testing, testing

I realize that you can read the Bible and find that Jesus would pretty much be amazing at any job. For example, The Master Plan of Evangelism explains how Jesus is a mastermind by entrusting the entire future of the faith into 12 incompetent disciples and then giving them Holy Spirit to carry it out. Every great CEO, teacher, doctor, parent, firefighter, policemen, judge, lawyer and engineer are but shadows of Christ.

And they were astonished beyond measure, saying, "He has done all things well. He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak." (Mark 7:37)
I also happen to believe that Jesus would make the best programmer alive, because he knows about TDD.

TDD stands for "Test-Driven Development", and it's a method of programming (and it's pretty dang effective). There's 5 steps to this process:

1) Add a test.
2) Run all tests, make sure the new one fails.
3) Write some code.
4) Run tests.
5) Refactor code.

Then you repeat.

TDD really works because you never fix something until you're sure it's broken. And until you add a test in, you don't realize that something isn't working.

We hate it when the tests come in our lives, and when we fail those new tests. We realize we weren't a finished product, and it hurts to realize that we aren't perfect. But the beautiful thing is that it leaves God room to write some new code, polish and spruce up what wasn't working before.

TDD only works because you make sure the code will fail the new test. It really helps to know that we were meant to fail the tests:

"For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin." (Romans 3:20)
Because that's the only way that we can be changed, and that's where God can rewire us from trusting in our own flesh to looking to the Cross where He refactored everything. We no longer get what we deserve, because Jesus got what He didn't deserve. We get what we didn't deserve, because Jesus got what He didn't deserve.

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reentry

I've always hated space movies.

My family (especially my dad) had an obsession with Tom Hanks movies, so I grew up watching and hearing quotes from Apollo 13, Castaway and Forrest Gump over and over and over again. Apollo 13 in particular terrified me to no end - the thought of being a cosmic drifter for eternity was unsettling.

In the movie, Jim Lovell, the main character, is focused on his one mission to make it to the moon. But there's some dramatic irony there as the movie isn't really about getting to the moon. The plot revolves more around his family and all he's leaving behind...



This past week, I've learned a lot about myself. There were some responsibilities I had, and my irresponsibility ended up dumping the burden on other people. I had an argument with my parents because I want to go to Indonesia and they thought it was too dangerous. I had fears concerning the next few years of my life, knowing that the road will only get steeper.

All these situations exposed that I had been living in isolation. I didn't realize that when I drop a ball, someone else has to pick it up. I didn't realize that failing to communicate my intentions and situation fully with my parents meant that they would make faulty assumptions about where I was going and what I was doing. I didn't realize that there were people around me who are willing to carry my burdens and fears with me and who are directly influenced by my decisions and actions, and that I am as much affected by their decisions and actions though I've fought my whole life to be completely self-sufficient.

I spent my life shooting for the moon. Training to jump into a rocket and launching off as far away as I could from people, basking in my own glory and hoping I'd be recognized by the world. My aspiration has been to impress the world, not to relate with it.

I'd become an astronaut. Lost in space. Alone in space.



Lovell is shipped off into space with his two partners, and everything goes wrong. And in the days he spent shuddering in the cold isolation of outer space, he discovers what actually matters.

Jim: "Gentlemen, what are your intentions?"

[Jack Swigert and Fred Haise turn around and stare at Lovell]

Jim: "I'd like to go home."
When the astronauts finally find a way to return home, they strap themselves in their seats for a bumpy ride. Reentry meant that the command module they were in would heat up significantly as it plunged through the atmosphere. The external temperature of the module could heat up to 5,000 degrees Fahrenheit, but the temperature inside the command module remained cool; most of the heat being absorbed by the heat shield surrounding the module that would erode away as the descent progressed.

The fall comes to an end in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Rescue ships arrive to bring the astronauts safely home.



It's time for reentry. I see the heat coming. Circumstances, responsibilities, difficulties, hardships, and trials. But the temperature remains cool - because whatever comes my way externally, I have a heat shield:

"The Lord is my strength and my shield..." (Psalm 28:7)

"He answered and said, 'But I see four men unbound, walking in the midst of the fire, and they are not hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods.'" (Daniel 3:25)

"...when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you." (Isaiah 43:2b)
The module ultimately lands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. And that's where I'd like to find myself at the end of this next season of life. An ocean of grace, love, and people.

"If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking." (How He Loves, John Mark McMillan)

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