It Might Get Worse

Based on the hostile climate of my Facebook newsfeed, I can tell that 2016 wasn't too many people's best year ever. 

"Goodbye 2016, a year of struggles."

"Thanks 2016, I no longer feel safe in America."

"Thank God 2016 is finally over. We made it."

I really, really hate to break it to you guys, but pinning all your problems on a 4-digit number doesn't change the fact that the difference between 2016 and 2017 is one second at the end of 365 days. The reality is that the change of a year doesn't necessarily mean a change of circumstances, a change in the political climate of a nation, a change of the number on your scale, or a change of your relationship status. We look forward to a new year because we think that means a chance for better days ahead of us, but the reality is, it might get worse!

If you're worried that I've become an extreme pessimist, doomsdayer, or just unusually depressed about life, you're forgetting something significant about me. If it does get worse, I'm still okay, and in the "worse," I can experience better! As Christians we have become so overwhelmed by other people's extreme nationalism, severe anxiety, and exceptional dread that we are forgetting that this moment isn't who we are nor is it what we live for. Our internal reality and wellbeing are separate from the external factors of life around us. 

Sure, 2016 was rough. If you want to base your opinion of reality on the news, the world is basically falling apart. Newsflash: it's pretty much been falling apart since the whole Garden of Eden fiasco. That's why we needed a savior and that's why God sent us one. The beauty of our salvation is not only in the hope we have set before us in heaven, but it is also in the hope we have here on earth. The reality is that wherever I am, whatever I have, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am. (Phil 4:13). Other people's worst days can be my best ones, not because I don't have compassion, but because I have my eyes fixed on heaven's eyes and nothing looks very scary from His point of view. 

Here's a message to both myself and to you for 2017: don't worry. It really is going to be okay. You really are going to make it through. The worst possible case scenario has nothing on Jesus and the surpassing worth of knowing him for eternity. If things start to look bad, lock eyes. If everything starts sliding downhill, cling tightly. Here's to 2017 and another opportunity to experience grace and mercy in the middle of it all.

Get Serious

Richard Baxter, a 17th Century theologian, said this:

"Recreation to a minister must be as whetting is with the mower-- that is, to be used only so far as is necessary for his work. May a physician in plague-time take any more relaxation or recreation than is necessary for his life when so many are expecting his help in a case of life and death? Will you stand by and see sinners gasping under the pangs of death, and say: 'God doth not require me to make myself a drudge to save them'? Is this the voice of ministerial or Christian compassion or rather of sensual laziness and diabolical cruelty."

Richard Baxter isn't implying that humanity doesn't need rest. He isn't implying that Christians don't need to enjoy their lives. Of course we do. We need fun days, we need movie nights, we need lazy Saturday mornings. We don't, however, need to be living for the weekend. We don't need to be spending twelve hours a day mindlessly scrolling through news feeds, watching viral videos, or vegging out to Netflix. We do need to get serious.

Richard has a point, you know. If you were dying of a curable disease but needed immediate treatment, you would not want to hear that the only doctor with the immunization was at home lying on his couch taking a personal day. If he was, you would expect him to realize the gravity of the situation, press pause on Game of Thrones, get up, and come to your aid. What kind of doctor would care more about his television show that the life of his patient?

Do you see where I am going with this?

Richard Baxter's quote isn't just for people who get paid to preach the Gospel. It's for all of us who live among the dying. You do realize that that patient is your family member. It is your best friend. It's the woman who bagged your groceries this morning and the man who will bring your mail this afternoon. It's that lady across the office from you and your boss who never seems to have a good day. They aren't promised tomorrow in the same way you and I aren't. They're calling us-- "can you please come help me? I'm not going to make it."-- but we so often find ourselves at home, looking for something to turn on so we can turn off. What kind of Christian would care more about her television show than the life of her friend, family member, or coworker?

Most of the time, this one. I'm guilty. I look on the suffering of others and feel sympathy but rarely do I turn that sympathy into empathy and do something about it. I have 24 hours in a day, and most of them are spent on myself. Like I said before, I am not implying there is never time to play, to relax, or to rest. There absolutely is! To be effective we need those things. But our play time, vacation time, and personal time should, in the end, turn into energy to be expended on the work that we have been called to in Christ. There really is fulfillment in that. I know we have been trained to think that living for others is draining, but it actually is refreshing. I know we have been trained to serve ourselves, but serving Jesus actually brings more reward.

Heart check. What are some areas of your life that are stealing time and energy away from your calling? What are some black-hole areas that need to be patched up so that you can be ready to rescue those around you?

Turning Heads

There is an old story about a king and his servant. One day, the servant was standing before the king in his dining room when, all of a sudden, he heard a loud crash come from behind him. Startled, the servant spun around to see the source of the commotion. A distraught cook now sat on the floor surrounded by shattered pieces of porcelain and the food that was meant for the king’s plate. The servant turned his head back to the King, expecting him to be furious with the cook who had ruined his meal, but instead of anger, he saw a deep disappointment in the king’s eyes. “Oh king,” said the servant, “we will soon have your dining room back in order and the cook replaced. Your meal will be set before you in no time at all.” The king looked deeper into the eyes of the servant. “It is not my cook who has failed me. When you heard the crash from behind you, you turned to see from where it came. I am your master, and you are in my presence. Your one ambition is to serve me; to keep your eyes on me. Had I wanted you to turn around to see what I could already see, I would have requested it from you. You are dismissed from my service.” The servant realized the weight of his error. He was not commissioned to respond to every noise he heard. He was hired to respond to the request of the king.

Many times I find myself in the same position as the servant in the story. There I am in the presence of my Master when, all of a sudden, I am distracted by the commotion around me. I take my eyes off the King and turn my head to look behind me at the task that seems too large for me, the person that has offended me, the situation that seems out of my control, the relationship that has been broken, or the sickness that won’t seem to subside. When I turn back around, there is Jesus reminding me that he already sees it and his desire is that I would keep my eyes fixed on him. He will let me know when he needs me to turn around. He will say the word when it is time for me to move. He will instruct me on how he desires me to respond to my circumstances rather than react. Thankfully, unlike the king in our story, Jesus doesn’t dismiss me from his presence or his service when I take my eyes off him. He simply reminds me that when I choose to keep my gaze set on him, he will take care of what is going on around me. He simply taps me on the heart and shows me that when I see the things behind me through the reflection in his eyes, I have a perspective that is aligned with the truth and not with how I am feeling.

We turn our head and see a friend who has offended us. We look through the eyes of the Master and see a human who needs just as much forgiveness as we do ourselves.

We turn our head and see a diagnosis that has been deemed hopeless. We look through the eyes of the Master and see an opportunity for a miracle.

We turn our head and see a job that is draining our energy and passions. We look through the eyes of the Master and see an opportunity to take Christ into our workplace.

We turn our head and see bills that are bigger than our paychecks. We look through the eyes of the Master and see the gracious hand of God meeting every need we have before we know we have it.

Dear friend, don’t turn around for anything short of a word from the King.

When Dirt Meets Grace

This past week, Hillsong United released their newest album called "Of Dirt and Grace: Live from the Land." If you haven't heard it yet, YouTube and Apple Music are your new best friends. It's good, y'all. Really good. The title of  the album comes from the track Empires. I've heard the song a million times since they originally released it, but hearing the phrase "of dirt and grace" really resonated with me more deeply this time around. It wasn't just a catchy line in a Hillsong track; it was a kind of clarification of who I am at my core. 

I am literally made up entirely of dirt and grace. If you don't believe me, read your Bible. In the beginning, God reached down into the earth, scooped up a pile of dirt, breathed life into it by His grace, and boom... thousands of years later, here I am. It puts things into perspective, doesn't it? At the end of the day, you and I are simply products of dirt and grace. In the midst of all of our circumstances, all our fears, all our accomplishments, all our failures, we are just little mountains of dust that have come alive through God's grace. Apart from the grace, there's just a lot of dirt. With the grace, there's a beautiful spirit and a vessel ready to be used for something greater than itself.

If we aren't careful, we see more dirt than grace sometimes. We see our brokenness, we see our shortcomings, we see our sickness, or our failed attempts to achieve whatever we had set our hopes on, our messy homes, our messed up relationships, our menial jobs, or our forgotten dreams. In our dead-set gaze on the dirt, we start to live life with little purpose, with little motivation, with little passion. We become overwhelmed by hopelessness and fear. After all, who am I except a big pile of dirt? 

When the dirt met grace, though, watch out world. There's life in there. Not just any life, either, but the life of God. The proof is stamped on the dirt that now bears His image. The dirt was no match for that grace. When grace met dirt, it changed it into something strong, something victorious, something beautiful. When we operate out of the understanding that we ourselves are the outcome of God's grace, there's not much that can stand against us and there's certainly nothing that can prevail.

When I realize what I am at my core, I am humbled. Humbled because I know that without God I am nothing at all. I am also strengthened. Strengthened because I know that though there's not much good about this 22 year old girl who can't seem to get through a single day without falling on her face, there's a powerful thing called grace dwelling on the inside of me that is more than enough for me to get up and keep going. 

I Can't Actually Lose

"There was a woman who had suffered terribly from severe bleeding for twelve years, even though she had been treated by many doctors. She had spent all her money, but instead of getting better she got worse all the time. She had heard about Jesus, so she came in the crowd behind him, saying to herself, “If I just touch his clothes, I will get well.”

She touched his cloak, and her bleeding stopped at once; and she had the feeling inside herself that she was healed of her trouble." Mark 5:25-29

"But to keep me from being puffed up with pride because of the many wonderful things I saw, I was given a painful physical ailment, which acts as Satan's messenger to beat me and keep me from being proud. Three times I prayed to the Lord about this and asked him to take it away. But his answer was: `My grace is enough for you, for My power is perfected in infirmity;' most gladly, therefore, will I boast in my infirmities, that the power of the Christ may rest on me. Therefore, I am well pleased in infirmities, in damages, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses -- for Christ; for whenever I am infirm, then I am powerful." 2 Corinthians 2:9-10

If I had to pick the outcome of one of these two scriptures to be my own, I would initially prefer to follow in the footsteps of the lady in Mark 5 rather than Paul in 2 Corinthians. The woman had suffered greatly for years, gone through endless medical procedures, doctor visits, tests, and treatments, but she pushed through the crowd, grabbed hold of Jesus, and was instantly healed of her trouble. On the flipside, Paul asked God three times to take his ailment away before he finally realized that his physical healing wasn't actually the big deal. When Paul asked God to remove the thorn in his flesh, God didn't refuse to give him a good gift of healing and wholeness.  God wasn't turning away and leaving Paul to wallow in his pain. What Satan meant for Paul's distraction, Paul embraced as an opportunity to be humbled, and God used as an opportunity to show Paul how His grace was enough to get him through. God was actually taking Paul by the hand and giving him the better thing as he poured out grace and power in his life regardless of his physical condition. Paul was asking for his symptoms to go away, God was looking for an opportunity to show Paul just how powerful He is to triumph not only over but also through his symptoms. My body right now is telling me "give me the healing and let me learn the lesson later!" But maybe that is not the best perspective to have. 

If I'm being honest, my end goal in life is not to be well and take it easy. On days like today, I'm tempted to make that my end goal, but I know in my heart that there is something I want more. More than feeling well physically, I want to be able to say that no matter what Im facing, my soul rests secure. I want to be able to say that no matter how I feel, God's grace is enough for me. God's power was perfected in Paul's life through his infirmity, and because of his infirmity, he learned to function inside of the power or Christ. Paul could not think for a moment that he was accomplishing anything on his own. He had to rely on God's hand at work in his life to make it through each day, each moment, and each challenge.

I am definitely not giving up on being well in my body. Like the woman in Mark, I am still pressing my way through the crowd and grabbing hold of Jesus. I am still placing my faith in the God who took my sickness and my suffering on the cross so that I can be free from it. I am also realizing, however, that God's grace is enough for me today. I see that what Satan meant to distract me, God is using to teach me about his goodness and his faithfulness in my life. If I go to sleep tonight still feeling this sickness in my body, I have more than enough to do it with joy in my heart and peace in my mind. It's a weird way of thinking, but my heart embraces it as true. If I'm seeking my healing above all else, I'm missing out on seeking the face of Jesus which far surpasses in worth. If I see my trials as opportunities to draw nearer to my savior, I can't actually lose.

All By Yourself?

Here is how 99% of my conversations have gone lately:

So, what are your big plans after college?

Well, I'm moving to Tulsa and finding a job here.

Oh, your family is all moving to Tulsa?

Nope, just me.

All by yourself? Do you at least have a roommate?

Nope, just me.

That's scary! Well, good luck with that.

I can't tell you how many times in the past few weeks since I decided to move to Oklahoma that I have heard the phrase "by yourself." It's usually accompanied by the phrase "that's scary," or with a simple "oh" and a concerned look on someone's face.

When we were little, "all by yourself" was an exciting thing. We celebrated riding a bike all by ourselves, going to Kindergarten all by ourselves, and getting dressed all by ourselves. We rejected help from our moms and dads just so we could say, "I did it all by myself!" Something has changed since then. What used to be exciting is now frightening. Why? We are scared of being alone.

I don't particularly enjoy being alone. I like to take an occasional hike by myself or a trip to the coffee shop to work by myself, but that's about all I can handle. I thrive when I am around people. It is part of my wiring. God made me to love being around others, and it brings me great joy and great energy. The idea of going home to an empty apartment everyday freaks me out just a little bit, and I'm already wondering which neighbors I can become best friends with (so far the elderly lady next door with the two attack dogs seems most promising).

The perception is that I am a 22-year-old girl alone in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The reality, however, is that I am not alone. I am not all by myself. First of all, I have friends and I will make friends. It may not happen right away, but I have a solid community of people here in Tulsa, and Jesus is already working on my behalf. Second of all, even if I never met a single person or if all my remaining friends left, Jesus has made it clear that I will never walk alone.

In John 16, as Jesus is getting ready to leave, he tells his disciples:

I didn't tell you this earlier because I was with you every day. But now I am on my way to the One who sent me. Not one of you has asked, "Where are you going? Instead, the longer I've talked, the sadder you've become. So let me say it again, this truth: It's better for you that I leave. If I don't leave, the Friend won't come. But if I go, I'll send him to you.

I can't imagine what it must have been like for Jesus' disciples to hear him say that he was leaving. I can almost feel the panic that ensued when they realized this wasn't just a joke. I also can't imagine that it would have been very easy to hold on to his promise of "the friend" not understanding what Jesus was saying. Were I there, I would have said, "but Jesus, I don't want another friend. I want you!" On the other side of it, however, we see what a gift the disciples were really getting... what a gift we were really getting. The Holy Spirit was on his way, and he was coming for good.

The Bible tells me that he will never leave me nor forsake me. It tells me that the Lord himself goes before me. It tells me that he will provide for me. It tells me that he sees my heart and he knows what I need before I even say a word. That doesn't sound like "all by myself" to me. That sounds like a pretty great team. Me and Jesus in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I think we are going to be just fine.