one incredible thing after another. Can I trust Him when I cannot see His strength right beside me and feel Him as I cling to His gentle mane? I only hope that I am gradually learning to do so… Thanks for praying for me and supporting me as He so patiently teaches me. :)

“Whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs.” I hope that—through His strength—nothing in the rest of my time here, or beyond, will ever be able to turn my heart and my mind from following Him. 

Doulos

A bondslave… this whole concept of a bondslave is definitely one that I’ve really loved. A slave with the chance to walk away from a life of slavery… yet who chooses to continue in slavery because of love for his master. I think it’s always, in a way, been a rather glamorous (for lack of a better word) picture to me… you know, like something out of a movie. The story of a slave, who chooses to stay with his beloved master when offered this chance for freedom. And of course, his life is wonderful because his master is worth serving. The ‘freedom’ offered wouldn’t really have been freedom. It would have been slavery to another life. Instead, there is freedom in serving his dear master. Sigh… And although I do still agree with all of this to a degree, the past few months have been rather transforming my idea of this concept.

Basically, I do not know how to explain to you all what I have faced these past few months. It doesn’t make sense, even to me, so to try to make anyone else understand… well, that’s beyond me. I don’t know if it has been sp’rtual attack, culture shock, just some stage I had to face, something completely different, or a combination of all of the above. But I have not been the person I used to know… and I haven’t liked who I have been. I do not exaggerate when I say I have been a disaster. Granted, I tried to hold it together on the outside, so most people don’t really know. But inside, I have been fighting quite the battle. To make a long, terrible story short, last month I really considered, for the first time in my life, walking away from Gd. I can’t even believe now that I’m typing these words, and I most assuredly could not believe then that I was thinking those thoughts, but it happened. It’s not that I questioned anything I believe. I believe in HIM just as much as ever, but I sure did lose hope in myself. I started to question if I could really keep living for Him. A life surrendered to Him is not easy, and I’ve been feeling that. So for the first, most terrifying time ever, I contemplated leaving it all… and as dramatic as you may think it sounds, it was terrifying. How could I ever think about walking away from Gd, the only One I’m here for, my Everything, the One who gave it all for me, who loves me more than anyone else? I couldn’t understand myself, and I couldn’t snap out of ‘it’… whatever ‘it’ was. But during this time, the whole concept of the bondslave frequented my thoughts. As romanticized as I had always made it out to be, the fact is… being a slave is hard, no matter who one’s master is. Chosen or not, a life of slavery is not easy. So would I choose to continue serving my Master, who does deserve my everything? Or would I walk away from it all?

I really did ponder that question. And I cannot say that I will never ponder it again. But in the midst of all of this, I realized that—although a life of slavery is difficult, yes—I will always be a slave. The question is… who or what will I be a slave to? Just as in my initial picture of a slave—that this slave’s ‘freedom’ wouldn’t really have been freedom, but simply slavery to another life—that is true in my life. ‘Freedom’ from slavery to Chr’st is slavery to the world and to a life without Gd that I don’t want to know…  No matter what I face as I try to live surrendered to Him, I want no other life. He is the only reason I live. Serving Him is the life I choose, no matter how it feels at times. And that’s the thing… I don’t have to ‘feel’ a certain way to be f’ithful to Him. I’ve been so discouraged, struggling in my walk with Him, questioning everything… but I can still just keep going. I’ve continued talking to Him when I didn’t understand. I’ve continued reading His precious words when I didn’t feel like it. I have felt like a terrible failure, but my Master loves me all the same, and He walks each step of this with me.

Another thing that really hit me during this time was sparked by something my dear friend, Carmen wrote on her website: www.hiccupz.com. She talks about a butterfly she saw while sitting outside one day:

I watched it for a while as it fluttered about, showing off its colorful new wardrobe. Sometimes it would barely move its wings as it gracefully glided through the air while other times it would flap frantically to stay above ground. It went up and down, side to side, and in loops here and there, but no matter what it did, it was full of grace and beauty. Though sometimes its flight was easy and other times its flight was harder, the truth that outweighed everything else was that it was flying! This creature had been given a new life. It was no longer crawling along the ground in the dirt and mud, moving slowly and low in its abilities. No, now it had the capability to fly above that old life and experience things that it never could before. Though the butterfly had its struggles, they were overshadowed by the gift of being a beautiful butterfly, a gift that even at its lowest point triumphed over the caterpillar’s highest points.

One day as I was wrestling through these things, considering walking away from it all, and thinking about this picture of the butterfly, I thought… it is ridiculous really. A butterfly, even if it wanted to, couldn’t turn back into a caterpillar. And why would it want to? Just as Carmen said, even at its lowest points, the flight of the butterfly—the new life it has been given—is more beautiful than the caterpillar’s life of crawling through the mud ever could be. So why? Why would I want to go back to that, even if flying is hard sometimes?

Live like a butterfly

Live like you’ve found new life

The wind may blow, the tears may flow

But the old you is dead

This caterpillar’s been transformed into a butterfly instead.

Each stage on this journey, with all of its new thoughts, hasn’t brought me back to the place where I have felt the ‘young love’ feeling of being in love with J’sus and being so passionate and excited in everything I do. In fact, it has all been such a gradual journey that I’m never quite sure where I am or how I’m doing. But tonight, as I pulled out my guitar for the first time in a while, I just felt peace. I realized that it’s okay that I don’t feel like that. I won’t always feel like that. But for the first time since feeling so terribly close to the edge, I actually said the words, “it’s going to be okay,” and really meant and believed them. I know I am still wrestling, and that—as peaceful as I feel right now—this battle is still raging. But I also know, at least for now while my mind is clear, that there is no other life for me to go back to. I will never be a caterpillar again. I choose to be a bondslave to the most amazing Master there is. I want to be His bondslave. I don’t want to walk away from it all. He is mine, and I am His. And as oxymoronic as it may sound…

…a life of slavery to Him is the only real freedom there is.            

So grateful for what He did to offer me this freedom…

                And when I think that Gd, His Son not sparing

                Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in

                That on the cr’ss, my burden gladly bearing

                He bled and died, to take away my sin

                Then sings my soul, my S’vior Gd, to Thee

                How great Thou art, how great Thou art

                Then sings my soul, my S’vior Gd, to Thee

                How great Thou art, how great Thou art

Promise

"My flesh and my heart [are failing] but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." --Psalm 73:26

A Breath or Two - Jimmy Needham

Wilting...

Ok, so maybe--disregarding my previous post--I am capable of just giving up. Someone jokingly said to me earlier tonight, "your childhood is wilting," referring to a flower that smelled like my childhood. But to be quite honest, that's rather how I feel...

Sulking in Silence?

One of the scariest things I've ever experienced is to really, seriously think about walking away from everything I've ever believed in... choosing to leave it all behind, not because I don't believe it anymore... but because I don't feel like I can keep going. But in the midst of these thoughts, this quote from Prayer, by Philip Yancey, hit me today:  

A woman, age forty-one, wrote first about her conversion as a Jewish believer in Jesus, and then of a daunting trial, breast cancer that had spread to lungs and liver. Sometimes she would pull away from God completely, but then "after sulking in silence for a period of days or weeks, I would come back to God slowly and reluctantly, a pout still on my face, but recognizing that I didn't know how to live apart from God."

I don't feel like I could ever really walk away from God, because like this woman, I don't even know how to live apart from Him. He is my life, the only reason I live. He is my everything. But the past few days have been scary--the thought that leaving it all has even become an option. I don't understand this season in my life... the past 7 months, I feel like I have experienced more intense, consistent, and ongoing spiritual attack than any other time in my life. God has seemed so strangely quiet. I feel like there is a wall up between us. At every other time in my life--since finding genuine relationship with Him--I could at least cry out to Him, share my heart with Him, regardless of what i was facing. But now, I don't even feel like I can genuinely do that. I feel so disconnected, like my words don't even reach Him. I don't know *why*... but these other words from Yancey's book offered some new perspective:

Often God rules by overruling.

One scene in particular shows the built-in limitations of prayer. "Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift you as wheat," Jesus informed Peter, pointedly using his old name. "But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail." With characteristic bluster Peter insisted he would follow Jesus to prison and to death, and it was then Jesus revealed the ugly truth that actually Peter would deny him three times before the rooster crowed that same day. I cannot help wondering why Jesus didn't flat-out deny Satan's request to test Simon: "No, he's off limits. You can't touch him!" Or why didn't Jesus miraculously embolden Peter so that he could withstand the sifting? Instead he chose the more subtle tack of praying that Peter's faith not fail.

Of course, Peter's faith did fail, three times. Does this request belong in the list of Jesus' unanswered prayers? Or does it, rather, hint at the underlying pattern of how God operates on earth? The scene with Peter has fascinating parallels with the account of Judas. There too, a trusted disciple failed a test of faith, with consequences that seemed catastrophic. Luke, staggered by such treachery, reports simply, "Then Satan entered Judas." How else to explain such a deed?

Judas and Peter both got caught up in a drama of spiritual warfare that they could neither recognize nor fathom. Satan directly pursued both disciples, yet each bore a measure of personal responsibility, for Satan conquers no one without cooperation. Both men miserably failed their test of faith, betraying a master they had followed for three years. Nonetheless, even after their failure both faced the possibility of redemption. One realized his error and hung himself. The other realized his error, repented, and became a pillar of the church. Is it possible that Jesus' prayer for Peter kept him from becoming another Judas?

...Jesus' prayer for Peter shows the same pattern in sharp relief. Satan partially got his way with Peter, sifting him like wheat. But in answer to Jesus' prayer, the sifting rid Peter of his least attractive qualities: blustery self-confidence, a chip on his shoulder, a propensity to violence. The Gospels show Peter urging Jesus to avoid the cross, cowering in the darkness the night of Jesus' trial, and denying with an oath that he knows him. In the book of 1 Peter a transformed apostle uses words like humble and submit, and welcomes suffering as a badge of honor.

God has not leashed the forces of evil, not yet anyway, but has provided resources beyond our awareness, including the personal concern of the Son, to counter and even transform evil. We know that prayer matters because after leaving earth Jesus made it one of his primary tasks: "Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them." As Jesus once prayed for Peter, now he prays for us... In fact, the New Testament's only glimpse of what Jesus is doing right now depicts him at the right hand of God "interceding for us." In three years of active ministry, Jesus changed the moral landscape of the planet. For nearly two thousand years since, he has been using another tactic: prayer.

When I betray the love and grace God has shown me, I fall back on the promise that Jesus prays for me--as he did for Peter--not that I would never face testing, nor even fail, but that in the end I will allow God to use the testing and failure to mold me into someone more useful to the kingdom, someone more like Jesus.

I can't see God's picture of the past 7 months... or of the months to come. But I *want* to trust Him that He is and will continue using these times--including my epic failures--to mold me into someone more useful to His kingdom. 

My last scrambled thoughts relate to the concept of a bondslave. The past year or two, I have come to love that picture... the picture of a slave who chooses to remain in his master's service, because he loves him and doesn't want to leave him. That's what we are in Christ. We are bondslaves--choosing this life of living and sacrificing for Him because we love Him. But the past few days, this picture has become more real in my life... and with this newfound reality, it has lost some of the glamor surrounding simple discussion of the 'concept.'

I mean, when you really think about it, the initial picture is so beautiful because nobody *wants* to be a slave. So it is incredible that somebody would choose to remain a slave when given the option to leave. A bondslave chooses a life of servitude out of love for his master, not out of desire for an easy life or any other warm, fuzzy feelings. So the very fact that I call myself a bondslave of Christ, in reality, should tell me that my life is going to be tough. Continually making that choice to serve Him, even with the option of leaving, is one that I will make out of love for Him in the knowledge of who He is. As the question of walking away from it all has entered my mind, I have only begun to realize the depths of what the life of a bondslave is. One final quote from Yancey's book seemed to connect some of this in my mind:

Jesus knew, too, the cost of divine restraint, the deeply personal cost of letting the world have its way with him. He understood that redemption comes from passing through the pain, not avoiding it: "for the joy set before him [he] endured the cross." Somehow redeemed suffering is better than no suffering at all, Easter better than skipping Good Friday altogether, Although Jesus knew the redemptive pattern in advance--he had revealed it to his disciples--how remote it must have seemed to him in the garden and on the via dolorosa. How remote it seems to all of us in the midst of our trials.

It's hard to see anything in the midst of life these past 7 months. Every time I feel like I'm starting to stand back up from one of the enemy's attacks, I get knocked down even further than before. I am tired, I am discouraged, I feel like giving up. And yet somehow I don't think I can. So all I know to do is to keep taking it one step at a time... and to keep believing all of these truths I just shared, even though I can't feel them... and to remember that Jesus Christ is interceding for me... "not that I would never face testing, nor even fail, but that in the end I will allow God to use the testing and failure to mold me into someone more useful to the kingdom, someone more like Jesus."

"The next time you face something 


                          unwanted, 


             unexpected,  
   
                                              and uncertain... 


just consider it as a gift." 

A Broken String

So I broke a guitar string today. Except the strange thing is that 'I' didn't really break it. Actually, I don't know why it broke. So I decided that there had to be a reason, and maybe the reason was that God wanted to teach me something through it, so we're gonna go with that. :)

So I found out tonight--by accident--that my roommate might be leaving China. Apparently I wasn't supposed to know, because she didn't tell me. But my other co-worker did, without knowing I didn't know. It came as such a shock... and *not* a good shock, to say the least. I met my roommate last August in Richmond when we had a few days' training before moving to China. We found out then we would be roommates for our year in China. And since then, having her in my life has been more of a blessing than I can even explain. I'd say we're fairly similar in personalities, and we basically just hit it off since the beginning... probably since the first day of training when she said we should get a bubble machine and disco ball for our apartment. Umm... heck yes? :) Initially I had thought I didn't want a roommate, but now I wouldn't have it any other way. We've been on this whole China adventure together, and I can't imagine what it would have been like without her. I know God put us in each other's lives... He knew that we would need each other on this journey. All of the other American instructors here just have such different lifestyles that rooming together would have been tough. But Allison and I... we just fit. I know it wasn't an accident that we ended up here together... and the thought of that ending with 6 months left to go... was pretty much devastating. So as I got off the phone with my co-worker, I let it all sink in and tried not to overreact (which apparently is difficult for me, since I initially started crying when I found this out... ;). I started praying through it all and then decided to just spend some time praising God... because He does know what He is doing... He is good... He is worthy of our trust. So I pulled out my guitar and just started singing. It was a sweet time, although I ended it still just feeling really heavy. I then spent some time praying for Allison. And as I was finishing that, my guitar--which I had previously set gently on my bed--made a resounding 'poing' as one of the strings snapped in two. I hadn't touched it. I hadn't just finished playing it. I hadn't done anything to it. Why did a string snap? Well, for dramatic, over-reactive girl, apparently that was the last straw... or the last string (bahaha... come now, you know you laughed). So I started crying... again. I suppose the broken string was a better picture of how I 'wanted' to feel with the tough news I'd just gotten. And I don't know... something about it was just triggering... I had just recently finished getting my guitar fixed, so I could worship with it again... really the best way I know how to do that here. Why did a string have to break? I'm really not a guitar person, so much so I don't even know how to change a string. And now, as I innocently sat away from my guitar, without even touching it, this string had snapped... right as I was trying to figure out how to cope with this not-so-wonderful news. But even as I released some of that emotion that wanted out, I tried to figure out what I could learn from this. Connecting the two events in my mind, I realized that God is just as in control of mine and Allison's lives as He was of that string breaking. Now we can sit here and argue over whether or not God broke my guitar string. But it all comes down to this... He is an all-knowing God. I mean, good grief, He knows how many hairs are on my head--a number that is constantly changing, as you'd well know if you ever simply ran your fingers through my hair. He cares about the tiny details in my life. He knew when the string would break, as well as how it would affect me at that moment. So whether or not you agree, I believe that He decided to let that string snap... or maybe even flicked it Himself. But oh so much more than He cared about that completely un-noteworthy event, He cares so deeply about Allison's life... and about my life... and about how both of our lives will change if she leaves China. Just as I asked why the stupid string on my guitar had to break without me even touching it... I could ask why my dear friend/roommate/China journey partner may end up leaving me. But as much as I wonder if God had something to do with that string snapping... I know that He is in complete control of mine and Allison's lives and whether or not she will stay or go. Just as He knew that we were supposed to begin this journey together... He knows how it's supposed to end. He knows what the next 6 months should look like, and He is so very good. I can trust Him. I don't have to know what's going to happen. I don't have to understand why it has to happen. I can simply know that HE knows what's going to happen. And HE knows why it has to happen. And He is just good. So that... is beautifully reassuring. Sure, I'm still sad that it might happen. But I know that whatever happens, we'll be okay... actually, as I believe I've said once before on this blog, we'll be better than okay. :) 

Wrestling with God

So I feel like I’ve been wrestling with God lately—searching for some understanding and clarity especially in the area of prayer. But until today, I hadn’t been getting any answers and didn’t know quite how to keep going. In fact, I really feel like there’s been a wall up between God and me. This all started several weeks ago as I started grappling over the issue of healing and praying for healing. What is that supposed to look like? Does God still want to heal today the way that He healed in the New Testament? Do we limit the healing He wants to do because we don’t ask for it or don’t believe that He will answer it? Are we supposed to pray in confidence that He will heal, the way His disciples did? What if He doesn’t ‘want’ to heal or has reasons not to do so? Do we pray ‘Your will be done,’ or is that simply praying without faith, trying to ‘give God (or ourselves) an out or excuse’ if healing doesn’t occur? Of course, I don’t have a shred of doubt that God *can* heal. But I do find myself living in great doubt that He ever will. It seems that these days He most often chooses not to… but is that because He has other plans, or because we limit Him, as His disciples did with their small faith (Matthew 17:19-20)?

After beginning this battle, I went to my English small group last Monday night and was driven even further into this quest. We listened to a message by a man who has lived in many different places—including the Middle East—because God took him to those places to serve Him. He told story after story of the intense things God did. Miraculous things. Mind-boggling things. The people from these stories spoke with confidence about what their God would do to show Himself to people, even when those people doubted. One story that stood out to me especially was when this family was living in the Middle East. They lived outside of the area that was protected by American troops, so it was very dangerous. The speaker’s two children had to travel through a very perilous area to go to and from school each day. He lived in anxiety that something would happen to them and finally couldn’t take it anymore. One night, he was out on the roof, and he just cried out to God… “God, I don’t believe that you are either capable of or willing to protect my children!” After crying out to God in this way, he happened to look over to the building beside him, and on the roof of the next building was an American soldier with a gun, standing guard. He proceeded to look to each side of him and saw soldiers positioned all around. Wow, right? But as encouraging as this story was on the surface, I couldn’t grasp it on a deeper level. God isn’t always willing to protect people’s children. He lets things happen. Children die. Parents die. Painful things happen, regardless of our prayers or the faith behind those prayers. If that’s true, why do we pray? What is the point? Who is prayer for? What good does it do? What is it supposed to look like? How do we pray in faith and confidence, having big faith for God to do big things, when He doesn’t always choose to? Are we supposed to pray with confidence? How do we know what we should pray for? Is it a lack of faith on my part when my prayers aren’t answered the way I pray them to be answered?

questions

                  spinning

                                  swirling

                                                    slipping

 

                                                                                startling

                                                                                                         scaring

            stealing…

  

I left that small group in tears, not knowing how to answer any of these questions. And for the next week, I continued not knowing how to answer these questions. I slipped further and further away from God as I didn’t see the purpose of prayer… why should I pray when God is going to do whatever He wants in the end? That question haunted me. I tried to pray, but my prayers were so half-hearted, they seemed empty. I didn’t believe He would answer any of them. And the times I prayed that He would help me answer these questions… would help me get past this blockage… I didn’t believe He would answer those prayers either. So I was stuck in the middle of this terrible circle… praying that I could get past my feeling that prayer didn’t matter, but not believing that I ever would because I didn’t believe He would answer that prayer either! Why was I praying? Why had I ever been praying? A wall began climbing higher and growing thicker between us.

And then I did the only thing I knew how to do, as I felt like I was drowning and starting to care less and less… I sent out a request to my prayer warrior team and just asked them to pray for me. If I couldn’t pray for myself, somebody would have to pray for me. It seemed a last ditch effort—one final pitiful attempt to salvage any of this part of me I was so quickly losing. But I’m writing today to tell you all… that God hears prayers. That’s the only thing I knew to do… but it must have been the thing I needed. Thank you all for praying for me when I couldn’t pray for myself.

I woke up this morning not feeling much different—maybe slightly less discouraged, but nothing huge. My mom had called while I was sleeping, so I called her back; and the longer we talked, it was as if the bricks of that wall were thrown down, one at a time, until… by the time I got off the phone, I felt like I could talk to God again without the emptiness. I could really talk to Him. And I did. And then I spent some time worshiping, thanking Him. At first I thought, wow, my mom had just the right things to say. But then it hit me… the prayers lifted up for me by those I asked… those prayers were answered. It was those prayers that had shaken me from the grasp the enemy had on me. I honestly believe that those same words my mom shared this morning could have been spoken to me before, and they would have done nothing, had people not been praying for me. The power of prayer rang through my heart again as I realized it was the very thing I had been doubting that was freeing me from that doubt… How ironically beautiful is that?

I’ll try to share some of what my mom shared with me, although more than the words themselves… I realize that God answered the prayers of those who lifted me to Him.

My mom shared that it’s not about whether or not our prayers are answered. God is bigger than that. He sees what needs to be done. But it is about praying… offering the prayer, but being willing for it not to be in His plan. She said she asked God the other day for a 4-leaf clover, so she could give it to someone she knew for a specific reason. She started glancing through the clovers, but didn’t want to take long and knew that it was okay if He didn’t want to give her one, so she stood up to leave. Still glancing down as she was beginning to walk away, she saw a clover that practically yelled out, J “Pick me! Pick me!” And there was her 4-leaf clover. A small example? Yeah… but pretty cool. She was then able to boast about God and the way He answered to the person she gave this 4-leaf clover to. She had the opportunity to praise God, which is what it’s all about anyways. Would she have been devastated had she not found a 4-leaf clover? Of course not. But it was cool when she did. She offered that prayer, and then was completely willing for it not to be in His plan.

Another thing that she said really hit me as well. She mentioned the whole idea of sensationalism—when we start looking at the healing, the miracle, the circumstance, the gold dust, the 4-leaf clover, the whatever… instead of God. That’s not what it’s about. When I heard story after story from that speaker about the incredible things that God did… my reaction wasn’t, wow, my God is incredible. My reaction was, what’s wrong with me or my prayers that I’m not seeing ‘those things’ in my life? Yeah, that fits pretty well with sensationalism, eh? That is not what prayer is about. And when it becomes about that in my mind, then I’m praying for the wrong reasons. But then she continued to say that, even though we don’t want to get caught up in sensationalism, that it is sensational when we walk by faith and see the ways God comes through. I had started taking notes on our conversation by this point, J so here’s what my mom said:

It is sensational when we can ask for a 4-leaf clover, find it or not, and be excited. I can ask for wisdom for the night and then just kind of let the night unfold—not manipulating, controlling, forcing… but yet being receptive. That’s sensational when He comes through. The stuff with Cassie [my friend that I’ve previously shared stories about all that God’s doing in her life]—that’s sensational; but you were just walking in simple faith and trusting, asking, hoping, throwing out a little something here and a little something there. But you know, when I read the story or hear you tell the story, it’s sensational. For you, it’s encouraging and sensational [now too], but in the process, it [was] just walking by faith, by trusting, hoping… but it’s sensational. Your friend that you prayed over for healing didn’t wake up the next morning and go, ‘Ahh! I’ve been healed!’ but we don’t know what’s been going on there. But it’s sensational that you were a little intimidated or uncertain of even approaching her, but… that you did that and that she responded so well. All those things in and of themselves seem so small and insignificant, but they’re really awesome. They’re a walk of trust. It’s right where He wants us.    

It is a walk of trust. It is right where He wants us… praying for things, but trusting Him with the results… trusting that His results are sensational, whether they seem to be or not… praying with confidence, yes—not necessarily confidence that He will answer the way we expect, but confidence that He will answer in the most sensational way, as God always does. Hearing story after story of what God is doing in someone else’s life sounds sensational because God does do sensational things. But He always does sensational things… in my life too… they just feel different because I live them out, one tiny, scared step at a time—not knowing what He’s doing now or is going to do next. He is a sensational God—as the dictionary says of this word, “exceedingly or unexpectedly excellent or great”… yes, that is my God. And I must remember to look at my sensational God, not the things He does—in someone else’s life or in my own. The things He does shouldn’t cause me to stay focused on those things, but should turn me directly back to Him.

So let’s ask for a 4-leaf clover, find it or not, and be excited… because whatever way He chooses to answer—whether we can understand or see it at the time—sure is going to be the most exciting, beautiful way we could ever imagine.

I still don’t understand prayer completely. I’m still wrestling—I’m sure there’s so much  more I haven’t grasped, a deeper faith that could change my prayer life and allow God to do even bigger things—and I’m sure I will continue this wrestling until I meet Him in Heaven. But I am so grateful to feel I have come to understand slightly and hopefully more deeply another little piece of it…

Thanks for praying me back, guys. Love you all.

                                                               

Recent Reminders

So I feel like I got a cool life picture during work yesterday. I've been in China for over 6 months now, and have taught up to as many as 23 classes a week, so I've definitely gotten used to teaching... Also, most of our classes have the exact same intro... same greeting, same format, same songs, etc... So I have done this intro countless times now. But yesterday, as I was doing the intro, I started thinking ahead to other parts of the class. I had a moment of worry over whether or not I had done something I needed to for the upcoming part of class. But as my mind wandered into the future over these things, I found myself forgetting where I was and almost messing up the intro that I knew all too well.  I managed to come back to the present just in time to only hesitate a moment before continuing with where I was... but this happened more than once. My mind would anxiously go to the next part of class, and I would start to fumble over where I was in the present. Even as all of this happened, the concept from this verse came clearly to my mind:

"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." --Matthew 6:34

This verse settled into my heart more solidly than before, as God painted me this picture. If our minds are anxiously wandering into the future--whether the future is tomorrow, next week, next month, or next year, we can't be fully present where God has us right now. In my class, there was nothing I could have done at that moment to change whether or not I had prepared for the next part of class. Whatever was coming... was coming... and no worrisome thoughts could have prevented that. It would have come, all the same, and it would have been fine. If nothing else, it probably would have brought a good laugh for everyone, and we would have continued with the class. I feel like life is somewhat the same, except with more security. God has already written my story, and what's coming next... is coming next. No anxious thoughts about the future are going to help anything. They will only take me away from the present God wants me to be living in. And to take it a step further, no anxious thoughts about the future are necessary, for my good Father has prepared exactly what He wants for my future. Joy, sadness, excitement, pain, and whatever else could be coming my way, He is good, and He is bringing it. So I can rest in that and live right where He has me right now.

The one other cool reminder I got came this morning as I read from my Jesus Calling devotional:

Walk by faith, not by sight. As you take steps of faith, depending on Me, I will show you how much I can do for you. If you live your life too safely, you will never know the thrill of seeing Me work through you. When I gave you My Spirit, I empowered you to live beyond your natural ability and strength. That's why it is so wrong to measure your energy level against the challenges ahead of you. The issue is not your strength but Mine, which is limitless. By walking close to Me, you can accomplish My purposes in My strength. -2 Corinthians 5:7, Galatians 5:25

As I read that this morning, God took me back to the time before coming to China. I was scared out of my ever living mind, and--if I would have chosen to 'live life safely'--I would not be here right now. Living in my own natural ability and strength would have left me in Virginia. There's nothing wrong with Virginia, and life probably would have continued just fine there. But... as this devo says... I would have never known the thrill of seeing Him work through me the way He has. He has blown my mind with the lives He's already touched in China--not because of anything I've done, but just because I let Him take me here... so I was the person He decided to use. I'm humbled that He has chosen to use me... in ways that only He could--in His limitless strength. Before I came here, I was measuring the challenges against me in China against my strength, a ridiculous act for a child of God to do. I was walking by sight, not by faith. I pray that I stay available for Him to use...being used by Him is one of the grandest adventures. :)

Happy Valentine's Day!

God put this on my heart as I was thinking about Valentine's Day, and I wanted to share it. Love and miss you all!

Challenge from Others

Contentment in Singleness: is it possible? - Aaron Stern's Blog

Can't say how legit all the other posts on this blog are, but I found this one encouraging, challenging, and just speaking into my life... so I thought I'd share it. :)

Waking Up...

I feel like I’m on the brink of something huge… of letting God do something huge in my heart. I’ve been so dry. I’m in China, away from the solid support system I have always been surrounded by. Most of the time I’m around nobody that is like-minded—that has the same heart or the same faith. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been to church since living here for the past four months. It’s as if I’ve been gradually drained of my passion, the fire that used to burn so brightly. Last week my friend from America stopped in Beijing on his way to Korea, and I was awakened to just how dry and discouraged I was. It hadn’t seemed bad until I was around someone ‘alive’ again. When he tried to talk to me about truth, I resisted. When he noted the lostness of the people surrounding us, I avoided it… because I *know* all too well that burden, and it feels too heavy to carry. What can I do about the utter despair of the people surrounding me in China? I can’t even speak to most of them… and I am so ‘alone’ on this journey. Or am I? I talked to my brother the other night, and he reminded me of the spiritual war that is raging. We are literally fighting an all-out war, and we can’t even see our opponents. My brother reminded me the importance of fasting and praying. The conversation was somewhat discouraging still, as I felt I had nothing left in me to give to what he was saying. But then he spoke some interesting words… he told me he had just prayed that I would be sent two extra angels. One angel alone, he noted, was pretty incredible to have; but he had requested that I have two extra to fight for me. It was touching to hear him talk like that. But more than touching, I woke up the next day feeling like someone extra was fighting for me. I felt like a different person. I felt like my eyes were re-opened to what we’re living for. Second Corinthians 4:18 resounded in my mind: “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” The reality of that verse is so much more clear living in China. If I fix my eyes on what I can see here, I will be drained of my meaning and purpose in life, because I can’t see any of what I could see so clearly when I was surrounded by the truth back home. Oh but if I look to the unseen all around me; if I remember the battle we are in and the lives we are fighting for; if I set my hope on the unseen One that is always carrying me, even though I feel so utterly alone on this quest; if I do all of that, then will I be living for what is eternal again.

Renewed. That is how I felt… and yet I know that the enemy is still warring to keep me complacent and to drain me of any fight that’s trying to come back to me. My dreams last night were discouraging—I struggled with sin and failed to be the woman God has called me to be. I felt almost defeated when I woke up, knowing that I could so easily fall back into that life. But even as I was hit by that twinge of beginning defeat, I also felt something else. I felt my heart trying to come alive even more. Memories of the things God has taught me over this past crazy year started fighting their way into my mind… they were broken bits and pieces of memories… but I felt desperate to grasp them and pull them up to continue this awakening process in my heart. I prayed for clarity of mind—that God would fully reveal to me what He was trying to remind me of. I can almost feel the spiritual battle happening in my own room this morning. It makes sense. I was about to ‘fall asleep’ into complacency and waste this year in China, where I have been called for some unknown purpose… but God is trying to wake me up. It’s happening in little steps, but it’s happening. I prayed last night that, just as He did the spring of 2010, God would help me really fall in love with Him again. When I so weakly and desperately prayed that prayer almost two years ago, He answered me in a way more real than I ever could have imagined. So I made the same request last night, with more hope and expectation than before, and I really want to believe him for just as real an answer in 2012.

So I’m here typing away this morning, trying to grasp what is slowly happening in my heart, before it fades away. I want to capture the memories that started trying to push their way into my fighting mind this morning… so I’m just going to start typing and see what comes out…

•   I remember being awakened with Carmen last year to the meaninglessness in which we so often live. We had a conversation with some friends about how we need to be more than just a different version of the world. The world might go and get plastered to have a good time, blatantly living a meaningless existence. But are Christians any better? Christians get together and play board games, spending their time together ‘innocently,’ while there is so much serving, loving, sacrificing, sharing, giving, and encouraging to be done. No, board games are not inherently evil. But if we let them consume our time together… what are they? These verses in Ephesians 15 seem so clear: “¹⁵Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, ¹⁶ making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. ¹⁷ Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is. ¹⁸ Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit, ¹⁹ speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, ²⁰ always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” So even the time with other believers—should it not be spent worshiping, thanking, praying, interceding, encouraging, and uplifting each other? So wait, wait, wait… is this all a little bit extreme? Yes. And I believe we are called to extreme lives. Anybody remember the disciples and the Acts church? I am not trying to be some crazy legalistic person and say that we can never have fun. But I am trying to say that it makes sense... we wonder why God doesn't move in the big ways we saw Him move in the New Testament church... maybe it's because we are not spending the time asking Him to move the way they did... or spending our time letting Him do those big things through us that He wants to... Do we ask for big things and believe Him for big things? Or do we stay at home and watch movies, hoping that something big will happen at church on Sunday?

• Stepping out and serving… Carmen and I knew we needed to do something. What is this Christian life really supposed to look like? We do a lot of talking and not so much doing. How are we supposed to practically live out what we believe and talk so much about? So we started stepping out. We started trying to find places where we could serve, where we could be, so we could just be a light there. Door after door closed on us. The enemy tried to discourage us. But we kept going to the next door, the next door, the next door, until one swung wide open. God opens doors when we keep stepping out. Do we have to know what we’re doing? No, because He knows. One of the things Carmen and I always said to each other was, “figure it out as we go”… which really involved just going… and letting God figure it out for us. Not a bad way to live?

• Radical. Live radically. Many in the Christian community have settled for normal lives, not looking much different from all of the unbelievers around us. We are called to live radically, to die daily to ourselves, to pick up our crosses, to be the new creations that we are. What are we waiting for?

Memories… so much He has taught me… but what do I do with all of this? What does this look like in China, without my partner in crime/ministry I had in America? What does this look like in a place I can barely speak to people because of the language barrier? What does this look like when I have no other believers to speak to ‘with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit’? I’m not quite sure yet. I’m still figuring all of that out. So if you have any thoughts, send them my way. But more than anything, please keep praying. I feel like I’m tottering back and forth in between falling headlong one way or the other—either into a coma for the rest of the year, because I am so weak and drained and unsure of what all of this looks like in China; or into a passionate pursuit of knowing God in a whole new way and allowing Him to be my strength and use me this year in this place in ways I cannot even begin to imagine. I’m trying to learn to set my eyes and put my hope on the Unseen in China. The battle is real… it is raging… and I know I have only just seen the beginning. But I also know that I am the winning side.

Thank you for your prayers. Keep fighting this battle!