On the balcony of my condo, a bird's nest has appeared. I know nothing about birds so I wouldn't presume to even guess what kind of birds have taken residence with me. I had the pleasure of watching the mother bird feed her 3 babies. God paints a beautiful story in Creation that I'm eager to share! These 3 little birds, unable to fly or feed themselves stretched their necks heavenward for a long length of time as the mother flew back and forth from gathering food to feeding. There they sat, chirping, necks stretched back, and mouths open wide. I wouldn't describe the babies as patient. In fact, at times, they were quite the opposite. Regardless of the mother's presence, their heads remained focused upward and their mouths remained open anticipating food.
What a parallel for Christian discipleship! Like these little birds, new babes in Christ often begin with robust appetites--it is an almost desperate hunger. I pray we always maintain such a hunger for the things of God. Though starving, new believers have not yet learned to feed themselves. So, they crane their necks with mouths open waiting anxiously to be fed. The wise and mature recognize that these babes are not yet ready for solid food. As Paul explains to the Corinthians, "I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it" (1 Corinthians 3:2). Here, on my balcony, I witnessed the same wisdom in this mother bird. Knowing solid food would not feed her children, she first found the food, ate it, digested it and then regurgitated it to her babes. It's interesting that this regurgitated nutrition looks very much like milk!! The point is rather direct: in discipleship (feeding the hungry), we must first seek the truth, receive it as truth, internalize and live it, and then offer it to the hungry. We must know the truth (digest it) before we can spread the truth (regurgitate it).
One day, these little birds will learn to fly and they will be able to feed themselves. I've heard that mother birds sometimes push their babies out of the nest to teach them to fly. This is true spiritually, as well! As they grow into adult birds, there will come a time when they, too, will feed babes. It is a continuous cycle--discipleship. We disciple, the discipled disciple, and so on. This is Kingdom growth demonstrated throughout Creation.
Truly, God is everywhere and in all things. Therefore, His message is everywhere and in all things for those willing to see it. "For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse" (Romans 1:20). I love it!
P.S. At one point, both mother and father were feeding the babes at the same time. Hurrah to partnership!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Tribute to the Gardner
In dry and barren soil, a withering flower wrestles for life with the greedy and selfish weeds that consume all that is bright and colorful. The weeds have taken root and taken over. With blades of shadow, they block the warmth and nourishment of sun and rain. Snakes and all things that creep and crawl move freely throughout this dark skeleton of a garden keeping all that might seek life cowering where they lie. What will become of this little flower trapped with no chance of freedom in sight? How can it hope without knowing for what (or for whom) to hope? There it sits, wilted and weeping.
Surely roots dig deeper than the surface, thinks the little flower. Surely color is meant to be brilliant. Why can I not lift my head to search for light? My stem is weak and bent, my blossom droops, my nectar is dry, and my petals fall as tears on the dusty earth. Is this life?
There is a man watching this little flower. Who is He to care for the wilted and colorless? Trowel in hand, the man brushes aside the weeds, thistles, and thorns and begins to dig despite the blood that is drawn from his hands. A cool breeze blows through the darkness; the snakes slither away. He uproots the flower with a smile and gently places it in the pouch of His apron. Wiping the sweat from His brow, He begins to whistle a lively tune as if some victory had been won after a fierce battle.
He walks with purpose away from the dead garden and toward a greater land of heaven and earth. After traveling a distance, He kneels on the soft, plush ground of a garden filled with beauty and bells. He pulls out His trowel and begins to dig again. Carefully, He removes the flower from the cradle of His apron and places it in new soil, a new garden. There is instant stimulation as moist, fertile soil hugs the roots and covers the base of the flower. Its roots become alive drinking in health. The man pats the earth around the flower, still whistling, ensuring it is snug and safely planted.
What is this new energy racing through my veins? Oh, wait! What is this? Coolness! How refreshing is the fresh water He pours down rinsing away the dust and stain of darkness and decay. I am clean! Color is returning to my blossom and. . .there! There it is! The sun. I see it! I feel it! Shine down on me! I am reaching for you! May my face never be out of its sight. . or HIs. I see HIm smiling. Do I bring Him pleasure? There are so many other flowers in this garden of color and light. Do we all bring Him pleasure? We must. I can tell by the way He stands back and looks upon us with a grin of satisfaction after a job well done. This must be His garden.
There in the garden, the rolling color of life rings bells of freedom. The sound is glorious and the sight is breathtaking. Every plant, flower, shrub, and tree is ideally planted. All shapes, colors, and sizes grow in harmony together creating a world of beauty. It is good and it is kept. For when the weeds break surface, the Gardner is there; when it is the season to prune, the Gardner is there; when water is scarce or the sun is hot and burning, the Gardner is there. For all things, He is there to meet every need to keep His garden healthy and growing.
What gentle hands of strength and love! I will grow toward Him; He is my light and my nourishment. I love Him because His love has saved me.
Surely roots dig deeper than the surface, thinks the little flower. Surely color is meant to be brilliant. Why can I not lift my head to search for light? My stem is weak and bent, my blossom droops, my nectar is dry, and my petals fall as tears on the dusty earth. Is this life?
There is a man watching this little flower. Who is He to care for the wilted and colorless? Trowel in hand, the man brushes aside the weeds, thistles, and thorns and begins to dig despite the blood that is drawn from his hands. A cool breeze blows through the darkness; the snakes slither away. He uproots the flower with a smile and gently places it in the pouch of His apron. Wiping the sweat from His brow, He begins to whistle a lively tune as if some victory had been won after a fierce battle.
He walks with purpose away from the dead garden and toward a greater land of heaven and earth. After traveling a distance, He kneels on the soft, plush ground of a garden filled with beauty and bells. He pulls out His trowel and begins to dig again. Carefully, He removes the flower from the cradle of His apron and places it in new soil, a new garden. There is instant stimulation as moist, fertile soil hugs the roots and covers the base of the flower. Its roots become alive drinking in health. The man pats the earth around the flower, still whistling, ensuring it is snug and safely planted.
What is this new energy racing through my veins? Oh, wait! What is this? Coolness! How refreshing is the fresh water He pours down rinsing away the dust and stain of darkness and decay. I am clean! Color is returning to my blossom and. . .there! There it is! The sun. I see it! I feel it! Shine down on me! I am reaching for you! May my face never be out of its sight. . or HIs. I see HIm smiling. Do I bring Him pleasure? There are so many other flowers in this garden of color and light. Do we all bring Him pleasure? We must. I can tell by the way He stands back and looks upon us with a grin of satisfaction after a job well done. This must be His garden.
There in the garden, the rolling color of life rings bells of freedom. The sound is glorious and the sight is breathtaking. Every plant, flower, shrub, and tree is ideally planted. All shapes, colors, and sizes grow in harmony together creating a world of beauty. It is good and it is kept. For when the weeds break surface, the Gardner is there; when it is the season to prune, the Gardner is there; when water is scarce or the sun is hot and burning, the Gardner is there. For all things, He is there to meet every need to keep His garden healthy and growing.
What gentle hands of strength and love! I will grow toward Him; He is my light and my nourishment. I love Him because His love has saved me.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Love's Response. . .
I had an amazing encounter with God that I've been waiting all week to share. National Fine Arts is NOT just for kids! I want to share a moment in God's love that demonstrates a growing union.
There is a special security and warmth from knowing you are loved. I don't mean from being liked or admired or desired. I mean loved, truly loved. We take this word for granted. In true love there is no fear. We read of this often enough from John (1 Jn 4:18). If you're like me, perhaps you've spent hours or even days meditating on the kind of love in which fear has no place. Is it possible to know this kind of love? Can our fragile hearts beating in desperate response to a war-torn world even comprehend it? Can our minds consumed with doubt ever receive it?
In this love, there is no fear of rejection or abandonment. It is a love so powerful and mighty that nothing can separate its union: neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom 8:38-39).
It is a consuming love: breath is lost by the magnanimity of God's grace! Words will always fail to describe the love of God. It cannot be spoken and understood. It can only be known in the intimate moments of silence when God speaks and we tremble. In this love, there is no doubt because there is assurance of His presence. It is more than a feeling. It is knowledge and it is trust! Cutting to the heart of trust, I wonder how we can ever doubt God, His will, our circumstance, our future, etc. How can we ever be anxious? How can we fear? His love is unfailing. I say that with excitement as much as I say it matter-of-factly. His love is unfailing. But alas! We are not. We are human and living in a world shrouded by doubt and fear. Yet, He never fails to remind us of His love. It is in all that He does and is echoed in the scriptures for those who are willing to see and receive.
God's love is a supernatural gift, one that comes at a great cost: life. You see, my friends, the purest love requires sacrifice--sacrifice of self. I started my journey a little over three years ago painfully pondering how love relates to sacrifice, specifically the greatest sacrifice. When God stilled the violence and fear of my mind, His love manifested in the beauty of the cross. "Do you see how much I love you?" I will treasure that moment when God first spoke. Ever since, my journey has been an awakening of God's unfailing love. The story I'm about to describe is a moment in time when His love was revealed. It has meaning only to me, but I hope that in sharing it will encourage the faith of others.
One week ago, God kissed my brow in the gentlest and most affirming love. I bow in reverence to His majesty and faithfulness. In fact, I am still in awe. In the beginning moments of our first National Fine Arts service, I found myself distracted, unable to focus, and therefore unable to rest in the presence of God. I knew what was happening as I'd been in that spiritually dark place before. I also knew the negative ramifications if this battle were lost, so I fought. I prayed to hear from God, to feel His embrace, and I asked Him a specific question. The question is not relevant, only that you know it was asked. It was an intentional process to regain focus through the service. We made it and I captured some valuable nuggets of wisdom. After the last worship song, before the house lights came up, a woman, a stranger to me, but not to God, approached. She grabbed both my shoulders, pulled me near, and whispered a word from the mouth of God. She spoke the answer to my question fulfilling my request. Again, the answer isn't relevant to this post for it is between Him and me. What is worthy of glory is the response of love. I'm not sure He revealed Himself because I needed Him to or even because I asked. He came because I trusted Him to come. I trusted His love for me. I silenced my soul and my mind and waited for Him. There was neither fear nor doubt because I’m known to Him and Him to me. Similarly, the stranger also demonstrated a measure of trust. What battle of fear did she undergo walking up to a stranger speaking words of little meaning? She trusted God for the meaning and was obedient to His direction. Perhaps in perfect love, there is no fear because there is trust.
This story is but a shadow at the feet of devotion. As I write this post, God has whispered a greater beauty into existence. The sweetest joy is not in the message He sent, though it is of significance to me personally. The greater victory is in the exchange itself, in the trust of a maturing relationship. Three years ago, God knocked (Rev 3:20). I cracked opened the door, peered around the edge, and witnessed the beauty of God. Yet, the chains on the door were thick and rusted. Fear kept God at arm’s length. Today, the chains are gone and the door is open. No longer is God standing on the threshold knocking to enter. No longer am I bound. He has come in and together we reside growing in unity and love. Together, we are overcoming fear and doubt--darkness dissipates as He takes over. Love’s greatest response: consummation, the fulfilling completion of God in us.
There is a special security and warmth from knowing you are loved. I don't mean from being liked or admired or desired. I mean loved, truly loved. We take this word for granted. In true love there is no fear. We read of this often enough from John (1 Jn 4:18). If you're like me, perhaps you've spent hours or even days meditating on the kind of love in which fear has no place. Is it possible to know this kind of love? Can our fragile hearts beating in desperate response to a war-torn world even comprehend it? Can our minds consumed with doubt ever receive it?
In this love, there is no fear of rejection or abandonment. It is a love so powerful and mighty that nothing can separate its union: neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom 8:38-39).
It is a consuming love: breath is lost by the magnanimity of God's grace! Words will always fail to describe the love of God. It cannot be spoken and understood. It can only be known in the intimate moments of silence when God speaks and we tremble. In this love, there is no doubt because there is assurance of His presence. It is more than a feeling. It is knowledge and it is trust! Cutting to the heart of trust, I wonder how we can ever doubt God, His will, our circumstance, our future, etc. How can we ever be anxious? How can we fear? His love is unfailing. I say that with excitement as much as I say it matter-of-factly. His love is unfailing. But alas! We are not. We are human and living in a world shrouded by doubt and fear. Yet, He never fails to remind us of His love. It is in all that He does and is echoed in the scriptures for those who are willing to see and receive.
God's love is a supernatural gift, one that comes at a great cost: life. You see, my friends, the purest love requires sacrifice--sacrifice of self. I started my journey a little over three years ago painfully pondering how love relates to sacrifice, specifically the greatest sacrifice. When God stilled the violence and fear of my mind, His love manifested in the beauty of the cross. "Do you see how much I love you?" I will treasure that moment when God first spoke. Ever since, my journey has been an awakening of God's unfailing love. The story I'm about to describe is a moment in time when His love was revealed. It has meaning only to me, but I hope that in sharing it will encourage the faith of others.
One week ago, God kissed my brow in the gentlest and most affirming love. I bow in reverence to His majesty and faithfulness. In fact, I am still in awe. In the beginning moments of our first National Fine Arts service, I found myself distracted, unable to focus, and therefore unable to rest in the presence of God. I knew what was happening as I'd been in that spiritually dark place before. I also knew the negative ramifications if this battle were lost, so I fought. I prayed to hear from God, to feel His embrace, and I asked Him a specific question. The question is not relevant, only that you know it was asked. It was an intentional process to regain focus through the service. We made it and I captured some valuable nuggets of wisdom. After the last worship song, before the house lights came up, a woman, a stranger to me, but not to God, approached. She grabbed both my shoulders, pulled me near, and whispered a word from the mouth of God. She spoke the answer to my question fulfilling my request. Again, the answer isn't relevant to this post for it is between Him and me. What is worthy of glory is the response of love. I'm not sure He revealed Himself because I needed Him to or even because I asked. He came because I trusted Him to come. I trusted His love for me. I silenced my soul and my mind and waited for Him. There was neither fear nor doubt because I’m known to Him and Him to me. Similarly, the stranger also demonstrated a measure of trust. What battle of fear did she undergo walking up to a stranger speaking words of little meaning? She trusted God for the meaning and was obedient to His direction. Perhaps in perfect love, there is no fear because there is trust.
This story is but a shadow at the feet of devotion. As I write this post, God has whispered a greater beauty into existence. The sweetest joy is not in the message He sent, though it is of significance to me personally. The greater victory is in the exchange itself, in the trust of a maturing relationship. Three years ago, God knocked (Rev 3:20). I cracked opened the door, peered around the edge, and witnessed the beauty of God. Yet, the chains on the door were thick and rusted. Fear kept God at arm’s length. Today, the chains are gone and the door is open. No longer is God standing on the threshold knocking to enter. No longer am I bound. He has come in and together we reside growing in unity and love. Together, we are overcoming fear and doubt--darkness dissipates as He takes over. Love’s greatest response: consummation, the fulfilling completion of God in us.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Reckless
Though I'm no longer in Nepal (physically), I'd like to continue this blog as a record of God's love and majesty in my life and as He reveals Himself through mortal eyes. One of God's greatest gifts to His children is His story in our lives. His glory is meant to be shared so that we may never forget His love! We are His witnesses, after all. Let us testify of His beauty in this world.
Shortly after returning from Nepal, I repacked and headed out to Orlando for the AG National Fine Arts with 15 of our students and 5 other leaders and chaperones. It is a blessing to witness thousands of students deploy their gifts for God and run after Him in desperate faith. Not all are desperate, but there are many. Students have a different passion for God, perhaps it is only in their expression. Regardless, I'm not sure I can describe it beyond reckless. Use of this word is not meant to have a negative connotation. You would have to see their faces, their tears, their bodies trembling as they cry out and fall to their knees in order to truly grasp the meaning of reckless in the presence of God. Concern for what the world might think of the desperation of their worship vanishes. You can almost see the cares and circumstances fall away from their shoulders as their eyes open to their heart's desire--their Savior. If only we all sought God with a similar recklessness! What would we see? What mysteries would God reveal?
Sadly, there are also many who huddle in a false sense of safety gripping their worries with fierce determination. My heart cries out to these students but I also rejoice for them in their struggle! This is the journey to freedom for each follower of Jesus as we learn to lay down ourselves and embrace the magnitude of the Christ. It is a struggle of great intensity and great beauty.
Pray for our students! Pray for their experience with God--not just for today, but for life.
Shortly after returning from Nepal, I repacked and headed out to Orlando for the AG National Fine Arts with 15 of our students and 5 other leaders and chaperones. It is a blessing to witness thousands of students deploy their gifts for God and run after Him in desperate faith. Not all are desperate, but there are many. Students have a different passion for God, perhaps it is only in their expression. Regardless, I'm not sure I can describe it beyond reckless. Use of this word is not meant to have a negative connotation. You would have to see their faces, their tears, their bodies trembling as they cry out and fall to their knees in order to truly grasp the meaning of reckless in the presence of God. Concern for what the world might think of the desperation of their worship vanishes. You can almost see the cares and circumstances fall away from their shoulders as their eyes open to their heart's desire--their Savior. If only we all sought God with a similar recklessness! What would we see? What mysteries would God reveal?
Sadly, there are also many who huddle in a false sense of safety gripping their worries with fierce determination. My heart cries out to these students but I also rejoice for them in their struggle! This is the journey to freedom for each follower of Jesus as we learn to lay down ourselves and embrace the magnitude of the Christ. It is a struggle of great intensity and great beauty.
Pray for our students! Pray for their experience with God--not just for today, but for life.
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