I Told You So

Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. Proverbs 16:24

The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks. Luke 6:45

 Do you ever look back on something you did or said and just cringe?!  How did you ever think that was a good idea?  Why on earth would you ever justify doing that?  How could you talk to someone that way?  Unfortunately, I’ve had many of those moments...insert foot in mouth.

A few years ago, I used a phrase that rarely brings good things—“I told you so.”  During a large event, a co-worker (not to mention a dear friend) of mine was extremely stressed.  We had discussed an issue about the event, but she had decided not to take my advice—which is fine.  Unfortunately, the night of the event, she panicked about the very issue we had discussed and came to tell me about it.  What an incredible moment for me to have comforted her, consoled her, helped her, done anything for her.  A moment that someone needed encouragement, validation, a hug.  But being stressed out with my own responsibilities, I simply said “I hate to say it, but I told you so.”

Ugh.  My cheeks still flush hot with shame when I think about that.  What a snarky, smart-aleck, insensitive comment.  What a misrepresentation of my heart, and God’s heart.  My dear friend simply looked at me and walked away distressed.

Of course the event went great that night.  But I didn’t enjoy any of it.  I felt so embarrassed and ashamed and guilty that I would belittle someone I love and show such poor leadership and insensitivity.  After the event, I asked if she would forgive me.

The power of words is so profound.  Rarely do our words have a neutral effect on someone.  Unless you say “I told you so—I TOLD you that you were going to be great!”  “I told you, you could do it!”  “I told you, you are so capable!”, don’t ever use that destructive phrase the way that I did.  It is so unhelpful, so unnecessary.  I wish I had that moment again so I could say, “How can I help?  It will be great!  Don’t worry!  Let’s figure it out together.”  Our words can positively or negatively affect people, and I want to choose to build people up with my words.  I want to be a Barnabus…his name means “Son of Encouragement.”  I love that!

I’m grateful for the grace and forgiveness my friend showed me, and for the opportunity, although it was a hard lesson, to learn just how powerful words can be.

Use them wisely…

Read and Lead

In a class during grad school, I was assigned to read parts of the book Spiritual Leadership by J. Oswald Chambers.  It’s a compact book about biblical principles of leadership that challenges, inspires, and encourages.  Because the content was originally a series of lectures, the book retained the feel of the spoken word, which I really liked.

One of my favorite sections of the book was Chapter 13—“The Leader and Reading.”  At the church where I work, serve, and worship, we place a high value on learning because we are taught that “all leaders are learners” and that effective leadership flows from a well-rounded, full life.  It’s important for leaders to stay fresh and be knowledgeable about the world in which they live, and one of the easiest ways to do that is by developing the habit of reading.

 

As a bibliophile, I was drawn to this chapter for deeper insight on how spiritual leadership and reading are connected.  Many of us claim to have no time for reading, but if one works 40 hours a week and sleeps 8 hours a night, that leaves 72 hours a week of “free” time!  Yet, less than 10% of the population reads regularly.  The leader who desires to grow spiritually and intellectually will devote time to reading.  John Wesley was a passionate reader, mostly devouring books propped in the pommel of his saddle as he rode horseback up to ninety miles a day!

 

The chapter encouraged the reader to read books, but to choose books that “spark our impulse to service and lead us to God.”  Books should also be read for intellectual growth, to cultivate one’s preaching and writing style, and to acquire new information.  Leaders should choose reading material that will “feed the soul and stimulate the mind.”  I appreciated that the importance of reading was recognized, but I think the value of fiction and literature was diminished by barely mentioning those genres and implying that more scholarly works are the ones that “lead us to God,” like historical works, biographies, and science.  The point is to choose books and materials wisely and for their spiritual benefit, but I believe that I have found books to be spiritually beneficial that are not overtly Christian or didactic.  Still, the chapter encouraged me to continue my pursuit to be an active reader while challenging my book choices.  I have decided to alternate reading my beloved fiction novels with other kinds of books.

 

Reading 30 minutes every day is the equivalent of reading a book a week, four books a month, about 50 books a year, and 500 books in 10 years.  If you were to read 500 books over the next 10 years, in a world where the average person reads less than a book a year, don’t you think it could give you a decisive advantage as you lead others?

 

It is easy to see why Spiritual Leadership is considered a classic study of the biblical principles of godly leadership.  God has given every Christian gifts and talents that fit the mission to which they were called, and what distinguishes a great leader is the degree to which they develop those gifts.  I found this book to be not only useful as I continue developing as a leader, but inspiring as well.

George Gray

I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me --
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire --
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.

--Edgar Lee Masters

Come to Me

Come to Me when you are weak and weary.  Rest snugly in my everlasting arms.  I do not despise your weakness, My child.  Actually, it draws Me closer to you, because weakness stirs up My compassion--My yearning to help.  Accept yourself in your weariness, knowing that I understand how difficult your journey has been.

Do not compare yourself with others, who seem to skip along their life-paths with ease.  Their journeys have been different from yours, and I have gifted them with abundant energy.  I have gifted you with fragility, providing opportunities for your spirit to blossom in My Presence.  Accept this gift as a sacred treasure: delicate, yet glowing with brilliant Light.  Rather than struggling to disguise or deny your weakness, allow Me to bless you richly through it.

Isaiah 42:3; Isaiah 54:10; Romans 8:26

This is from a torn-out page that a friend handed to me during a season of exhaustion last year...a season of exhaustion and frustration.  I happened upon this page tonight as I was organizing my room, and am so thankful I stumbled upon it.  I hate feeling weak, tired, and weary.  But I know where I can find safety, refuge, and rest.

Watchmen

Have you ever sung that upbeat worship song that goes, "Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord, we will wait upon the Lord, we will wait upon the Lord." I remember standing in church one time not singing along to it, just standing there stiff as a board while everyone around me was worshipping and I was just clenching my teeth.

Sometimes, I'm just not very good at waiting on God. Like being stuck in rush hour traffic, it just seems so...unproductive. I like to get things done. I like checking things off my to-do lists. I don't like the feeling of being stagnant or passive. In this ready-made, insta-everything, 30 minutes or less world, who wants to wait for anything?!

But I was thinking today about Psalm 130: 5-6...

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning
more than watchmen wait for the morning.

Watchmen wait with anticipation. Theirs isn't a passive waiting...it is active and expectant and hopeful. No matter how many hours of darkness, they know from experience that the morning will always come. As they wait for the sun to burst onto the horizon to signal the end of their watch, so are we to wait for God.

I'm reading a book that's all about practicing solitude and being silent in God's presence, called Invitation to Solitude and Silence: Experiencing God's Transforming Presence by Ruth Haley Barton, and it's really challenging me. I've realized how impatient I can be. Part of it is because I don't like waiting. I want results. I want resolution. I want answers. I want progress. And I want it asap. I want it now. I want it immediately....

But realizing that waiting on God is an active, engaging activity is a concept I'm constantly being taken back to. Like a watchman, I want my eyes to be practiced at recognizing that first ray of light in the morning sky. I want my whole being to strain to catch that first glimpse of God. I want to position my heart in a way that is ready to encounter him, that is longing and alert and aware of him.

I wait for the LORD, my whole soul yearns and waits...more than watchmen wait for the morning...more than watchmen wait for the morning.

To Thine Own Self be True...But How?

to be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you everybody else, means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting. --ee cummings

I first happened upon this quote in high school, and I always liked it...in theory. There's obviously something freeing and romantic and right about being exactly who you are, societal norms be damned. Screw punctuation rules, ee cummings! Forget the status quo! Seize your individuality! Carpe diem!

Some of us long to be ourselves and strive to explore our real identity, but we don't know how. Where do we even look for that, and how do we know we're being ourselves? Where does our identity come from? Is it what we do, what we have, what people say and think about us?

What if we WANT to be like everyone else? We've all heard, "To thine own self be true." But what if we don't want to be who we really are? What if we think being ourselves means being hopeless, confused, hurt, ashamed, ugly, a failure? Maybe there isn't freedom in being ourselves. Maybe being exactly who we are is the scariest thing of all. We are constantly validating--or undermining--our worth through things that are not sources of Life.

As Christians, many of us feel like we've got this identity thing down, but even in the "Christian world," I see conformity and comparison and competition. The identity game might not seem as worldly because it's based less on possessions and money, but it's often just as much determined by the esteem of others, reputation, and appearance. If you've been on more missions trips, clocked more hours serving, are in more small groups or Bible studies, or, heck, work at a church, then clearly you must be more pious, no? Clearly Jesus loves YOU more, right?

Carl Jung wrote, “The acceptance of oneself is…the epitome of a whole outlook on life. That I feed the hungry, that I forgive an insult, that I love my enemy in the name of Christ—all these are undoubtedly great virtues. What I do unto the least of my brethren, that I do unto Christ. But what if I should discover that the least amongst them all, the poorest of all the beggars, the most impudent of all the offenders, the very enemy himself—that these are within me, and that I myself stand in need of the alms of my own kindness—that I myself am the enemy who must be loved—what then? As a rule, the Christian’s attitude is then reversed; there is no longer any question of love or long-suffering…We refuse to admit ever having met this least among the lowly in ourselves.”

Apart from God there is no life. No truth. No real identity or worth or value. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by who God is and what he has done for us. Jesus isn’t the most important thing to find our identity in; he’s literally the only thing to find our identity in. The lies that we've identified ourselves with, the broken parts of our hearts and minds, the places of weakness--God can step in and heal and breathe new life and replace self-loathing with self-acceptance. And we have to claim that life...seize it, protect it, and guard it, because it's in THAT truth that we are able to find ourselves, to be exactly who we are, and to give glory to God. God has given us words, influence, heart, and desires...how are we to use them as expressions of who he is? That, friends, is the journey...

And I would call it a journey and not a battle, ee cummings, because although it takes time and effort and prayer and community and God and self-awareness to not compare and not feel discouraged, we are not fighting for victory. We're journeying in freedom from a victory that's already been won.

For in him we live and move and have our being. Acts 17:28.

David, the Giant

One of the defining moments of David’s early life was the fateful day that he battled and defeated the Philistine warrior Goliath in the Valley of Elah. David’s triumph over the champion from Gath has been immortalized in countless works of art, but none of them are as famous as the sculpture of David depicted by the High Renaissance master, Michelangelo. This, friends, is a masterpiece.

On our second day in Florence, we walked in the golden light of the late afternoon sun to the Galleria dell'Accademia, where David has stood since 1873. As you enter the museum and turn the corner, you find yourself at the beginning of a long hallway with the sculpture waiting for you at the end. I can't imagine anyone's response being less than a jaw-drop, a breathy “wow,” and complete awe. I have never been so moved by a work of art in my life.

Ironically, Florentines actually refer to David as "The Giant." Michelangelo’s monumental sculpture was the first nude to be carved on such a colossal scale since antiquity. Seriously, the most startling aspect of the sculpture was its towering size! David stands seventeen feet tall, which is eight feet taller than Goliath's height is recorded in the Bible (he was said to be six cubits and a span, which is near 9’9” tall)!

Michelangelo chose to depict David before the battle. His protruding muscles and swollen veins are taut and tense, as though adrenaline is starting to pump power through his restless body. His flexed torso, sturdy limbs, and oversized hands and feet reveal the strength we are to expect from him. He seriously looked so real, I could have sworn I saw him breathing. Hayley and I actually joked that we were waiting for him to move, and maybe wink at us...

A cool thing about Michelangelo's David is that it's not a self-contained composition; David’s head is abruptly turned and he seems to be emotionally connected to a presence that we do not see. And if you stand in the right spot, you can find yourself between David and his foe. He is not a static, relaxed figure; there is anxiety in his alert eyes, and he is standing casually to disguise his fear. He is ready to face the killer who had slayed every Israelite who had previously been sent into battle. Sometimes it's easy to forget that David was just a vulnerable adolescent who had no business slaying a giant! He had never been in battle, never carried a sword, never worn the uniform of the Israeli army...clearly, his success in battle was not a testament to his brutish strength or superior intelligence, but to his faith in God. In Psalm 108, David wrote “With God we will gain the victory…” What a great reminder to always acknowledge that it is God who brings victory, not our own strength or determination.

God also reminds us through David’s life that he judges his followers by their character and not their appearance. The Lord said to Samuel, “...man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). Michelangelo was commissioned by the city of Florence to create this sculpture from a poorly blocked out slab of marble that had been abandoned a generation earlier because of a dangerous flaw in the marble. Michelangelo was to “make, carry through and complete” it. He saw David in the marble and set him free. God also sees who we are below the “marble” that we try to cover ourselves and identify ourselves with, be it success, wealth, power, or fame. God looks at the heart.

David is such a popular subject in art history--why? He's complex. He's a paradox--the beautiful sculptures and paintings throughout history that depict his likeness reveal a hero, but a follower of Christ who has read about his life in the Old Testament also understands how broken and flawed he was, and that it was his faith in God that made him truly great. Charles Swindoll wrote that “Our world is desperately in need of models worth following. Authentic heroes. People of integrity, whose lives inspire us to do better, to climb higher, to stand taller.” David is just that—an authentic hero. The Bible does not make any pretenses about his failures and does not hide them; he's recognized as a flawed human, one who has made poor decisions in his life and suffered the consequences for them--something everyone can relate to. Yet, he is respected and remembered as a godly hero, and followers of Christ look to him as an example of how to cry out to God and how to rely on him continually in the midst of desperate circumstances.

The toughest situations that David found himself in were some of the most important moments of his life. In 2 Samuel 22: 2-3, he wrote “The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer; My God, my rock in whom I take refuge; My shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge…” David recognized that the living God was his security and support. These verses encourage me when I am exhausted and enduring my own battles to acknowledge the active God in my life the way that David did.

David had giant faith in the Lord and reminds us that in our weakness, in our times of confusion and uncertainty, we can take refuge in him. I love this sculpture with all my heart. It's not just stunningly beautiful to look at. It reminds me of David's character, and that his humility, integrity, and authenticity are what I want God to grow me in today.

Time to Reflect...

I love TV on DVD. Like, love it. There are no commercials. I get to watch the episodes in order. A Saturday morning marathon of my favorite show always challenges my desire to want to return to civilization or human interaction. I can easily watch a show for hours in my room, alone, with a pink snuggie, perfectly content.

After a morning binge of Grey’s Anatomy one weekend, I had lunch with a friend who mentioned that she had a headache. I immediately diagnosed her in my mind as having a hemorrhage or tumor. I mean, what better person to diagnose her?! I had just come from the operating tables of Seattle Grace Hospital, where I’m doing my residency…

Oh, wait…

It was funny to think that I had attempted to reflect my TV medical knowledge just because I had immersed myself in this world of doctors (not even real doctors!) for hours.

Switching gears, look at what David, a man after God’s own heart, wrote in Psalm 27:4—

One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.

I loved this because it made me ask myself why David wanted to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord. That’s what David actively sought. He spent time in God’s presence. He drew upon the truth of the scriptures. He spent time with God. Have you noticed that you reflect the things you pour your time into? Have you ever found your language or habits to be different after hanging out with a certain group of friends? Have you felt your mood change after listening to a certain type of music? Have you ever thought you were a doctor after watching Grey’s Anatomy for four hours?

We reflect the things we pour our time into.

2 Corinthians 3:18 reads: And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the LORDS’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the LORD, who is the spirit.

Our lives, words, and hearts all reflect something. It depends on what we spend our time on, and who we spend our time with. Are you seeking to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord? Do you know him well enough to recognize how beautiful he is?

God is love. He is the source of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…grace, mercy, justice, security, forgiveness, LIFE…those are the most beautiful things I can think of! What a beautiful God we love, and who loves us! That’s who I want to magnify…that’s whose likeness I want to be transformed into.

My soul magnifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior. Luke 1:46

Michelangelo's Pieta

Art has played a huge role in the way that I think about things, particularly my faith. To me, one of the most interesting things about Jesus were the seemingly mutually exclusive assertions that he was fully God and fully human. Now, how do you portray that in a painting or sculpture? Put yourself in an artist’s shoes…how would you depict someone as both fully man and fully God?

The life of Jesus has completely dominated the subject matter of Christian art from Roman times to the present day. One of the most important works of art in the world is Michelangelo’s Pieta (which I get to visit next month!). While you can find art depicting Jesus in countless ways, Michelangelo’s Pieta focuses on the humanity of Christ, as his lifeless body lays in the hands of his mother, after being taken off the cross.

The sculpture was commissioned in 1498. At that time, Michelangelo was still young and unknown; the Pieta immediately made him famous—in his early twenties (way to kill my self-esteem, Mic)! The sculpture is now in St. Peter’s in Rome.

Look at Mary’s face. It seems much younger than her son’s. Her face is youthful and peaceful, framed by the delicate folds of her robe. She looks timeless, leaning slightly over the lifeless body of Christ. Until the 15th Century, the subject of the pieta was almost exclusively found in northern Europe; the frightening figure of Jesus and Mary, often disfigured in her grief, seemed to distress people attending worship into an awareness of Christ’s sacrifice.

Michelangelo changed this subject completely. He does not emphasize Mary’s grief, but reveals to us a mother accepting fate with a look of spiritual and physical beauty. Michelangelo once wrote, “If life pleases us, death, being made by the hands of the same creator, should not displease us.” That sentiment is reflected in his sculpture. The only slight sign of Mary’s sorrow is her outstretched left hand. Instead of correlating the concept of the Redemption with grief, Mary generates a mood of classical serenity.

The body of Christ is life-sized, but Mary is much larger. If she were to stand, she would be around seven feet tall, although her head is the same size as Christ’s! Part of what makes this composition so astounding is that the unusual proportions go unnoticed by the viewer. The body of the dead Christ displays a keen knowledge of anatomy—the proportions, veins, muscles; the 16th-Century artist Vasari wrote that “No corpse could more completely resemble the dead than does this.” Michelangelo certainly succeeded in depicting in marble a body that reminds believers that Jesus suffered physically and died, that he had the same physical limitations as other humans. It seems that the only thing that one could interpret as divine about this depiction of Christ are his veins—one could interpret the protruding veins as still pumping with life, and therefore giving the viewer a glimpse of hope that Christ will rise again in three days. Though dead, he is still alive, hinting at the fact that this is not an ordinary man. Still, the humanity of Christ is emphasized here—there are no halos, angels, golden heavenly light, or thrones. All the viewer sees is a lifeless body, the body of a frail human, who made his dwelling among the rest of humanity; we also “see” his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth (John 1:14). Colossians 2:9 reads, “For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form…” Michelangelo had an extensive knowledge of anatomy and created the nude figure of Christ in that bodily form, as the very epitome of man—a figure in which there was no need, as he put it, "to make the human disappear behind the divine."

Michelangelo’s Pieta is, in my opinion, the most beautiful sculpture in the world. The serenity on Mary’s face, as she cradles the body of her lifeless son in her arms, is hauntingly beautiful. A work of deep piety, this sculpture reminds me that pain was a condition of redemption, but beauty is one of its consequences. The lucidity of Christ’s body in the lap of Mary reminds me that Christ “poured out his life” and “bore the sin of many.” (Isaiah 53:12) I am reminded of the extent of God’s love, but also the severity of my own sins. I am also reminded that Jesus came to earth, “but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” (Philippians 2:7) The redemption that Christ offers us is a reality and is available to us, for “it was not merely a finite human, but an infinite God who died.” This masterpiece is so beautiful and unforgettable that for most people, the term “pieta” evokes only the Pieta of St. Peter’s, because of the way that it speaks uniquely to every believer’s heart.

A Prayer

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen

God Loves Lady Gaga

A week ago, I saw Lady Gaga in concert with some of my best girlfriends. We got all dressed up in wigs and glitter and were excited for a fun night at the Staples Center in L.A. The show was amazing--Lady Gaga is quite an entertainer. She's extremely talented (in my opinion) and the production was incredible. But it wasn't the yummy dinner or the show or the awesome fake eyelashes or even my wonderful friends that I liked most about the night. I liked that the show, that Lady Gaga, got me thinking...

This concert was a worship experience. The power that music has to move you and create an intense emotional experience is undeniable. That's why music is such a powerful way that Christians connect with the heart of God. I noticed a similar connection at this concert. Lady Gaga said things from the stage like, "Jesus loves everyone," "love yourself," "be who you are," and "you were born this way." And many of her fans just drank up her words and used them to validate their identities and lifestyles. Fans dressed up exactly like her--they wanted to be her. "Paws up!" she would demand, and hands went up...the crowd did whatever she told them.

The interesting thing is that many of the things she said were true...almost. Yeah, be yourself, but how do you know who you are if you don't know who your creator is? Yes, Jesus loves everyone and accepts everyone, but he does not approve of everything that we do. Lady Gaga's message seemed innocent enough, but the danger under the sequined, interesting package that it's wrapped in is that it's more confusing than it is clear. And to talk about Jesus while you're covered in fake blood, dropping eff bombs, and gyrating with your backup dancers is creating a context that, no matter what you say, mocks him.

During the show (which, again, I did enjoy), I asked God to help me sort out my thoughts on things. And I don't know if this next thought came from him, or from me, but right after asking that, the next thought that popped into my head was "God loves her."

God loves Lady Gaga. He sent his son, Jesus Christ, to die for her sins. Mocking Christ is her way of dealing with pain in her life that she doesn't know what to do with. We make fun of the things that we're secretly uncomfortale with, after all; mocking is a way of coping. I haven't done any research on this woman, but I am convinced that she is afraid of, or has been hurt by, the church or something/someone associated with it. People are afraid of her weird antics, frightening costumes, and bloody performances, but I think calling her demon-possessed or the anti-Christ (yep, I've heard these things) is giving her too much credit! Really, I think they are afraid of the affluence and influence that she has that allow her to proclaim her messages of distorted truth. It's her platform of power that they're afraid of. If we looked a little closer, I think we would see a misguided and misled girl trying to make a difference in this world in a way that she knows how, and trying to feel significant and loved. She's a wounded, lost little 25-year-old girl. And weren't we all lost at one point? Isn't that why we all need the grace and wisdom and hope of Christ?

God loves Lady Gaga...his heart breaks for her. And it sounds weird to say, but mine kind of does, too.

Stressed < Loved

I've recently been reminded of how poorly my mind and body handle stress.

I'm a very busy Lisa Bee: I work full-time, go to seminary, try to work out a few times a week (major FAIL), and do some writing on the side. I'm struggling balancing my time between church, relationships, responsibilities, and down time. Unfortunately, I haven't been very good at time management lately; I find myself wishing I could wash my hair more often and read Entertainment Weekly, like, weekly.

I’m pretty sure my tolerance for stress is lower than the average bear’s. Outwardly, I generally don’t convey a high-strung demeanor or uptight tendencies, but I am easily overwhelmed by busyness, deadlines, confusion, and strife. Last week, I let the stress take over. I lost my appetite (the bulk of my food intake was a Girl Scout cookie here and there. Yeah, yeah, I know…don’t yell at me). Exhausted each night, I’d try falling asleep but would toss and turn into the morning, waking up a couple of hours later, starting each tomorrow more exhausted than its yesterday. Overwhelmed, my nerves sometimes caused my body to tremble uncontrollably. A heavy, hot ball of panic churned in the pit of my stomach. The dearth of sleep, peace, and nutrition helped me catch a head cold, too, so that was awesome.

It's times of stress like this that make me realize how much I covet feeling in control. I love when Everything Is Fine. The less unknown factors in my life, the better I am able to operate. Problem is…Life is unpredictable. We live in a changing, unstable, moving world, full of imperfect people, less than ideal circumstances, and unanticipated situations. The times that I am able to find a false sense of momentary security or comfort in feeling in control are so fleeting that I often fall on my face trying to chase after them and hold on to them.

Why do I let stress and fear paralyze me, drive my decisions, and destroy my body? God has been reminding me that the reason my mind and body are so burdened by stress and anxiety is because I’m not designed to harbor them. God tells us to cast all our anxiety on him because he cares for us. (2 Peter 5: 7) Wait…all of it? Are you sure, God? Can you handle it? Are you sure your grace is sufficient for me?

There is one good thing about all this stress—it reminds me of how helpless I am without God. My heart is so prone to wander away from God's truths, yet he is the one source of real strength and power, of peace and comfort.

No matter how often my heart does wander, my shepherd will always, always draw me back to a place where I can set my heart at rest (1 John 3:18). I feel lighter just thinking about how sovereign and in control he is. And how extravagantly he loves us…how extravagantly he loves me.

Hiding in the Heart of God

Hide in the heart of God.

What does that mean?

I once wrote down every name that God is called throughout the book of Psalms—my refuge, my rock, my shield, my fortress, my stronghold, my deliverer…Those names mean protection, strength, and safety. And God is the ultimate provider of those things. We can rest in His presence—hide in Him—when we feel anxious, overwhelmed, hurt, helpless, hopeless, or defeated. God is our shield and our strength.

For many of us, fear, anxiety, guilt, and shame keep us from seeking refuge in God, because we feel unworthy, unlovable, or ashamed to approach Him. So we “hide” in other things instead.

I know that I have a tendency to hide in my circumstances and make excuses for not having enough time for God, to hide in worry and let it dissolve my trust in Him, and to hide in anxiety and let it rob me of the rest and reassurance that God wants to cover me with. What do you hide in? Relationships? Schedules? School and work? Financial stuff? The list never stops, really. But we need to learn to hide in the heart of the God who created us, chose us, loves us, and protects us, instead of letting our view of reality be manipulated by our often fickle emotions or distorted sense of identity.

Author Brennan Manning wrote that the heart of God is Jesus’ hiding place, a strong protective space where God is near, where connection is renewed, where trust, love, and self-awareness never die, but are rekindled. In times of opposition, rejection, hatred, frustration, busyness, or danger, Jesus retreats to that hiding place where he is loved. In times of weakness and fear, a gentle strength and mighty perseverance are born there. In the face of mounting incomprehension and mistrust, the Father alone understands him.

That’s the place where I want to hide.

What does hiding in the heart of God look like? It's as simple as taking five or ten minutes to pray, a word of surrender or repentance, a commitment to trust, to read a verse or two, or to quote a song that expresses God’s love for you. It's taking a moment to shift your perspective.

It is better to take refuge in the LORD than to trust in man.
Psalm 118:8 (NIV)

He is a shield for all who take refuge in him.
Psalm 18:30 (NIV)

The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
My God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.
He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
Psalm 18:2 (NIV)

You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.
Psalm 32:7 (NIV)

Hide in the heart of God.

Christians Are Hard to Tolerate; I Don't Know How Jesus Does It. --Bono

I'm reading a book for a class I'm taking on evangelism (a word that instills terrific fear in the hearts of many, I know) called They Like Jesus, but Not the Church. Yikes.

This book's purpose is to examine how Christians and the church come across to the "emerging generation," 18 to 35-year-olds. To put it bluntly, the book talks about all the stupid crap that Christians do to misrepresent Jesus...all the bullhorns and sandwich boards on the street corners telling people they are going to hell, the bumper stickers that say "Abortion is Murder!" and the T-shirts that say homosexuality is a sin. No wonder people think the church is negative and judgmental, homophobic, oppressive, and controlling. No wonder people don't want to be a part of a church, of a community, that really does stand up for the poor and oppressed, that is mobilized to serve others, that follows a God who lavishes us with his gifts of grace and mercy and whose greatest commandment is to love one another.

Every ten minutes or so as I read this book, some sort of sigh or "ugh" escapes from my lips; this book churns my stomach with conviction as I read it, because I know I am so often a stupid, judgmental, selfish, insensitive Christian too. I pray to God that I will not be the reason that someone doesn't like the church, that I would not get in the way of someone seeing the love, grace, and truth of Jesus.

Here's what I want to say to those of you who are open to the teachings of Jesus but do not like the church:

Jesus is real. Maybe you know this. Maybe you don't. I wish I could make Jesus real to you. I wish I could put a sense of longing in your heart, a desperation in your eyes for him. Keep seeking.

I know Jesus. I love Jesus. But I am fantastically inept at reflecting who he is to you, and to the world. I am sorry for this, and I hope you'll forgive my forever shortcomings. I hope that my imperfect life won't hinder you from knowing his power and perfection. And I hope that the collective church has not disenchanted your perception of who Christ is.

Christians have disappointed you. Shown you hostility. Spoken to you sanctimoniously. Demonstrated hypocricy. Embodied greed. Turned a blind eye. Communicated ignorantly. And maybe worst of all...expressed their faith inauthentically.

But Jesus will do none of those things. Ever.

Maybe you're going to church...and that's good. You're showing up into the kind of places where you and God might meet. Maybe you will meet Jesus. Maybe you won't. Maybe you already have but haven't acknowledged it for some reason...I don't know.

I pray every day for you, and I hope you don't think that sounds condescending. I want you to understand that I believe in Jesus enough to care about your eternity...and your life. And as much as my heart breaks for you to know him, his heart breaks for you so much more.

I love you. Jesus loves you, too.

Cease

The NASB translation of the Bible contains this version of Psalm 46:10—

Cease striving and know that I am God.

Many Christians know this verse as “Be still and know that I am God”—it’s short and sweet and looks really great on DaySpring greeting cards with sunshine and flowers. But I had never heard it this way before, and it seemed to capture what I’ve been feeling for a while now.

First, a thought on striving: It’s not an inherently bad thing. How on earth would you grow, learn, and improve unless you challenged and stretched yourself by creating goals, taking it to the limit, going out on a limb? We strive to do the right thing when we are caught in ethical and moral dilemmas, say the right thing to that person that needs comforting and encouragement, to be good people, better people.

I’ve been asking myself lately if I’m striving for the right things or for the right reasons. I often find myself striving for approval—mostly from myself and the impossible standards that I burden myself with, but also for approval from others. I feel like I have to convince people that I’m worth their time, that I’m cool and smart, relevant and fun. I feel like meeting people is sometimes an audition--give 'em the old razzle dazzle, knock 'em dead, break a leg--and I dread the critics’ feedback. Four stars? Poignant and charming? Vapid and a waste of time? A work of art…a masterpiece?

Cease striving, Lisa.

We’re all striving for things that don’t matter, whether we are consciously aware of it or not. We strive to be in control, to create order, to look better than her in a bikini, to bench more than that bro, to raise “better” kids than theirs, to have the most facebook friends and re-tweets, to own the greenest lawn and most expensive car on the block. We arm ourselves with stuff and mistake it for worth; we arm ourselves with information and pass it off as intelligence; we stuff our calendars with church activities and think it's piety. We’re always ready with our hat tricks, trump cards, check mates, last laughs, and one-ups.

Cease striving.

We want to have it All Together. We are terrified of drowning in irrelevance, in The Ordinary. But by striving to keep our heads above water, maybe we're not seeing that we already are in too deep.

This habit of striving sneaks into my spiritual life and creates a busy, graceless relationship with God. Where did it get to the point that I decided I needed to induce his love? That grace was earned? That I forgot to stop Martha-ing and sit at his feet in complete awe?

Brennan Manning writes, “I’ve decided that if I had my life to live over again, I would not only climb more mountains, swim more rivers, and watch more sunsets; I wouldn’t only jettison my hot water bottle, raincoat, umbrella, parachute, and raft; I would not only go barefoot earlier in the spring and stay out later in the fall; but I would devote not one more minute to monitoring my spiritual growth. No, not one…what would I actually do if I had it to do all over again? Heeding [the gospel of] John’s counsel, I would simply do the next thing in love.”

Cease striving. Cease striving. Cease striving.

Cease.

What Child Is This?

You've probably seen a little version of this Italian Baroque masterpiece on the top right corners of many an envelope this year. Every Christmas, the U.S. Postal Service releases fun collections of holiday stamps. They also issue a “traditional” holiday stamp that features the Madonna and Child, which has been an annual practice since 1978. This year, the traditional stamp featured this painting by Sassoferrato.

The first time I saw it, I had to stop and stare…

Mary tenderly cradles the Christ child in her arms, holding him with elegance and grace, softly resting her cheek on the top of his head while two sweet cherubs look down upon them with devotion. It’s a simple composition—there is no backround, only a few clouds that create a timeless, eternal setting. The Madonna and Child are not enthroned in a regal church or earthly landscape setting, not bogged down by big halos or golden crowns, not clothed in jewel-encrusted and fur-trimmed robes.

It’s the mystical, luminous, divine aura that shows us this is not a normal maternal scene. It is the serenity in Mary’s face, the peaceful sleep of the Christ child, and the mystical sense that he is not an ordinary baby that creates a captivating atmosphere; Mary knows that her son was not just given to her, but to all of humanity. The divine light that bathes the figures in this painting is such a beautiful illustration of the hope that the birth of Christ illuminates the world with on Christmas.

Jesus said to the people, "I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won't be stumbling through the darnkess, because you will have the light that leads to life." John 8:12

May your Christmas be merry and bright.

Donne and Done

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,

Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

This is one of my favorite poems, called “Death Be Not Proud.” It was written by John Donne, one of Britain's most famous priests and poets. Now, I love poetry, but I don’t want to pretend like I understand it all the time, especially Donne. But I think this poem, after you read it a few times, reveals a lot of God’s truth.

Donne is acknowledging that God has defeated death, just as it says in 2 Timothy that Christ has “destroyed death.” Therefore, its threat has been removed and we no longer need to fear it, for it “shall be no more” and we will “wake eternally.”

Have you ever thought about what will happen to you when you die? Many of us do see death as an enemy, as something to fear, something that threatens us, something “mighty and dreadfull.” But God did not intend for us to die.

At this time of year, we celebrate the birth of Jesus, who was God’s gift to humanity: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) And how do we receive that gift of eternal life? The Bible says in Romans 10:9 that “if you confess with your mouth ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.’”

Wow…when was the last time you thought about the gift of everlasting life? When was the last time you were excited about it? I won’t ever be able to completely comprehend what everlasting life means! But as we celebrate Christmas this month, this poem reminds me of one of the many reasons I can celebrate! We can face death with peace, knowing that through it, God will bring to himself those who believe in him...Paul knew this when he wrote, “...to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21) That’s definitely reason to rejoice!

Donne was right. Death has died, and eternal life can be ours…

I tell you the truth, he who believes has everlasting life. John 6:47

Thankful

Last night I saw The Road. You know how much I love the book. I had been anticipating the film's release for a long time, although I was prepared to be disappointed. After all, making a Pulitzer Prize-winning book into a film must be daunting. Would the film do it justice? Well, yes; it actually did. It’s as haunting and unforgettable as the book.

The Road, simply put, is a story about a father and son fighting to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. One of my favorite scenes in the movie is a conversation the father has with his boy, teaching him to always keep “carrying the fire inside.” He instills hope in his son when it doesn’t make any sense and urges him to never give up. During that conversation, I thought, what is keeping that fire in their hearts from going out? They’re sitting on top of a lifeless planet, starving, and being hunted by the “bad guys,” and yet, they choose to hope. And it turned out, there was a reason for it.

I originally started this post to write something Thanksgivingy. I wanted to list some things I’m thankful for, like peppermint stick ice cream and honest people. But after seeing this movie, I’m just thankful that God has given me hope in something greater than myself or the things of this world. And I’m thankful for my family and friends who bring me comfort and joy, who challenge me, and who love me.

May we be thankful for all the things that ignite the fire of hope in our hearts.

Happy Thanksgiving.

The Forgotten

It's trendy to be part of a cause, but when it comes down to it, not many people believe in something enough for it to impact or change the way they live their lives. It's easy to wear TOMS Shoes or a rubber bracelet, or to purchase something you normally would that just happens to benefit a cause. But when a world problem asks more of us, the answer is often no.

That's not the case at Crave, the college-age ministry at Saddleback Church. Some of the most compassionate and mobilized students on the planet are involved in this ministry. They are not afraid to sacrifice their time or money or energy or resources. They do what it takes to make a difference in the lives that society has ignored and forgotten.

A few weeks ago, Crave held an art show to promote "The Forgotten," a new name to the face of Crave's outreach ministries. (These pics are all from the show.) 450 people attended this event! Over 40 artists displayed 100 works of art, including paintings, drawings, photography, graphic design, fashion design, and video media. There were also performaces--music, skits, and poetry. These weren't professional artists, just college kids from Orange County--talented students who have been moved by their experiences with serving those who society has deemed the least, the last, and the lost. Their artwork was a response to the poverty, pain, disease, and needs that they've seen around the world and in Orange County. These students have slept in the streets of Skid Row, spent months in Africa, gotten up at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings to go to Compton and do physical labor all day, spent their own money to show Christ's love to people in developing countries instead of on vacations with their friends. One student is learning Russian at Saddleback College because she wants to devote her life to serving the people of Ukraine.

These students aren't rich or spiritual nutcases. They are just ordinary students--18 to 24-year-olds--responding to God's call to serve and love. And it's not always easy finding the courage or strength to be obedient to that call...

The point of the art show was to create an awareness for "The Forgotten" and to give students the opportunities to sign up for outreach ministries. Over fifty students signed up to serve! These students will start tutoring high schoolers in Santa Ana, building relationships with kids at juvenile hall, supporting orphans in Orange County and street children in Rwanda and Ukraine, and visiting the elderly.
I'm so proud of this ministry. Our students are constantly challenging me and teaching me about what denying myself, taking up my cross, and following God really means (Mark 8:34). I'm so thankful for them...it's a blessing seeing God changing their lives and the lives of others through Crave, a ministry that God has used to change my life, too.

Support The Forgotten on facebook!

The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of.--Blaise Pascal

Do you usually make decisions based on your emotions, trusting that if you "go with your heart," you'll do what's best? Or do you try not to let your emotions get the best of you and instead base your decisions more on reason? When your heart wants to call that person but you know you shouldn't, what do you do? Go with your gut? Or put the phone down?

What about when it comes to your understanding of God? The quote in the title of this post shows that heart and reason are definitely connected, but in Pascal's "Pensées," or "Thoughts," he stresses the role of the heart, rather than reason, in our knowledge of God. Pascal writes, “We know the truth, not only through our reason, but also through our heart.” Although he doesn’t criticize reason, he explains its limitations. “As if reason could be the only way in which we can learn!” There are an infinite number of things which are beyond our reason…for example, supernatural things.

The role of the heart is stressed in Pascal's writing, but the Bible says that the heart is deceitful. We can’t always trust our feelings. Our emotions can distort reality. For example, I know that when I am feeling bad about myself, sometimes I project that feeling onto God and feel that that is how he sees me, which is not the truth. Our hearts, our emotions, can distort our reason. So reason and heart are connected.

While I agree with Pascal that the heart is an important factor in our knowledge of God, I think that reason is also important, and I don’t know that I would consider one more important than the other. I think there needs to be a balance. Galileo said “I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use.” Now, Pascal didn’t say that we should forgo our use of reason, but I love that quote because it does remind us that our use of reason comes from God, too.

Pascal says that the inability to prove God’s existence by reason demonstrates the weakness of our reason, not the uncertainty of our knowledge, so we need to “humble reason,” which would like to be the judge of everything. He also says that it’s just as dangerous for someone to know God without knowing their misery as it is for someone to know their misery without knowing the Redeemer who can heal them. I love that, because he's making the point that the heart has to be involved in order to understand the Gospel and what a relationship with Jesus is. Can you know God without loving him and knowing who you are in relation to him?

I find Pascal's concept so relevant to my own journey of finding a relationship with God. When I first started seeking God, “reason” was the driving force for me. I needed evidence and answers to my questions. Soon though, the heart aspect became a factor. When I felt that I was presented with enough evidence about the resurrection and realized in my heart that he is Lord and Savior, I committed my life to Christ. Now that my heart is so much more involved, evidence isn’t as important an issue for me because I am connected to my savior, but I really think it takes both reason and heart to have a knowledge of God. It did for me, anyway. So, while I appreciate Pascal’s focus on the involvement of the heart in our knowledge of God, I also don’t want reason to be humbled any more than Pascal has humbled it.

What do you think? Heart first? Or is reason best?