Shine On

Are you ready to fight?

The afflictions are many. Oppression hangs like a dark cloud over some of us, and waits in dark corners for others. If you think you're fine, don't fool yourself; we always fall somewhere in states of sleeping, fighting, or resting in victory.

In Judges, when Gideon was sent out with his meager army of 300 (against thousands of Midianites!), not only was he told he had God's favor and that the camp would indeed fall before him, but he was equipped by God to fight with a torch, a trumpet, and a clay pot.

{Judges 6-7}

The clay pot is noteworthy. From our Bible study this week, we learned that these vessels were... brittle. These intentionally devised 'weak' vessels held the soldiers' torches until it was time to strike or drop the pot. Upon breaking, the torch light was able to spill out, visible and fierce. Shining on strong, illuminating darkness. 

The depth of this is simple.

We were made weak by God so that we would depend on Him for strength. We were made weak by God so that when He breaks us, it's His light that spills out of us. God made us brittle so that His light would shine through the cracks and missing shards. And He still equips us for the fight today with strong armor that won't fail {Ephesians 6:10-18}. He is still our advocate - in spite of our weaknesses.

{2 Corinthians 12:9-10}

Each time he said, “No. But I am with you; that is all you need. My power shows up best in weak people.” Now I am glad to boast about how weak I am; I am glad to be a living demonstration of Christ’s power, instead of showing off my own power and abilities. Since I know it is all for Christ’s good, I am quite happy about “the thorn,” and about insults and hardships, persecutions and difficulties; for when I am weak, then I am strong—the less I have, the more I depend on him.

From John 15, we see God as the Great Gardener. He cuts away what is not profitable, and cuts back others in order to yield "even larger crops". Whether we are cut off or cut back... we get cut.

Breaking... cutting... All action words. Inferring pain. {Profitable pain.}

I say profitable, because if everything is either God-arranged or God-allowed (Priscilla Shirer) and if Romans 8:28 is alive and at work in our lives, then this is all growing and working towards goodness and Christ-likeness. That's a promise.

{God is working out your circumstances. God is working through this trial. God is moving through this pain. Tell your soul to be still!}

As for oppression (or circumstances, or sin, trials... you fill it in, whatever you're up against...) that cause grief, pain, disappointment, and even loss... I liken this growing and pruning process as working through the five stages of grief. I'm in 'anger'. I'm angry at this rotted flesh that still has arrows sticking out of it {after all this time}, at the enemy for stealing my time, my peace, my joy, and for creating potential hardship on others. I'm angry with a righteous, hopefully holy anger, at my sin, at my weakness... {that I know He will be glorified in} cut open - cut back, being pruned by Holy shears, and fighting against darkness with a burning open flame amidst broken pot shards this time. I'm mid-battle, and by the grace of God I know now that strong armor and full dependence upon and obedience to our strong God makes all the difference.

Press on, friends. Maybe you're fighting to save your friendships. Your marriage. Your sanity. Maybe the cloud for you is depression or illness. Loneliness. Lostness. Don't give up! Keep running! Fiercely, with boldness... with passion... light spilling from every crack! Don't be lukewarm! Stay awake! Shine on! The victory has already been given into your hands.

Bellarive – Shine On

A Weak Week

Life is hard. Being human is hard. So I had to unharden my heart towards this verse this week to get some fresh perspective on how to live this thing well. I'm going through stuff, and I know you are too.

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Galatians 6:2

{We need each other. The weight on one person alone is crushing.}

I so want to reflect this, but the truth is when someone's burdens are too difficult or heavy or 'messy', I'm like "she gone" (to myself). Anyways. This is critical; real people can go through real things, and never feel more alone.

{Isolation, whether self-imposed or group-imposed is a weapon of the enemy}
who prowls around trying to weaken us, get us alone, and then deliver the deadly strike.
{1 Peter 5:8}

To combat this, we need:
{Hebrews 10:25, 1 Thessalonians 5:11}

Living messy lives together requires both sacrifice and risk. Is it worth it? Can we crucify the idol of superficial Christianity?

Another beautiful truth I've learned this week is that Jesus was not perfectly able/equipped to remain sinless because He avoided places entirely where he would be tried/tempted. No. Jesus was able to remain sinless by first actually being in the world, facing its trials and temptations, and by being empowered to withstand them.

As a friend put it this week - we have to #outsource our strength to God; He empowers us. He is the powerline.

From Matthew 4:1-11, three times Satan approached and tempted Jesus, and each time He said - "Dude, get out of here." Kind of. But He was tempted in three ways: with an earthly/fleshly temptation (food),  with power (over angels), and with authority (over the Earth). {We are still tempted in these ways today.} Each time, Jesus resisted. In His strength, we can too.

Point # 1: Experiencing the trial or temptation is not the sin; giving in is.
Point # 2:  Trials = emotionally radical and exhausting. Emotions do not equal weakness; they equal humanness. In our poisoned humanness, grace is the only saving antidote - first passed down to us, and then passed amongst each other. {Grace!}
Point # 3: God is gentle with us in our weaknesses. God does not make assumptions about our character, scold us for having bad character, or kick us when we're already down. He gently guides us, in His timing, and in perfect love to look more like Him.

The One About Death

I've been thinking a lot about death lately.

{If you don't know me, I have a creepy streak.}

Not in an emo-high-school-psuedo-depressed/sucidal/intro-to-a-Tim-Burton-movie kind of way. To clarify, don't worry about me.

More it's finality. The totality.

No one's exempt; we live this life, this sometimes painful, sometimes tragic, yet hopefully beautiful life, and then... it's over. A conclusion so dark, eternal... inevitable, an indiscriminate reaper collecting bones in the night.

The people I know, our church, humanity - we're dealing with it.

I lost someone I knew last month, and if I believe what I say I believe, I think I know where they are. She wasn't even a family member or friend... an acquaintance, merely a passing soul that God brought in for a time and then ushered right back out. I didn't even get a real glimpse of her - our time together like walking past a dirty window, looking in and seeing only distorted outlines. That's how little, that's how short. And it's killing me. What could I have done differently? What if I was the only connection to Him she ever had? The only seed planter? And I messed it up, because I was too busy. Too self-involved, too numb to her need.

How often am I {are you} walking in a crowd, hands stuffed in pockets, head down, walking briskly, bent on reaching a destination and nothing else. While other lost hearts, wholly unique and crafted by God, pass by. It makes me sick. What am I living for, if not to interrupt their life with Life?

Is this not a tool of Satan? To get His church, already largely undefined, apathetic and dwindling, closed off to others? The very ones we are sent out for?

{Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations... Matthew 28:19}

The action word here is GO. Get up. Move. DO something.

I love what Christine Caine says too - 

Jesus rescued us and set us free so that we, in turn, would reach back and set others free (para). 

This is all that matters! {People. Hearts. Lost souls.} As a friend, grappling with death and grief himself, so poignantly said yesterday - this is serious. Lives are at stake. {What are we doing!}

See, when Satan convinces us to shove our hands in our pockets, to keep our heads down, to keep walking, to keep quiet... it gets harder and harder to look up.

Last semester, I made the same drive to school 5 days a week. It's a long stretch driving Wilson from Loveland up to FC, with next to nothing noteworthy about the drive. One morning, one gloomy yellow-grassed, cloudless morning (like most others) for no particular reason, I looked up.

Here's what I saw:

A row of power lines shaped like crosses.

Simple, stupid power-lines that were there every moment of every day of that mundane drive, but it took the action of God lifting my head to notice them. It's the perfect reminder.

Jesus is here, in every moment of every day of our mundane lives. He is the power-line, what He did for us on the cross is eternal, more final than death. Jesus defeated the grave, and He wants us to raise our heads! To stop living like the walking dead. Jesus says 'look up' when the world will only serve to grind us downward... when we start believing lies and need Truth. He says 'look up' when Satan says I want your head here. 'Look up' into the faces of My people! I love them! I want them! What I've given you? It's time to move it outwards.

This is one of my favorite music videos lately, and I think it's more meaningful than I initially thought. My interpretation is that the guy is a criminal investigator type, who after witnessing so much 'death' in his work, finally succumbs to it himself. It creatively shows how death is inescapable, creepy, and unnatural with an additional spiritual peppering I see: that living without it being for God - is like walking through life like you're already dead.

It's a sobering visual reminder, if nothing else. *if you're easily creeped out/disturbed, I'd skip this one.

The rhythm of life - is death.

Physical death is something only One has conquered... but, we can escape {and help others escape} spiritual death through Him.

"The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy; I {Jesus} have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."

John 10:10 NIV

Found

We can argue about the tangible parts of Christianity, of the Gospel: logistics, facts, figures, and underlying philosophy. The untouchable part, however, is how the gospel changes a person.

I was very resistant to the Judeo-Christian idea of "god" for most of my childhood and adolescence, even though I was raised under the basics: god made you, he loves, you; he sent Jesus for you. I knew that I believed in "god", because a creator, to me, was a given. I just didn't like how he was defined (and in contradicting definitions made by differing people groups). To me, god is more like this. I didn't know about Jews or Pagans, Buddhists and Hindus seemed cool, and Muslims were foreign and radical to me. Above all, though, I thought Christians were lame. Fakers. (Who is that happy all the time? They're just so nice. Ugh.) Definitely hypocrites. My antagonistic perception of Christians arose from witnessing God's goodness radiating from them, and the heat was too much. I felt ashamed around Christians, even though, from my perspective, I had done nothing wrong.

Religion, in my mind (with Christianity leading the brigade), was a crutch for people who were too dumb and weak to just be able to figure it out on their own: that life was about gaining as many experiences as possible, feeling fulfilled, and pursuing happiness all in the presence of good company. We live and we die, and if you are good and honest enough, you get to finish it out by going to heaven to be with "god". Love and happiness were the goals; god was just a convenient vehicle for getting to them. I only prayed when I needed something. I said, wrote, sang, and dreamt, whole-heartedly, without abandon, and with childish fervor: "Love is all I need!"

Before God, I wandered aimlessly. I was fragile, sensitive, easily impressed-upon. I fell in love over and over and over again. People, ideas, knowledge, emotion, and experience were my pillars. I was a theistic humanist with a bent in my heart against Christianity, if you like labels. I was never openly aggressive towards Christians; I just tried not to be around them. I believed in god, but I believed more in the mystery and awesomeness of his people. I believed that people were inherently good, that there was an endless capacity for goodness, love, and creativity. I wanted to witness something amazing, to be a part of something huge. I believed that we all were destined for greatness, as unstable rocks waiting for the earthquake, trembling. I was hopelessly lost, even though I didn't know it, waiting for anything or anyone to take my hand. Love is all I need!

Eventually, my pillars began to rust and crumble. You can ignore it, suppress it, numb yourself to it, or beg for it in death, but eventually the 'hard questions' of life (the meaning of existence type questions) will arise and demand heavy answers. Only one ideology can bear up under the weight of this. The Gospel elicits a response; you can't sleep through this. You may not wake up.

If "god" exists, if he revealed himself to man, if the way he revealed himself to man can be narrowed down as absolute truth measured against a pool of subjective man-made truths, and if that account is trustworthy, you can know God. 

The Gospel: God exists, He made you; He knows you, and He loves you. So much so, in fact, that He simply could not and would not exist to sit back and watch us slowly kill ourselves devouring the gunk of this world; that kills Him. So He sent a Game Changer to do for us what we could not do for ourselves, namely, pull us out of the mess we've created here, the mess that separates us from God. The Gospel is reconciliation with God through Christ (or I also love: God Our Sins Paying Everyone Life, not my acronym, for emphasis). Christ abolished the old law that said we have to be good enough, the one that demanded unending sacrifices to cover our shortcomings, by becoming the ultimate sacrifice, sealing the new law of grace on anyone who believes it. The Game Changer gives us something we don't deserve. 

I can see now. It's like looking through a clear pane when all you've ever known was shrouded, frosted glass. Stable rocks after the earthquake. Someone holding my hand. Being found. Being defined.

My life has purpose. I am noticeably different. Reading the Bible makes sense, there is purpose in praying, I am free to love Christians now; they are my brothers. I extend the law of grace that is marked on me like a tattoo. It starts with a lot less of me and a lot more of Him. It's the greatest redemption story ever told. It's the taking of an imperfect mess and making it purposefully profitable for the truly greater good {Him}. It's the greatest love story ever told. It's belonging to someone; it's being truly admired and loved. It's the object of my true affection given to the only One I love. Of course it's a process! I'm not perfect! But it looks like a little less road rage, a little less yelling at the kids, a little less wanting someone else to be taken down a few pegs. It's the opposite of getting what's coming to you; it's grace. A way out from anxiety, someone on the other end of the line when I need help who won't fail. It's not keeping a record of wrongs against anyone because none are held up against me.  I have direction; I still wander, but it's not aimless, and it's always back into His arms.

It's wild, endless. It's freedom!

Attractive

It's everywhere, isn't it?! It's. In. Everything. Whether something is 'attractive' or not may as well be the new high fructose corn syrup.

(Alright. That's my one bad joke. I promise.)

Here's a good example though: on one of our routine 'stay at home - no plans' days a couple of weeks ago, I caught Elliott singing and dancing, which is common, but the difference came when she stopped suddenly, looked at me and said, "I sure don't feel pretty. Can I be pretty again?"

I can't describe the response that went through my head, because it was simultaneous and overwhelming, and I'm sure I'm not alone in this, parents. I wanted to grab her and shield her from even having that thought, irrational, but fierce. It ranged from confusion, a clench to the gut, then expletives forming a news ribbon running across my face, and finally the thoughts: Who said you weren't pretty? Why don't you feel pretty? You are beautiful! HOW do you know what pretty even is? You're THREE. I'll find out who told you this... a quick throat punch is in order.

Thankfully, she had just been quoting the Sweet Pea Beauty Veggie Tale, which in retrospect, should have been the first conclusion drawn. But whoa. If that wasn't a taste of what 11 or 13 (or earlier? Scared face!) is going to look like... I may need to book myself a coincidentally timed 6-7 year cruise, if you know what I mean... ;) I commend anyone who has raised/is currently raising/will ever raise a teenager (and it's not just girls... aren't we all self-conscious?).

Also coincidentally in all of this, Nathan and I just got back from our trip to Los Angeles this week - an amazing trip, rounding out a lot of these ideas that sync up in my mind. L.A.:  land of the sunny, rich, and beautiful, yeah?

Yeah.

I saw a lot of, what I assume the majority could agree upon calling, "physical 'beauty'" in CA; it makes sense. It's just... beauty is subjective. Especially physical beauty. And I'm quickly becoming convinced it's not all that important. And maybe I define physical "beauty" the way that I do, fishing from a stereotype bag, because that's the definition we've all been fed. While the people we saw were 'all' envy-inducing beautiful on the outside, I'm assuming (and really, when is assuming ever good...just saying...)... some of their insides were probably hollow (I won't say 'ugly' because only God knows the heart - and it's super harsh, especially operating off of an assumption). We're talking Beverly Hills, Hollywood, downtown L.A., where there are bright lights, Italian convertibles and billboards for Prada and Gucci everywhere, and you get the sneaking suspicion, no, you know, that these are not pipe dreams or luxuries, but afforded expectations.

Yeah, I was amazed. And jealous. And homesick for a place I didn't belong.

You can shine a diamond in front of an infant, and she'll clap her hands.

But.

Money is dirty; it cannot buy beauty. It can't ensure esteem or worth. Veneers do not cover true ugly; a tan won't make you fundamentally desirable. There is not enough money in the world or a creatively fabricated enough mask you can buy to hide or to change your insides.

The lies I tell myself are dirty; the idols I build in my mind are dirty. Believing "I" am the music "I" listen to, the hilarious shows "I" watch, the witty words "I" say, "my" friends, "my" family, "my" weight, "my" pants size... If "we" just make the gospel attractive enough, if slides, images, and flyers look like this and not like this, making this dang blog 'look cool', if "I" use this filter for my pictures, if "we" use this font instead of this, if "I" am just influential enough, If "I" am intelligent and pretty enough, they'll notice me... Guilty!

(More good, painful growth right here):

"I" am is the idol, while I AM is God, the creator of beauty. His Spirit watches from our insides, waiting patiently to actually identify us. To actually change us. To actually make us beautiful.

The Holy Spirit inside of me, inside of you, is attractive. The gospel being lived out through me, through you, is beautiful. Extenuating what flows unnaturally from me, from you, to me, to you, caught like unaware vessels, is attractive. Serving selflessly, is attractive. Dads who love their kids, who still date their wives. Loving sacrificially, living sacrificially. That's desire! That is passion! I can't help being attracted to and admiring and loving people who genuinely love God and His people, because that is the Spirit recognizing Himself in another filled shell, like 'Friend! I know you. Reach out to me!'

'How is it that you find beauty in everything?' 
'I don’t. It’s God who sees beauty in everything. I just choose to agree with Him.'

- Sweet Pea Beauty

Change

I'm really ready for summer to be over.

I can look back on this blog, and pinpoint where I wrote at this exact time last year that 'I didn't want summer to end; it's bittersweet' yada yada yada... but this year; oh. I'm ready.

I love that we even get to experience seasons; God knew, He knew before time began, before He had Jesus create everything from scraps of nothingness, that we in our limited ant-likeness, would get bored, easily, so quickly, and that we would crave this vital change in environment. Like clockwork. Hence, a love for seasons, and another notch of worship for the Creator.

I anticipate and soak up seasonal change, in its familiarity, consistency and comfort, but I equally and vehemently detest and will resist the unknown kind of change, the kind that makes my stomach flip over, the kind that brings us all to our knees. You know the kind... facing a potential job loss (or the job loss itself), a shock to your system, to your relationship, grieving the death of a loved one, a move, standing at the edge of a huge life milestone, or when your 'friend' record skips and it ruins the whole song. This summer, and now beginning of fall, I'm learning to trust God, even during times of detestable change, to let Him help me choke out the fear, to crucify it.

I want to 'be ready', eager, to embrace the next step, whatever and wherever it leads (in a variety of circumstances). And it's seriously liberating, because I am the runner in pain who sees the finish line, because my days are becoming less fearful, more hopeful. And it didn't come from one huge single pious prayer; it's coming from daily reliance, daily baby prayers, the daily cry for more strength. Literally, like an unashamed kid begging unabashedly for help.

This summer I learned a lot. About myself. About God. About our relationship. About friends and 'friends'. Esperanza. Trials. Perseverance. And aside from wishing I could Men-In-Black-Flashy-Thing a few things away, like 'Psych! That didn't happen!', I can look over my shoulder into a setting summer sun and see the good kind of change sprouting in my life, the honest, stable kind that masks fear with hope, the inner growth given life by Someone else, that soothes, the kind only the best Gardener can cultivate ... and then maintain.

Curious Dancing Lights

In an unnamed galaxy far from man's reach, both in geography and imagination, there is a singular similarly-formed system to ours, full of brilliant stars and planets, suns, and moons. It stands seemingly aloof, and in its untouched state, there is beauty and perfection to be beheld in its creation, a mirrored reflection, a peaceful loneliness.

Like ours, in this galaxy, the planets and suns and moons radiate around each other, coordinating as radical giants, tracing the same patterns, performing the same celestial movements, which is custom of what we know to be true of these things.

Except in one respect.

The stars are out both day and night; and while they are content to rest in their designated spots during long nights, they simply can't sit, during the day. The peculiar things, they... orbit the sun! Days are marked by the consistency of the cycling sun, but also of these brilliant orbs surrounding it, beckoning it to stay out, to stay up! To play, to dance with them! Oh, the brightness! Reader, I have never seen such a thing as these curious dancing lights.

As for the sun, it is constant; warm and beautiful, yet relentless in following the circle set out for it. Eventually high noon exchanges itself for afternoon, and then afternoon for late afternoon, and then finally, late afternoon for sunset. All of the stars slow in following the sun over the horizon, and eventually stop, peacefully settling in for the night, waving good-bye to their beloved friend, twinkling brightly, as they were designed to do, creating a road map of constellations in the now dark sky. All, except for one.

Yes, one star remains in its orbit, moving in her circle, refusing to follow, refusing to stop, as if searching for her sun. She is also dimmer than the rest. And now, as if sensing her sadness, the other stars dim just a bit also, joining and comforting her in her melancholy. She slows. There is an evasive quietness now, washing over the entire night sky. The dimmed stars glow like embers; they know he is coming back for them, as if saying, 'Morning will come!' And the one star ignites just a tiny bit brighter. Hope.

How curious, how strange.

You see, for somewhere out there, there is a galaxy where the stars actually miss the sun when it goes away.