Present

Present

As we continue through this Advent season and look forward to all of the food and fun of Christmas, it is easy to be distracted. We hurry to buy presents and anxiously wait opening the ones under the tree. But, in the back of our minds, we all know that the presents are not what Christmas is about. We are told that the true meaning of Christmas is the birth of Jesus and peace and love and hope. While all of that is completely true, it can be hard to see how to live out that meaning. How can I make my relationships grow in this season? How can my relationship with God grow? How do I live in peace and hope and love? How does the birth of Jesus impact my life right NOW?

I’ve been asking these questions. Lately, I have spent some days feeling lonely without my family and my friends from the States; I have just been wanting another person to be present with me. Not to talk for hours or to go on some great adventure, but just to sit on the couch with me and share the popcorn. And then, last night, as I was sitting at the piano waiting for my husband to get home from work, I started musing on the word “present”.

The Oxford Dictionary lists several definitions for the word, “present.” Here a few of the most common ones:

* (v) To introduce (someone) to someone else         Introduction

* (v) To show or offer (something) for others to scrutinize or consider      Invitation

* (n) Existing or occurring in a place        Involvement

* (n) (usually the present) The period of time now occurring       Immediacy

* (n) A thing given to someone as a gift: “a Christmas present       Intimacy

The more I looked at the word’s meaning, the more I began to see a pattern. I thought of the development of my friendship with my best friend and of my relationship with my husband. They both started with an introduction, a beginning, a first impression. (In the case of my best friend, we knew each other since we were babies so I can’t remember a beginning!) Then, there was an invitation to continue the relationship. My husband asked me to be his girlfriend, then to be his wife; my friend never told me she wanted me to go away, so I guess that’s an invitation too.J Once we had a relationship, we spent time together in the same place—present, involved, together. We knew what was going on in each other’s lives and we were there to help and to just hang out; there had to be and still has to be involvement, or the relationship will grow apart. The closer we get to each other, the more immediate each other’s needs become: when my husband calls me for something, I’m the first one there. When my best friend calls me for something, I try to be the first one there too. When people you care about deeply are in need of anything, their needs come far before any more casual acquaintance. And somehow, in the middle of all of the times spent enjoying each other’s company and being there for each other, an intimacy grows. We give each other gifts of appreciation, for birthdays, for Christmas, for special celebration; we should give our time and resources willingly, not expecting anything in return.

                It’s incredible, really..to see how every small moment really does matter. To recognize that every time we are truly present, we give the relationships in our life a chance to grow and thrive.
                However, what’s more incredible is to see that this is EXACTLY how God builds a relationship with us. In the glorious act of creation, God reveals himself and introduces us to His beauty and power and love. That is the beginning of his pursuit of us. Then He offers us an invitation to know Him through His word and through talking to Him at any time in prayer. He seeks to be involved in our lives—to comfort us, to meet our needs, and to answer prayers. He always hears at exactly the moment we pray and need His presence, and He is always working things for our good. The more we give our time and our energies to knowing Him, the more we praise Him for His glory and gifts, the more He gives us knowledge of Himself and the blessings that go with it.

When I see that the way my relationships with my husband, family, and friends have grown is so similar to how God has continually pursued my heart through relationship, Advent takes on new meaning. Christmas takes on new meaning. I begin to understand that the greatest gift of all is God Himself—and that is what we were given on the day of Christ’s birth. God came to us! He became one of us! And what was the point? To have a one-on-one relationship with us. The manger Jesus was laid in was the giftbox that no one ever expected...and the precious One inside it far surpassed the value of any other gift God could have given. A gift—an indication of intimacy; the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus proved that God had already done everything He could to offer an eternity-altering relationship to us. He created the world and us, He spoke to us, He provided for us, He answered us, and finally, He gave everything He had for us.

What else could the Lord do? How else could He pursue humankind and each of us? As I think about the presents under the tree and the presents I will soon be wrapping up for my nephews, I want to think MORE about how to be present. How to open myself up to deep relationships with the people in my life. How to respond to God’s desire for a relationship with me by just being with Him and getting to know who He is so I can be a true daughter, a true disciple, a true servant.

This Christmas, I am challenging myself (and praying for God’s help) to form new relationships, to build up and bridge older ones, to live out God’s pursuit of me in my marriage, and to respond to God’s call by knowing Him more. I pray that this Christmas you get to see relationships with others and with God grow and change in beautiful ways—and that you embrace the chance to be fully present wherever you are. 

Gritty Grace for the Guilty

You know that sermon I wrote about this week? That sermon that is at once a testimony, an introduction, and an invitation? That sermon that humbly says you are as broken as me and I am as broken as you and we.need. Him.. "I have found Him. Come and see."

Well, here is the truth behind that sermon.

I didn't find Him because I was looking for Him. I didn't find Him because I could stand on some sort of moral high ground and say, "Jesus, look! See how good I'm doing..I deserve a visit, don't I?" I didn't just find Jesus like I find my keys; He found ME.

I found Him like a baby finds his mother when he enters the world covered in amniotic fluid. I opened my eyes to see who gave me life and I saw Him...He brought me into being, He created me, and now He was giving me a vibrant life that I didn't merit.

He found ME. His grace changed ME. He was the one behind all of the verbs.

And the truth of that can be hard to accept on days when I want to merit His notice, when I want to earn His love, when I feel the overwhelming burden of being unable to do either one. To know that He is the One doing the pursuing, the rescuing, and the saving means that I must be the one doing the running, the falling, and the sinking. And boy, do I run, and fall, and sink.

If we were all really honest with ourselves and each other, it would be impossible to deny that we have all run from Him. We have all found ourselves falling into roadside ditches we can't get out of. We have all started sinking in a pit of despair, discouragement, addiction, or bitterness. At some point in our lives, we have all been handed the verdict--GUILTY--and felt it plastered on our foreheads for the weeks, months, and years following the trial.

Perhaps we are guilty of being flawed parents, of neglecting or mistreating our children in a way that has left them unable to handle some of the challenges they now face in life. Perhaps we are guilty of being flawed spouses, of using our words and our actions to build walls in our marriages instead of bridges. Maybe we are guilty of being flawed siblings, handing out condemnation and coldness to anyone who has inadvertently hurt or aggravated us; or flawed children, denying respect and honor to the parents who raised us and sacrificed for us.

Or maybe we are guilty of being flawed friends, of failing to recognize the true value of our friends until they have found others--of failing to walk beside them as they face life without anyone to hold onto. Perhaps we are guilty of being flawed employees, more focused on remuneration or recreation than we are on our responsibilities.

Whatever our failures, we have all been guilty. And we know how hard it can be to deal with grace in those moments.

The moment when your husband says, "I know you didn't mean to say that in such an angry way. I forgive you because God has forgiven me for those things too." Doesn't it physically hurt to accept the hug that follows?

"Is he just forgiving me and coming close to me because he has to? I said something really awful and I just can't take it back."

The moment when your mom said, "I told you that to protect you, but it's over now. I forgive you for disobeying me and I know you will learn to make better choices." Didn't it put a knot in your throat when she cooked a delicious dinner after that conversation and ironed your shirt the next morning before school?

"I disappointed her, but she isn't avoiding me. Why? I wouldn't want to help me if I were her."

There are a million other scenarios in which grace sounds like nails on a chalkboard. It makes us wince, it makes us uncomfortable, and it makes us feel vulnerable. It even makes us angry that those we love are not responding in anger or frustration so that we can fight back.

But the beauty of grace is that it is there for precisely the moments we want to reject it. Grace arrives at the split-second when shame wants to defeat us. When we kneel in tears over a sin so familiar it haunts our days, when we ask for a second chance for the ninety-second time. That is when grace comes and says, "You are loved lavishly and forgiven eternally and it isn't up to you. In all your mudswimming and mistakes, I saw you and waited for this chance to say I'm still here."

When grace talks, we should listen. Because God's grace isn't there to coddle us or cajole us to do a good deed. It is there to reveal our true identities--to wipe away the grit and grime hiding the image of God in us, to polish the new creation that still can get lost behind the decaying mask of the old.

John Stott's descriptions of the need for and definition of grace are so helpful:

“Jesus Christ is indeed a crutch for the lame, to help us walk upright, just as he is also medicine for the spiritually sick, bread for the hungry and water for the thirsty. We do not deny this; it is perfectly true. But then all human beings are lame, sick, hungry and thirsty. The only difference between us is not that some are needy, while others are not. It is rather that some know and acknowledge their need, while others either don't through ignorance or won't through pride.”

“The noun eleos (mercy)… always deals with what we see of pain, misery and distress, these results of sin; and charis (grace) always deals with the sin and guilt itself. The one extends relief, the other pardon; the one cures, heals, helps, the other cleanses and reinstates.”

For those of us who have felt the GUILTY verdict hanging over us for weeks, months, even years..it is time to listen to grace. To realize that while we are sick, lame, hungry, and thirsty, God is Healer and fully able to satisfy.

When we bow down in recognition of our turning away from Him, we can embrace the cross of Christ as fully enough to forgive our sin and restore us to an intimate relationship with our Creator and Redeemer.

Colossians 2:13-14~
"When you were dead in your transgressions and the uncircumcision of your flesh, He made you alive together with Him, having forgiven us all our transgressions, having canceled out the certificate of debt consisting of decrees against us, which was hostile to us; and He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross."

Sermon for the Rest of Us

Sermon for the Rest of Us (John 2)
by Mrs. W

If I had to choose a sermon
That I want my life to show
That exemplifies my goals
And just where I want to go
If I had just one more minute
To be all I pray to be
This would be my sermon:
I have found Him. Come and see.

If I had to choose a sermon
For the restless who need peace
For the lonely who need love
And for the hurt who need relief
If I had to find a way
To give the hope God gave to me
This would be my sermon:
I have found Him. Come and see.

If I had to choose a sermon
That said all I need to say
If I had to leave one message
For the ones I love that day
When my body's cold and lifeless
And my soul is finally free
This would be my sermon:
I have found Him. Come and see.

I have found the One who loves me
And who satisfies my ache
The One who bears my sorrows
Holds the burdens I can't take
I have found the One who knows me
Who forgives me when I fall
Who freed me from my selfish pride
And listens when I call.

I have found the One I never
Even knew I longed to find
When I thought my life so perfect,
He showed me I was blind.
I have found the One who never lies
And never walks away
The One who evil runs from
And who hears me when I pray.

Come and see Him! He invites you.
Come and see this Jesus now
I know you're probably wondering why
You're probably wondering how.
Well, come see Him if you're empty
(And you've never told a soul)
Come see Him if you've failed
And had to pay the awful toll..

Come and see Him if you wonder
Who this Jesus really was
Why He just won't go away
Why He says the things He does..
Come see Him if His followers
Have wounded you with hate
Come see Him if you're angry
That they joy in your mistakes
Come see Him if you think that
He's a fraud the weak believe
He can answer all your questions
He can handle every need.

I have found Him and I know
That He is worth whatever pain
It may cost to take forgiveness
And to claim as yours His Name.
Come and see Him with your questions
Read His words and bow your knee
And soon you'll preach this sermon:
I have found Him. Come and see!

Poetic Leaps

The first class I ever took in college was focused on the creation of poetry. My professor, Prof. Weaver, was an old grandfatherly man with skin like the smooth brown leather on the poetry journal I've been eyeing for years. He had a quiet voice that was both intriguing and sleep-inducing, and I often sat there wondering how I had never heard of a poet like him. His poems were beautiful, so beautiful that even when I could not understand them, I did not feel I needed to. One of my own poems I turned in (which I was fairly proud of) elicited a comment from him that I have never forgotten: "Ashley, you need to take this the whole way. I feel like you stopped somewhere before the poetic leap you needed to take here. Leap, don't hesitate."

While I struggled to understand what he said in regards to my poetry, I valued that advice in a different way. It's true that I had stopped somewhere before taking a leap; I do it all the time. Hesitating on the brink of a scary change, a scary decision, a scary future. I peer over the edge and because I can't see everything below me, I will not jump. In my mind, I will say "I'm just not jumping yet." But in reality, I have no intention of jumping until I see for myself that someone has dragged a nice cushy mat at the bottom that will absolutely catch me. I will not leap until I know for sure that that leap will take me exactly where I plan on going.

Sometimes I think that this is healthy caution. In ordinary life, of course, people don't go jumping off cliffs or into shallow water. But in my walk with God, this is more like doubt than caution. I essentially say to God, "God, unless you tell me the future, I'm not gonna follow. Unless you reach out and physically hold my hand, I'm locking myself in here to keep safe. Unless I have a contingency plan that covers plans B, C, D, E, and F, You aren't gonna get me to go anywhere."

That is resistance. That is disobedience. That is pride and stubbornness. And, most importantly, that is fear--the crippling kind that freezes our limbs and makes our minds spin in circles for hours.

Leaps don't necessarily seem poetic to me. (If they did, I might be more likely to embrace them.) But leaps are necessary. Hanging out at the top of a ledge because jumping is too scary forces you to focus on your fear and never move past it: jumping even when you're scared gets you back down to solid ground.

I think it's time I learned how to leap--how to follow through on a project without worrying about its perfect outcome--how to trust God to use me for His purpose when day-to-day life can seem purposeless--how to let unexpected changes transform me into a better and healthier me, rather than a doubting and discouraged shadow of me.

Maybe God put that grandfatherly voice of a professor in my life at exactly the time I needed to hear those words--not just for my poetry, but for my perseverance in the life God gave me.

"Ashley, you need to take this the whole way. I feel like you stopped somewhere before the leap you needed to take here. Leap, don't hesitate..." Leap.

Abundant

For the past few weeks, I have been reminded over and over that Jesus wants us to have ABUNDANT life. My pastors have been preaching about service, about outreach, about spreading the gospel from generation to generation. In my apologetics study group, we have talked about evidence that God is telling the truth and how we can trust Him. And, in all of those diverse subjects,
I thought about this verse:

John 10:10
"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."

Who is the thief? Who is the one who steals and kills and destroys that abundant life?

           Laziness...that won't let us serve. 

           Fear...that cuffs our hands behind our back so we cannot reach out. 

           Distraction...that makes us forget to share the good news with those around us. 

           Doubt...that pushes us away from God because we cannot believe that He is honest, that He is good, that He is in control. 

Is abundant life just an empty promise? I don't feel like I am living an abundant life some days. I feel emptiness and loneliness and longing for something more. But, then I get reminded that I.have.Jesus.

HE is the source of abundant life. And the peace and love and strength He offers is available to me, when I am focused on Him and on what He calls me to. 

This week was full of activity, but unlike my 4 years of college, it carried incredible meaning and power. On Monday night, my husband and I were able to go sort clothes to give away at a ministry site for the poor. On Tuesday, we watched a good friend be baptized and were able to celebrate God's work in her life with friends and family. On Wednesday, I got the chance to meet a large group of seniors from our church; what a blessing! We all sang hymns and ate soup and chatted and listened to a devotional from God's Word. Then, that night, my husband and I went to an apologetics study group to watch a video highlighting the evidence for the Exodus. On Thursday night, I attended a Polish language class so I can better communicate with my in-laws and started making vocab flashcards (my favorite!). 

Whirlwind week, but I am overjoyed by the ways God is filling my empty calendar with satisfying and life-giving moments. When I exile the thieves--when I banish the laziness, fear, distractions, doubt, and compulsions to sin that weaken my faith and my fervor for the kingdom--then I am able to come to Jesus for abundant life. Then I am able to serve and share and open my heart wide to let in the fullness of all He has given. 

I can value my intimate relationships as I should. I can show hospitality and care to the people around me. I can live at peace with God, with others, and with myself because Jesus has made peace...

Colossians 1:19-20
"For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross..."

Because God the Father is pleased for His everything to dwell in Jesus, we are able to have everything through Jesus...everything we could ever need.

[Video: Abundantly, by Avalon]

New Me

Whew. It has been a busy few weeks as my husband and I prepared our belongings for our new place, moved in, and started unpacking all these boxes. I'm sitting at our kitchen table sweating from lack of AC (!) but incredibly grateful for the slowed down pace of this morning.

Today was the first time in a while that I got a chance to sit at the piano and work on some of the thoughts God has been putting in my heart since the beginning of the summer. Graduation day felt like a turning point for me and kick-started a wild summer of adjustments to married life and adjustments to a new city, new country, and new family. While I'm sure that sounds like a lot of changes, God has been so present in all of them; I feel a calm in my soul that I don't think I have been able to feel since I was living in Pennsylvania during my sophomore year of high school. That year was the last one that I can remember in which my life was stable. I had my old friends, my longtime school, lots of time to spend with my mom and with my cousins...there was a peace in that which I see now came from a fundamental understanding of God's care for me on a daily basis.

But once my junior year came and my parents and I moved out of our home, moved to Massachusetts, and prepared for a new life in the Northeast, I struggled to remember God's care. Our family had struggles, my senior year in public school was painful for lots of reasons, and I began to realize the profound sinfulness in my heart as I grew distant from God. I did not trust His care anymore; I worried about everything, I grew anxious socially and academically, and I forgot that God was present with me and ready to guide me through every circumstance.

That anxiety manifested itself physically and mentally once I entered college. I had anxiety attacks, I lost an unhealthy amount of weight, and my hair began thinning. I ate meals at crazy times, some semesters I worked two jobs while carrying a full courseload, I stressed about whether or not my professors were impressed by my work, and I fought to hang onto friends that ultimately weren't interested in being my friends. On top of those issues, my circumstances kept changing. I lived in 4 different buildings in 4 years, switched churches, switched my major, and threw myself into work with students at various grade levels, from various nations, through various schools and providers.

Oh, and I started dating, got engaged, and got married.

I began to think that I was controlling my life; I wouldn't have said it out loud, but I believed it. Because of that belief, I lost my joy. It was hard to smile, hard to make deep friendships, hard to treat my boyfriend (and eventually, fiance and husband) in the kind of spiritually encouraging way I knew I should be, and hard to forgive my family members for the often inadvertent ways they had hurt me. I knew something was wrong in my heart, but I felt that the pace of my life offered me no real ways to mend that broken place.

God knew what to do though. He took me out of my comfort zone this past May, moved me to Canada, and forced me to spend months alone with Him (and with my husband). He allowed my trust issues, my spiritual struggles, and my deep longing for security and affection to surface. In doing so, He forced me to acknowledge that His work in me was not dependent on my meeting His (or my own) standards. I finally realized that whatever plans He has for me are SO much better than the plans I have for myself.

This song, New Me, I wrote this morning as I sat at my Clavinova. I thought about how the Lord is using this season of my life, when I am not working or going to school, to change my dreams for the future. I wanted to introduce Him to someone who is willing to allow Him to change my heart, fill me with joy, and empower me to serve Him in ways I never planned for. Despite how personal this song is to me (and likely to other post-grads), I hope it will resonate with you and encourage you to seek God's plan and not the plans that would merely gratify yourself or others.

New Me

Four years gone by, diploma in hand
And life is just not what I had planned
Lots of laughter but lots more tears
Thought I'd feel safe once I faced my fears
But now I'm back to the girl I once was
And I think we grew apart
I don't even know where to start

Everybody asks, "What's the next step?
Where will you go? What is your dream?"
Why don't they ask, "With the time you have left,
Who are you going to be?"
Yeah I know it may seem like that time was a waste
Now that the account's running dry
But Lord, meet the new me
And where I want to be
Is living before it's time to die

Summer's gone by, cold settling in
And my life is so full I can't even begin
To describe all the love and the peace that I've found
In knowing that He keeps my feet on the ground
Every step of my way, God is holding my hand
And meeting my every need
Even though we grew apart
He knows where I need to start

Everybody asks, "What's the next step?
Where on the ladder do you wanna climb?"
Why don't they ask, "With the time you have left
How is your light gonna shine?"
Yeah I know it might seem like I've thrown dreams away
But maybe those dreams just weren't true
Lord, meet the new me
And who I want to be
Is anyone walking with you

Put that spring in my step
Put that joy on my face
Put that song on my lips
Let me sing of your grace
Break the chains of the dark
Clothe me with light
There's a world that needs love
Let my heart flow like Christ's (2x)

Everybody asks, "What's the next step?
How high can you get? What will it take?"
Why don't they ask, "With the time you have left
What difference are you going to make?" (2x)
Yeah I know it might seem like I gave my life up
But God is more precious than pearls
Lord, meet the new me
And what I want to be
Is a servant who's changing the world
A lover, a writer, a mother, a fighter,
A servant who's changing the world.

Called By Name

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet..."-Shakespeare

When you think about it, Shakespeare asked a rather provocative question. What do names truly mean? Are they a sign of something's value and nature or simply a recognition of its existence?

As I was reading earlier tonight, I was struck by the constant focus on naming in God's Word. Even at the very beginning of time, God was busy naming things. He named the day, the night, heaven, the earth, and the seas (Genesis 1); he then named man "human" (or the Hebrew word for human, "Adam") (Genesis 2). But the process of naming continued from Genesis to Revelation and carries significant weight in Scripture. Here are a few helpful thoughts:

1. The one who names another is almost always in a position of power or authority.

Adam names his wife Eve, first calling her "Woman" and then Eve, which means "mother of all living". Later in Genesis, God renames Abram by calling him Abraham and renames Sarai by calling her Sarah (Genesis 17:5, 15). The fathers in the Bible are also given the responsibility of naming their children. In the New Testament, we see Christ giving Simon the new name of Peter (or "Cephas," which means "rock") (Matthew 16:17-18). Giving a name to someone within your care and protection indicated their purpose and their position in the system or family.

2. The names of places and people mean something extraordinarily significant.

a.Take, for example, the many names of monuments, memorials, and holy places in the Old Testament. Their names are crucial to the people's understanding of their significance: Beer Lahai Roi ("well of the Living One who sees me" / Genesis 16:13-14), YHWH-jireh ("The Lord Will Provide"/ Genesis 22:14), Gilgal ("rolling [away the reproach of Egypt]" / Joshua 5:9), and many others. In the New Testament, the same is true of place names: who can forget Gethsemane ("the place where olive oil is pressed") or Golgotha ("the place of a skull")?

b. People's names are even more crucial to understanding of the text. God continually reveals the identities of his followers and his enemies through the meanings of their unique names. God changes the name of Jacob (or "supplanter") to Israel ("who prevails with God"): this change happens after Jacob has already supplanted his brother Esau through deceit and directly after he wrestles with God and wins (Genesis 35:10). The names are accurate clues to Israel's identity, character, and history. God also gives Solomon (or "peaceable") the name Jedidiah ("beloved of the Lord") through the prophet Nathan (2 Samuel 12:24-25).

Calling something or someone by a particular name is an act of recognition and relationship. It displays an understanding of one's nature and uniqueness and role.

So, now I bet you're wondering why I've been thinking about this so much. Why bother looking into all of this? Well, there are two reasons.

The first is that I have been convicted so much lately by the Lord Jesus' forthright teachings in the Sermon on the Mount. He is boldly confronting the people with their responsibility to recognize and call sin exactly what it is. To paraphrase, You think looking over that sexy guy or girl you see in the room or on your screen is no big deal? It is a big deal: it's adultery. You think it's okay to harbor bitterness and hatred in your heart if you don't act on it? Well it isn't okay: it's murder. You think you can divorce and remarry when it's convenient for you? Think again; you and your spouse are adulterers. I wonder if we--if I--have completely lost the truth found in Christ's core teachings. Do we really examine our hearts and our steps to point out sin and repent of it? I know I often fail to.

What leads me to think that I can fail to recognize and identify the evil in my life with impunity? Am I truly aware of the holiness of the God I claim to serve?

The answer is a shameful no, most days. And when we will not confront the sin in our lives and in our world with honesty and Scripture and call it the names God has provided us with, it will conquer us. We will be defeated by an enemy we have not acknowledged...an enemy we have let sleep in our beds, roam in our minds, capture our hearts, and weaken our souls until we are powerless to fend it off.

The second reason I have been thinking about names is found in Isaiah 43, verses 1 through 7:

But now, thus says the LORD, your Creator, O Jacob,
            And He who formed you, O Israel,
            “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
            I have called you by name; you are Mine!
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
            And through the rivers, they will not overflow you.
            When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched,
            Nor will the flame burn you. 
“For I am the LORD your God,
            The Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
            I have given Egypt as your ransom,
            Cush and Seba in your place. 
“Since you are precious in My sight,
            Since you are honored and I love you,
            I will give other men in your place and other peoples in 
            exchange for your life. 
“Do not fear, for I am with you;
            I will bring your offspring from the east,
            And gather you from the west. “I will say to the north, ‘Give
            them up!’
           And to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’
            Bring My sons from afar
            And My daughters from the ends of the earth, Everyone who is called by My name,
            And whom I have created for My glory,
            Whom I have formed, even whom I have made.”

I actually had to bow my head in worship as I read that passage...overwhelmed by the fact that the One who named the heavens and the earth, who formed the first man out of dust, knows.my.name. He calls me BY NAME. He recognizes not merely my existence, but my value. And more than all of that, He calls me His. "You are Mine!...My sons...My daughters...called by My name."

If we didn't know how much God has cared about names since the beginning of time, if we didn't understand the preciousness of a name that represents our character and purpose, then maybe this wouldn't be such a cause for wonder. We could scan over those words without much thought. But since we do know, the words of the prophet Isaiah resonate deeply in our hearts. The Holy One of Israel IS our Savior. OURS. And to Him, we are precious...honored. He loves us enough to give all.

I love you. It's so clear and simple. Yet we feel we need to tiptoe around the truth, call things by names that aren't real to somehow evade Him. Why?

Why don't we call pain, pain? It hurts and we're hurting and we can't make it better ourselves. Why don't we tell Him that? Why don't call our lust, lust, and our hatred, hatred, and our selfishness, selfishness? We say "we stumbled, we made a mistake, we slipped up, it was just a hard day for lots of reasons, he shouldn't have said that to me, what was I supposed to do," etc...always a euphemism or excuse, but never the name.

If it's true that God loves us and treasures us and honors us and calls us His (which it is), then why must we hide behind walls to relate to Him? We are sinners, we sin, and God knows we do. He calls us to recognize sin, repent of it, and return to Him. Constantly, daily, hourly even.

And, on the other hand, why do we feel we cannot rejoice in an intimate relationship with our Creator when that is precisely what He calls us to? We have been created for His glory, and He is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him (John Piper). Let's return. Let's worship. Let's rejoice in the fact that he 

         has called us by name; we are His! When we pass through the waters, He will be with us; And through the rivers, they will not overflow us. When we walk through the fire, we will not be scorched, Nor will the flame burn us. (Isaiah 43:1-2)

Remembering the Future?

While I was making breakfast this morning, I found myself humming the chorus to a song I wrote a few years ago: "Can't you remember tomorrow? Nothing was ever the same..maybe it's only a dream's memory--like a rainbow reaching for rain."

Bizarre use of tense for an English major, I know. But for several years, I have felt the past, present, and future overlapping in such bizarre ways in my mind. I've had incredibly vivid dreams where I am sobbing holding my baby girl, only to wake up and realize that she is gone. There is no baby girl at all. The ache in my arms is still there, though. Unexplainably. Several years ago, after a friend of our family was killed in Iraq and my cousin was badly injured in Afghanistan, I woke from nightmares of violence and personal injury to find that I was safe in my own bed. I was safe at home, but they weren't. And the ache of the past's collision with the present lingered in my heart.

Time is not a linear thing. It is of all things most circular. Returning again and again to the images, stories, and moments we know matter deeply. The past does not reside exclusively in its own world, but continuously crosses the border into our world--the present.

This afternoon, as I was surfing the web for some books on the Christian church, I came upon an online copy of my mom's 1993 book, Jason: My Child. (For more info, click here: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0963120034)..The book tells the story of my brother's long battle with leukemia and my family's experience as they watched him fight with God's strength and childlike faith. I never knew my brother, but I love him and think about him more than probably makes sense. BELOW: Here he is in the hospital at 6 years old (Gainesville Sun/ May 31, 1985).

You likely won't be surprised to know that I have never finished reading the book (despite the fact that my lovely mom authored it) because it leaves me so emotionally vulnerable; my eyes sting for the rest of the day, as if I was cutting onions. But today, I decided to reread the last few chapters--the same ones I read so many times when my parents' house was empty and I wanted to feel God's presence through Jason's words.

My mom writes:

"It had been a long time since I had been to his grave. The polished granite marker read —Jason Vitale February 7, 1979- January 30, 1991 Home in heaven —Jesus died for me. Emptiness shook me. What had I expected to find here, after all? The words of the verse, Why seek ye the living among the dead. He is not here... echoed in my mind.I imagined Jason shaking his head as he watched his mother, standing alone in a cold cemetery; just because she wanted to be near him.

I thought of the warmth, brightness, and beauty of heaven.

Jason was with the Lord. My emptiness vanished; I did not belong here. Looking upward, I smiled and blew Jason a kiss...

At times, when missing Jason, I picture him here, a part of the chaos we call family life. He is holding Ashley — a sister he has never seen — or laughing at Sarah’s antics, helping MaryEllen or Bryan with their schoolwork or teasing Bethany. It is nice to think that he is not missing us."

I'm Ashley, the sister he has never seen. And there's a part of that picture in my mom's head that I've replayed in my own many times. Why am I the one he never met? Why did God take him from our family so early that I got to see the inevitable results of grief but not the immense faith of my 11-year-old brother? The questions I raise are not angry or bitter, but truly curious. There must be a reason.

I like to think that God gave me Jason as a story (instead of a sibling who could stand beside me) because He knew how much a story could get my attention. He knew the way I'd fall in love with the written word--reading by age 3, correcting my sister's grammar when she was 3 grades beyond me, memorizing whole books before I could brush my own teeth. God saw the day I would weep uncontrollably in the car while reading Mitch Albom's Tuesdays with Morrie and the day I would read a simple kind email from one of my blog readers and fall in love with the man who wrote it. A man who just so happened to go by Jason's middle name.

I like to think God gave me some sort of resemblance to Jason that my older siblings never had, just like they had a relationship with him that I never had. Some days, I wake up seeing my dad's facial expression when he has told me, "You have no idea how much you remind me of Jason. Your smile and the way you think about things.." He's smiling a smile that's hard to explain, but I know it's proud. 

I kept reading backwards (as I often do) and caught something I don't remember seeing before: 

"We are forever thankful to God for allowing Jason to touch our hearts. Through him we learned much about God’s sustaining grace, love and power. While he taught us a lot about dying, he taught us much more about living as we witnessed a peace that comes from trusting God completely...

Jason once told us, “God puts us here and gives us a job to do. When it is done he takes us home to heaven. God is going to bless me by taking me home early. Do what you are supposed to do, raise your family for God and I’ll see you when you get there.”

Wow. I wish I spent every day remembering the truth of those words he gave my parents. 

Having recently married and moved, I often wonder what God has planned for the remainder of my adult life. Work, family, service, who knows? But Jason's right. No matter what, God's given me a job to do. Right now, my focus should be to do what I'm supposed to do today, raise my family (no matter how big or small) for God, and wait to see him when I get there.

I feel a little like that rainbow tonight; hanging in the sky, reaching backward for the rain whose beauty came before me. The house is getting dark as the sun moves past it, and I feel a little dark as the reality of how short life truly is hits my heart.

As I hold my nieces and nephews during the precious times I can, as I interact with my in-laws and my brothers and sisters and my friends, as I engage in important public conversations, as I seek a career and opportunities for service, as I do all the things I do in my ordinary days...I pray God would show me the job He has given me to do and help me do it well. 

I want to trust Him like Jason did, even when my best-laid plans get thrown by the roadside in favor of "new" plans God has made for me. I want to "do what I'm supposed to do" even when it isn't easy and I have a million excuses for why I can't. 

I love you, Jason. Thanks for teaching me lessons even when you aren't here to tell me in person. Thanks for trusting God when it wasn't easy so I would start to learn how...

I'll see you when I get there!

Responding to the Call

Two Scriptures have been in my mind all day--one from the book of Esther and the other from the Gospel of Matthew. The more I thought about their messages, the more I realized they share a deep connection to a lesson God has been trying to teach me these past few months. 

{Esther 4:13-14}

Then Mordecai told them to reply to Esther, “Do not imagine that you in the king’s palace can escape any more than all the Jews. For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place and you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows whether you have not attained royalty for such a time as this?”

The question Mordecai asks Queen Esther has always struck me as one of the most important questions in the Bible. Those I most often place at the center of the Bible are "What do you think of Jesus?", "Whom do men say that I am?", "Am I my brother's keeper?", and "Did God really say?". The first asks about an individual relationship with Jesus, the second asks about the social understanding of Jesus, the third asks about an individual's responsibility for his fellow man, and the fourth asks about an individual's responsibility to the truth of God. But Mordecai's question is different because it asks about an individual's response to the call of God. 

The circumstances of Esther's life have been ordained by a sovereign God. Mordecai is simply reminding Esther of the behind-the-scenes work of God in her life. Essentially he says, Why do you think God brought you here? Do you think this is an accident? And if God wants to use you and you don't listen, don't you think He will find someone who will? Take a look at verse 13 again: If you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews (God's people) from another place. 

Esther is a young woman who has been catapulted from a low position as an orphan in her uncle's house to the second highest position in a heathen kingdom. The potential for her heart to be swayed away from the God of Israel and from her uncle's lessons is enormous. But her response to the calling God placed on her life changed the course of history and saved her people. She listened to God and to the people He placed in her life to care for her. Her honorable character and beauty captivated the heart of a heathen king and brought glory to God.

The other verse I was thinking of is in Matthew, at the beginning of the gospel narrative:

{Matthew 3:7-10}

But when [John] saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Therefore bear fruit in keeping with repentance; and do not suppose that you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham for our father’; for I say to you that from these stones God is able to raise up children to Abraham. The axe is already laid at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

At first read, Mordecai's question and John the Baptist's stern warning seem unrelated. While Mordecai is speaking to Esther and reminding her of God's sovereignty, John is speaking to the hypocritical religious leaders and reminding them of God's holiness. However, both men are clearly identifying our responsibility as individuals to answer the call of God. 

For Esther, as a follower of the Lord, her response needs to be courageous. Her fear of the king's scepter must bow to her reverence for God and her love for her people. For the Pharisees and Sadducees, as only false followers of God and hypocrites in need of God's salvation, their response needs to be contrite. They must repent of their evil attitudes and actions and obey the commands of God in sincerity.

Both calls are applicable in my life (and I think, in all of our lives). When we find ourselves riddled by sin and failure, entangled in the lies of the world around us, and continuously comparing ourselves to others for the sake of our own pride, that is when God is calling us to repent and bear fruit--to turn from what offends Him and willingly offer what pleases Him most. On the other hand, when we find ourselves struggling to keep our heads above water in trials--when we are afraid of the future and worry about whether obeying God's calling to service will cost us too much--that is when God is calling us to trust Him. He arranged our circumstances and He has a mission for us in exactly the place He has put us RIGHT NOW. 

How will I respond? How will we respond?..

ReBlog: Clinging

I was just reading through some former writings and found a post that speaks to me right where I am today. Amazing when God uses the past!

[From August 27, 2012]

Musings on John 20:1-18

A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with a close friend of mine that changed my whole perception of this resurrection story. He shared with me that he was reading about Mary Magdalene at the tomb in John 20 and said "You know what's incredible? Jesus loved Mary. Mary loved Jesus. And when He said "Don't touch me", like we've always heard, it really means "Stop clinging to me". Wouldn't it be amazing to hold onto Jesus so tightly that He'd have to tell us let go a little?"

Wow.
That wounded me like a knife in the gut. I had never thought of that scene in that way...and I can admit that rarely have I drawn so close to the Savior that He would ever wonder about restraining me from coming closer.

I am humbled when I think of the story of Mary Magdalene. She had been possessed by seven demons before she met Jesus and He graciously healed her. Undoubtedly, her former life was one of immeasurable darkness and torture and bondage. It is interesting that in the Scriptures, the number seven is a number of completeness...what a cruel and seemingly inescapable prison to have seven demons living your soul! But, here beside the tomb of Jesus, she is a free woman...overwhelmed by grief that the Man who saved her life has been stolen from His grave. Completely dumbfounded that the Man she believed to be the Messiah is dead. Lonely for that prized closeness with Love and Light himself.

Notice the first verse: "On the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came early to the tomb, while it was still dark, and saw the stone already taken away from the tomb." She came early...the earliest time of the week at the earliest time of day. She came in the dark. She sought the One she loved before everything else. And who was the first to see the empty tomb of Jesus? Mary.

As she ran to tell the other disciples that He was not there, the news must have been beyond confusing to her finite mind. How could this be? Where is He? In verses 10 and 11, there is a contrast I hadn't noticed until I examined it again. "The disciples went away again to their own homes...but Mary was standing outside the tomb weeping; and so, as she wept, she stooped and looked into the tomb." Jesus' own chosen men left the tomb to go home. In effect, they decided to close up shop because nothing wonderful could happen here at the empty tomb of their Master. But what did Mary do? Overcome with grief and covered in tears, she stood by the tomb and looked for something more. In verse 15, who is the first to see the angels and to be asked that searching question "Why are you weeping?" Mary. This woman who had watched the Light of the Lord Jesus banish her darkness was the first to be introduced to the stunning truth that the Light of the World had conquered even the blackness of death itself. 

Best of all, who was the first to see the Lord Jesus alive again? Mary. She turns to Him, "supposing Him to be the gardener" and asks where he has been laid. And yet, the risen Christ stands right in front of her and, in response, speaks only her name. "Mary." Instantly, everything is clear! Can we even imagine the joy in Mary's heart as she held Him and said "Rabboni!"? Her heart must have been leaping.

She was at the cross. She watched Him die. And now she stands at the empty tomb in His open arms!

Then, she hears these tender words in verse 17; "Stop clinging to Me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brethren and say to them, 'I ascend to My Father and your Father, and my God and your God." I can't wrap my head or my heart around this verse. I don't think I will ever be able to.

The Lord Jesus had completed everything to rescue a fallen world and bring them into close communion with God once again. Because of His sacrifice, His God is now ours. His Father is now ours by blood. And who does He tell first? A weeping woman that hangs onto Him for dear life. A weak woman He had rescued from the devil's strong grip. Tenderly, Jesus gives the news of His resurrection--the greatest triumph in history--not to His disciples, not to kings and queens and generals, not to crowds of admiring spectators..but to Mary Magdalene who hangs on His neck in tears.

Because she sought Him, because she devoted her whole heart to the only One who could provide the pure love she craved, this woman who had lived in the world's darkness for long enough found the risen Jesus first. And as she clung to Him and then obediently released her hold on Him so He could finally return to His throne in heaven, she taught us all a lesson not to be forgotten.

Seek Him sincerely and seek Him first. Seek Him in your darkness. You will find Him and when you do, cling to Him with everything you have. Because His life is the only life worth clinging to.

No Longer Sin's Slave. Now Abba's Child.

Nine months ago, on November 14, 2014, I wrote something darker than I ever wrote before. I felt something darker than I ever felt too. I remember sitting in the dim lobby of my college residence hall, sobbing into the silence, and hoping none of my friends would walk in the door and see me. The clicking keys were somehow cathartic as I wrestled with God via rhetorical questions aimed at the air:

"Just because God is trustworthy, does not mean I trust Him. I know I should pray but I don’t want to talk to Him. I know I should read His Word but when I do, I just feel farther away.

I don’t meet His standards, His law is almost like Greek to me when I am this dried up. I’ve never been so parched in all my life, and I know parched. I once was so dehydrated I needed 5 bags of IV fluid to get my strength back. This is so much worse...

What do we do with our faith when we wake up every morning with a knot in our throat that just won’t go away? What do we possibly say to the Life-giver when we wish that life would just end because it has become too much to carry? What do we do with our worship when prayer feels like an act, when songs of joy sound like mock performances to a God who knows I’m just masking my pain? When Job’s heart and life were falling apart, how could he say “blessed be the name of the Lord” and not feel like some sort of fraud? I know God knew His pain, but He could have stopped it. He could have kept him from those painful conversations with his friends that made him feel more alone. But He didn’t. Why? You may say it was to bless him. But He could have blessed him anyway. Why the total heartbreak? The betrayal? Why the sickness and the grieving and the ruin of all of his hard work and plans? God had a purpose, yes. He blessed him in much greater measure afterwards, yes. But in the blackness of that suffering, how could he have possibly kept his faith that God was still good and still listening?

I’m still asking for the answer to that question. When I pass the so-called friends I had until they didn’t want me anymore. When I wake up miles away from my husband and sick with the temptation to run to an addiction that will numb my loneliness. When I hear news that family members are sick and scared and hurting. When hopes for the future are dashed, and my hard efforts in the present seem completely useless. When the bank account is running on empty, and my physical and mental energy is depleted more than ever before. I’m still asking. The question that the psalmist asked--the question the Savior asked on the cross. “My God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me? I cry all day and all night, and you don’t hear or answer.”

Maybe He does and I just don’t hear. Maybe He doesn’t and I just can’t see the reason why. In my head, I know I have a Father who loves me, who listens, who knows, and who cares. I know in my head He’s watching me write this, maybe even sharing the tears in my eyes. But, I’m still asking..because my heart doesn’t feel His presence and doesn’t believe the truth when the lies are so heavy and strong. The morning will come..but it hasn’t. And I don’t know when it will."

My body and my mind were drained. A family member had just been diagnosed with cancer. I was living hours away from my husband and knew I would not see him for another month. Even writing this now, I can feel that knot forming in my throat again... For the first time, I recognized that God is with me even when I sense nothing of His presence or His love; He was still with me when I didn't feel Him or accept His promises or spend time at His feet. But the fact that He was there did not mean I was able to experience the peace and comfort He was trying to give me.

Over the past nine months, my world has shifted dramatically. I graduated from college, moved from Massachusetts to Ontario...and became a housewife. Yeah, I never thought I would say that. Yet, as much as I would love to be working right now (especially given the real estate market here) and I am struggling with the hours while my husband is at work in which I feel utterly useless, I have learned something in this transition:

     

    My life is not measured by the job I do, or the grades I earn, or the feelings I feel, or the people I know, or the praise I receive. My life is not defined by my anxiety, or by my panic attacks, or by my physical appearance, or by my weight, or by my social status. 

    My life is measured by the distance between me and my Savior, and by the volume of His voice in my heart, and by the depth of my understanding of His character and compassion, and by the length of His arms as they reach out to lift me up when I fall. My life is defined by His peace, and by His love, and by His justice, and by His grace.

So often I tell myself that God doesn't want to hear from me, that He has given up on me and has better things to do, that He is angry at my failure to be who I should be and to do all I should do. But, even though I know my sin and distance grieve and offend Him deeply, those lines I repeat to myself are LIES. They are lies written by the very father of lies who rejoices in my defeat and laughs at my fear and is pleased when I am in pain. 

Today, July 20, 2015, begins a new chapter of my story. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, I will pray that God gives me the strength to fight those lies with the truth of my identity in Him. I will pray God lets me use my gifts in a way that honors the God who saved me and continues to save me. I will run to the Cross when I feel overwhelmed by the weight of my need for a Rescuer and a Redeemer. 

Because this is the real truth. When life begins..when the miracle of birth takes place..someone entirely new enters the world. And when God gave me new life 13 years ago, He  changed me for eternity and offered me the chance to become someone entirely new. A NEW creation. A woman who, through the Holy Spirit, is armed with a secure identity, a certain future, and the truth that can set her free.

{Romans 8: 1-4, 14-17}

Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death. For what the Law could not do, weak as it was through the flesh, God did: sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and as an offering for sin, He condemned sin in the flesh, so that the requirement of the Law might be fulfilled in us, who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit...For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.