all

"But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny.
Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, 'I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.'"
- Mark 12:42-44

Trying to live as a Christian always presents itself with at least a little bit of discouragement. Forty years of prayer, no answer. Five months of despair, no reprieve. Things such as lasting bitterness at a church...

But this story keeps running through my mind these days. Perhaps as a reminder that what is most beautiful is love. Love is what compels us to give our all, even if we have nothing left. And Christ's love is what frees us from our flesh - the emotions, the thoughts, the temptations that drag us down.

Love is more valuable than the results. We're often constricted in our minds to the state we live in, to the emotions we're feeling right now, to the soul that hasn't yet been won, to losing hope that God will ever come through. But why can't we take our delight in the giving of ourselves instead of despairing at the lack of success?

Pastors always tell us to "take joy in our giving" when we give our measly 10%. They're onto something.

"You know as well as I do that if someone is loving you in a begrudging way, like, "I really don't want to do this for you, but I'm a Christian and I'm supposed to, so I'll do it," you don't feel very loved. You don't feel very loved when they are dutifully helping you fix your flat tire. But, if they say, "You know what, it is my delight to do this for you. I just get a lot of joy out of seeing you get helped"—when someone says that to you, and you sense that they really do enjoy blessing you and putting themselves out in order that you might be built up or strengthened or have some need met, you feel wonderfully loved."

And this widow knew how to love God. Not grudgingly, not because she had to, not for some result and miracle, but because it was her joy.

truth

"'If this is bewitchment,' said Théoden, 'it seems to me more wholesome than your whisperings. Your leechcraft ere long would have had me walking on all fours like a beast..."
- "The Two Towers," J. R. R. Tolkien

This quote reminds me a lot of another one.

What's beautiful to me about this quote is that this king is willing to accept the truth, even if it means danger and certain doom, over wasting away safely in the darkness. Of course, we only know that what he's accepting is indeed the truth because of third-person omniscient writing... but to his credit, and from his point of view, he's putting faith in something that is worth more to him than the lies that have kept him ensnared.

It's easy to get caught in the crossfire between truth and falsehood, where each is pointing fingers at the other and yelling "Lies!" It's a gift to be able to discern one from the other, and that means putting trust in those who know the way. I could decide to follow my own limited intellect (rationalism), follow the lies of Satan (any one of twenty billion things), or follow Jesus. It's just a matter of where I want to put my trust.

pray about it

I rarely give testimonies to how God answers prayers. That's because I'm always told to "pray about it," but I seldom take the suggestion seriously. Usually when I do, I forget about what I prayed for anyway, so I'm left with one of three things: no prayers, unanswered prayers that I don't remember, and answered prayers I don't remember.

Yet I got an answer today (and I don't want to say "praise God," because that honestly sounds cheesy to put in a blog post, but praise God!), and I will jot it down while I still remember it.

I often think about what it means to be a Christian - why Christian life is any better than a non-Christian life - and I must say that a lot of the time my mind doesn't come up with an answer. It swirls with vague thoughts of freedom, salvation, love, and even the whole Galatians 5:22-23 package.

Earlier this week, I was drowned in the same thoughts and prayed that I might understand the reason for the hope that I have (1 Peter 3:15), because even if I was supposed to be prepared, I simply wasn't. And then my mind ran to the first fitting answer it found, and it just happened to be freedom at the time. I wasn't really satisfied, but I've learned that thinking about something for an extended period of time is not healthy (except when you're programming, but life's not like an algorithm). So I stopped thinking.

This morning, at church, the pastor said something that was ridiculously applicable to all of this:

"The goal of Christian living is not so much to be free, but to be full. Of Him."

Well, my mind came up with "free," so I was all ears when he mentioned that. When he finished the sentence, I thought about it and I decided that's a good reason - we are called to live life to the fullest. But I felt a little uneasy about just taking what some pastor says on faith, so I flipped to the concordance in the back of my NIV and looked under "full."

I found this:

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."
- John 10:10

The reason for the hope I have in Christ is that I am utterly powerless to free myself and live life to the full. Life to the full is life lived in God's story, not mine.

community

"Seriously now - how often have you seen this sort of intimate community work? It is rare. Because it is hard, and it is fiercely opposed. The Enemy hates this sort of thing; he knows how powerful it can be, for God and his kingdom. For our hearts. It is devastating to him. Remember divide and conquer? Most churches survive because everyone keeps a polite distance from the others. We keep our meetings short, our conversations superficial. 'So, Ted, how's everything going on the Stewardship Committee?' 'Oh, just great, Nancy. We've got a big goal to reach this year, but I think we'll be able to get that gym after all.' No one is really being set free, but no one is really at odds with each other, either. We have settled for safety in numbers - a comfortable, anonymous distance. An army that keeps meeting for briefings, but never breaks into platoons and goes to war.

Living in community is like camping together. For a month. In the desert. Without tents. All your stuff is scattered out there for everyone to see. C'mon - anybody can look captured for Christ an hour a week, from a distance, in his Sunday best. But your life is open to those you live in community with. Some philosopher described it like a pack of porcupines on a winter night. You come together because of the cold, and you are forced apart because of the spines. Here we go again. Why does Jim always have to be discouraged? I'm sick of encouraging him. And what is it with Mary and her inability to stop talking about herself? Why is Brian always so guarded? These people bug me."
- "Waking the Dead," John Eldredge

I've had those thoughts cross my mind at the bottom quite a few times. And it makes me happy, because it gives me hope that the church I'm in isn't devoid of community - that we are living life together and learning. Perhaps it's just because we're in college and that's what college is like.

But either way, I know that I'm not predisposed to putting my stuff out there for everyone to see. In fact, I try my best to smother it and hide it. Yet I'm finding that people can see me for who I am - and sometimes who I am is a person hiding his junk somewhere, and everyone knows it, but no one will talk about it because I don't want to talk about it. And once in a while, out of the blue, someone will knock it out of me and thank God they did because that's exactly what I needed.

This book describes a lot of different things and I'm not sure what to think of it all, but I can't think of any better way to describe church than a community living life together - rather like the Fellowship of the Ring. And it's kinda cheesy, but it's definitely true that we are people with a common purpose, fighting a war and we have each others' backs.

if it's love

I like this song.

resolution

Never read the comments on any online material. Especially news articles. They're stupid arguments 99% of the time.

guided

"Either we wake to tackle our 'to do' list, get things done, guided by our morals and whatever clarity we may at the moment have (both rather lacking to the need, I might add). Or we wake in the midst of a dangerous Story, as God's intimate ally, following him into the unknown.

If you're not pursuing a dangerous quest with your life, well, then, you don't need a Guide. If you haven't found yourself in the midst of a ferocious war, then you won't need a seasoned Captain. If you've settled in your mind to live as though this is a fairly neutral world and you are simply trying to live your life as best you can, then you can probably get by with the Christianity of tips and techniques. Maybe. I'll give you about a fifty-fifty chance. But if you intend to live in the Story that God is telling, and if you want the life he offers, then you are going to need more than a handful of principles, however noble they may be. There are too many twists and turns in the road ahead, too many ambushes waiting only God knows where, too much at stake. You cannot possibly prepare yourself for every situation. Narrow is the way, said Jesus. How shall we be sure to find it? We need God intimately, and we need him desperately."
- "Waking the Dead," John Eldredge

This hit me rather hard as something I need to write, because I know I'm guided by my mind. Perhaps the thing that worries me and crosses my mind most often is that 'to do' list.

I was asked recently, "Do you think you're better than God?" And though I haven't really reflected on it extensively, I feel like it may be true. I don't want God to be God. I want to be in charge; in control... but it doesn't always work that way, does it?

sermon win

Sometimes when I'm falling asleep in a sermon, one thing will always perk me back up. When pastors talk about things I struggle with, their credibility in my book suddenly goes up 1000%, and I'm all ears for the next 30 minutes.

For example, if I'm having trouble understanding why faith is not just about intellectual understanding, and the pastor happens to say, "For those of you who may think that faith is just about intellectualism and knowledge," I start listening. If it's about being unable to be vulnerable, "I personally also find it very hard to be open..."

It really wakes me up from one of the biggest deceptions I always fall to - I always believe that I'm the only one who struggles with something, and no one understands me. Also, it's just so shameful that I am this way, so I won't talk about it. I somehow think that everyone else has it put together.

That's a lie. God loves me even though He understands exactly what I'm going through. And so far, I've never had to suffer some catastrophic struggle unique only to myself.

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin."
- Hebrews 4:15

making plans

"The Lord protects the foreigners among us. He cares for the orphans and widows, but he frustrates the plans of the wicked.."
- Psalm 146:9 (NLT)

I've recently come to a profound revelation that everything I decide is by my own hand and if I can't do it by myself then I'll avoid it at all costs. What that means is that I plan things out down to the smallest detail, and things usually go as expected. I'm not stupid, and I'm intelligent enough to figure out where my boundaries are and I never cross them.

This explains why I don't pray all too often. My philosophy is more like "Why pray, when you can think?" And though sometimes I will make deeply theological statements (that are true) like "We can't save ourselves" or "We can't change peoples' hearts," I don't live like I believe it. Because if I did believe it, I would spend so much more time praying.

When I was younger, I would pray for safety if my parents were going outside. I was terrified at the prospect of losing them, so especially on stormy days I would say, "God, keep them safe, please, please, please..." They came back every time. Yet, looking back, I never once acknowledged God's sovereignty in keeping them safe. I expected them to be safe, so when I saw them, I acted like a spoiled child - taking everything for granted.

I realized all this when I was praying for my sister who was in the hospital the past few days giving birth, and when it was all over and everything was okay, I think for the first time I remembered to take a step back and thank God. I don't think I've ever done that before.

But still, there's so much more I take for granted. I can't expect people to come to know God as I just watch and wait, making my own plans and inviting them to meet God in my own way and selling happiness and community more than I talk about Jesus. I do meaningless things, planning my own ways instead of depending on Him. And that is exactly why He's telling me I need to learn to surrender.

God, frustrate me when I make my own plans for my own needs, please, please, please...  and help me to thank You for the little things.