The Here & Now

I roll out of bed this morning early and we make a special birthday breakfast for my mom. I am already all gloriously-happy from sweet time with family and cinnamon rolls and strawberries when I open the window and discover that today is the perfect bike-riding day. So after the dishes are done I'm out the door pedaling along the path I've pedaled so many times before. Yet today is especially glorious: and I can't help noticing little intricacies I too often miss: the way spring-morning air smells like roses, and how fluffy white clouds make delicate curlycues in bright blue sky, and the little flutterings of tiny yellow godfinch in a pink-blossom rose bush. And I smile the whole ride, thank my Jesus for these little blessings.

Suddenly I remember something, something rather absent-mindedly forgotten in the midst of birthday-celebrating and blessing-counting: Today is Memorial Day.

And in the midst of rose-smell and blue sky and yellow birds, I stop smiling. Men, young men, are fighting right now. Dying for me. Dying so I can have this bike ride. So I can notice flowers. So I can live life free.

Suddenly, I feel ashamed of my joy, of my happy little bike ride. Joy, yes, easy for me today, girl living in wealthy America, free to spend her day as she chooses, to spend her life as she chooses. Girl whose worst problems are stress and arguments. But if I lived as those men, soldiers, do? A world where daily I must watch my friends, brothers, die around me? A world where I must kill another woman's brother, friend, husband? Could I possibly be joyful, find blessings, then?

I, fragile girl, girl who can't bear to watch her dog get a shot at the vet, who gets queasy at the site of roller coasters, whose knees shake every time she gives a speech, joy might be difficult there, on a battlefield.

This answer, my own fragility in joy, dismays me. My own struggle to find joy seems so childlike in comparison to the quest others must make.

Yet, I realize something. Because this world is broken, full of sorrow and death, should I be broken also? My Jesus commands joy, and this joy, joy in my Savior, is what will heal a broken world, not more brokenness.

Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn’t rescue the suffering. The converse does. The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest Light to all the world.

~Ann Voskamp, One Thousand Gifts (page 58)

 This is my Here and Now, a world of bike rides and freedom and flowers. What an incredible gift, to be able to learn joy here. My task is to be faithful here, to practice joy daily. And through this, my Jesus will prepare my heart for joy in a world of bigger brokenness, a world where fragile me is at the end of herself. I trust in His promise to prepare the hearts of those faithful in small tasks:

You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. ~Mathew 25:21

My job is the Here and Now.

Eyes wide open

*This post was inspired by probably the most beautiful book I've ever read, Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts, which I just finished reading*

Today, I wake smiling. The sweet chirping of birds drifts through my window, I read a chapter of Lord of the Rings while I eat the parfait-and-toast breakfast my sweet momma prepared for me,  I plant little pink Impatiens, cool brown earth on my fingers, and wind through my hair. I wear my favorite shirt, look forward to a weekend up north with family….Today, joy is easy to find, always waiting for me.

Today, I want to live long. I write Bucket Lists, laid carefully on my desk. Ride a gondola in Venice, see the Eifel Tower…there is so much I want to do, so many things to see.

Today, I get to live.

Isn’t that enough to inspire joy in me?

Yet ever the  daily struggle of Now, not often as joy-filled as today….Now where I can’t see beauty, only unfinished schoolwork, high school drama, petty conflicts….and too often I wake frowning, dreading the day to come. Now where mommas in Africa watch their babies starve to death, where little children are abused, where fathers with many mouths to feed die from cancer. Now where often, all I can see is life’s disappointments.

In Philippians 4:11-12, Paul writes, “I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything.  I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little.” Joy is not just something we find on good days. Joy, thankfulness, must be learned, practiced, daily, in the good and the bad, in the disappointments.

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?
~GK Chesterton

This living, this is grace. Why do I feel I must see the splendor of Venice and Paris to fully grasp the world’s magnificence? His grace is here, now, in little pink Impatients and a momma humbly serving. In receiving another day to live! I am still learning to recognize grace, to feel joy, on days without flowers and favorite shirts. On days of clouds and arguments and stress. He is always God, and isn’t His grace also evident in chances of new mercies and the healing of brokenness?

All is grace. Praying without ceasing is praying with eyes wide open, looking for this grace, thanking Him for it. Won't you join me, with eyes open wide?

A Trail of Blood

My heart thuds and my palms fill with sweat as I sit on the hard church pew, watching a video about Sarah, the editor of a Chinese Christian newspaper. One night, soldiers seize Sarah from her home, drag her to an abandoned warehouse, and beat her severely. While Sarah screams in agony, the soldiers mercilessly burn her with a cigarette butt and force her to spend the night in chains, shuffling around the warehouse, leaving behind a trail of blood. Sarah endures six years of imprisonment in a dark and lonely cell, forced to manufacture American Christmas tree lights, “Christian” baubles made by a persecuted Christian.

In America, we joyfully string Sarah’s lights on our trees to celebrate Christ’s birth. In China, Sarah sits in a lonely prison cell, humbly thanking her Savior for leaving a trail of blood, much like her own, on His way to die on the cross.

This is the kind of faith I want. The kind of faith that astonisheds people: “Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus” (Acts 4:13).

Yet how often do I hesitate to share the gospel with my friends, for fear they’ll think less of me? And how often would I rather sleep in an hour later than get up to read my Bible? And how often do I want to stay home and finish my homework rather than go to youth group?

In myself, I can’t live a Sarah kind of life. In myself, I don’t have the strength to endure such pain and still praise God. And in myself, I certainly can’t astonish people with my boldness. Yet:

It really is an astounding truth that the Spirit of Him who raised us from the dead lives in you. He lives in me. I do not know what the Spirit will do or where He’ll lead me each time I invite Him to guide me. But I am tired of living in a way that looks exactly like people who do not have the Holy Spirit of God living in them. I want to consistently live with an awareness of His strength. I want to be different today from what I was yesterday as the fruit of the Spirit becomes more manifest in me.

~Francis Chan, Forgotten God

God lives in us!! You and I probably won’t be seized from our homes tonight and brutally tortured. Yet, shouldn’t people be astounded by evidence of the Spirit in Christians,  not just when we make trails of blood on warehouse floors, but when we make history projects or make dinner?  

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought with a price” (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

[Sarah's video--Disclaimer: this is an incredibly poignant video, but if you watch it, prepare to be horrified at the hideous torture this brave young woman endures. ]

Stuck in the small stuff

I haven't blogged in over a month. Mostly because I've been spending way too much time sitting at my desk, hunched over textbooks and Word documents. Sometimes I think school is overtaking me.

In my morning quiet time with God, I say, "I'm going to do better today, Lord. I'm going to rest in You, serve you, build my day around You."

But then the day starts, and there's synthesis essays to be written, government exams to be studied for, piano sonatas to be learned, solo and ensemble practices to attend, lessons to be taught, and French words to be memorized. And I think, How can I rest in God when I can barely rest long enough to eat dinner with my family? And how can I serve Him when I can't find the time to help make lunch? And how can I build my day around Him when my schedule is filled from the moment I wake up til the moment I go to sleep?

I start getting discouraged, thinking this life is a milisecond compared to eternity, and wondering, "will getting an A on my synthesis essay really matter in eternity, or even next year?"

Last night at youth group, we watched an amazing Francis Chan Bible study lesson about being missionaries. Sometimes, we think we have to do big things, like travelling Africa to serve orphans, to be missionaries for God. But as followers of God, when we surrender each day to Him, we can be missionaries right where we are, in whatever we're doing. I want to wake up each morning and say, "God, thank You for this day. Thank you for the opportunity to learn, for the opportunity to sing, for the opportunity to teach. Help me to do EVERYTHING in this day to Your glory." Right now, in the last few weeks before school ends, I can worship Him by taking advantage of the education He's given me, doing my best work, and being well-prepared to do whatever He has for me later in life. I can worship Him by encouraging my students and instilling in them a joy of learning music. I can worship Him in every note I sing. I can worship Him by expressing my gratitude to my teachers and my family. These aren't big acts of service, but if I do them with a heart surrendered to Him, a heart resting in His joy, they're still worship to Him.

I've always been ambitious to a fault, and it's hard for me not to be able to do something "big" for God right now. But for me right now, surrendering to Him in the small things is big.

God has a purpose for each of us, every day. For some people today, that purpose is serving orphans in Africa. For others, it's showing God's love to their children and their co-workers. For me, it's writing every synthesis essay, teaching every piano lesson, singing every song for His glory. How awesome to be able to worship the King of the Universe today, in those little things?!

"Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." ~ 1 Cor. 10:31

Jars of Clay

[Disclaimers--First, No, this post is not about "Jars of Clay" the band. Although their music is quite epic and I strongly suggest you listen to it :). Second, it was inspired by my LifeChange: 2 Tim. Bible study and the final quote is from my Life Application Bible :)]

“In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble puposes and some ignoble. If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes. Made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.” ~ 2 Timothy 2: 20-21

We are jars of clay. Sinful and imperfect vessels. Yet the King of the Universe desires to use us for His purposes. Isn’t it awesome to think that Jesus can use our lives—and use them for something truly unbelievable, beyond ourselves?!

                             Google Images

As overjoyed as we should be to allow God to use us for his purposes, sometimes we nurture attitudes that stymie the work of God's grace in us. For example:

-Trying to be justified by the law (Galations 5:4). Aka self-righteousness….thinking ourselves or something other than God's saving grace can make us right in God’s sight.
-Timidity (Hebrews 4:6). Doubting God can work through us.
-Pride (1 Peter 5:5). Trying to do things our own way, instead of surrendering to His Spirit.

Yes, these attitudes seem self-centered, but also painfully familiar. I can make myself right. I don't think God can work through me. I can fix this better than God can.

But doesn't it seem like the only appropriate response to God’s working in us is the opposite of self-centerdness--humility? Shouldn’t the knowledge of His work in us bring us to our knees and make us say, “Do whatever you want in me and through me, Lord”? Yet, unfortunately, sometimes God-centeredness is oh-so-much harder than it sounds.  

Now, sometimes (or shall we say often?) I struggle with pride (see my post, A Color-Coded Life). And as much as I prefer to call it independence, or efficiency, or something to that effect, that's really quite inaccurately euphemistic. I try to do things on my own, convincing myself that my planning or organization or color-codedness will fix all my problems. Yet somehow that never really works for me. It's when I come to the end of myself and realize I do a sloppy job of making myself right and I surrender to Jesus that things really start changing. In fact, when I surrender things to Him, they start becoming really and truly beautiful and working out in ways beyond what I could have imagined. How awesome to think that when I surrender to Him, He can use me, this cracked and flawed jar of clay, for glorious purposes, too.

"We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves." ~ 2 Corinthians 4:7

As one of my all-time favorite verses (Ps. 18:35) says, "You stoop down to make me great!" How awesome is that?! The focus is not on the perishable container, but on its priceless contents.

 

You Take My Breath Away

Recently I was talking to a friend who grew up in a Christian family but had wandered down a very wrong path for several years. He said the reason he didn’t come back to God sooner was because he was afraid God wouldn’t forgive him for all the terrible things he’d done. But I love what he said about why he eventually returned to God: "I read that verse about God removing our sins from us as far as the east as from the west, and I realized, once you start going east, you just keep going! You never start going west. I realized God just loves me for me.” Our Savior loves us for us. How awesome is that?! His love is infinite, not dependedent on anything we've done or haven't done. The King of the universe looks at us and sees His beautiful creations, His children, His friends.

Sometimes I think, having grown up a Christian family and heard the doctrine of God’s love and forgiveness so often, I've lost a little bit of the absolute awe that His love should instill in me. His love is so much more than anything this world has to offer. His love should take my breath away, it is so incredibly, unimaginably beautiful that when God looks at me He sees His pure and spotless Son Jesus, not all the junk and sin in my life.

I want to have this love of Jesus. I want to look at people and not see their ourtward appearance or their accomplishments or their faults. I want to see a child infinitely loved by God.  

     I am the thorn in Your crown
But You love me anyway
I am the sweat from Your brow
But You love me anyway
I am the nail in Your wrist
But You love me anyway
I am Judas’ kiss
But You love me anyway

  "You Love Me Anyway" Sidewalk Prophets (my all-time favorite song :)

Official "You are More" music video

Live Like That

Sometimes I think
What will people say of me
When I'm only just a memory
When I'm home where my soul belongs

Was I love
When no one else would show up
Was I Jesus to the least of those
Was my worship more than just a song

I want to live like that

Am I proof
That You are who you say You are
That grace can really change a heart
Do I live like Your love is true

People pass
And even if they don't know my name
Is there evidence that I've been changed
When they see me, do they see You

I want to live like that

I want to show the world the love You gave for me
I'm longing for the world to know the glory of the King

I want to live like that
And give it all I have
So that everything I say and do
Points to You

If love is who I am
Then this is where I'll stand
Recklessly abandoned
Never holding back

I want to live like that

~"Live Like That," Sidewalk Prophets

 I've always been ambitious. For as long as I can remember, I've been coming up with various business ventures (before I was ten I'd attempted to open a dog grooming shop, start an ice cream truck, and buy a patent for the vacuum cleaner), and I told my mom recently that I don't know what it feels like to be bored--she confirmed that even as a little girl I could always find something to do. Planning events, working to achieve academic success, trying to invent an instant-sunscreen machine--I am always aiming at something, for better or for worse.

I want to be this intense about my walk with Christ. I want to wake up every morning and say, "Okay, God, I know I'm alive today because You have a specific purpose for me, and I'm determined to fulfill it to the best of my abilities." Yet too often, I get so swept up in my own agenda and my own immediate results that I neglect the far greater purpose laid out for me. How incredible is it to know that the God of the Universe wants to use me today?! My day and my life should be centered on fulfilling the work He's laid out for me.

Recently I've been studying 2 Timothy with my Bible study group, and we learned that we must be prepared to preach the gospel "in season and out of season" (4:2). What a great reminder that we can serve God in any circumstance, day in and day out. After the newly saved Chuck Colson was sentenced to prison for his involvement in Watergate, he said, "What happened in court today was the court's will and the Lord's will--I have committed my life to Jesus Christ and I can work for Him in prison as well as out." After several months of seeing God work through him in prison, Colson prayed, "Lord, if this is what it is all about, then I thank You. I praise You for leaving me in prison, for letting them take away my license to practice law, yes--even for my son being arrested. I praise You for giving me Your love through these men, for being God, for just letting me walk with Jesus." This is surrender. Freedom in the midst of prison. Joy in the midst of pain. Realizing God can use you anywhere.

I want to live like that.