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There are so many ideas swirling in my brain, waiting to make it to a page, but they're still so clumsy and undeveloped, like baby birds fledged too soon. I sometimes hate this stage of mental processing, when there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to my thoughts and yet I know that somehow they all interconnect. But I have also begun to get used to it, begun to accustom myself to flailing a little, to taking the time to slow down and listen and breathe and wait for God to clarify and redirect. I have started to appreciate the in-between period when I can both see the hand of God in the process of working and wait expectantly to see the result.

God has been teaching me, and this place of learning is such a delightful and refreshing place to be. For awhile I thought I was utterly isolated, irredeemable; I know what it is to panic in the pitch-black and feel irrevocably lost. And I think that's what makes this awkward time of idea-fledging and humble re-learning so sweet: just being able to see again a shaft of light, and know that the Truth still reigns and that whatever I have been or failed to be, I am not alone.

i am not as fine as i seem

I'm scrolling down my screen and it's filled with names. These are my friends, I'm told. Facebook points out which name has shared this and which name has liked that, as if I'm expected to care. But the more often I see a name typed across the screen in dark blue, it seems, the more fake and far away it becomes. These are not friends. These are not even people to me anymore. They are just names, just symbols of my popularity; I wait on their likes and comments because I think maybe that means they care, but I know that's not what my own likes usually mean. So why should I expect it of them? This social media phenomenon, this invention that was meant to draw people closer together, has become no more than what its name implies - a book of faces. Faces that mean less every time I scroll past them. Faces that hide stories and struggles and real lives, faces that overshadow souls and sins and the image of God. Faces that are more like facades.

I have one too. A facade. My profile picture is always smiling so you wouldn't know that behind it is a heart breaking with loneliness. I post Bible verses and pretty pictures and all the while I want to scream, "I am not as fine as I seem!" But that does not seem safe when I am surrounded by people as fake as myself.

I think my dad got social media right all along. He calls it Farcebook. And that's petty much exactly what it is.

Friendships aren't created or maintained on Facebook. Ministry isn't sustainable on Facebook. Discipleship is impossible on Facebook. A tenuous connection, yes, maybe that can survive; but in truth, the more time I spend among my 200-something virtual "friends," the more terribly alone and empty I feel.

But maybe it's not all Facebook's fault. Maybe it's mine... maybe, over time, this would have happened regardless of my social media presence. Maybe (gasp!) I am by nature a sinner, a selfish human being who wants to appear whole and righteous and desirable to those around her even when the cost is destroying herself with loneliness. Facebook was made to make connecting with people easier, but I think what it has truly made easy is the ability to appear connected while keeping everyone at an arm's length. Responsibilities like accountability and relational investment - which are nonnegotiables of functioning as a biblical part of the Church - are removed when you are able to erect a charade of virtual spirituality. Post enough selfies at a coffeeshop with an open Bible - #blessed - and you can deceive yourself, along with the believing community around you, that you're a healthy and fruitbearing branch that doesn't need training or equipping or the asking of hard questions. Post enough Bible verses and holy-sounding thoughts, and I can maintain a comfortable bubble of space between myself and the probing spiritual edification of those around me, who might discover in the end that (what!) I'm not perfect after all.

But the reality is... if I'm honest, the kind of relationship that comes with probing spiritual edification (even, and especially, the kind that knows me for what I really am) is exactly what I most intensely crave.

hard words

 

I came across this passage in my reading last night, and they are words that pierce. I’m still trying to mull over their incredible gravity, so I’m afraid I don’t have much to say today… sometimes I think His words are enough.

“You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; it is these that testify about Me; and you are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life. I do not receive glory from men; but I know you, that you do not have the love of God in yourselves. I have come in My Father’s name, and you do not receive Me; if another comes in his own name, you will receive him. How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and you do not seek the glory that is from the one and only God?”    - John 5:39-44

yoda and paul on purpose

 

If you know me, you should know that I love Star Wars. It’s pretty much been my favorite trilogy for as long as I can remember… even before the prequels came out. Sam and I watched The Empire Strikes Back last night, and in the scene when Luke first meets Yoda in the Dagobah System, one of my favorite Yoda quotes again struck a chord with me…

“Ready are you? What know you of ready? For eight hundred years have I trained Jedi. My own counsel will I keep on who is to be trained. A Jedi must have the deepest commitment, the most serious mind. This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away... to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph! Adventure. Heh! Excitement. Heh! A Jedi craves not these things. You are reckless!”

So what does a curmudgeon of a Jedi Master have to do with the apostle Paul?

Maybe nothing to you. But an hour or two after the movie ended, as I was lying in bed reading my Bible, I came across these words from Colossians:

We proclaim Him, admonishing every man and teaching every man with all wisdom, so that we may present every man complete in Christ. For this purpose I also labor, striving according to His power, which mightily works within me.    - Colossians 1:28-29

And in light of these two very different quotes from two very different sources, I am convicted.

When it comes to my life, my “purpose” or whatever it is that this millennial generation seems to idolize, I’m Luke Skywalker. Always looking off to the distance, looking for something bigger and better; mind absent from the here and now because it’s not big enough, not radical enough, not exotic enough. Because other people don’t recognize and applaud those who are faithful HERE and faithful NOW in boring small ways. We are inspired by the seekers and strivers who are never satisfied where they are, who are constantly reaching for something bigger and brighter, who are traveling the world in the name of Jesus and who seem so much more “spiritual” because of it.

But Paul poured his labor into a purpose that can only be done here and now. It can only be accomplished by investing into where God has placed me and who God has placed in my life. And what higher purpose can I wish for than to proclaim Jesus Christ, and train up disciples who are complete in Him?

This can (and must) be done in my home. How would my life be different if my mom had been staring off at a bigger, better horizon instead of training me up in the knowledge of Christ during my growing up years?

It can (and must) be done in my church. Would my year of Bible school have yielded the same fruit if not for the incredible investment that Grace Church of Sebring made in me?

This labor, this purpose is not optional. But it can’t be done if we insist on passing it by for something “glamorous” or “radical” instead. And it won’t be done if we don’t consider it important enough to pour our whole life’s labor into, like Paul did.

Adventure? Heh! Excitement? Heh! A disciple of Christ craves not these things.

Do not work for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will  give to you, for on Him the Father, God, has set His seal.  -  John 6:27

how to ruin your walk with God (in five easy steps)

 

Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And he said to the woman, “Indeed, has God said, ‘You shall not eat from any tree of the garden’?” The woman said to the serpent, “From the fruit of the trees of the garden we may eat; but from the fruit of the tree which is in the middle of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat of it or touch it, or you will die.’” The serpent said to the woman, “You surely will not die! For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate; and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loin coverings.

They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. Then the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” He said, “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself.” And He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me from the tree, and I ate.” Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?” And the woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

Genesis 3:1-13

Let me guess: You’ve read this before. Heard it preached. Maybe it was one of the flannel graph stories they drilled into your poor six-year-old brain back in your Sunday school days. And your reaction to hearing it again might go something like “Yes, I realize that way back when, humanity fell and now we’re all sinners. I realize that’s why Jesus came to die. But just merging onto the freeway to go to work is a pretty good reminder of that—I don’t need the story pounded into me again.”

Oh, but you do. It’s far more relevant to your life than you might realize. It gives you the foolproof blueprint for how to ruin a perfectly good relationship with God.

Step one: be ignorant (or even just forgetful) of God’s Word.

V1a  Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made.

Zero in on that word “crafty.” I always thought it meant something like “sly” or “up to no good.” In reality, the word translates more like shrewd or wise. The serpent is smart. He’s strategic. He knows his prey and exactly how to catch it.

V1b   And he said to the woman, “Indeed, has God said, ‘You shall not eat from any tree of the garden’?”

Here the Enemy’s excellent tactical skills come into play. He doesn’t jump right in and say, “You know, God is totally wrong about that tree.” Maybe he doesn’t want to put himself out there so quickly—but nor does he need to. He knows that all Eve needs is a question… a nagging reason to believe that she’s been informed wrongly.

V2, 3   The woman said to the serpent, “From the fruit of the trees of the garden we may eat; but from the fruit of the tree which is in the middle of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat of it or touch it, or you will die.’”

Up until this point, we can reasonably say that Eve hasn’t actively done anything wrong. The serpent’s craftiness isn’t her fault. His question isn’t her doing. But it will be her undoing, for it bares to him her weakness: she does not know what God really said about the tree.

Back in Genesis 2, God’s instructions are recorded in full:

The Lord God commanded the man, saying, “From any tree of the garden you may eat freely; but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you will surely die.”

Genesis 2:16-17

Notice what God didn’t say. He didn’t say “You shall not eat of it or touch it.” He only said “You shall not eat of it.” By adding to His Words—by not being familiar with exactly what God said—Eve has opened herself up to be deceived. After all, if she isn’t really confident in her knowledge of God’s words, won’t she be pretty quick to accept outside “interpretations”?

We do this as Christians all the time. Most of us have heard the words “Do not judge” a thousand times and have never read the paragraphs that follow them. This has left us completely vulnerable to secular attacks that call it “hateful” to condemn certain actions as wrong. Because so many of us are ignorant of the Word, we’ve started to agree with them even though that is not what the Bible says.

Christians, there is a reason that when Jesus was tempted in the wilderness, He answered the Devil’s taunts with Scripture (Matthew 4). It’s this: Satan is the father of lies—and the only thing that can silence him is the TRUTH.

Step two: begin to blur the distinction between who God is and who you are.

V4, 5   The serpent said to the woman, “You surely will not die! For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

I had a conversation the other day that shocked me. I was making the point that if we place our own desires above the law of God, we have essentially dethroned Him and crowned ourselves “god” in His place. The friend I was speaking to (once a regular churchgoer who now claims a strange postmodern spin off Catholicism) gave a reply that I could hardly believe I was hearing: “See, I don’t feel like God should be above me. I feel like He and I are on the same level, so my actions can be based on my own judgment.”

I have always known that in the deepest and most evil roots of our natures, we want to be the gods of our own lives. Just look at Lucifer, who fell from glory because he wanted not only to rule his own life, but everyone else’s as well. Yet I never thought I’d hear anyone admit that desire to me in so many words! But there it is: my friend’s philosophy lines up in perfect sync with the formula for the very first fall of man. It grays out the distinct black and white that differentiate between God, the Highest King, and myself, His lowest servant. If God and I really aren’t so different, why should I make it a priority to obey Him? Why should He have rights to the throne of my life? As long as we do not see God for who He really is, and ourselves for who we really are, we will be in peril—and it will march us directly into Step Three.

Step three: decide that your personal feelings and judgments trump the laws of God.

V6   When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate; and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate.

Nothing about Eve’s response here is godly. In fact, John calls it the polar opposite of what God would want:

For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life, is not from the Father, but is from the world.

1 John 2:16

The lust of the flesh: “…the woman saw that the tree was good for food…”

The lust of the eyes: “…and that it was a delight to the eyes…”

The boastful pride of life: “…and that the tree was desirable to make one wise…”

Weighing out these three factors, Eve decides that her own judgments and feelings about the issue outweigh the fact that God expressly forbade her to eat of the fruit. This is a classic example of what happens in the hearts and minds of people every day in our world. For example, they may have grown up understanding that homosexuality is sinful, but Satan infiltrates the gaps in their knowledge of the Word and encourages them to interpret God’s Word through the lens of their own experience and logic. They use Biblical-sounding phrases like “Love can’t be a sin” to legitimize a behavior that God called worthy of hellfire.

But homosexuality is just one big example. Every day we are ambushed with thousands of smaller choices, like whether or not “Do all to the glory of God” matters as much as the fact that I’m completely exhausted and just want to put in half an effort today.

Step four: hide from God.

V7-10   Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loin coverings. They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. Then the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” He said, “I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself.”

The problem (which isn’t really a problem) with living in a close relationship with God is that your sense of conviction becomes extremely sharp. You know when you have done wrong and you know what needs to be done to fix it—which usually involves falling humbly on your knees and asking forgiveness from the One you have wounded.

The deliberately sinful soul doesn’t want to be in that relationship. Adam and Eve don’t want to walk closely beside God anymore because instead of submitting to His conviction, they have fled into guilt, which is deep in the territory of the Enemy. So dull have their compromising senses become to the reality of God’s character that they would rather wallow in their sinfulness than face the healthy pain of coming clean before Him.

This is perhaps one of the scariest places to be in your walk with God. Here, you can feel nothing but terror, because you know you are guilty but you refuse to seek the Solution. Maybe you’re too proud, maybe you no longer believe that God is really good and forgiving—I don’t know. But I can tell you that bowing your stiff neck and taking the risk of falling at the throne of grace will be far worth any temporary pain it may cause to your ego or your heart.

Step five: decide that it’s all God’s fault in the end.

V11-12   And He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” The man said, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me from the tree, and I ate.”

It always fascinated me that Adam didn’t just say “The woman gave it to me.” He adds a suspicious little detail: “The woman whom You gave me, she gave me from the tree, and I ate.”

You see, after you’ve deliberately disobeyed God, enthroned yourself in His place, and run away from His grace, you have reached the point where you no longer even believe you are responsible for what you’ve done. Your circumstances can be blamed on someone else—maybe it’s your dad’s fault you have anger issues, or your ex-girlfriend’s fault that you have no self-esteem, or in this case, God’s fault that you’re getting kicked out of Paradise.

The woman You gave me, God. The father You gave me, God. The circumstances You gave me, God. My screwed up life is Your fault. I thought You said You were kind and loving and gracious and merciful? I’m done with You!

Ah… but it goes back to Step Four… you will not know God’s kindness, love, grace, or mercy if you will not receive them.

Finally, in verse 13, the story is brought full circle.

Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?” And the woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

The serpent deceived me—because I forgot Your Word. I ate—because I figured my own judgment was more important.

And it’s all Your fault, God. So go away and let me reign in the little kingdom of mine.

 

Heavy stuff. This is how mankind fell from perfect intimacy with God into total separation from Him. If two perfect human beings walking in Paradise can turn their backs on God in five easy steps, you know it’s even more possible for you to do so. So here are five easy steps to not ruin your walk with God:

(1) Know the Word inside and out. It’s the only ammunition that can kill roaring lions (that is, Satan).
(2) Study the truth of God’s character again and again. If you get into serious study of the Word, this will be an automatic result.
(3) Act as though God is the Highest Authority—because He is. Again, if you really spend time getting to know Him, this will begin to come naturally.
(4) Keep short accounts with God. Know that you can and must take your mistakes, hurts, and difficulties to Him on a daily basis. Relationships thrive on honesty and communication!
(5) Never forget that you deserved to pay the price for your actions, but there is a Solution—and He is there to fill every humbled heart with the richness of salvation and forgiveness!

smallness

 

There is a smallness to my life. I spend long sunny days washing dishes and clothes, planning what to make for dinner, playing with kittens, and watching the minutes creep by till my husband gets home. Some days I spend several hours working on dry business-related tasks, and other days whole chunks of afternoon will go by while I sit on the deck by the waterfall. I have been guilty of discontentment, of downright frustration at God for not putting me into something “bigger,” “more important.”

But by the grace of which I am so undeserving, Jesus drew me back to His Word…as somehow He always does.

Now the Passover and Unleavened Bread were two days away; and the chief priests and the scribes were seeking how to seize Him by stealth and kill Him; for they were saying, “Not during the festival, otherwise there might be a riot of the people.”

While He was in Bethany at the home of Simon the leper, and reclining at the table, there came a woman with an alabaster vial of very costly perfume of pure nard; and she broke the vial and poured it over His head. But some were indignantly remarking to one another, “Why has this perfume been wasted? For this perfume might have been sold for over three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor.” And they were scolding her. But Jesus said, “Let her alone; why do you bother her? She has done a good deed to Me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them; but you do not always have Me. She has done what she could; she has anointed My body beforehand for the burial. Truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be spoken of in memory of her.”

Mark 14:1-9

Smallness. It is unpopular, it is ridiculed, it is called a pointless waste of time and resources. “Why has this perfume been wasted?” Ah, so familiar, but in different words: “Why has your young life been wasted? Why didn’t you go on an adventure and do mission trips and change the world while you still could? Why did you get married and decide to settle into this life of smallness?”

But Jesus said.

“Why do you bother her? She has done a good deed to Me. . . . She has done what she could. . . . Truly I say to you, wherever the gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be spoken of in memory of her.”

Jesus does not ask me to be great or important. He is great, and that is enough.

Jesus does not ask me to save the world. He has saved the world, and my responsibility is to live that truth.

Jesus does not turn away my smallness. He only asks one thing: Give Me everything you have.

It might be a bottle of perfume worth a year’s wages, or it might be a mere two mites. But the two mites that represent my whole heart are worth more than the million dollars, the three-week mission trip, or the number-one bestseller that represent only a self-centeredness disguised by religious words.

saved

 

I hate to be vulnerable.

I don’t know why it’s always been so easy for me to lay my heart open raw on this screen, why I can somehow pretend here that there is no one reading my scariest and most honest thoughts… I suppose I deem the Internet so clotted with other voices that my own little whisper will be safely drowned out, so I will say things here that I might never have the courage to speak anywhere else.

Yet as much as I dread to be heard, I think I dread more that I won’t be.

This laying open, this flaying away of my heart’s iron shell hurts almost as much as the sin and pain I would conceal. Sunlight pierces the darkest parts of my soul, blinding me with the purity of Him against the blackness of me. Hard questions, hard truths chip and chisel till I’m bare, till my flesh lies prone under the sculpting blade, braced against the fear that He might suddenly throw away His careful work in favor of one justifiably angry strike.

But instead of a blade in my chest, there is a soft touch and a gentle voice, and I suppose they must have been right when they said that “we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin.”

Therefore, let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace…

Confidence, in this pose of defenselessness? Confidence, as I lie helplessly guilty before the God of the universe? Is this how it will feel when I stand before His throne at the end?

…so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

I have pushed relentlessly on the mortal strength of my own sinful heart for so long. I am panting for Him, but He cannot water an ironclad soul—not because He is unaware of its contents, but because I have ignored them. To see Him as He is requires me to first see myself as I am.

Helpless.

Wicked.

Deserving of wrath.

 

Saved.

Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and grace to help in time of need.
Hebrews 4:14-16

israel 2013

A whole year ago already? Wow. I still remember the smell and feel of Tel Aviv air, the delicious coolness of the Mediterranean after hours and hours of traveling. I remember the odd lurch of my camel rising up onto all fours underneath me and the fascination of eating food with my fingers, seated on the ground in a tent with a half dozen feral cats lurking nearby. The tickle of sweat pouring down my back while hiking down the snake trail at Masada and the sting of the salt and minerals of the Dead Sea around my lips, despite keeping my head well above water. The perfect stillness of a pink sunrise over the Sea of Galilee, the lush green humidity of the Golan Heights and the Tel Dan Nature Reserve, the acres and acres of golden hills rolling away from every side of the Herodian. In Jerusalem—my favorite place—Ben Yehuda Street came to life with music and dancing every night; the narrow alleys of the Old City buzzed with spice-scented markets and a tangle of Hebrew, Arabic, and English conversations; the Temple Mount stood in a kind of reverent silence, broken by soft voices and Muslim prayers.

I go through my pictures and that sense of awe comes back… that incredible realization that this is God’s holy land. It draws me in, and I ache to see it all again.

one year

 

On May 12, 2013, I cried.

I cried when I saw my classmates’ families pouring into the auditorium at Grace Church of Sebring, and when I saw dozens and dozens of my own adopted Floridian family there too. I cried (for laughing) when David gave me the “Almost Perfect” award. I cried, for real, when Pastor Aaron picked apart both my strengths and weaknesses with his alarmingly excellent discernment, and when Pastor Randy gave us his final charge—his parting words to the thirteen disciples he had made before he sent them out into all the world.

I thought it would be harder to come to grips with the fact that three hundred and sixty-five days have already passed. In them, I’ve watched my GCBI brothers and sisters change the lives of third-graders, young adults, Mongolians, senior citizens, and more. Perhaps the hardest thing for me to accept is how little I feel that I’ve accomplished, how empty my own record still seems… how hard my heart still is to the idea that maybe God has purposefully put me in a smaller sphere than I would have liked, that perhaps even King David was better fit to raise up a godly son than to build Yahweh a temple.

I wonder sometimes—does life get ever harder, or am I just climbing a particularly rugged slope right now that will plateau soon? I suppose there are new challenges every day and with every new season in life. I suppose God’s work in us is never done, and after He’s knocked out contentment it comes time to work on pride, idols, self-reliance, discouragement, and all that good stuff.

I flatter myself that I’m learning at least a few seconds faster than I used to.

:)

grace for the gray days

 

It’s here. That long stretch of winter that is January and February, gray and thick and cold like murky pond water. Not a breath of wind stirs the fog from the valley; the mountains are shrouded beneath it like huge sleeping bodies. The trees are silent sentries, bony as skeletons, lifeless and still. It’s cold like death, in a way that makes every pain and fear in my heart throb harder.

So I stop, and in the dismal gray of winter I choose to find grace.

Grace: that God has given us His Word, and that daily I’ve been able to make time for its chapters. That I have a community of friends who are also believers and are reading alongside me, day by day, with a goal of having read the whole Bible by June. That words millennia old can still be relevant to me, here, now. That God is sovereign and good even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Grace: that I have a healthy brain and the will to use it. That I got to finish high school, to devour college-level algebra with A++ scores even though math is my weak subject, to spend a year studying the Bible. That even now I can choose to learn nearly anything because the Internet is available to me. That my brother and sister showed me a site called Duolingo, where I have learned 95 German words in only a few days and can speak in the sentences of a foreign tongue better than I could after a whole year of high school Spanish. That when God scattered the people and confused the tongues at Babel, He paved the way for words like “Entschuldigung,” which I can’t even say without smiling.

Grace: that my sister and I are such friends, and that even when swamped by her homework, she makes the time to watch an episode or two of Once Upon a Time with me in the evenings. That she understands my movie references and that we feud over whether Rumplestiltskin or Captain Hook is the more awesome villain, but are both in wholehearted agreement about the epicness of Loki and Darth Vader.

Grace: that I can run, jump, lift, and work out without getting exhausted. It wasn’t always that way; there have been whole chunks of my adult life when I was too sick and too weak to do much of anything without severe repercussions. But in the past few weeks I’ve found, finally, an energy that I haven’t had for a long time, and with it has come a joy in hard work and an optimism and confidence for every other area of my life.

Grace: that I have been blessed in so many ways, that God has orchestrated my life perfectly so that my path would cross with the paths of untold others who would have huge impacts on my life. That He made a young man perfectly imperfect enough to fit perfectly into my own imperfections. That He chose my parents and my siblings so that I would be molded into who I have become, that He sent me to Florida to meet the roommate I needed most so that I could later be changed by a community of other believers in PA who still give me prayer, counsel, happy memories, and many smiles from 2,500 miles away.

Grace. Grace that He knows all. That He cares about all. That He is the Source of joy, and that His love will never let me go.

at the feet of Jesus

 

I’ve been trying to write this study out for weeks, but the more time I spend in it, the more bruises are inflicted on my prideful soul. It’s hard to wrestle with God.

Her name is Mary. No, she’s not the Nazarene, not the mother of Jesus—she’s of the town of Bethany and the family of Martha and Lazarus. She is given three passages in Scripture, and in them I find a very convicting character sketch of what a spiritually healthy Christian should look like.

Read:

Now as they were traveling along, He entered a village; and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. She had a sister called Mary, who was seated at the Lord’s feet, listening to His word. But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me.” But the Lord answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42)

Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. It was the Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment, and wiped His feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick. So the sisters sent word to Him, saying, “Lord, behold, he whom You love is sick.” But when Jesus heard this, He said, “This sickness is not to end in death, but for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified by it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.So when He heard that he was sick, He then stayed two days longer in the place where He was. Then after this He said to the disciples, “Let us go into Judea again. . . . Lazarus is dead, and I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, so that you may believe; but let us go to him.” Therefore Thomas, who is called Didymus, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, so that we may die with Him.”
So when Jesus came, He found that he had already been in the tomb four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, about two miles off; and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary, to console them concerning their brother. Martha therefore, when she heard that Jesus was coming, went to meet Him, but Mary stayed at the house. Martha then said to Jesus, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died. Even now I know that whatever You ask of God, God will give You.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to Him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?” She said to Him, “Yes, Lord; I have believed that You are the Christ, the Son of God, even He who comes into the world.”
When she had said this, she went away and called Mary her sister, saying secretly, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” And when she heard it, she got up quickly and was coming to Him.
Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha met Him. Then the Jews who were with her in the house, and consoling her, when they saw that Mary got up quickly and went out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. Therefore, when Mary came where Jesus was, she saw Him, and fell at His feet, saying to Him, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and was troubled, and said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to Him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus wept. So the Jews were saying, “See how He loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind man, have kept this man also from dying?”
So Jesus, again being deeply moved within, came to the tomb. Now it was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Remove the stone.” Martha, the sister of the deceased, said to Him, “Lord, by this time there will be a stench, for he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not say to you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” So they removed the stone. Then Jesus raised His eyes, and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. I knew that You always hear Me; but because of the people standing around I said it, so that they may believe that You sent Me.” When He had said these things, He cried out with a loud voice,“Lazarus, come forth.” The man who had died came forth, bound hand and foot with wrappings, and his face was wrapped around with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
Therefore many of the Jews who came to Mary, and saw what He had done, believed in Him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them the things which Jesus had done. (John 11:1-7, 14b-46)

Jesus, therefore, six days before the Passover, came to Bethany where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. So they made Him a supper there, and Martha was serving; but Lazarus was one of those reclining at the table with Him. Mary then took a pound of very costly perfume of pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of His disciples, who was intending to betray Him, said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and given to poor people?” Now he said this, not because he was concerned about the poor, but because he was a thief, and as he had the money box, he used to pilfer what was put into it. Therefore Jesus said,“Let her alone, so that she may keep it for the day of My burial. For you always have the poor with you, but you do not always have Me.” (John 12:1-8)

i. a healthy Christian believes in Jesus—without needing to physically see Him.

In introduction to his Gospel, Luke writes, “Inasmuch as many have undertaken to compile an account of the things accomplished among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, it seemed fitting for me as well, having investigated everything carefully from the beginning, to write it out for you in consecutive order . . .” (Luke 1:1-3a). From this thesis statement, Bible scholars have deduced that unlike the other three Gospels, Luke is written in accurate timeline form.

In Luke 10, the introduction of Mary is preceded by a passage of commissioning: “Now after this the Lord appointed seventy others, and sent them out in pairs ahead of Him to every city and place where He Himself was going to come. . . . ‘Whatever city you enter and they receive you, eat what is set before you; and heal those in it who are sick, and say to them, “The kingdom of God has come near to you”’” (Luke 10:1, 8-9). Of those who would shut their ears to the evangelists, Jesus said, “The one who listens to you listens to Me, and the one who rejects you rejects Me; and he who rejects Me rejects the One who sent Me” (Luke 10:16). By the time we meet Mary in verse 38, this command has been carried out in full (see verse 17), so we can infer that the village of Bethany had already been evangelized before Jesus arrived. The ensuing actions of the Martha-Mary-Lazarus household suggest anything but rejection:

Now as they were traveling along, He entered a village, and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home. She had a sister called Mary, who was seated at the Lord’s feet, listening to His word. (Luke 10:38-39)

I don’t know about you, but if someone came to my door advertising a cult leader I thought was ridiculous, false, or dangerous, I wouldn’t be opening my house to him when he came to town! Furthermore, Jewish culture places great import on hospitality; the act of eating together is a tremendous statement of friendship and trust.

This belief is the most basic building block of a relationship with Christ. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31). Without this acceptance, this trust in Jesus’ deity and identity as Messiah, one cannot even claim true Christianity.

ii. a healthy Christian looks to the one Source of truth.

Again: “Mary . . . was seated at the Lord’s feet, listening to His word.” (Luke 10:39)

I can’t help but envision this as a parent-child scene, with Mary clinging to Jesus’ every word like a child learning with wonder from a grown-up. She is at His feet, indicating the same kind of deference one would give a parent; she is seated, indicating a childlike trust; she is listening, indicating a regard of importance for His guidance. A child’s primary source of knowledge and training is his parents, and likewise Mary acknowledges Jesus as her source of truth and wisdom.

As twenty-first century believers, we don’t typically have the physical form of Jesus sitting in our living rooms. But we are blessed with plenty of access to His divine Word. The question is, do we place the same value on it that Mary did? Do we trust it to be the only Source of absolute truth against which to measure the questionable claims of a godless society? It is not only the light to our feet as we tread a precarious earthly path, but it is also the path to a true knowledge of and intimacy with God Himself.

iii. a healthy Christian enthrones Jesus as highest priority in life—higher than “Christian service.”

But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him and said, “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me.” But the Lord answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:40-42)

Here is one of the hardest Biblical principles to put into practice. It’s one of those gray zones—the distance between right and almost right, between “good” and “excellent.” What Martha is doing is not inherently wrong. It’s part of who she is; if you follow her thread through these three passages you’ll find her a proactive, productive, practical individual who places great value on putting her love for Christ into action.

In fact, Martha is a fairly accurate picture of most modern-day churches . . . and few of today’s churches would know what to do with a Mary if they had one. Marys are those difficult individuals who sometimes say “No”—who will not allow anything, even ministry, to interfere with their relationships with Jesus Christ. Marys are those enigmas who might be accused of selfishness, laziness, or lack of Christlike servanthood; of being mere “hearers” and not “doers.”

Yet Jesus says they have chosen well, and Paul concurs:

Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth. (Colossians 3:1-2)

We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:18)

Certainly, there is a part of Christian obedience that involves doing (James 1:22-25), but Mary has learned the balance. It is so, so easy to allow ministry “for” God to erode one’s relationship with Him. And since Jesus’ entire purpose on earth was to restore and reconcile the relationship between God and man by enduring an agonizing death, we know that there is nothing more important to Him than intimately knowing us. Ministry, world hunger, evangelism, church planting, youth group, summer camp—these things are meaningless apart from a thriving private relationship that keeps Him in the number-one place of our hearts.

iv. a healthy Christian leans completely on the love and power of their Savior in every situation.

Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. So the sisters sent word to Him, saying, “Lord, behold, he whom You love is sick.” (John 11:1, 3)

Illness of any kind would have been of far greater concern to Mary and Martha than it might be to you and me. We have two thousand extra years of medical research and the corresponding medicines, vaccines, practices, and professionals to give most Americans a fairly good survival rate and life expectancy. But at the time of Jesus, people were rarely expected to live longer than forty or fifty years, and in the meantime a host of accidents, viruses, and diseases threatened to cut their time short.

I think it’s interesting that Mary and Martha’s message didn’t say, “Lord, please come heal our brother.” I’m pretty sure that’s what my prayer would have sounded like! Of course, the Bible encourages us to pray the desires of our hearts (Matthew 7:7-11), but often I think our “requests” would sound a bit more like demands if we listened to ourselves closely. Mary and Martha’s message requires a special measure of trust. They are not afraid to remind Jesus of His character, but neither do they demand His cooperation with their wishes. They trust Him to know their plight and know how best to respond. They seem to understand and revere His deity far better than I do!

v. a healthy Christian realizes that God has the right to every part of her life, and is under no obligation to act the way she wants Him to.

But when Jesus heard this, He said, “This sickness is not to end in death, but for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified by it.” Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when He heard that he was sick, He then stayed two days longer in the place where He was. (John 11:4-6)

Does anyone else see a seeming contradiction here?

To my selfish mind, it doesn’t seem possible that Jesus could claim to love Mary and Martha and Lazarus and then not run immediately to their sides in their time of difficulty. The delay seems cruel. I envision the sisters frantic, looking out constantly for the arrival of Jesus—and then the heaviness of death, knowing that it’s too late, wondering why He didn’t come.

But I am reminded of something that would happen only a few chapters later. Jesus would ride into Jerusalem on a donkey, hailed as the rescuer of the Jews from Roman oppression. They thought He should establish a kingdom and overthrow Rome’s tyranny, but He knew that His purpose was to eternally save thousands of generations from hell-fire for the maximum glory of His Father—not to upset one empire and save a only few generations of Jews from earthly hardship. Of course, He loved His people, but He knew the best way to love them was to please His Father above all.

This same principle plays out on a smaller scale with Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Though healing Lazarus promptly would have been very much appreciated, Jesus allowed His friends to endure extra pain and uncertainty so that He could give His Father the maximum glory by raising Lazarus from the dead—a miracle that had a far-reaching effect on far more than the three siblings alone:

So Jesus said to them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, and I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, so that you may believe; but let us go to him.” (John 11:14-15)

Jesus raised His eyes, and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. I knew that You always hear Me; but because of the people standing around I said it, so that they may believe that You sent me.” (John 11:41b-42)

As a follower of Jesus, my life is not about me. It’s about allowing Him to be glorified through me… even when it hurts!

vi. a healthy Christian is not afraid to show God the most difficult recesses of his heart.

Therefore, when Mary came where Jesus was, she saw Him, and fell at His feet, saying to Him, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and was troubled. (John 11:32-33)

This passage demonstrates Mary’s clear belief that Jesus could have saved Lazarus—and didn’t. The verses don’t tell us exactly what her tone was like—was it resentful, confused, angry, or just sad?—but we can tell that she is at least in a state of immense sorrow, and is not afraid to say so. I think it’s easy for us to forget that God can handle our complaints. Whole books of the Bible fall into the genre of lamentation—stanza upon stanza of pouring out of the writer’s pained heart to God. One of the seven Hebrew words for “praise” in the Old Testament is tehillah, or “poured out through pain.” God is not cold toward our pain, nor is He so small that our anger or bitterness is too much for Him to handle. Part of a healthy relationship is being able to share one’s heart honestly with another, and God takes delight in it.

Of course, that doesn’t mean prayer should be our complaint forum of every little thing we dislike about our lives. The throne of God is a sacred place, and should never be approached lightly. Pain and agony should be shared with a heart that is willing to listen to God’s response and change accordingly, as Jeremiah’s does in the book of Lamentations, or as the many psalmists’ do throughout Psalms.

vii. a healthy Christian knows that on his best day, he is an obedient tool in the hand of God, meant to bring Him glory through every circumstance.

Martha therefore, when she heard that Jesus was coming, went to meet Him, but Mary stayed at the house. . . . [Martha] went away and called Mary her sister, saying secretly, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” And when she heard it, she got up quickly and was coming to Him. Now Jesus had not yet come into the village, but was still in the place where Martha met Him. Then the Jews who were with her in the house, and consoling her, when they saw that Mary got up quickly and went out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. (John 11:20, 28b-31)

Jesus wept. So the Jews were saying, “See how He loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not this man, who opened the eyes of the blind man, have kept this man also from dying?” So Jesus, again being deeply moved within, came to the tomb. Now it was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. Jesus said, “Remove the stone.” Martha, the sister of the deceased, said to Him, “Lord, by this time there will be a stench, for he has been dead four days.” Jesus said to her, “Did I not say that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” So they removed the stone. Then Jesus raised His eyes, and said, “Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. I knew that You always hear Me; but because of the people standing around I said it, so that they may believe that You sent Me.” When He had said these things, He cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come forth.” The man who had died came forth, bound hand and foot with wrappings, and his face was wrapped around with a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Therefore many of the Jews who came to Mary, and saw what He had done, believed in Him. (John 11:35-45)

Mary’s story thread through this chapter is a little bit interrupted by pieces of Jesus’ and Martha’s, but if you follow it carefully, you will find that God used her in a remarkable way through seemingly small, insignificant actions.

First of all, when Jesus arrives in Bethany, the sisters are at home hosting all the mourners for their brother Lazarus. Naturally, Martha is the one who rushes out to meet Him, leaving Mary to deal with a houseful of guests. (I’m convinced that Martha is the older of the sisters. I’m an oldest sister myself, and “No, Mary, stay here and entertain everyone. I’ll go meet Jesus” sounds like something that could easily come out of my own mouth to my younger sisters.) Who would want to don the face of bravery in front of all those guests instead of run out to cry at the feet of Jesus? But if Mary is disappointed, she doesn’t show it; she knows her duty and fulfills it. It’s not glamorous, it’s not fun, but it is where she has been placed at that moment.

Secondly, after Martha has spoken with Jesus (and learned a lesson of her own—I’m following the storyline of Mary here, but these passages tell us a lot about Martha too. Don’t forget to take a look at that!), Mary finally gets her turn. I find it incredibly special that while Martha rushed out to meet Jesus unbidden, Mary’s patient obedience was rewarded by Jesus’ specific request to see her. He knew that Mary was hurting too, and He didn’t forget about her.

Furthermore, it’s worth noting that when Mary is called, she obeys—immediately. Obeying Jesus’ call is a source of joy and relief for her, knowing that she gets to spend time close to Him. In my own walk with God, this has been an important principle: obedience fosters intimacy. When we are where God has asked us to be, doing what God has asked us to do, we are able to experience closeness with Him in its best and truest form.

Now follow these three points to the result. Because Mary stayed to care for the Jews who had come to console her family, she was able to lead them to Jesus when the time was right. She took the time to care for the other people involved even when she was hurting and lonely, and her selflessness was an important tool in Jesus’ plan to show them His glory.

“Glamorous Christianity” has gotten very popular in recent years—everyone seems to be taking two-week mission trips to remote parts of the earth these days—and while God does call some to the frontlines, He calls so many more to work behind the scenes. Mary was content to do the latter, and her seemingly small role turned out to be integral in the salvation of many people.

viii. a healthy Christian values Jesus above absolutely everything else, and honors Him as priceless.

Jesus therefore, six days before the Passover, came to Bethany where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. So they made Him a supper there, and Martha was serving; but Lazarus was one of those reclining at the table with Him. Mary then took a pound of very costly perfume of pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair; and the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of His disciples, who was intending to betray Him, said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and given to poor people?” Now he said this, not because he was concerned about the poor, but because he was a thief, and as he had the money box, he used to pilfer what was put into it. Therefore Jesus said, “Let her alone, so that she may keep it for the day of My burial. For you always have the poor with you, but you do not always have Me.” (John 12:1-8)

It’s a fairly typical setup at a dinner gathering in Bethany: Lazarus dining with Jesus and the disciples, Martha serving as usual, and Mary doing something strange and seemingly out of place. This time, however, it’s not her sister who finds fault with her; it’s Judas, a decidedly unhealthy follower of Christ. Yet his question seems perfectly legitimate, and I wouldn’t be surprised to hear myself or many other Christians I know ask the same: “Why is she wasting something of such value, when it could have been used to do so much good?”

Three hundred denarii would be the equivalent of nearly a whole year’s salary at the time of Jesus. How many of us would give up an entire year’s wages to feed the poor—let alone to perfume Jesus’ feet? To avoid such a sacrifice, our instinct is to rationalize and make excuses, like Judas did. We cast judgment on those who act in this way, calling them “radicals” or “bad stewards.” But how can we truly justify our selfish unwillingness to pour out honor on Jesus—no matter what the cost—when He spared no expense to save our souls?

In conclusion, one final observation. In each of Mary’s three passages in Scripture, there is one common scene: Mary at the feet of Jesus. First, she is at His feet listening to His Word in Luke 10. Then she is pouring out the pain of her soul at His feet in John 11. Finally, she is worshiping Him and loving Him without reservation at His feet in John 12. Clearly, integral to the health of one’s relationship with Jesus is time—time spent working at that relationship and inviting Him into every moment and circumstance. Yes, the breach between you and Jesus was bridged through nothing you could do—only God could break down the wall of sin’s separation. But now that He has made reconciliation, you will only know the intimacy of a quality walk with God if you put effort into knowing Him, hearing Him, and obeying Him.

grace, weekly // 9

 

i. beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

ii. fluffy orange kitties that like to sleep in my lap.

iii. a whole seven weeks at home, unbroken—the longest stretch since before I moved to Florida in August 2012.

iv. learning 1:1 macro photography.

v. Oma.

I might have met her two or three times, but only actually talked to her once—almost eighteen months ago. The July sun baked the bricks of her house the color of rust, and her flowers craned their necks toward the blue sky. Pork chops, the best I’ve ever tasted, we consumed in embarrassing quantities; butter, blocks and blocks of it, we saw stacked in towers inside her fridge. There were loaves of thick-crusted bread, and napkins folded fancy at each setting. Pictures on the walls invited a glimpse into another time, and knickknacks on the shelves hid tantalizing stories of her visits to foreign lands. I could have listened to her thick German accent for hours.

I went to her memorial service this weekend. I could not mourn her death, because I knew how thrilled she was to go to Jesus after 91 years on this earth. But I did mourn that I had known her so little—that unlike her grandchildren and the kids that grew up in her neighborhood, I had missed a whole childhood, a whole lifetime, of knowing Oma.

vi. words:

This is usually my favorite method of healing.

vii. music:

I know I already posted the Piano Guys’ version of this song… but it’s my number-one favorite Christmas carol, especially on piano and strings.

viii. Bible:

In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God.
He was in the beginning with God.
All things came into being through Him,
and apart from Him nothing came into being
that has come into being.
In Him was life,
and the life was the Light of men.
The Light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not comprehend it. . . .
There was the true Light which,
coming into the world,
enlightens every man.
He was in the world,
and the world was made through Him,
and the world did not know Him.
He came to His own,
and those who were His own did not receive Him.
But as many as received Him,
to them He gave the right to become children of God,
even to those who believe in His name,
who were born, not of blood
nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man,
but of God.
And the Word became flesh,
and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory,
glory as of the only begotten from the Father,
full of grace and truth.

John 1:1-5, 9-14

Jesus. Eternal, pre-existing the entire physical and metaphysical worlds. Jesus. Equal to and one with (yet separate from) the God of Israel. Jesus. Creator of everything that exists. Jesus. The source of life. Jesus. A light of truth that penetrates into the darkness of sin. Jesus. The only Savior of His people Israel, yet rejected by them. Jesus. The one who welcomes with open arms anyone who chooses to follow Him. Jesus. The pathway to the Father. Jesus. Our brother who has agreed to share His inheritance with us, though we did nothing to earn it. Jesus. Fully man. Jesus. Fully God. Jesus. To Him be the glory.

Do not forget: Jesus is not just a baby that gives us the excuse to eat a lot of cookies and open a lot of presents. Jesus is truth embodied in the form of a man—grace captured in one selfless heart. Jesus was born, certainly. But Jesus also lived, died, and rose again. Don’t forget the rest of the story. (Hint: you can find it in the book of John.)

grace, weekly // 8

 

i. the winter sunsets by Mt. Hood.

ii. a weird frenzy of creative, constructive energy.

I’ve re-discovered the art of crochet, and with it I’ve come to an exciting realization: I’ve figured out a way to watch a movie in the evening and not feel guilty about being unproductive!

iii. looking back on a year of good growth in all respects—including photographically.

By the end of 2013, God willing I’ll have done sixteen portrait shoots, two couple shoots, two family shoots, a maternity shoot, a quinceanera, and a wedding. I’ll have nearly completed my certification as a professional photographer through the New York Institute of Photography. Even my little family of cameras has grown—from a single Nikon D40 and three lenses to a D40, a D7000, a Sony A700, and several new lens and flash pieces to play with. And I’m already looking forward to what projects I might get to do next year—which might involve another wedding—which might include traveling to Florida— :)

iv. catching up with friends, getting a much needed dose of solid discipleship, and browsing through forgotten Israel pictures.

v. Christmas tree shopping with the silsters.

vi. music:

vii. words:

“Where is God? Where can I find Him?” we ask.
We don’t realize that’s like a fish swimming frantically through the ocean in search of the ocean.
- Ted Dekker

viii. Bible:

My soul waits in silence for God only;
From Him is my salvation.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
My stronghold; I shall not be greatly shaken.
Psalm 62:1-2

My favorite phrase in this passage is the two little words, in silence.

We live in a loud world. Audibly or inaudibly, different things plead incessantly for our attention—television, social media, cell phones, family, friends, relatives, strangers, people in line behind us at an intersection, the semi-truck we just passed on the freeway. There is little silence to be found here unless we look for it.

Today I went walking, as usual. There was no wind, so not even the rush of a breeze past my ears broke the silence. I walked, prayed, admired the sunshine reflecting off Mt. Adams’ fresh snow. It was beautiful.