Distraction

Andrew, this blog is inspired by our conversation regarding distraction.

This morning I found my missing journal from last year. I leafed through the pages and re-read some of my scribbled, extemporaneous thoughts. Those things that distract us from experiencing the Presence of God was the topic of most of my entries. I thought I would share snippets of those with you.

October 26, 2006

....I know what it feels like to share in Your joy--to find fulfillment and contentment in You. The world harbors so many distractions that my sinful, lustful eyes absorb; they catch my attention. But they leave me feeling empty.

When I turn to You, I feel overwhelming joy and I wish to never return to my worldly distractions. But inevitably I do return. The curiosity beckons me back. I open Pandora's Box, and out comes a world of beautiful, enticing, exotic gifts, all of which bear a hidden evil. Once I see past their beauty and stare head on at the evil, I run to You once again.

This is the cycle of my life. If only I would sit long enough in Your Presence to understand that I never really wish to leave.

November 14, 2006

Parker Palmer wrote, "The poles of a paradox are like the poles of a battery: hold them together and they generate the energy of life; pull them apart, and the current stops flowing."

I experienced the sensation of deep, inner longing today, and the only way I can categorize my feelings is as a paradox. I couldn't quite pinpoint the object for which my heart was longing. Somewhere I hoped I was feeling an insatiable longing for God; that my heart was so eager within me to experience His Presence and that my pulsating soul would not quiet itself until I found rest and solitude in Him. This felt much like hope--an eager, intense hope--that is yet unfulfilled, but very certain.

But something else deep within me feared that the object of my intense longing was not God Himself, but some other lesser object that my soul craved. I feared that my lustful gaze and petty heart was whoring after some other god that I believed could fill and satisfy and please this ever-growing craving. And this felt much like emptiness, which led my soul to shed tears to the point of deep sorrow, even though my eyes remained dry and I continued to smile.

So I live in this paradox of feeling like I want nothing less than to pursue the very heart of God, yet fearing that my heart would be content with nothing more than another false god.

But in these moments, I need to turn to You; yea, in these moments, I want nothing less than to spend time in Your Presence communicating with You, sharing this feeling that is much like hope, yet the closest to sorrow I have known. I long for You to create life out of this paradox. Invade my world with a unique calling from You, and give me the strength to passionately pursue You.

And so I wait.

In the balances.

For You.

Just You.

Come.

Abiding in the Vine

Most of the time others can articulate their thoughts much more clearly than I can, so today, I rely on my friend J.P. (John Piper) to minister to us. My co-worker (and fellow WA grad) led our prayer time this morning, sharing these thoughts that I found quite apropos to our ongoing discussion of setting aside distraction in favor of focusing on the glory of God.

John 15:4-5

"Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing."

Excerpt from Brothers, We Are Not Professionals by John Piper, pg. 55-56

"Oh, how we need to wake up to how much 'nothing' we spend our time doing. Apart from prayer, all our scurrying about, all our talking, all our study amounts to 'nothing.' For most of us the voice of self-reliance is ten times louder than the bell that tolls for the hours of prayer. The voice cries out: 'You must open the mail, you must make that call, you must write this sermon, you must prepare for the board meeting, you must go to the hospital.' But the bell tolls softly: 'Without Me you can do nothing.'

"Both our flesh and our culture scream against spending an hour on our knees beside a desk piled with papers. It is un-American to be so impractical as to devote oneself to prayer and meditation two hours a day. And sometimes I fear that our seminaries conform to this deadly pragmatism which stresses management and maneuvering as ways to get things done with a token mention of prayer and reliance on the Holy Spirit"

And from A.C. Dixon (qtd. pg. 56 of Piper)

"When we depend upon organizations, we get what organizations can do; when we depend upon education, we get what education can do; when we depend upon man, we get what man can do; but when we depend upon prayer, we get what God can do."

Back to the Basics: From the Eastern First-Century Church to the American Mega-Church

I have been an infrequent blogger this week because I have been immersed in staff meetings, all of which have only served to make me more passionate about devoting my life to ministry in the church in America. I have had so many different thoughts swirling around my head these days, and when I do not know where to begin, I turn to Scripture.

There are many questions that have arisen in the meetings I have been sitting in, two of which include the necessity of corporate worship (rather than having multiple, smaller, homogenous groupings) and benchmarks to determine the health of a church (specifically the process of making disciples). I will keep you in suspense as to what was decided in these meetings; that is really the topic for conversation rather than a blog. But as promised, I want to turn to Scripture.

Turn your attention to the second chapter of the book of Acts, starting at verse forty-two. As always, hop on the time machine of your mind so we can travel back in time. This time we’re not just spectators; we’re going to interact as modern-day church ministry leaders living in the world of the American mega-church. Pentecost has just occurred—the promised Spirit of God has just arrived—and salvation is spreading like wildfire. In fact, you just heard the news that in one day alone, three thousand people were saved (Acts 2:41)! You take out your pen and paper to jot down these notes. That sounds like a mega-church number, and you have to find out what method is being used!

You decide to slip into a Bible study that is taking place because you overheard something about the establishment of the first-century church. You speak with the disciples; they share their methods with you as Luke serves as secretary—recording it in his book for all future Christians to read. You look over Luke’s shoulder as he pens these words: “And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42). Four methods, plain and clear: teaching, fellowship, breaking of bread, prayer.

Intrigued by this “new” model of doing church, you want to test the results just to make sure it isn’t just the latest fad. You continue to read Luke’s words, “And awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. And all who believed were together and had all things in common” (v. 43-44). Wow. You pause a minute and clear your throat. You cannot remember the last time you saw an entire body of American believers leave a church service with a sense of sheer awe. Or the last time you had such unity in the church. That also baffles your mind.

You can’t peel your eyes away. You keep reading, “And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people” (vv. 45-47a). You scribble frantically on your pad of paper. Generosity. Unity in corporate worship. Thanksgiving and adoration. Having favor with all. Here are the benchmarks for discipleship that you’re discussing at your church, only these answers look a bit different! It doesn’t seem to be about numbers…

Before you can finish your thoughts, you see Luke writing the word numbers. He breaks your train of thought, and you read again. “And the Lord added to their numbers day by day…” (v. 47b). Luke re-dips his quill pen in the ink well. You look up, pleased. Aha! So it is about the numbers, you decide. Luke taps you on the elbow with a smile. You look down and keep reading the end of the sentence, “…those who were being saved” (v. 47c). Feeling humbled, you carefully write that part down. It wasn’t about the numbers in and of itself. It was about people encountering God with awe and finding salvation in Him.

End of Story.

Concluding Thoughts: So I might not have been able to hop aboard my imaginary time machine while I’ve been sitting in my board meetings lately, but I keep coming back to these verses with just as much enthusiasm as if I was there. We’ve been asking all the wrong questions, and as a result, coming to most of the wrong conclusions. Scripture makes it so simple. Four methods. Four benchmarks. One amazing result.*

*As a caveat: I do not mean to oversimplify Scripture. Of course the purpose and practice of the Church is much more complex than this and cannot really be broken down to only four methods or benchmarks. My point is that in today’s church, our ministries and programs and philosophies and structures tend to run off on tangents and go down trails that are neither inspired by Scripture nor honoring to God. In the mega-church, sometimes we get so tangled in a complex web of ministry that we need to untangle ourselves by scraping our plans and objectives completely and “getting back to the basics.” That is my cry here.

A Welcome Dissonance...For Now

"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith" (Philippians 3:7-9)

My sophomore year at Wheaton Academy, I chose these as my life verses. Throughout my life, I have heard God singing them over me. "This is Truth," He says. "Walk in it!"

Last night, I had dinner with a group of Christians. Sitting around the table was a pastor and his wife, a ministry leader and her husband, a wife who led a large mom's group in a church, her husband who served on the equivalent of an elder board, and a woman who will be leading a mission trip this year. This was a group of people that should challenge each other in their faith and encourage each other to live out the principles represented in Philippians 3:7-9.

Midway through the evening, I started to grow uncomfortable. The conversation turned to movies. The pastor's wife commented on how much she loved violence in movies, and encouraged the leader of the church mom's group to watch a movie that had a few "questionable scenes" in addition to its violent content. She warned, "It isn't a movie I would watch with your mom or your husband's mom for that matter, but you should see it!"

I squirmed in my chair, noticeably uncomfortable. At what age do we become old enough to watch "adult situations" in movies? At what age do we become too old to watch the same scenes? Is there an age bracket when we become immune to the power of sin? Is there an age when no longer have to judge the things of this world as "rubbish compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Jesus Christ our Lord?" My friends seem to think so.

I felt all alone in that moment, even though I was surrounded by fellow believers. I didn't agree with them or their opinions. We were singing different melodies, and in so doing, the resulting sound was dissonant and discordant. When we hear clashing notes, how our ears long to hear some sort of resolution! When we realize our friends are not going to change their tunes, we are tempted to change our own, just so we can hear something--anything--harmonious. But we know that would be wrong. We can't change our tune. We must live in the midst of dissonance and discordance, no matter how uncomfortable it is. That is what it means to lose all things for the sake of Christ. In singing a different melody, the one written by the Songwriter, I am in tune; the songs around me are out of tune.

But lest I become prideful and think that I have got it right and "those other people" are all wrong, let's re-examine Paul's words in Philippians 3:9: "...not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith." Righteousness does not come from me; I am sinful and depraved. Righteousness comes from God.

Taking it back to the song metaphor, the only One who can make dissonant melodies turn into beautiful harmonies is Jesus Christ. Only when He comes again--when every knee will bow and every tongue will confess--will we be able to take our fingers out of our ears and hear a beautiful song arising from every vocal chord. Only in that moment, will I, too, stop singing discordant tunes and harmonize with the Love Song for the Savior. I can't wait to hear that song!

Coexist?

For the past year or so, I've seen these bumper stickers pop up everywhere. White letters on a black background peacefully "suggest" that we simply "coexist."

Here's the key for decoding the message:

C- the symbol for Islam (those who call themselves Muslims)

O- the Wicca pentagram

E- the relativity formula for science

X- the symbol of Judaism (the star of David)

I- representing Buddhism (the "i" is dotted by the Karma Wheel)

S- the symbol for Taoism

T- the symbol for Christianity

What are people saying about this slogan? Check out some actual responses below:

Comment 1: "I bought it because I honestly believe that it's possible for many belief systems to coexist if they try and I think that more people need to see that."

Comment 2: "I put the sign on the rear bumper of my car.... The message is one I can subscribe to entirely, and I'm not worried that someone will take offense and ding my car over it."

Comment 3: "It makes me happy inside every time I look at this on the back of our car. Even my husband appreciates it!"

Brothers and sisters in Christ, let's go there ourselves. Put on your worldview lenses and strap on your seat belt. It's going to be a bumpy ride.

So, let's ask the same question. Why not just "coexist?" Is it possible for many belief systems to coexist if they try, as our first commentator suggests. Jesus says, "I am THE way and THE truth and THE life. No one comes to the Father EXCEPT through me" (John 14:6, emphasis mine). Now, I am not a Greek scholar, but I am quite certain that THE and EXCEPT are very exclusive terms. No, commentator one, we cannot "coexist if we try." The claims of Jesus do not allow for that.

What about the second comment? Does coexisting keep one religion from offending another? If the answer is yes, then we have to take the "t," representing the Christian cross, out of the formula. After all, "we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles" (I Corinthians 1:23). This is the "offense" of the gospel. The gospel illuminates our sinfulness and declares that Jesus Christ is Lord! Not Buddha. Not Mohamed. Not man's rational powers or intellectual superiority.

That leaves us with the third commentator. The message makes her happy; how can that be bad? It makes her happy because she does not have to deal with the hard truth that there is a (as in one) God. If there is a God, we are accountable to Him. If we are accountable to God, we can't live like we are God. And to many, that's a tragedy.

I have been very cynical and sarcastic and argumentative in this post. That only comes after great sorrow that my God (THE God) is being reduced to a "t" in a formula created by those whom He created. But I will not end cynical, because I think the third commentator has a point; it's simply misguided. I think it is about our joy. I think worshipping God as the Supreme Being brings us exceeding joy. Psalm 16:11 reads, "You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand." Unless we know God, we cannot even begin to know joy.

I'm very dissatisfied with this post because the question of the supremacy and exclusivity of Jesus Christ deserves a much deeper reflection than I can give it in a brief post. Check out the books of authors who have devoted their lives to this study, and who can articulate themselves much better than I can. Check out Jesus Among Other gods by Ravi Zacharias or Seeing and Savoring Jesus Christ by John Piper. And whenever you see the "coexist" slogan, pray that the person bearing it will have his or her eyes opened to the supremacy and exclusivity of Jesus Christ and experience everlasting joy!

Sons of Korah: Oh, to be a Gatekeeper!

Psalm 84, quoted in part on yesterday's post, has inspired me. I felt compelled to mediate on it this morning during my time in God's Presence, and I was in awe over God's lesson for me!

Think back to those moments when you have such an intense longing to commune with God, to worship Him, and to taste His goodness that it creates a physiological response within you. In those moments, I feel like my words are so inadequate to express my love for my Savior. The echoes of my heart have to suffice. I tend to think that is how the Sons of Korah felt when penning Psalm 84. Their thoughts to God are deeply intimate and personal, but we get the privilege of "over-hearing" them.

I would like to re-quote verses 1-2 and 10 here: "How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness."

It's time for a biblical history adventure to unravel a mystery! The Sons of Korah. Who are they, and what inspired the deep emotions of this Psalm (and at least 25 others by them)? The clue lies in I Chronicles 9 (I feel like I am in the movie National Treasure--or should I say Kingdom Treasure--Bible style!). :) The Sons of Korah "were in charge of the work of the service, keepers of the thresholds of the tent, as their fathers had been in charge of the camp of the Lord, keepers of the entrance" (I Chron. 9:19). They also were "over the chambers and the treasures of the house of God. And they lodged around the house of God, for on them lay the duty of watching, and they had charge of opening it every morning" (I Chron. 9:26-27).

Let's interpret the answer to our clue. The Sons of Korah stood outside of the tent; they were gatekeepers. Day after day they showed up to work, opened the house of God, and then stood there...watching. Travel back in time. What do you think this job would have been like? I'll return to that in a minute.

Hop on our time machine again. This time were going back another generation to their fathers. As far as I can figure it in my research, Korah descended from the Kohath. What was the Kohathites' job? The answer is revealed in Numbers 4, our second clue. They were in charge of the holy vessels of the tabernacle, including the ark, and carried these items (though forbidden to touch them or even look upon them). In other words, they were in contact with the items where God chose to make His dwelling. Can you imagine that? I'm sure they were saying, "This is AWESOME! God was just here! And now we're in charge of the vessels that represent His Presence!"

Well at least you would think that would be their reaction. Hop aboard the time machine again. We're going forward to Numbers 16. The green eye of jealousy creeps onto the scene, and it is ugly! The Kohathites take their gaze off of the glory of God and look at Moses and Aaron. They start thinking, "What makes Moses and Aaron so special? Why do they act holier than thou?" "All in the congregation are holy," they cry (Num. 16:3). Moses tries to bring their gaze back to God, saying, "In the morning the Lord will show who is His, and who is holy, and will bring him near to Him" (v. 5). But they refused to show up. They had an opportunity to be in the Presence of God, and they said no! (And wasn't that the issue in the first place?)

This is an amazing story. Immerse yourself in it. Can you feel Moses' heart break as he sees where the Kohathites are headed? The great tragedy is reflected in Moses' plea (I can almost visualize the expression of sorrow and earnestness on his face), "Is it too small a thing for you that the God of Israel has separated you from the congregation of Israel, to bring you near to Himself, to do service in the tabernacle of the Lord and to stand before the congregation to minister to them, and that He has brought you near Him, and all your brothers the sons of Levi with you? And would you seek the priesthood also?" (vv. 9-10). Let's turn our eyes away from the scene unfolding before us as the ground opens its mouth and swallows them alive (vv. 27-35). The song of mourning begins.

But the mourning ceases, for Numbers 26:11, as short as it is, sweetly sings the song of redemption. "The sons of Korah did not die." Do you hear THAT?!? That is a song of second chances and the redeeming of the next generation--a remnant for God's glory!

Hop back in the time machine one last time. We're ready to discover one of the gold nuggets of Scripture! Back to my question a few paragraphs back, "What would it have been like to be a gatekeeper for the House of the Lord?" The Sons of Korah refused to repeat history! They worshipped. And I mean WORSHIPPED! Now would be a good time to re-read Psalm 84! A gatekeeper? Yes, a gatekeeper!!! They're working for GOD!!

Friends, and I write this with deep emotion, we don't have to see veiled tabernacle objects, look at the stars, and dream about what it would be like to be holy enough to be chosen to enter the Presence of God. We don't have to stand as gatekeepers, looking at the High Priest enter and exit, and find our joy in that as an end in itself. WE GET TO ENTER GOD'S PRESENCE--THE MOST HOLY OF HOLIES--EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY! (Yes, that required all caps.) Why am I, and I am speaking to myself here, not writing sentiments that are overflowing with even more love and devotion and passion for God than a gatekeeper?!? Why do I find more entertainment in "fill in the blank" than knowing and loving and treasuring Jesus Christ for now and all of eternity? He chose me. He chose ME! And in this moment, I want to publicly celebrate. I have found the gold! Mystery solved!

In the Mundane, I Saw God

It was in the mundane yesterday that I saw God. And it came through my interaction with a 13-year-old cat.

Every time my family and I go out of town for a period of time, it is quite traumatic for my old cat. He mopes around the house when we are gone, eating little, sleeping often, and hiding from the person who comes to interact with him. To Mittens, being with a stranger is not the same as being with us. He enters complete feline depression.

When we arrive home, it is quite the opposite story. He meows incessantly until we pick him up. Once he is in our arms, he purrs non-stop. If we put him down, he starts meowing again. We try to ignore him when we're busy, but he is persistent. He craves our attention.

This was the case when we arrived home from Minnesota this weekend. As I held the purring mass in my arms, God spoke to me. I realized how despicable it is that a four-legged feline expresses a deeper longing to be in my presence than I express to be in the Presence of God. Do I hunger so intensely to be with God that I am completely dissatisfied if I miss out on that time? And when I spend thirty minutes or even an hour in His presence, do I walk away satisfied that I got my "God fix" for the morning, or does it make me thirst all the more to continuously commune with Him, and keep me in an attitude of prayer and thanksgiving and listening throughout the day?

As I was holding my cat in my lap, I looked up on my bedroom wall, and God spoke to me through His Word. Years ago, I placed a dry erase board on my wall on which I wrote a Scripture passage. I am so accustomed to seeing it hang there, I don't even notice it anymore. But yesterday I saw it afresh once again. On it is printed Psalm 84:1-2: "How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God."

Oh Lord Almighty, let me not be content until I can sing in one accord with the Psalmist that "my soul yearns, even faints" for your courts. Teach me what it means to have "my heart and my flesh," crying out to You. In the mundane, speak to me. I have everything to learn from You; You have everything to teach to me. Thank you that in the mundane, we can see God. Our vision of You is truly one of beauty.

Genuine Nature

Matthew 23:27

"Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs, which outwardly appear beautiful, but within are full of dead people’s bones and all uncleanness."

My sophomore year of college, I was given the writing assignment to describe a person only by describing his/her environment. I came across the product of that assignment the other day, and I decided to re-post it here. The symbolism is clear. As Christians, may we never attempt to hide from God, but allow Him to refine us, transforming our fickle hearts and feeble minds until they purely reflect His infinite beauty!

The Great White Mansion on Royal Circle

The exquisite beauty of the majestic, antique mansion on Royal Circle was breathtaking. It rested upon a lush green field, blanketed with tiny purple and white flowers. The architecture of the solid white residence resembled Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, with rows of stately columns lining the front porch. Even the dog’s house in the back yard was a miniature replica of her master’s mansion, and a sign hung on the front door which read, “Fofo’s Abode.” The entire estate was a surreal portraiture of extravagance and luxury.


The inside of the mansion was even more immaculate than the outside. The same white pillars that supported the front porch lined the hallway inside the house. Crystal chandeliers graced the ceiling of the parlor. Pure etched gold candelabras stood in each corner of the room. The princely furniture, extensive silken draperies, and china tea sets intricately displayed throughout the room were marigold and robin’s egg blue. The library held the sculpted busts of John Paul Jones, Robert Fulton, and the mythological goddess, Diana. There were also historic portraits of past presidents that proudly hung on the walls. The marble floors were clean enough for a person to eat off of, yet no one would dare to even walk on them. From one room to the next, it was a sterile environment devoid of any of the monstrosities of life. It was perfection.

The most intriguing room was padlocked shut. It offered a more intimate view; a peephole into the soul. The steps behind the door led down to the basement. The basement was a studio of sorts. Paint was generously and randomly splattered on canvasses. The artist mixed blue, green, yellow, orange, red, purple, and brown to create a black, bubbled, murky mess. The room was cluttered with broken furniture duct taped together and paint smocks lined the floors. A simple cot was stuffed in the corner of the basement with the sheets and blanket sloppily strewn on top. A great white poster hung on the wall that simply read “genuine nature” in bold black letters. The scene was a stark contrast to the sheer elegance of the upstairs. What had happened to the impeccable tastes of the master craftsman that adorned the rest of the mansion? The outside was garnished with glories untold and the inside was exquisitely detailed, but the basement? The basement revealed the dark corners of the house, the “genuine nature” hidden away by the owner of the great white mansion on Royal Circle.

The Sacrifice of Praise

"For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come. Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name" (Hebrews 13:14-15).

Last year, I accepted the job as Short-Term Mission Coordinator at my church. One of the "perks" of my job is that I get to go on one of our eight short-term trips every year. This summer, God called me to Turkey (the least evangelized nation in the world) and He paved the way for my parents to join me. This would be our first family mission trip, and I was thrilled!

A week into our trip, the thrill was replaced with terror, confusion, heartache, and loneliness. My mom became deathly ill from a disease that was undiagnosed at the time. Overnight, she went from dynamically ministering in a country that is closed to the gospel; to slipping into a terrifying, delirious state that was the antithesis of her personality; to falling into a coma. I had never felt more alone in my entire life.

At the very early phase of my mom's illness, before she was admitted to the hospital, my dad stayed with her at the hotel since she was showing signs of dehydration and delirium. But God told me to continue on with the ministry that I was doing in Turkey. Everything within me wanted to stay back with my mom, but I had to obey God's voice. I left the hotel in Europe and traveled to Asia where I taught English courses at a church. The entire time my mind was on my mom, my silent prayers were focused on her health, and the few hours of teaching felt like days.

Once the time was over, I was anxious to return to the hotel in Europe. Instead, one of my students invited me to have lunch with her. Though I was filled with anxiety, I decided to go, and God turned my anxiety into prayer. After lunch, my student invited me to a prayer meeting in the little Turkish church at which I taught. Once again, everything within me wanted to take the ferry back to Europe to check on my mom, but God told me to go. I continued in intercessory prayer.

At that prayer meeting, a man who was more charismatic in his expression of worship said, "This is the word of the Lord." I thought it was rather odd since no Scripture passage was being read at the time. Then he said, "This song is the word of the Lord." Immediately after, we began singing, "Come, Now is the Time to Worship." I have theological issues with some of the lyrics, but God so clearly and remarkably spoke to me through the first few measures of the song. He said, "Come, now is the time to worship. It is not time worry. It is not even time to intercede on your mom's behalf. I want nothing at this moment except worship."

I thought, "God, are you kidding me?!? I thought that I had made a giant leap of faith in moving from worry to intercessory prayer. And now you want me to give up interceding on behalf of my mom to worship you?!?" But such peace filled my soul that I had to worship. No other response would have been appropriate.

I am not against intercessory prayer. In fact, we are commanded to intercede on behalf of each other. But God wanted more from me in that moment. Little did I know my mom would fall into a coma that evening. Little did I know that I would be stuck in Turkey for nearly a month. Little did I know that we would often be forbidden to see my mom, and not know whether or not she was dead or alive when we arrived at the hospital in the morning. And little did I know how God was working. When God told me to stop interceding and start worshipping, He was raising up 2,000 pastors at a conference in Minnesota to intercede on my mom's behalf. When the news traveled from Turkey to this conference, they called off their agenda and prayed unceasingly for my mom.

This is the sacrifice of praise written about in Hebrews. It's the fruit of lips that acknowledge the name of God, even when our world is unraveling. I believe that it is a gift that you and I are not capable of in our own power. I know that my true character is frail, weak, anxious, and more lazy in prayer than faithful. "But by the grace of God." May all praise, glory, and honor go to the only One who is worthy!

Giving Thanks

As I woke up this morning, before getting out of bed, I began to pray. In a few hours, my brother and I would be picking up his friend Jamal to spend Thanksgiving with our family. Jamal is a Somalian Muslim man whom my brother met at the Global Market in Minneapolis. Soon after we learned that we would be spending Thanksgiving in Minnesota, and that Jamal would be joining our family, we've been praying that he would encounter Jesus Christ, the one and true God, through our interaction with him. I also prayed for Pam, my administrative assistant. Her family invited two of her unsaved neighbors to spend Thanksgiving with them. Then I thought of Sue Ann, a colleague of mine who lost her husband a few months ago to a very rare disease. This would be her first Thanksgiving without him, and she expressed to me how difficult it would be. Names flooded my mind, and I prayed.

All of these were "good" requests to bring before the Lord, from the salvation of souls to peace and comfort for those who are hurting. But one thing was devoid from my early morning prayers, and that was giving thanks--praising God for both His gifts and His character. You would think that this would be the first thought on my mind as I woke up this morning especially, but it took a while before I heard God gently reminding me to praise Him from whom all blessings flow.

Psalm 95:1-3 reads, "Oh come, let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation! Let us come into his presence with thanksgiving; let us make a joyful noise to him with songs of praise! For the Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods." The Psalmist's thanksgiving to God always poured forth from an understanding of the character of God. If I am lacking in gratitude, I am lacking in a vision of who God is. In these verses, the Psalmist says that God is a "great God...a great King." Do I truly see God as great? Or have I become rather comfortable with Him, taking advantage of our "friendship" and not standing in awe of His holiness? Do I understand the implications that He is THE King above ALL gods? The extent of His sovereignty is both mind-boggling and comforting. This is the God whom we serve, who called us out of our life (or should I say death) of sinfulness, and into the inexpressible glory of His presence. So tonight I am going back to the basics. I am going to thank God once again that He is holy and sovereign, that He is the King of the nations, and that He has given me the gift of eternal salvation. Praise be to God!

For Our Joy

My friend Jackie and I shared a meal together at Bennigans tonight. Throughout the evening, our waiter seemed particularly attentive. There was something on his mind that he wasn't voicing. Finally, he looked at me and burst out, "I think I've seen you here before. And every time you come in, you're always smiling! Whatever you're taking, I want it!"

In John 15:9-11, Jesus states, "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in His love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete." Jesus is the source of our joy. Without Christ, our joy is incomplete. We may be happy. Anything material blessing can bring happiness, but only Christ can bring complete joy. If we are Christians and if the Holy Spirit is reigning in us, then we must be characterized by our joy.

Do you realize that our joy is the result of glorifying God? That boggles my mind. All that we have is from God and for God. He gives us the ability to give Himself praise. We are simply vessels; not the source. And while we are not the source, WE receive the blessing--joy! In his devotional booklet For Your Joy, John Piper writes, "...we were made to experience full and lasting happiness from seeing and savoring the glory of God. If our best joy comes from something less, we are idolaters and God is dishonored. He created us in such a way that his glory is displayed through our joy in it. The gospel of Christ is the good news that at the cost of his Son's life, God has done everything necessary to enthrall us with what will make us eternally and ever-increasingly happy, namely, himself."

Tonight, I resolved to never let a moment pass to share about my faith when God opens up the door. And for the past few months, God has opened many doors! Too often, I am afraid that I will offend the name of Christ when I speak out--that I will say the wrong thing and make Christ look ridiculous because of my feeble answer. I am afraid that I will not articulate the gospel message with the clarity and beauty it deserves. I am afraid that I will look foolish for believing in a God that I cannot see or hear or touch, and that I will not be able to explain the reason for my faith. I so quickly forget that the only reason I exist is to declare the gospel!

Be quick to tell those around you about your joy. Point them to the Source. Seek out moments when Christ can enter your conversations. And "may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit" (Rom. 15:13).

Identity

A friend of mine polled a group of people, asking, "What is the most difficult issue facing teens today?" How would you answer this question? Do drugs come to mind? What about alcohol? Sex? Cutting? Suicide? Body image?

What if these issues were only the surface and at the heart lied something deeper? What if the deeper issue was a search for identity? And what if it wasn't an issue that only teens were facing?

I believe that we spend our entire lives searching for our identity, whether or not we are aware of it. We look for it in popularity, achievement, wealth, status, beauty, image, and intelligence. Psychologists say teenagers struggle with identity, because it is most pronounced in them in destructive means. But what if our adult lust for achievement or status is just as detrimental, only culturally acceptable?

As Christians, we know that our identity is already defined, but we still search. Our culture tells us to search. Our sin nature tells us to search. And somehow we buy the lie that all of this...stuff...is more pleasurable than God.

I am fascinated by all of the places in Scripture where God changes someone's name. It happened when Abram became Abraham, Jacob became Israel, and Simon became Peter. When God changes someone's name, it is more than an issue of semantics. It is an issue of identity. God sees who He wants a person to become for His glory, and He changes their identity. It's as if He is telling them to stop searching, or perhaps to change the direction of their search. Their identity has been found!

Where does that leave you and me? In Revelation 2:17, Jesus says, "To the one who conquers, I will give some of the hidden manna, and I will give him a white stone with a new name written on the stone that no one knows except the one who receives it." I imagine Jesus handing me a stone with my name--my identity--written on it. And when I see it, I will have an "Aha!" moment. At that moment, everything in my life will make sense. My questions will be answered. My search will be over. I will discover that my identity has been there all along, held securely in the palm of Christ's hand. I will remember the times that God gave me the strength to reject the name that the world offered me on the stones of success and prosperity and external value. And as I look back up from my stone--my identity--into the eyes of Jesus Christ, I will exclaim, "It was all worth it!"

Feelings or Reality?

Tonight I am thinking about feelings. I feel joy. I feel peace. I feel contentment. I feel like there is more than this existence--that there is a Being who transcends us in a world that is really real--a world beyond us and above us that calls out to us to live and make our dwelling there.

And then I think these are not feelings at all. What is a "feeling," really? I feel cold, but I am not cold. Cold is not my essence; it is simply a present, passing state until I find an outside source to bring warmth. I feel love, but even this is conditional. Change the conditions and anger or resentment can too soon replace that love. I feel joy, but take away its source, and I'm left feeling empty. And alone.

So maybe what I'm feeling tonight isn't "feeling" at all. Maybe I'm simply in tune with Reality. Whether or not I feel it, I have joy. Whether or not I can perceive it, peace is there. Regardless of my circumstances, contentment is.

Maybe we spend a lifetime searching for a feeling and chasing the wind, when an unshakable reality surrounds us, penetrates the very fiber of our beings, and simply....is. Maybe we are too afraid to relinquish control and allow ourselves to just be--to just dwell in Reality and realize that there is so much more to this life. Just maybe.

Intense Longing

As I woke up this morning, I had an intense longing for God. Have you ever experienced those moments, when everything within you wants nothing less than to be in the presence of God? Have you ever felt that if you were given the entire world, your hunger would not be satisfied--that only God is sufficient?

It's very seldom that my longings for God reach that intensity, but this morning, in the quietness of my room, my soul was crying out for Him. In that moment, God filled my heart with a prayer, and I wrote it out. It expresses the deep ache within me for Him alone.

I wrote and prayed this prayer today, and if you're in Come Thirsty, I prayed this over you, too, this morning. I prayed for each of you by name. Here's what was offered up on your behalf this morning:

O Lord,
This day, as I awaken from my peaceful slumber and rise from my bed, I will be bombarded with messages and images that compete for my attention and affection.
And the subtle and sweet lullabies they sing, though infused with dissonance and ringing out in disharmony, will begin to sound sweet in my ear.
And I will be tempted to listen, accept, and eventually treasure their message.

Let my ears not fail to hear the sound of Your still, small voice, crying above the chaotic noise below, "Come seek Me. Come find Me. Come treasure Me."
When I am beckoned to find my deepest joy and my highest hope in You, let me run towards that beautiful melody and join in its chorus until my voice is united with Yours in glorious harmony.

Keep my heart exceedingly discontent dwelling in the garbage dump, when paradise is just around the bend, beckoning me to enter, and to sing of my sweet salvation for all of eternity.

Uncensored Thoughts: Pondering Life, Death, Suffering, and the Glory of God

She passed away today. Her name was Mrs. Riebock, and she was my high school Bible teacher. But she was not just our teacher; she was our Wheaton Academy Class of 2000 sponsor. She walked with us through our awkward freshman year in which we were all terrified to be at a new school, and proudly applauded for us at our graduation as we left as confident seniors, ready to take on college life. She fearlessly led us through homecomings, service projects, and fundraisers each year with great and unparalleled enthusiasm. She brought life to our Bible classes and made it exciting to study the things of the Lord. She was the most eclectic woman I had ever met. Look at the murals painted on her classroom wall in every imaginable bold color under heaven, and you will be given a glimpse into her personality. And who can forget her circumcision screams "heard 'round the campus" or her "whooping stick" to keep us students in line?

My sweetest memory of Mrs. Riebock did not come when I was her student, but when I was her colleague. While working on my Masters degree last fall, I substitute taught at Wheaton Academy. One day I received a call asking me to sub for Mrs. Riebock. I was thrilled and immediately accepted! When I entered her classroom, I was a bit surprised to find her sitting at her desk--not at all absent--and she was equally surprised to see me.

"What are you doing here?" she would ask.

I responded, "Substitute teaching for you, I thought!"

Apparently the office had made a mistake, and I didn't need to be there. I walked to the door to exit the classroom, but she stopped me, saying, "No! You came all the way out here to teach, and you want your money. Stay here, and I'll go out so you can get paid." Mrs. Riebock went out of the way to accommodate her "substitute," even though she didn't need me. That day, Mrs. Riebock cared more about blessing her former student than sticking with her own agenda. She reflected the love and servant's heart of Jesus Christ, and through that action, I was blessed.

I have an "uncensored confession," as I like to call it in our Come Thirsty Sunday school class. I don't begin to understand the ways of an incomprehensible God. I don't know why God chose to spare my mom's life when thousands of people got on their knees to pray for her healing after she was in a coma in Turkey, but take the life of Mrs. Riebock when thousand of people were on their knees praying for her healing when she was going through a liver transplant in America. I don't understand why my classmate Quinn, Mrs. Riebock's youngest daughter, lost her dad in June, and three months later lost her mom. I just don't have all of the answers.

But there are some things I do know. I know that God is good. And I don't just mean that He is somewhat nice and typically kind. I mean that His very essence is good; there is no good apart from Him. I know that God is love. His love is unconditional. I know that God is for us. If we are His children, God is not 9% or 99% for us; He is 100% for us at all times. And I know that Jesus is the way and the truth and the life. There is no life apart from the Christian life, because there is no God apart from Jesus Christ. His ways are incomprehensible, but they are trustworthy. Yes, God is trustworthy and faithful and true. I live and breathe these truths.

I went to hear John Piper speak at Wheaton today. He talked all about suffering. My friend left depressed; I left invigorated. He spoke difficult words. Words that I want to silence with all my being. But words that my soul so longs to hear that I can almost physically feel the echo of its longing deep within me. He said that our suffering is an essential part of our Christian existence. Our suffering should make Christ look great. We might be "sorrowful," but we are to be "always rejoicing" (II Cor. 6:10). Our lives should testify that Christ is more precious to us than everything in the universe, including father or mother, brother or sister, career or unemployment, ambitions or failures, singleness or marriage, children or no children. Christ is more precious. Period.

Furthermore, nothing will happen to us apart from God's will. Do you really think that these events surprise God? God knows, and God is good. We must embrace suffering, hardship, risk, and danger while on earth for the relief of suffering in eternity. "We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God" (Acts 14:22). In Romans, Paul states, "Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in His glory" (Rom. 8:17).

So the ultimate question is not whether we will suffer. We must suffer. The question is, "Will Christ be enough when we endure suffering?"

What's Your Calling?

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. For those God foreknew He also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those He predestined, He also called; those He called, He also justified; those He justified, He also glorified.” Romans 8:28-30, NIV

From dew on wool fleeces to geometric shapes in the clouds, too often Christians look in all of the wrong places for a revelatory sign of God’s calling upon their lives. But in Scripture, calling is much more paradoxical. It is more clear and precise and definitive, revealed in and through the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And yet, the ancient biblical stories inform us that calling is more supernatural and mysterious as God speaks not through the wind or the earthquake or the fire, but through a whisper (I Kgs. 19:11-12). It is to this magnificent God with a magnanimous call that Christians must respond in a manner that is “worthy of the calling [they] have received” (Eph. 4:1).

In The Call, Os Guinness writes, “…calling is the truth that God calls us to himself so decisively that everything we are, everything we do, and everything we have is invested with a special devotion and dynamism lived out as a response to his summons and service.”[1] Guinness differentiates between the primary and secondary calls. “Our primary calling as followers of Christ is by him, to him, and for him.”[2] Calling begins with God. Romans 8:28-30 (quoted above) lays out the order of calling: God predestines His chosen, calls them to Himself, then justifies and glorifies His loved ones. God chooses; the Christian responds. It is just as impossible for Christians to call themselves as it is for Christians to predestine, justify, or glorify themselves. Guinness writes, “We cannot find God without God. We cannot reach God without God. We cannot satisfy God without God….”[3] Calling always starts with God.
Christians have the responsibility of responding to God’s call. This response to primary calling comes through loving Christ with one’s “heart, soul, strength, and mind,” out of which must flow “love [for one’s] neighbor as [oneself]” (Lk. 10:27). It is precisely because of the need to respond to God that Paul writes, “With this in mind, we constantly pray for you, that our God may count you worthy of his calling, and that by his power he may fulfill every good purpose of yours and every act prompted by your faith. We pray this so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him…” (I Thess. 1:11-12a). It is through the grace of God that the Christian can embody his or her calling. Apart from the active work of the Holy Spirit, the Christian’s work would be ineffectual and unworthy of the high calling which he or she has received. Only through the power of Christ will the Christian’s calling become a reality. And when this calling is lived out in a worthy manner, the Lord will be glorified.

In addition to a general call, the believer is also given a personal, specific call, or “secondary call,” to borrow the language of Guinness. “Our secondary calling, considering who God is as sovereign, is that everyone, everywhere, and in everything should think, speak, live, and act entirely for him.”[4] Our primary calling is shared with all believers—each person is called to glorify God and love Him completely. Our secondary calling is specific to each individual’s life, based on his or her spiritual gifts, talents, and interests. In The Purpose-Driven Life, author Rick Warren encourages Christians to identify their calling by considering their S.H.A.P.E., an acrostic for “spiritual gifts, heart, abilities, personality, and experiences.”[5] By identifying the areas in which God has gifted one, the passions which He has instilled in one, and the experiences which have served to shape one, calling may be further clarified.

So what is your calling? What are the gifts and talents that God has interwoven into the fabric of your life? Where does your greatest passion meet a need in the world?

Live a life worthy of your calling!

[1] Guinness, Oz. The Call: Finding and Fulfilling the Central Purpose of Your Life. Nashville: W Publishing Group, 2003. p. 4.
[2] Ibid. p. 31.
[3] Ibid. p. 13.
[4] Ibid. p. 31
[5] Warren, Rick. The Purpose Driven Life. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2002. p. 236.

Spiritual Garment

Here is a sample entry from the Turkey Prayer Guide:

Spiritual Garment

by Jenny Schulenburg

They come in satin, silk, and cotton. Some drape over the body; others cover only the face. Women express their personal style by choosing various colors and patterns. They are sold outside of mosques, and worn as an expression of honor and respect. They are veils.

It was not long before arriving in Istanbul that I noticed veiled women strolling down the streets. When our mission team hosted an American Folk Song Sing-Along in a park near our hotel, I had the opportunity to interact with two young, veiled Muslim women. At first, we all felt awkward. What could we possibly have in common to converse about? So we sang together, and I discovered that they had beautiful voices. I shared with them my involvement in music, and any awkward feelings between us quickly dissipated. Through our conversation, I discovered that one of my new friends was studying to be a teacher—my same profession. Both of them were within a few years of my age. Gradually, I no longer saw them first and foremost as “veiled Muslim women,” but image bearers of their Creator.

All of sudden, my new friends and I seemed a lot more similar than dissimilar. I, too, once walked this earth wearing a veil. My veil may not have been a fabric head covering, but it was woven together by own sinfulness and it covered the eyes of my soul from seeing the truth of God. Thankfully, God is omniscient, and He peered deep into my soul, seeing past the veil that I tried to hide under. He removed my shroud of darkness and clothed me with His garment of salvation. The prophet Isaiah writes, “I delight greatly in the LORD; my soul rejoices in my God. For He has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.”

After that evening, as I walked through the streets of Istanbul and encountered veiled women, I began praying that God would remove the veil behind which they hide themselves and cover them with His righteousness, just as He had covered me.

PRAY

Pray for Muslim women to trade their man-made veils for “robes of righteousness.”

Pray that God will continue to build bridges between Muslim and Christian women so that spiritual conversations can take place.

In the Midst of the Storm: Reflections on My Day

"A tornado touched down in Dekalb, and it's headed your way. Don't leave work." That was the advice of the person on the other end of the phone line. I hung up my cell phone and did what most sensible people do: write off the person's warning as an exaggeration, grab my keys, and hop in the car. A few minutes later, I realized I had made a mistake.


As I headed home from First Baptist and drove through Geneva and Saint Charles, I noticed clusters of people on the street pointing at the sky, staring up at the clouds in fearful amusement. Like a contagious yawn that is subconsciously mimicked, I too was compelled to peer at the storm clouds through my rear view window. They were dark and ominous, but aren't all thunderstorms?


Then they crept in closer, stealthily moving towards my car, silent, powerful, mysterious. All of a sudden, I grew a little concerned. I was stuck at a red light. The light turns green, I rush to the next block, and get stuck by another red light. This is not my day.

All of a sudden, the sky opens and rain pours down, bursting forth like Niagara Falls. I watch as the crossing guard, who had patiently been waiting for school children on the corner of the block, took off running. Leaves began swirling around me, and there was no rhyme or reason to the the pattern of the rainfall. It was circular, but straight-forward, pouring down yet blowing upwards. It was coming, and I couldn't make it home.
I was at the corner of Route 25 and Illinois Street, so I headed for the St. Charles Public Library--the closest shelter from the storm. The torrential rainfall continued, and as I threw open my car door, I fully expected my car to become instantly flooded. I ran inside, looking like I had just come out of the shower, fully clothed. I tried to apologize to one of the head librarians, but he cut me off, saying, "Get downstairs now! There is a tornado and we have a storm shelter."

The basement storm shelter, which was more often used as a general meeting room, was crowded with library patrons who had been browsing through books moments earlier, and they all looked at me--the dripping wet outsider--with shock and amusement, handing me towels to dry off. I stood in the corner, slightly embarrassed, and waited until they gave the clearance to leave.


After we were given permission to leave, I ran up the stairs to get back to my car, head home, and put on warm, dry clothes. But as we stood outside and surveyed the damage, we noticed that a tree had fallen on two cars of employees of the library, and lightening continued to strike down as the thunder boomed. Many patrons were frightened back indoors once more.


Looking up at the sky, I smiled, thinking about Jesus in the storm as recorded in the gospels. Jesus was asleep in a boat with His disciples when a storm rolled in. Water is pouring into the boat, but Jesus never stirs. The disciples frantically cry out to Jesus to wake up and save them, for surely they would drown! Jesus' rebukes the wind and the waves, and they quiet down. As I looked at the storm today, I thought about the God who created it and controlled it. God was displaying His power, and I worshipped Him as a result.

But the guy standing next to me had a different response. He swore at the storm, then struck up a conversation with me about "Mother Nature." He proceeded to tell me astounding stories about all of the tornadoes he had been in where he has nearly escaped with his life, and included in his stories some of his...well...vices. I stood there listening, in half disbelief that he could go through all of this and live!

In that moment, the Holy Spirit nudged me to tell this man about God, but all I wanted to do was run. I'm terrible at evangelism. Discipleship I love, but telling people about Christ, especially total strangers? That terrifies me! I silently prayed for strength, whining all the while that I really didn't want to do this. After the man finished all of his stories, I said to him, "God must have an amazing plan for your life to spare you all of those times! He's got YOUR attention!"

His tone changed, and he began recounting a different story. This time, he told me about a time when he was terrified in the midst of the storm, all alone, driving in utter and complete darkness, in the middle of nowhere. He had no other recourse other than to call out to God--a God he most definitely did not know personally--to open the sky, allowing light to pour forth to guide Him home. God answered his prayer. The heavens opened, but this time beams of light broke forth, not rain. God led him home. God calmed the storm.


What storm is in your life right now? Maybe it is a physical storm like the one many of us experienced today. Maybe it is a relational storm. It may be a spiritual storm. Perhaps someone you love is clinging on for life with little hope for survival. Or perhaps someone you love is clinging on to something that might take his or her life when survival is simply a matter of saying "no" to an idol or to a habitual sin. Whatever your storm, know that Jesus is in the boat with you. He is at perfect peace, and He offers perfect peace. Jesus is not oblivious to the storm. He knows it is there, but He also knows that He is there. And that is all you need. So cling to Jesus, look up at the sky, and praise Him for His sovereignty even in the midst of the storm.

Single-Minded?

Tonight I went to Willow Creek to hear Randy Frazee speak on the topic of being "single-minded." He spoke out of I Corinthians 7:1-24. In these verses, Paul exhorts his readers to "remain single as I (Paul) am." Paul continues, "But each has his own gift from God, one of one kind and one of another" (v. 7).

To get married, or not to get married? That is the question. I interact with so many young adults who grapple with this question, questioning whether it is God's will for them to marry a given individual or doubting whether God has marriage for them at all. There are a plethora of issues that young adults face, and finding one's life partner is one major "rite of passage" that is near the top of the list.

In this passage, Paul talks about the "gift of singleness." Did you know that singleness is a spiritual gift? But it's not one that often appears on spiritual gift tests next to the gifts of teaching or mercy or administration. Nevertheless, Paul clearly defines it as a gift--or perhaps special calling from God.

So how do you know if you have the gift of singleness or not? Here are two litmus tests that may be helpful for you.

1. Do you envision yourself doing great things for God as a single person that you feel would be stifled if you were married? Are you perfectly content in your life as a single person?

2. Are you able to live as a single person without being "aflame with passion," as Paul describes in verse 9? God's command is that we live sexually pure lives as single individuals. If we feel that we will be overtaken with our own lustful, sexual desires, Paul says it is better to marry than to sin in our singleness.

What was the result of your litmus tests? Regardless, there are a couple of principles to keep in mind.

First, the gift of singleness is not necessarily permanent. Come Thirsty, the fact that none of you are married means that our Sovereign God has given you this gift at least for this season in your life. That does not mean, however, that it is a permanent gift that you have been given.

Second, because you are called to singleness in this period of your life--whether it be for one more day or for the rest of your life--you are called to use your time to "seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness" (Mt. 6:33). What an awesome privilege we have as single adults to be "anxious about the things of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit" (I Cor. 7:34b)!

So here are suggestions as you are in the waiting room, waiting on God's timing and on His will to be accomplished in your life.

1. Seek your highest joy in being used for the glory of God. Find your contentment here.

2. If you are battling relational loneliness, find a place to serve. There are many opportunities to serve at First Baptist (e-mail me for suggestions in multiple areas of service!!), or get involved in serving the community and shining the light of Christ to a lost and dying world!

3. Whenever you find yourself thinking about or longing for your future spouse, turn your heart's cry into a prayer. God knows your thoughts; why not voice them to the One who is sovereign and deeply loves you? Pray for your future spouse's moral integrity, sexual purity, spiritual character, etc. But begin and end your prayer by declaring your love for your Savior first and foremost and acknowledging the truth that He alone is sufficient. He is truly all you need. Do you believe that?

Might you find contentment of heart and unity in purpose as you are single-minded for the glory of God!

Welcome to the Adventure! Are you ready?

This is the report I gave at our Turkey Luncheon. It is only a tiny drop in the ocean of lessons I learned, but my desire is that you are encouraged by what God did in and through my life as I journey down this road we call faith.

Two days into our trip, I hesitantly walked into my mom’s room, and as I spoke to her, the words that cautiously poured off my lips were “I’m not even sure that I am a Christian.” I expected to feel something different on a mission trip, and as I looked at the people around me, the only feeling that I experienced was apathy. Here I am, the Short-Term Mission Coordinator at First Baptist Church of Geneva, questioning my passion to see the fame of Jesus Christ spread around the world, and doubting whether I was one of his followers because I couldn’t embrace the second greatest command: to love those around me as myself. I’ll return to this part of my story in a moment.

But let me rewind one week. Just prior to leaving for Turkey, I felt God telling me to re-listen to a CD called “Doing Missions When Dying is Gain” by John Piper. We were given this CD during our training, but by the time that we were ready to leave, a few months had passed since I had listened to it. There was a heavy burden on my heart to listen to it once more before I left for Turkey, but I was too busy and it sat unplayed in my CD player.

If I had played the CD, what I heard would have prepared my heart for the experience that I was about to have. John Piper says, “It seems to be woven into the very fabric of our consumer culture that we move toward comfort, toward security, toward ease, toward safety, away from stress, away from trouble, away from danger, and it ought to be exactly the opposite. ‘He who comes after Me must take up his cross and die.’ Whoever said we would be safe in the call of God?”

As I thought about that exhortation in light of feeling that I was not saved, I realized that the problem was not that I was not a Christian, but that I had fallen prey to a life of comfort and security and ease and safety. And while those things were allowing me to thrive physically and emotionally, they were killing me spiritually. I’m convinced that God does not call us to a life of safety and comfort, but a life of adventure in which we can engage His very heart.

Erwin McManus, author of The Barbarian Way, writes, “You are not intended to be a spiritual zoo where people can look at God in you from a safe distance. You are a jungle where the Spirit roams wild and free in your life! You are the recipient of the God who cannot be tamed and of a faith that must not be tamed. You are no longer a prisoner of time and space, but a citizen of the Kingdom of God—a resident of the barbarian tribe. God is not a sedative that keeps you calm and under control by dulling your senses. He does quite the opposite. He awakens your spirit to be truly alive…you are most fully alive when you’re on an adventure with God!.”

One week into our mission trip, God awakened my spirit in a rather odd way. This awakening did not come through ease and comfort, but through deep pain. One week into our trip, my dad and I stood over my mom in the emergency room of the hospital as she grew increasingly delirious until slipping into a coma, and we prepared ourselves for her death. God led me to the jungle where the Spirit can roam wild and free, because in a moment of deep pain and fear, God told me to stop praying for my mom and her safety and health—the creature comforts of a consumer culture that He was calling me loosen my tight grasp upon—and to start praising Him for His immense glory and goodness and grace. I had to declare with the Psalmist that, “The steadfast love of the Lord is better than life!”

As I sat in the hospital waiting room in Turkey for eight hours every day, I had nothing to turn to but God. God took away all distractions. There was no television to watch, no magazines to read, no music playing in the background, no gift shop to peruse. I couldn’t even build community with the other people in the waiting room since I don’t know Turkish. All I had was my Bible, and so I opened it and absorbed the words before me like a dry sponge. And God spoke to me through His Word like never before—simply because I had ears to hear it for the first time. No longer was I reading into the text, but my mouth was shut and God was speaking to me and comforting me and reminding me of who He is and the hope that I have in Him.

The greatest lesson that I took away from Turkey is that the only way I can live this Barbaric faith that is wild and untamed is if I sever all of the ties to the distractions that I have around me that are vying for my attention and fling them to the foot of the cross, trading them for the indescribable joy of being in the presence of God. When I felt that I was not near God at the beginning of our trip, it was not because God had removed His presence from me, but that I had filled my life with so many distractions that I drowned out His still small voice. God invites us to embark on the greatest adventure of all time. Ask yourself what is in your way and I’ll ask myself what is in my way that keeps us from accepting that invitation to journey with Him. What is it that keeps us from going to the ends of the earth and not resting until every tongue and nation and people and tribe have been introduced to the King of the Nations?

The difficult part to hear is that the only way that this can take place is through our suffering. In Colossians 1:24, Paul writes, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I do my share on behalf of His body in filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ.” John Piper comments on this verse: “We proclaim Christ’s sufferings by our own suffering. Christ intends for the Great Commission to be a presentation to the nations of the sufferings of His cross in the sufferings of His people. That’s the way the commission will be finished. If you sign up for missions, that’s what you sign up for. That’s the way it will get done.”

For me, the most difficult and yet beautiful part of the trip was sitting by my mom’s bedside as she cried out in pain and agony day after day. Even as infection attacked the fluid around her brain, she scribbled the words on a piece of paper that “it was all worth it” to enter into the sufferings of Jesus Christ so that the world might know Him. We sang hymns in the ICU ward and our sacrifice of praise not only filled the room, but soared to heaven to land at the feet of Jesus. I have never felt closer to Christ then I did in the moments I spent in that hospital, where God spoke to me and held me and comforted me and reminded me that I am His child and that He loves me unconditionally—where He whispered in my ear the invitation once more to embark with Him on this adventure that we call faith without sight—and where He eagerly and patiently awaited for my reply.

John Piper said, “If our children are going to walk away from Christ, we need to raise them in such a way that they understand that to walk away from Jesus is to walk away from a life of faith, risk, and adventure, and to choose a life that is boring, mundane and ordinary.” I walk with Christ because my parents, and my Turkey team, and my church, have all proven that it is a life of faith and risk and adventure. I don’t want to live a boring, mundane, and ordinary life. And this is the heart of missions! Erwin McManus writes, “A world without God cannot wait for us to choose the safe path. If we wait for someone else to take the risk, we risk that no one will ever act and that nothing will ever be accomplished.” And in His holy Word, God tells us “that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor death, nor anything in all creation can separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus.” If this is true, and I believe with all my heart that it is, then nothing ultimate can harm me.

So I end by reiterating the invitation that God has already extended to you to journey with Him down a path that is full or risk and adventure. It may take you to the least evangelized nation of the world, or it may give you the courage to have that conversation with the unbelieving neighbor next door. But wherever it takes you, let it usher you into the very presence of our glorious God. There is no more exciting or beautiful life to live.