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03/30/2011

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Paradoxes and Mysteries

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God is Weak?

“God is weak. And for this reason I love Him.”

I stared at my friend. Blinked a couple of times. Maybe his English was failing him because I had certainly never thought of God as being weak. “What exactly do you mean?” I pressed.

With a little further explanation I came to realize that he meant exactly what he said. God is weak. He is weak because His love makes Him vulnerable.  He is weak because His creation is capable of breaking His heart. And for this reason I love Him.

I’d never really considered it a weakness, but I’m familiar with the depths of God’s sacrificial love. I know that nothing else would compel Him to endure the cross for me. And I know it didn’t stop at the cross.

God cares so deeply about every little detail of my life that He grieves when I grieve. When Lazarus died and the family was in mourning, what did Jesus do? He wept. He cried right along with those who were hurting. And I’m fully convinced that He was hurting too.

I grew up knowing that Jesus loves me – that He catches every fallen tear and knows the number of hairs on my head. I was raised with a God who loves. The god my friend once served was quite different. It was because of his experience with a god who lords his power over his creation that my friend found himself attracted to God’s vulnerability. This is why he could look me in the eye and say, “God is weak. And for this reason I love Him.”

I serve a God who concerns Himself with sparrows just so He can say that I’m worth much more than them. I serve a God who loves with such fierce passion that He is moved to tears. I serve a God who would give His life as a ransom for many, even knowing that the majority would reject Him in the end. For this reason, He may be considered weak; but it is for this reason I love Him.

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03/12/2011

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Embrace Truth

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You are Enough

Identity. That word is such a huge deal in our culture. It seems that everyone is out to “find themselves” nowadays. I’m not entirely sure what that statement fully means, but I do understand the delicate dance of trying to find your place in the world. But when it comes to identity, I think we place too much value in who other people say we are or say we should be.

In the movie What a Girl Wants, seventeen-year-old Daphne Reynolds dreams of meeting the father she has never known. She tells her mother, “I feel like a part of me is missing, and without the other half, how am I supposed to know who I really am?” Ironically, in Daphne’s desperate quest to “find herself”, she nearly loses herself as she squelches her wild, carefree personality in order to fit in with her dad’s traditional world. My heart always cheers her on as she looks her father in the eye and says, “You know what I miss now? I miss being me. I’ve finally realized that that is enough.”

Being the person you are is all you have to be. It’s enough. Even when people tell you that you’ll never amount to anything. Even when you’ve failed for the hundredth time. You don’t have to adopt the dreams the world tries to shove down your throat; all you have to do is pursue the dreams God has given you.

God is the only One whose opinion really matters because He’s the One who holds firm your true identity. Isaiah 49:16 says, “See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands…” He bears the scars of a man who was crucified because it reminds Him of you and the sacrifice He had to pay in order to restore you to Himself.  If you want to know who you are, you don’t have to fly halfway across the world. All you have to do is look up into the eyes of the One who calls you His beloved. Let Him tell you who you truly are. He’ll tell you that you are you. Exactly as He created you to be. And that, my friend, is enough.

You’ve written my name on the palm of Your hand, but until you revealed it to me, I had no idea it so closely resembled a nail-shaped scar…


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03/08/2011

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Waiting…

The three children bounced on the trampoline, shouting at the ground beneath them. “You can’t hurt us, Satan! God is going to beat you up!”

The youngest of them chimed in. “He would right now, but He’s busy.”

“No, He’s not busy,” her older counterpart corrected. “He’s just waiting.”

Waiting. God is waiting. I wonder what it is He’s waiting for. Why doesn’t He intervene when evil triumphs in our world? Why doesn’t He put an end to the suffering in our midst? Why doesn’t He hurry to vanquish Satan forever? Why does He wait? And why does He insist on making me wait with Him?

I think that’s our biggest problem with God’s periods of waiting. We’re so anxious to rush into things that it bothers us to wait with God. We start to think that if God called us to something, things should start happening now. But still, God waits.

Do you ever think that perhaps God is waiting for you? Do you ever wonder if the reason nothing is happening might be because you haven’t taken the steps to make it happen? I could say that whatever God waits for is really none of my concern… unless He is waiting for me.

Nothing happens on its own. God usually doesn’t drop things into our laps unless we are actively pursuing His will. Once you start moving in the right direction, God no longer has to wait. But if He waits for you and you wait for Him, your dreams will wait along with you.

For this reason, I choose to move Beyond Waiting. I choose to step out into the unknown, believing that God will clear a path before me.

He’s just waiting… But not for long.

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02/23/2011

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Live the Journey

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Lord of the Dance

It all started when I read Shannon Kubiak’s The Divine Dance. This picture of dancing hand-in-hand with Jesus quickly worked its way into my heart, and my relationship with the Maker has never been the same.

Two years ago, I discovered “our song”. The first time I danced to the tune of Lord of the Dance, a picture formed in my mind. In the opening notes, I hear God calling me. As the tempo picks up, it’s like I’m coming alive. And before I know it, I’m spinning wildly in circles, giggling with delight. By the end of the dance, I’m completely out of breath and totally in awe of the greatness of my God.

The amazing thing is, when that song starts playing, I almost literally cannot keep from dancing. Last night, I was immersed in a project that required all of my focus. I had my iTunes playing in the background, but I hardly even heard it. That is… until our song came on.

My head jerked up, and my pencil fell from my hand. A smile crept across my face as I realized He was calling me. So I stepped into the empty kitchen and began to dance. With my heart racing and head spinning, I was caught in the glorious thrill of twirling in my Savior’s arms. When the music finally stopped, I fell back against the counter panting for breath. It was one of the most amazing moments I’ve had in far too long a time.

Jesus is real. Jesus is intimate. Jesus is extending His hand, inviting you into the dance of a lifetime. So what are you waiting for? Can’t you hear the song that plays in the deepest depths of your soul? I pray you won’t be able to deny His call… Arise, beloved, and dance.

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02/19/2011

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I HATE Everything

A friend of mine was telling me about this book she read called I Hate Everything. Sounds like a depressing book, I know. Perhaps if the book cover weren’t decorated with rainbows, unicorns, and penguins, you might actually think the book is dark. In all actuality, Matthew DiBenedetti’s humorous “hatred” of everything brought a little light to my day. But while fun little phrases such as, “I hate that I’m going bald. I hate that I still make fun of bald people. I hate karma.” may be fun, there are a few things I seriously hate. Here are a few:

I HATE that an estimated 2.5 million children are trapped in sexual slavery. I HATE that there isn’t anything I can do about it. I HATE that I’m getting sick just thinking about it.

I HATE that 22% of pregnancies in the U.S. end in abortion. I HATE that there are 22% less people in the world because of it. I HATE that unborn babies don’t have rights in this country.

I HATE that 50% of American marriages end in divorce. I HATE that I’ve had to suffer the consequences of many of those divorces. I HATE that wedding vows don’t mean anything anymore.

I HATE that people tend to get upset over bad haircuts and broken nails more often than the above statistics. I HATE how easy it is for these statistics to become a number rather than a living, breathing human being. I HATE that I’m not moved to mourn over injustice more often.

I HATE that you may have read this blog and not been moved to tears. I HATE that I’m not moved to tears right now. I HATE that our world has become such a dark place that statistics like these aren’t shocking.

But I LOVE that God is big enough to wipe all these tears and drown out all the hate in my life.

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02/02/2011

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Paradoxes and Mysteries

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A God Who Says “Come”

I was always the kind of babysitter who was right in the middle of all the action. I considered my job to be not just watching the kids, but entertaining them as well. I bounced up and down on the trampoline, dressed in all kinds of get-ups, and danced around to the High School Musical soundtrack (which I probably have memorized by now, though I’ve only seen the actual movie once). I have the same approach with the youth group I now help with. I figure that the best way to encourage group participation is not to say, “go,” but “come.”

Let me tell you, I’m glad I serve the kind of God who says, “Come.” What a comfort it is to know that when God calls me to step out, He is not asking me to go alone; He’s inviting me to join Him on the adventure of a lifetime.

“Rebekah,” He says. “Come to Virginia with Me. Leave behind the home you’ve always known, and embark on this amazing journey alongside Me.” And though I told all my friends I was going to Virginia, I was truly following my Beloved into the great unknown.

It was frightening at first, to leave everything I’d ever known and follow God to this place. It’s always a little unnerving when He first guides me into something new. And if He had called me to “go”, it would perhaps have been impossible; but as I’ve already said, my God calls me to “Come” (which is much easier.)

So I encourage you to not be afraid to accept His outstretched hand. The place to where He calls you is not as frightening as it may seem. Not when the Author of Life stands by your side. The next time you hear Him calling,  don’t hesitate,  and don’t turn away. “My child,” He whispers, “Come.”

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11/01/2010

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Paradoxes and Mysteries

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Stories

In the words of one of my favorite authors: “I love how irreverent Jesus is in His stories. He compared Himself to a chicken, the coming of God’s Kingdom to a robber breaking into your house, God’s message of hope to an uncorked bottle of wine, and prayer to a nagging neighbor hungry for a sandwich at midnight. According to Jesus, we can learn about God’s Kingdom from eccentric landowners, dishonest managers, idiots who built condos on quicksand, demon-possessed do-gooders, a warm loaf of bread, a field full of weeds, and a little kid tugging at your pants leg asking you to come outside and play. The Kingdom of Heaven unfurled from His lips in story after story after story.”

On that note, let me tell you a story…

Her name was Lily and she was absolutely adorable. I sat, watching her play happily in the nursery. At one point, she leaned into a toy box to get something. As she leaned farther and farther in, it became apparent to me that she was going to crack her head on the table when she stood back up. I jumped to my feet, hoping to slide my hand into a position that would cushion the impact. “Lily, wait. Don’t stand up or you’ll get…”

CRACK!

“Hurt,” I winced, wishing I had moved more quickly. “Owie,” I said, placing my hand on her head. “Lily, honey, are you alright?”

At first I thought she would fall into my arms or maybe run to her mother for comfort. For a moment I even thought that she would brush it off like nothing had even happened. What I wasn’t expecting was the look of betrayal that crossed her face as she glared at me accusingly. One second of looking into those angry blue eyes was enough to tell me that she thought I was the source of her pain. Her nineteen-month-old brain couldn’t comprehend that her pain had been caused by her own mistake.

She screamed and ran to her grandma, and I briefly explained what had happened. At that moment, her father walked up, egging her on. “Aw,” he cooed. “What did that mean girl do to you? Did she hurt you? Rebekah’s so bad. Poor Lily.”

As she buried her face in her father’s shoulder, I stood in the nursery, hoping she would eventually forgive me for the pain I had tried to prevent.

I think it is somewhat humorous (albeit ironic) that we so often ignore God’s voice as He warns us to stop and then we blame Him for our pain. “Why did you let this happen?” we cry as if He had not tried to prevent it. And when we remember His words of warning, we act as though we never heard them as we cry to our friends, “I don’t know why this happened.”

Don’t you? Didn’t you hear His voice as He gently called, “My child, don’t do that. You’ll only get… Hurt.” But we bury ourselves in our pain and leave Him hoping we will turn back into His arms. We’re mad at Him for our own refusal to listen. ”Wait just a moment,” He warned. Had we obeyed, He would have softened the blow. But we didn’t listen. And now it hurts.

But maybe, for once, we should stop trying so hard to blame God and turn into His comforting embrace instead. Maybe it is time to fall into His loving arms and let Him chase away the tears as He whispers, “It is okay now, beloved. I’m here.” Maybe, just maybe, He should be the One we run to rather than the One from which we run. Maybe this time, we should give Him a chance to soothe away the pain we have inflicted upon ourselves.

Don’t run away. Fall into His arms today.

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10/23/2010

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Live the Journey

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Before You Make Him Mine

It has been over ten months since I’ve prayed a heartfelt, in-depth prayer for my future husband. That may seem crazy to you as it does seem to go against every book you’ll find on waiting for Prince Charming. I thought I was crazy myself, at first. But it can’t be any more crazy than how crazy I felt back when I was faithfully praying for my knight in shining armor. I didn’t stop praying because I got the impression that the man I will one day marry is above falling, but because I know how prone I am to fall myself. When I was consistently praying for my future husband, I was constantly thinking about him. And because I thought of him so often, I got to a point where I wasn’t content with living without him. That’s why I dropped the specific prayers. That’s why I shredded the list of things I wanted in a husband. Maybe it’s the novelist in me, but when I write a guy out on paper, he becomes real and eventually becomes all I think about. But he shouldn’t be all I think about during this stage of my life.  That’s why when it comes to this delicate subject of waiting, I decided to, well, stop waiting. If I’m going to live in this moment here and now, I can’t be dwelling on a future with him.

I told my mom that she is simply going to have to pray twice as hard because I can’t offer those deep, intercessory prayers that I’ve been advised to pray. I find them to be detrimental to my emotional health. Yes, I have those moments like the one I had ten months ago. Sometimes I get the compelling urge to pour my heart out in prayer for this man I have yet to know. I don’t ignore those urges. In those types of moments, I pray long and hard. But as far as the daily moments when I find my mind turning to thoughts of Prince Charming, I offer this simple prayer: “God, make him the man You want him to be before You make him mine.”

That’s it. I think it pretty much covers all of the basics. God knows the heart behind that simple prayer. He knows what it truly means. He knows that it is so much more than that simple statement. He knows that, truly, it’s a repeat of the much longer, specific prayer I prayed ten months ago. When I whisper that one simple line, I believe God hears the 28 other lines I had penned leading up to that closing statement. And because I know He hears the words I choose to leave unspoken, the thought of “happily ever after” drifts from my mind as quickly as it came and I am free to embrace the moment that has been handed to me here and now.

This is how I’ve been able to dance through the moments of my life as a single girl. It works for me. And it may work for you. Then again, it may not. After all, dreaming up a list of who I thought my future husband should be certainly didn’t work for me. But if you’re really struggling with the fantasy playing on repeat in your mind, I’d encourage you to give it a try. Shred your list, quiet your mind, and whisper these words:

“God, make him the man You want him to be before You make him mine.”

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10/21/2010

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Fairytale Fallacies

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And God Saw That It Was Good. Period.

I was babysitting a six-year-old girl one day and she told me that we were going to play make-believe. “I get to be the princess,” she declared, “because I have blond hair.” I’m sorry, what? Where did that come from? I figure she adopted her narrow-minded view of hair color from Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Barbie, and the like.

What kind of world do we live in to think that a girl becomes a princess based on the color of her hair? It makes me wonder where our culture’s standard of beauty comes from. The thing I find most interesting is how quickly it changes. Way back in the day, women hid themselves away from the sun in attempt to maintain their fair complexion. Today, you can get laughed at for being “too white.”

What sort of people are we that we could condense beauty to a hair color, skin complexion, or pant size? Where do we get the idea that we have the right to declare a portion of God’s creation as better than the rest? The Bible says that God created everything and saw that it was good. What it does not say is, “God created a size fourteen, average looking woman with brown hair and dull brown eyes, and said that it was good. Then he created a size zero, stunningly attractive blond with sparkling blue eyes and said that she was better.” Go ahead and search your Bible from cover to cover. You won’t find it in there. There is no better or best. God saw that it was good. Period.

I don’t know who the first woman to buy into the comparison game was, but it has been haunting women of every generation for hundreds and thousands of years. We start to think things like, “I wish I had her eyes, her hair, and her smile,” and, “Maybe if I had a figure like so-and-so’s… Yeah, I think I would look better if I just lost ten more pounds.”

I once heard someone say that if you are going to compare yourself to someone, you should compare yourself to your cousins, as they are the people you are genetically programmed to look more like. I think the point they were trying to make is that you shouldn’t obsess over looking like digitally tweaked models in magazines, but what this person failed to consider is that someone has to be the cousin of the models in those magazines. Take it from the girl whose cousins look like they could be the models in those magazines: Comparing yourself to anyone (even/especially family members) is a bad idea.

The point is, God created you and He said that you look good. Period. You are His carefully crafted masterpiece, and He thinks that you’re breathtakingly gorgeous. It doesn’t matter that you think your nose is a little too pointed and your butt is a little too large. When God looks at you, He sees perfection. He sees all the concentration He put into forming you. He sees the divine purpose for which He created you.

Psalm 45:11 tells us, “The king is enthralled by your beauty: honor him, for he is your lord.” In other words, God thinks you’re gorgeous. Stop saying that the way God formed you isn’t good enough because it is more than good enough. This is the God who created the sun and the moon and the trees and the clouds. Everything He makes is perfect – without flaw. Just like Song of Solomon 4:7 where He declares, “All beautiful you are, my darling, there is no flaw in you.” God made you beautiful. Period. No amount of any culture’s lies can change the fact that you are His creation. God delights in you just the way you are. No if’s, and’s, or but’s. When insecurities threaten to resurface, just remember that God looked down from on high and saw that you look good. Period.  

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10/19/2010

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Ask Me About SAM

The ministry I work with designed these buttons as a conversation starter that would help us encourage people to “Sponsor a Missionary,” but today I sported this button for an entirely different reason. I wore it to remind myself to pray for a young man named Sam.

You see, Sam went rock-climbing with his sister yesterday and fell forty feet into shallow water. He tumbled over the rocks before bouncing off his kayak into the water. Had he not been slowed down by the kayak, he almost certainly would have died when he collided with the razor-sharp rocks hidden under the surface of the river. Right now, Sam is in the hospital with several stitches, staples, bruises, and broken bones. Today, he underwent several x-rays to see just how bad his internal damage is. It will be a long road to recovery, but he is, by the grace of God, alive.

So today, if you ask me about Sam, I’ll tell you that Sam is a miraculous reminder of God’s goodness and grace. According to the rescue squad, he should have died. Had that kayak been floating just a foot away from where he landed, Sam would have died. Had God’s hand been anywhere other than that exact location, Sam never would have awakened to his sister’s desperate cries. To me, Sam serves as a chilling reminder of how fragile life truly is. The words of my friend echo in my mind: “I saw him the night before this happened. We were being all sarcastic and joking like always. To realize it might have been our last time together… It just makes you think.”

The thing that strikes me is that this isn’t the first time I’ve seen God miraculously intervene in an impossible situation. I’ve actually looked into the eyes of a person who shouldn’t be alive. Instead of attending the funeral that was almost certain, I wrapped my arms around a guy who nursed a broken arm and a road-burned shoulder. And I forgot. I forgot how easily life fades away. I forgot what a miracle it is to simply breathe. I forgot that at any given moment, I could lose someone I greatly cherish.

Suddenly, I find myself being reminded. Today, as I wear my button, pray for Sam and thank God for sparing his life, I’m reminded to thank Him for the times that my brothers cracked their heads open, or fell out of trees, or had a zipline snap while they were riding it and yet walked away with no serious repercussions. I’m reminded to thank Him that my face carries no scars from the time I spilled a bowl of hot grease on it when I was only two years old. I’m reminded to thank Him for sparing me from the many tragedies of which I will never even be aware. Today, I thank God for the numerous times His hand has been there to save me from harm. Today, I thank God for the miracle of life.