The Fragrance of Life

Combining your seminary education with life application, you wind up with the sweet blend of a fragrant aroma…

Last week before Thanksgiving, my church small group gathered food and money for a “pounding.”  I had never heard it termed that, so if you haven’t either, a pounding is where a group of people collect a “pound” of food and give it to another family to fill their pantry.  We weren’t literal with it, but each person gave as they could or felt led, and we put all the food together to give to a local family of four who had fallen on hard times.  They were a part of our faith family, believers who had gone through some extreme circumstances and were struggling to get on their feet, but were obediently praising Christ in their difficulties and willingly relying on the help of their brothers and sisters to share their burdens. 

As we sat in their home, listening to the sharing of their testimonies, I recalled a passage of Scripture we had discussed in class the week before.  2 Corinthians 2:14-16:

“But thanks be to God, who always puts us on display in Christ, and spreads through us in every place the scent of knowing Him. For to God we are the fragrance of Christ among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing. To some we are a scent of death leading to death, but to others, a scent of life leading to life. And who is competent for this?”

Here the application struck me a little differently.  In class we had discussed the evangelical and missional context and implications of this passage.  But in this home, we weren’t spreading the Gospel to unbelievers.  We weren’t concerned over the eternal lives of these people because they are family already.  But [thankfully] God uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ in every place.  And even in the home of our believing friends, we were the fragrance of life leading to life, a beautiful and pleasing aroma to our Lord. 

I’ll let Paul wrap it up with this:

“Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”  Ephesians 5:1-2

City Upon a Hill

Someone said to me today, “You don’t need a degree to be a missionary.” I write this as an encouragement to readers who attend seminary and to those who do not, to those who are missionaries across the world, and to those who are living the Great Commission at our back door.
I have a friend who is a sort of “self-appointed mentor” to a number of Liberian refugee children who live in government housing projects. The household of 3 or 4 male children is being raised by their refugee mother alone who barely speaks English and certainly has a different idea of parenting skills. This past weekend, my friend approached me with some questions (since I have a background in family counseling). The children had told my friend that the mother had been showing them pornographic videos at a very young age in order to prevent them from wanting to watch the videos when they were older. She had been watching the videos with the boys of various ages. He also told me about how he had taken them to church with him and when he dropped them off at their apartment later that evening, the mother was not home and did not return home for several hours. The boys were left outside without a key for several hours into the already dark evening in one of the most unsafe neighborhoods in the city.
While my friend and I discussed the legal implications of this as well as the level of inappropriateness in parenting style, the point that I wish to make here is focused elsewhere… Because my friend has his faith grounded in our Holy Father, he is able to minister to this family in need of a Savior. He offers guidance and hope to these young boys whose mother seemingly unknowingly breaks her children’s hearts and souls by burying them deep in sexual immorality and abandonment. My friend is perhaps the only reflection of Christ they see throughout their week.
Let’s look at it this way: Somewhere in a dark, rent-controlled apartment lives a family who struggles against the world and has no light of hope. Across the city lives a single, 20-something, just out of college with the Light of the World in his heart. They are just another family trying to make it in the dark. He is an ordinary person trying to figure out what’s next. But he serves a God who is not just another god. And he lives with a faith that is not just an ordinary faith. And because of this extraordinary faith, he walks in obedience with the One True God who sheds light in all the dark places.
Whether we are in seminary or working a secular job, whether we are finishing up a doctorate or completing a GED, whether we are preaching to the masses from a pulpit or from behind a counter to an audience of one, if we are children of God we are missionaries. I will let my friend admonish you to remember the extraordinary God whom you serve and to seek Him out where He is working, then join Him regardless of your present circumstances. Somewhere, on the other side of the city, someone is waiting in the dark for a light to come on. Don’t be afraid to go into the dark places because that is precisely where the Light is needed. And only those who have the Light can share it.

Reflecting an image

imago Dei. In His image.




At creation God’s purpose for me is to worship Him and obey Him and, by these means, bring glory to His name. As was recently discussed in my Old Testament class, the nuance of Genesis 1:26-27 is not that God created us to look like Himself, but rather to be His image on Earth — in other words, to reflect characteristics of God to all of creation. This, in turn, will magnify His glory, if done properly. The great tragedy is that at the Fall of mankind, the image of God in man was fractured, shattered like a mirror, no longer able to accurately reflect the image of a Holy God.



I am a shattered mirror. And like a shattered mirror, my splintered, broken reflection often draws more attention to itself than it does the image of the Sovereign Creator. But. The Gospel restores my cracked and fractured image, allowing me to reflect more acceptably the image of my Redeemer.



I can’t take credit for the beauty of this mirror analogy. (Dr. Robinson’s knack for the use of imagery is present in a number of my posts.) So for the second time this semester, I’m about to walk through The Story Training Guide, first in class and again in the upcoming weeks with the young professionals class at my local church. If The Story isn’t familiar to you, I recommend you take a minute now to stop and introduce yourself to it by clicking the website here: TheStoryTraining.com. You won’t regret it.



Anyway, my self-assigned task for at least a couple of days during the next few weeks, as I re-examine the narrative of the Gospel with Dr. Reid and other young pros, is to find a small, portable mirror somewhere in my seminary apartment and take it around with me, not just in my bag or purse, but on my person. My little mirror is going to serve as just one reminder on those days of 1) my role in accurately reflecting Christ to the world 2) how fragile my witness can be if I am not mindful of it and 3) that, by God’s love and sacrifice, I am a restored image of a Holy Creator.



This idea has the potential to be a creative reminder… or possibly a painful experience. I’ll let you know how it works out for me, and whether or not I end up with a shattered mirror in my back pocket.

The importance of one

I am currently 1/3 of the way through my first semester mid-terms and while my brain feels like it has hit maximum capacity, I know there’s much more to learn. So let me take a break from studying to share with you my latest perspective.




For three years preceding my move to Southeastern, I led a weekly Bible study for high school girls. When I signed on to volunteer, my intentions were to become more involved in my church and serve the Lord consistently in this new capacity. I had little idea what this ministry would become for me over the course of the next 3 years as I watched a group of 7 high school freshmen turn from teenagers into beautiful young women of faith. By the time the Lord called me to move from Tennessee to North Carolina, my younger sisters in Christ were entering their senior year in high school, and I was grieved at the thought of leaving them at such a crucial time in their lives. Knowing that the Lord didn’t need me to complete any work in their lives, I tearfully left our small group trusting that God would provide for “my girls” (as I endearingly term them) and hoping for the continued privilege of playing a small part in their lives.



God has indeed answered my prayers in allowing me to maintain communication with these girls and hear some of their recent stories. With social media being the primary means of communication for their generation, I receive numerous text messages from week to week highlighting how the Lord is working out His plan for each of them. I’ve been so blessed and extremely encouraged to read messages such as, “Pray for my friend at work, she keeps asking me about church.” Another message reported, “I bought my friend a Bible and we’ve been talking about God. She got saved during tonight’s church service!” And still another text informs me that at 18, an honorable young lady is excited about her first boyfriend (who has recently talked to her parents and asked for permission to date her). Just this weekend, I received a picture text of one of the girls wearing a crown after winning the homecoming title at her Christian school. Her classmates voted for her under the theme “Faithfulness.” That same weekend I catch word that she led an acoustic worship set for her high school youth group on Sunday night.



I am both encouraged and humbled beyond words to acknowledge that over the past 3 years God assigned to me the task of discipling these 7 young ladies as they grow into faithful, young women who love and serve Christ. The significance of pouring my life and service into these girls is not lost on me as I read and learn of the model of discipleship Christ provided in His written plan of evangelism. Appropriately, this is a recurring topic as I speak to professors and sit in classes here at SEBTS — this idea of placing the emphasis on quality versus quantity, discipleship to the few versus preaching to the multitudes (without, of course, de-emphasizing the importance of mass communication of the Gospel). Something to think about: “When discipleship is the means of growth, the result is greater orthodoxy.”

Waves of mercy, Waves of grace

It was just a few Saturday afternoons ago that I stood knee deep in foaming saltwater watching monstrosity after monstrosity of Atlantic waves swell up to crash mercilessly over the top of my head.  Fear welled up in my stomach as plans of escape flew through my mind like rapid-fire at the coming of each new wave.  I'm pretty sure Clark noted the look of terror on my face when he doubtfully asked me how much fun I was having.  Then he dove in head-first as I cowered backwards into yet another mini-tsunami.  Sometimes I wish I had the faith he does. 

***
Professor Robinson has quickly won my heart with his passion and pursuit of the Great Commission which he relates whole-heartedly to us students every Thursday for 3 hours in our Evangelism class.
His latest analogy was that of a wave crashing down, bearing God's wrath on its belly and consuming sinners (kinda like the waters of Wrightsville Beach attempted to consume me that weekend!)  On the backside of God's waves, shallow, foaming waters of mercy swirl around to calm and comfort us.  You can see why this analogy was easy for me to relate to!
As we continued on in class last week engaged in the portion of Dr. Robinson's lecture on the bilingual tongue of our Lord's wrath and mercy, I was all but overwhelmed by feelings of conviction, fear, conviction again... mercy, grace, more conviction... raw emotion, aaand probably a little more conviction.  You can never have enough of that anyway, right?
Coming from a secular university, this is all too new to me, and I'm enraptured by the fact that I am privileged and blessed to be chosen by my Lord to sit in these classrooms and be filled up by the Truth of the Gospel so that I can pour out the Word of hope, mercy, and grace to a lost world in need of Jesus! 

I don't want to fall under any pretense and say that I'm good at this by any means. And I certainly don't want to allow the presumption that I immediately leave the classroom and begin evangelizing.  Unfortunately, I'm still a flawed sinner.  But I'm here to learn and grow in my walk with Christ, and this Evangelism class is certainly being used by God to stretch me out of the parameters of my comfort zone. It has become my petition to the Lord to break down the walls in my heart and teach me to dive head-first in bold service to my King with the assurance that I will resurface on the backside of his bubbling eddies of compassion and favor.

2+what?

Yesterday marked a pretty significant event in my early time here at Southeastern.  I know what you're thinking, and it's not the beach, even though that was a pretty awesome trip!
The 2012 Deployment Brunch for 2+2 students.  You read me correctly, 2+2.  Under wise counsel, I made the decision to begin my studies under the degree category otherwise known as M.Div for International Church Planting while remaining in a state of indecision between that and the MA Intercultural Studies.  Soooo now you're caught up, back to brunch.  This was a meeting to inform us of the requirements and details of the program, let me summarize it for some of you: 60 hours of credit on campus in 2 years, the remainder of credit hours in a 2 year deployment overseas (essentially the Journeyman program).

After the meeting, not only was I undecided, I was overcome with fear... and questions... primarily how?
How can I obtain a 60 credit hour degree in 2 years? How can I afford to do so financially? How can I go overseas alone? ...Just a few, but the most unsettling, to say the least.  And you get the idea.

As I stood in the church service this morning repeating the worship lyrics, "I trust in You; I trust in You," I had to question, do I really believe, Lord, that you are my portion? Do I really believe Jesus is more than enough for me? And all that I need?
I had to bow my head and repent from this fear that grips my heart when I think of the road upon which God has placed my feet.  In my spirit of fear, I did not trust my Sovereign King, and I needed to be reminded that He has not given me a spirit of fear, but one of power, of love, and a sound mind. 

Will I fear again? Absolutely.  It's my nature to sin.  I hate it.  Jesus hates it more than I do.  But His grace and mercy are so incredibly overwhelming and His Spirit is ever-empowering as I learn my sin and practice walking with Him. 

God's provision has been endless as I've made my steps onto the campus at Southeastern.  God has allowed me to make this physical journey with a friend, a continual blessing and comfort.  He has permitted me a job working in childcare, humbling that He will select me to show love to His little ones.  And He has connected Clark and I with a couple of friends with whom we can continue the search for a church home, which I'm certain is not far in the future.

I'm looking forward to visiting home in the next week to share encouragement and love with my Knoxville family.  Your consistent prayers are evident both in sight and in spirit in my life and you cannot begin to imagine my gratitude to you for continuing walking in ministry with me even 300+ miles away :-)



And yes I'm 2 and a half hours away from the beach ;-)

I Survived Da Imu!*

Well I survived one week of seminary!!!  Let's have a recap :-)
So far this week I have managed to.....
Discover Wake Forest, Raleigh, Durham, AND Chapel Hill.  Complete student orientation.  Register for classes.  Re-register and change almost my entire schedule the following day.  Go for a bike ride alone while talking on the phone (love you Kari :) ).  Attend one day of classes.  Bash myself in the back of the head with my books while exiting a bathroom stall.  Lose at CatchPhrase on game night.  Cook one dinner.  Eat numerous bologna sandwiches.  Find a park for bike riding.  Meet all male friends and one female.  Get invited to a stranger's birthday party.  Discover Clark's roommate is the male version of my good friend Rachel (love you too ;) ).  Grow accustomed to a new roommate.  Stay up late every night and sleep in every day (I had good intentions).  Have a run-in with the maintenance man (few are privy to details).  Job hunt endlessly online and to no avail.  Lock myself out of my apartment with no shoes, make-up, cell phone or any other personal belonging.  Party at open mic night on a Sonic patio.  And lastly almost attend a "teen night" function at a shady building akin to a church. 


All in all, I think I'm adjusting pretty well... wouldn't you say? I mean, up to all the familiar antics and whatnot.  If you want to hear details, you'll just have to ask me.  Full versions of stories (mine anyways) are far too long for blogging. 
While I can always have lots of good laughs at myself (if you can't laugh at you, who can ya laugh at?), I have to admit I've moved rather unwillingly into that quiet stage that I do when I first begin anything.  For those of you who've never seen this side of me and wonder to what I'm referring, you can ask Meggan or maybe even Rachel.  There's this side of me that thinks she has to observe and soak in everything in this stifling state of quietude, and I really hate it about myself.  But I know I'll get comfortable enough eventually to open up and then I'll feel like "me" again.  Don't worry Wake Forest, I'll bring out the cheese soon enough!!


And positively, I've been on time to everything so far!! (I'd tell you the truth and say I've actually been early to things, but I know you won't believe me).  And I'm teaching myself (and trying really hard) to maintain some sort of organized chaos with my books and notes and endless checklists!


*in case you were wondering, or for those who just want to get culturally stretched, an imu is an underground oven used to roast pigs at Hawaiian luaus.  Basically, a hot pit of coals.  Yeah, you may have seen those guys in grass skirts walk across them.  Get the reference? :)

The beginning of the beginning

"A person's soul is in grave danger when the knowledge of doctrine surpasses Jesus, avoiding intimate touch with Him." -- Oswald Chambers

I want to share part of my quiet time with you, so that you'll know how you can pray for me, if you find the Spirit leads you to think of me in your quiet time of worship with the Lord.  I won't be too bold by assuming that you're going to be thinking of me in your most intimate time with God, but I do covet your thoughts and prayers because I know I'll be requiring much intercession in the coming days, weeks, months.... and semesters, if you will :)

John 20:
11but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus' body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
13They asked her, "Woman, why are you crying?"
"They have taken my Lord away," she said, "and I don't know where they have put him." 14At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.
15"Woman," he said, "why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?"
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him."

Sometimes I can relate to Mary, sitting there, a big emotional mess, and wondering where Jesus is.  I wonder how often it is that I, like Mary, am looking for the wrong thing.  Some other god or idol, something dead and in a tomb.  The problem is I forget who Jesus is -- what He looks like, sounds like, how He acts -- when I'm away from Him for too long.  What I need in my life is a consistent reminder of the character of my Lord.  If I don't spend time with Jesus, I'll too mistake him for a gardener! 
Poor Mary, she obviously didn't know the difference between a trowel and a hammer.
But then, there are times when I think Jesus looks a lot like... well, Morgan.  :(

16Jesus said to her, "Mary."
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, "Rabboni!" (which means Teacher).
17Jesus said, "Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet returned to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, 'I am returning to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.' "
18Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: "I have seen the Lord!" And she told them that he had said these things to her.

I don't want to only recognize Jesus when He calls me by name.  He shouldn't have to use my middle name, "Morgan Brooke!" to get my attention like a mother scolding a misbehaving child.  I long to recognize the presence of my Lord and to remember His character as the resurrected, living One who saves me from Hell and gives me the will and the ability to live today for His glory.  I should know Him in a way that fires me up to run and tell my brothers, "I have seen the Lord!" 

Tomorrow starts the first day of classes, and as I've been warned, I'll need to remember that maintenance of a personal relationship with Jesus remains essential.  The Bible cannot become my textbook.  Jesus is not merely my subject of study. 

So again, I covet your prayers of fortitude as I launch into this journey as a first-year student of Southeastern Seminary.

Revamp!

It is well beyond due time for an aesthetic revamp of my physical blog!  And it's only fitting, seeing as how my whole life is physically changing in the next week.

I won't bore you with too many details of which you are probably already aware, but I do want to reflect and re-reflect over the happenings of the past year and a half, motivated by reading over my initial blog entry, entitled "What's Next?" 

I quite vividly remember typing up that blog entry, sitting in the floor of my new apartment (Emily, Kari and I didn't even have furniture yet), wondering confusedly, yet patiently, what was in store for me.  

How humbling it is now to be able to stand and look back at what I've learned:

Over the past year and a half, my eyes have been opened so much to the brokenness of the world -- the detriment of sin, the price it requires, and the generational payment of its debt.  I can't say it hasn't aged me.  But I can say that it has humbled me and increased my understanding of the need for grace, as well as the necessity of increasing man's knowledge and attainment of grace.  Nothing in this broken world functions without it.  

On a lighter note, I can also say that I have personally experienced in more fullness the magnitude of God's faithfulness, and as juvenile as it may sound, learned that I can trust Him.  Simply put.  It's so beautiful to say and to know it in truth.  

And how exciting to be able to step forward into where I'm going:

For the past several months I've been preparing to move to North Carolina to attend Southeastern Seminary to pursue a career in short term missions, which I believe is God's call to my life.
God is leading me with a peace that transcends all understanding to begin this new adventure.  I wish I could put into words for you how confident I feel taking this next step.  I don't mean to say that I know exactly where I'll go from there or what I'll do, but God has given me the wisdom to know obedience is momentary, and His vision is far broader than mine.  So I'll take this step in obedience and pray for more wisdom and guidance as I pursue my education and career at seminary.

Of course I have fears, misgivings, and even tears at leaving what has been my home for the past 6 years.  I'll miss my friends and my church family more than I can even comprehend at this point, and being 11 hours from my family won't make visits easy.
Do I feel prepared to attend class with scholars and students filled with far more Godly wisdom and knowledge than I've ever dreamed of having? No.
Do I feel capable of walking in the steps of the path God has laid out before me? Not at all.
Do I know I can do anything with the power of the Spirit which raised Christ from the dead?! Right now I do.  Haha, I mean let's be transparent here.  I'll forget that a few times before I remember it again.  But I do know that God's provision this far in my life foreshadows His continual presence through the remainder of it, and gives proof to the promises that He will fulfill His good work in me.


By the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain . . . —1 Corinthians 15:10

So I'm not worried!  I have confidence in Christ's sovereignty.  I have capability in the Spirit who lives in me.  And I have encouragement in fellowship with my "partners in ministry" (that's a fancy way of saying, YOU!).

So it is again time for me to Get Up and Stand on my feet.  The mission God has placed before me is to live as a servant and as a witness to the things which I have seen and those which He will show me. (Acts 26:16) And having been greatly humbled, loved, and lead, I take up my cross in surrender and follow my Lord to North Carolina... For now.

Book Review?

Let me just say that I am completely and utterly obsessed..... with the Twilight Saga. Don't stop reading. I am only slightly embarassed to admit it; I guess I've come to terms with the fact that despite trying not to be "of the world" I still fall victim to natural human longings.
Aaaand, being a counselor, I of course psycho-analyzed my obsession and broke it down into the following discourse. As I'm clearly not the only woman in the US who enjoyed the book thoroughly, you should pay attention and see if this applies to you too ;-)

Bella, the more than clumsy, desires-to-be heroine of the book with less than perfect features and a self esteem problem, does have the ability to make her readers laugh out loud in an empty room -- don't lie you did it, too -- and (case in point) relate. Don't we all want to feel like the outcast when we analyze the qualities of each person in a new setting while we subconsciously select which ones make us feel the most comfortable and accepted.
And who doesn't understand the fear that every athletically incompetent (or even semi-competent) girl has felt at some point while being asked to perform a physical activity in front of a crowd of peers? The difference is that fear sends most of us to the sidelines, while Bella forces us to experience with her the humility of serving a ball into the flashy smile of a barely-acquaintance of the opposite gender.
Well, the one area in which every girl can find a common ground with Bella is... dum dum dum... Edward. Oh you knew it was coming. So obvious... but Why?

I mean, I personally have never longed for an icy cold boyfriend to snuggle up to... never yearned for a guy who'd rather eat (or drink from) me than take me on a date... not really ever been interested in someone who was going to continue looking smokin' hot while I shrivel into convalescence and drown in the sorrows of my insecurity (I'm rather looking forward to not giving a rat's tail about what I look like when I'm 65! Let's just be honest...)
But there's something about Edward Cullen... And I think I can name a few things that are slightly more appealing to Bella, and the American female reader... some of the real reasons why Twilight has been the craze and continues to grip our gender in its paperback grasps.


What is every girl looking for?

Comfort and Security
Edward is SUPER-strong/fast and with his ability to read minds, he is always one step ahead. That certainly offers Bella a level of protection against the odds (which in her clumsy case is highly necessary) that provides her with the knowledge that very little could actually place her in danger. I mean she has an indestructible guardian who knows what everyone is thinking and has a sister watching Bella's future to warn him of any impending danger. As a result, Bella always feels safe, and we as readers feel safe for her. No worries!

Devoted Love and unhindered affection... that lasts... eternally
Edward will live forever. And Bella has the option, if she so chooses (don't worry I won't ruin it for you if you haven't read all the books) to become immortal as well, spending the rest of their undead lives, or at least the rest of time at the finite world's expense, together! Well, isn't that what every girl wants... a doting male with eyes ONLY for her, shunning every other girl (or really not even noticing any other girl), and to top it all off, one that will never ever go away? Even those who are married (and living in the realistic world where there are no vampires) want to believe that after this life there is some existence in which they will be united with their "soul mates." I'd like to think that someday I'll be in Heaven praising Jesus with my mate from this earthly life.
But who knows what comes next? Well, Bella does... at least she has the option of knowing. Must be nice, wouldn't the feminine world agree?

Attraction
Oh come on, like I wasn't going to mention the fact that Edward has unsurpassable physical qualities... he's hot! He's got rock hard abs, bronze hair, amber-colored eyes for crying out loud, and the guy glitters in the sunlight! I mean geez! (You know we girls are suckers for anything sparkly, right? I worry that my roommate's eyes will pop out of her head like a paperclip drawn to a magnet when a woman with bling on her left hand is anywhere within a 10 foot radius.)
Ok, ok, female hormones aside, that's not the attraction I want to point out, though it is important. The attraction I'm talking about is the pull of something good. She knows Edward's heart is kind; sees his humanity, no pun intended, when he confesses drinking animal blood instead of human and proclaiming how he does not want to be a monster; and adores his selflessness as he blames himself for every fault and takes responsibility for every course of action with its negative result. In short, Edward accepts all of Bella's faults and even takes responsibility for the pitiful choices she makes which never-surprisingly lead to some kind of small disaster or greater course of compromise. Then he takes those choices, and well, to put it simply, fixes everything while protecting her. Sigh. Clearly, this is not really about attraction, but more about redemption.

I think you're probably beginning to see where I'm going with this :-)

Bella has what we all dream about... a perfect, safe, unhindered, redeeming type of love relationship. The one you only read about in books. The kind we women think we can never find in a man!
I hate to be Debbie Downer and all, but it's true; you can't find that type of love in a man -- but you can find it.

That true love story IS real; and it's offered to every woman (and every man, technically).
Jesus offers that love story.. he offers us unconditional, unhindered, redeeming, and eternal love love LOVE! We just choose to sit up late reading about it in a clearly fictional book about vampires; we immerse ourselves in one of our favorite Notebook-esque movies; or we put the weight and responsibility of it on the shoulders of another sinful, imperfect human being... and find ourselves disappointed when he inevitably fails to meet our exceptionally high expectations.

Easily we could receive that perfect love... could make ourselves the heroine of that epic love tale... by accepting the gift that Christ offers us -- the love He wants to share; but that's so hard to do. And why? All because it's not tangible. We can't touch, see, or hear Him, in the literal sense, and so we don't accept Him as number one. We put Him number 2, 3, or 4 -- behind the movie, book, or blameless male.

I think we can all be a part of our own novels of true love and right relationships. If we do things the way God intended, by knowing Him first and finding ultimate satisfaction in His completeness, I believe we can survive and thrive in the imperfect human relationships we endeavor to maintain. Because when we are satisfied in God, the disappointments of the world don't seem nearly as detrimental or destructive. When we are satisfied with the Lord, forgiveness and mercy are at our fingertips to overcome human error. And when we are satisfied in Christ Jesus, we don't have to try to settle for finding true love in a book or movie -- we have that perfect love in us and it automatically overflows so we can share it with others.

Question Mark

Humility. I always wonder to myself, "Am I humble?" I think if I were to answer in the positive, it would negate any sense of humility I might previously have carried. But to answer in the negative makes me feel as though I am lacking a certain level of confidence that we must carry in order to allow ourselves to be used effectively. It would be debilitating not to be confident to some extent -- the key is to find confidence in Christ, I believe, and not in ourselves.

Wait. Is that where humility comes from? Finding confidence in Christ to accomplish, and forgetting myself completely. But then, do you ever realize you've completed this task? And if you do, does that negate your humility??



I think I'm going in circles.... it hurts my brain.



Lord, You are sovereign. You are Creator of all things. You are bigger than all things. Remind me that You are all there is, and allow me to forget myself. I don't care whether I am aware of my humility, just help me not to be prideful, and make me aware of Your Greatness.

amen

Philippians 2:1-3
"Imitating Christ's Humility"
1If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, 2then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. 3Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.

Ramblings

I think I'm officially the worst blogger ever. I doubt if anyone even checks to read anymore because I don't update frequent enough to draw attention. I think it's a general blogging rule that to maintain consistent interest, you should post once every 2-3 weeks, or at least monthly. I fail. haha oh well

One thing blogging has taught me is that I love to write and reflect. And that I wish I had more time to do so.

I think I'll just ramble a little tonight. I've learned a lot from God lately. Or I should say I've had to be reminded of a lot of things, which isn't as positive as learning, but keeps me in check nonetheless.

1. REST. God says to rest in Him. And I cannot go on unless I do. Or at least my goings-on are pointless without re-energizing in Him by setting my mind and heart on Him and His purpose.

2. I'm a masterpiece. No one can do what I do the way I do it and that's why God has me where He has me. This is also a product of every experience, good and bad, that I've been through. All a product of God's sovereign will. And my thoughts about myself should bring glory to Him when I look at myself from that perspective.

3. My purpose is to be Holy and...eventually...someday... be like Him.

4. It's not about me. Even number 3 is not about me. Being Holy is about bringing glory to Him. Being Holy is about pouring out to others what He has filled up in me. I'm not commanded to be holy just for self-betterification (you like that one?). It's not about me :-)

5. I am who He has created me to be. My prayer should not always be for His creation to be changed, but rather that I will surrender this creation to His use. (And leave Him to determine what areas need to be changed, molded, to be made holy.)


Also, I'm a little obsessed with the Jimmy Needham cd. You should download it or buy it. It's a little blues-y and his voice is mmm-hmmm. Let me know if you likey ;-)

Come Around
"We pass out paper facts all week but they won’t come around
We can debate theology but they won’t come around
Apologetic reasoning but they won’t come around, come around
There’s only one way they’ll come and its love"

A Tale of Two Dads

The first is the father of Eleanor. Easily the biggest fan of Israeli women's softball, with her wispy blonde curls fighting the wind underneath her white, over-size, backwards baseball cap, she quickly charmed everyone at the field into being "her friend." Anything but shy, she humorously informed me that "mosquito came to town" on my kneecap. She then educated me on the Hebrew name of the Israeli version of a ladybug, which happened to be her favorite. We sat in the stands, lemonade pops dripping stickily down arms and onto the bleachers, and I taught her how to cheer the team on; at least until it was time to wash the sugary sweet lemon juice off her arms. I leapt at the opportunity because Eleanor made you smile with her contagious and addictive four-year-old personality.
What does this have to do with Eleanor's father? Everything. You see, Eleanor's father brought her to a softball game a while back, and with her incredible personality, she won hearts and invitations from the players to return and watch some more games. Her father brought her back. He sat patiently while she bounded around the park, all the while keeping an eye on her. He bought her ice cream, after teaching her the patience to wait past 10 am to have it. He played catch with her when she grew tired of sitting on the uncomfortable wooden bleachers. And he taught her manners and to be polite as she made new friends all around the softball park. He gave her hugs and kisses and smiled proudly at her winning charm and personality.

The second father is an unknown name and a face of a little girl on an airplane with her mother and siblings. I don't know her name so we'll call her Anna. Anna pranced around the front of the airplane as if it were her center stage. She smiled and curtsied in her thick winter coat and denim ruffled skirt. My friend James was sitting indian-style next to me in the front section where Anna pranced around while we played cards. Anna charmed her way into our hearts as well, tip-toeing into the middle of our circle and placing a solid hand of solace on James' shoulder as though she were 30 years his elder. Then, she popped him in the nose with her tiny fist, much to our enjoyment and laughter! For several minutes she slipped in and out of our line of vision, always smiling her sweet little two-year old smile in James' direction. "She misses her father," Anna's mother informed us. "It's been a month since she's seen him, and so she likes men better."

If this were a parable, put roughly, I think it would go something like this:
There were two fathers, one each with a daughter. The first father tended to his daughter with much affection and attention, and she grew up to love him and his way and she had many friends and much laughter. The second father loved his daughter but was separated from her for a time and was unable to raise her up in his way. She strayed from him and filled the void of her father with other things in this life which were not always good.
John 15:5

There is a very LARGE and DEMANDING call from fathers. I'm not one, so I can't say that I know very much about it, but I can say it is obvious to me how important that role is just by examining the lives of young children I work with and observe in various places.

I do know about the role of my Heavenly Father, however; and that should I be separated from Him for a time, I will stray and begin to fill His void with other things which are not satisfying and cannot ultimately take His place. Nonetheless, He loves me, and if I remain with Him, I will be fruitful.

Dads, it is your job to teach your daughters about their relationship with God. You are the earthly model of what that relationship should look like, and like it or not, you are the earthly model of what that relationship will look like. Feel like that's a lot in a man's hands? Whew, I feel for ya, brothers; you better start praying about that one if you haven't already!!

The parable of this counselor

I love what I do. I love to talk about it. I have passion in my heart for the children whose lives I work to change and I can tell you exactly why I began this work and why I continue to do it, despite the trials it brings in my own life and the struggles I watch others face.
Yet I find that in the midst of my work, I lose my fervor as I drive along, day to day, house to house. I grow weary of the evils I witness (like child abuse) and also fall victim to my own selfish desires (like getting off work at a decent hour). All of these things creep in and blind me of that passion. The briars grow up in my eyes and the thorns poke me til the tears come.
So occasionally I do my job half-heartedly and accomplish very little, minus a good release of wet emotion. But I guarantee you if someone comes along and asks me what I do for a living, I can answer them in no less than a 10 minute spill on what I do and why I do it and not with false earnesty.
And so I end up with beautiful, meaningful, moving words about my passion; and dead, impactless work.
What kind of soil does that make me?

Regrettably, I find my relationship with the Lord mirroring the path my career has taken. It's so easy sometimes to tell our testimony -- to recount the story of how we came to know Christ, and how we fell in love with Him in the beginning. Of course I know why I loved God in the first place! He rescued me from the sin I was in and gave me what no one else could!!
But can I, today, say that that same passion continues to burn inside me? Or am I a smoldering pile of coal and ashes that can't even light dry thorns and briars on fire?!

Rev 2:3-5 Warns us to turn back to that initial passion. To not forget how and why we loved Jesus in the beginning of our new lives with Him.
I love this verse and think of it often when I am struggling with my relationship with God because it brings me back to the first days when I knew Him, just after meeting Him.

I still remember my friend, Lalo, in Mexico giving a sermon in which he reminded us that if you do not continue to sufficiently feed yourself with God's Word, your fire will die out. We must tend to the coals to continue the flame.

*****

And still one of the most intriguing things I find here is that Jesus used the parable of the sower as an illustration the people could relate to very long ago.
Presently and for me, He used the illustration of my job to relate to my relationship with Him. Funny how He still teaches us in parables, don't you think?

What parables is Jesus using in your life to open up your eyes to His teaching? Remember that He speaks to us not only in His Word.

Bound for the Holy Land!!

Friends, I am headed for Israel and I am PUMPED!! As the "cashier guy" I met at Wal-mart last weekend put it, "There is no place on this earth you can be that is closer to where Jesus was!"
I'm literally gonna follow in His footsteps! haha :-)

So really, we are going to be helping with the Maccabiah Jewish Olympic softball games. (Ah, I love softball.) According to my friend's blog, there may be some issues with where the games are being held due to not having appropriate licensure... you can read the article for yourself if you're interested.
What this says to me is that mean old devil doesn't like what's going on here! He may be trying to stop what God has planned. But I know Who's in charge and I'm encouraged at the thought of being a part of His mighty mighty plan for His chosen people.

You can be a part of this journey by being in prayer for my friends and I for safety in travel, clean hands and pure hearts, maintaining our health in the heat, and for open eyes to opportunities. I pray the Spirit fills us each until our cups run over. I pray that Morgan runs out quickly, so that God steps in and takes up that much more space.

I can't wait to get back and update you on the trip. God bless you and thank you for your fellowship in the Lord!

Jer 31:31
Isaiah 53:5

He's not finished with me yet!

The car had been sitting in the pouring rain for almost 3 hours in stand-still traffic before finally breaking past the police officer who was blocking the left lane and slowing things down. It couldn't have been more than 5 or 10 minutes of steady driving before the accident happened. The car was moving along about 60 mph when the driver felt it begin to drift to the right. The driver tried to make a correction with the steering wheel, hesitated on hitting the brake, and then instinct took over. The tap on the brake sent the car further to the right; an adjustment in the opposite direction with the wheel made minimal difference, and with a second push on the brake pedal, the car swung the rest of the way to the right and the driver knew the vehicle was no longer under control. The driver was oriented enough to know the car had completed a 180 and was now sliding backwards and down into the ditch.

The sound of rock raking and cutting into glass drowned out the sound of the driver shouting, "Please, Lord Jesus; God protect me. Jesus, please."
Even that wasn't enough to drown out the thoughts.

Is this it? What is going to happen before the car stops?

The interior grew darker, signifying that the car had turned upside down, and it continued to slide a few more feet, rock scraping metal now, until coming to a stop.

Still here. Gotta get out of the car.
"Okay calm down; stay calm and think."
The driver's mind and mouth were in competition.

Gotta get out; how do people stay in here for hours?
"No, just get calm and think."
I need out of here.
"Lord, please just get me out of here. Please let me out of here!"

Recalling a previous wreck, the driver reached for the window button to roll it down.

Can get out the window. Ok.
Turn the car off.
"Stay calm."

Hearing that the car was still running, the driver reached out a finger and hit the keyless start button, then kicked of the remaining, dangling flip flop.

Seat belt.

Releasing the seat belt made the driver realize things were still upside down.
The first attempt out the driver side window was unsuccessful -- the bank was too close and too steep.

"Lord, please, don't let me stay in here. Just get me outta here."
Think. Cell phone. Other side.

The driver reached up, no, down; there was a gaping hole where the ash tray and cell phone had flung out. Then, crawling across the black and shattered sunroof to the other side, the driver envisioned a vehicle stopped in the middle of the intersection in front of her apartment complex. Not too many months ago, this had been the scene of an accident where the operator of the vehicle had to be cut out by emergency services because the door of their car had been pushed in by a side-on collision. Now the image pushed into the forefront of this driver's mind as she reached for the window button on the passenger side.... down, no, up.

Almost to freedom, she slid out and up the rocky, muddy slope on her stomach, rain hitting her face as she emerged from the cover of the upside down vehicle. Turning around, her back against the slippery, jagged slope, she sat down on a rock ledge and pushed up with her arms behind her, releasing her legs from the gaping window. In an effort to get far from the vehicle, she turned, climbed a foot or two and sat again.

Looking down through the rain from a few feet above the metal bottom of the car, heart racing, breathing out the deepest breath since the car first lost control, I put my elbows on my knees, my face in my hands and cried, "Thank you, Lord; Oh Lord, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

A young man's voice shouted, "Are you okay? Is anyone else in the vehicle?" I looked up already knowing two cars had pulled over just up the interstate; I patted my legs and said, "I'm fine. There's no one else, just me." They immediately began calling 911, and one of the ladies helped me climb down from the wet, rocky, embankment and across the ditch which was quickly filling ankle-deep with water from the downpour. The young man, in scrubs, looked at me eyes wide and repeated 2 or 3 more times in disbelief, "Are you sure you're okay?"
He walked me to his car and waited with me for the police to arrive. He was a doctor in his residency at Vanderbilt, and soon began asking me questions and assessing whether my answers were coherent.
It was a long time before I was able to make decent conversation with the doctor. I gave him only quick responses before checking the wreckage over my shoulder again and again through the passenger window of his upright SUV. I could only wonder how I just crawled out from that mess. Without a single scratch. Not a cut, not a bruise, no pain... Nothing. The answer to his question came the same each time... I'm fine...

My hands were unsteady and I wrung them til they were dry. My clothes were sopping wet and my hair clung to me, drenched from the rain. I wasn't cold but I shook to the bone. The sight of my car made my stomach turn, and my head began to ache. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, none of which I can remember, except that I wanted to throw up, and also that my parents were nearly a hundred miles away. And then, something that had been repeating in my mind over and over finally pushed it's way to the surface and took on its lyrical form like a thunderbolt jarring my mind to the reality of what actually just happened: God brought me out of the wreckage, unharmed, for a reason.


There is hope for me yet
Because God won't forget
all the plans He's made for me
I'll have to wait and see
He's not finished with me yet

The words to Brandon Heath's new song rang so clearly in my mind, I thought I must have been listening to it on the radio when I lost control of the car for it to keep repeating in my head the way that it was. (I later found out I was, in fact, listening to a rap station ;-) )

40 minutes passed before the police arrived, and the young doctor went on his way. 2 cops came and went, and the ambulance and fire department vehicles came, fulfilled their duties and left. The wrecker came, flipped the car; I unloaded my things, moved them to the remaining police car; and the wrecker was on his way with what was left of my car.

Both bumpers had been dragged off. The driver's side was cut deeply by the rocks, the back door pushed in. The roof and windshield from the top center of the car all the way across the driver side was spiderwebbed and mashed in. No airbags deployed; I had been protected only by my seatbelt, and the hands of my Father.
At the wreck site, I stood, nauseated, and stared for a long hour at the sharp-edged embankment covered by unearthed mud and the long grasses and sticks that were pulled in the direction of my car for a good ten yards at least. I could and can still hear the rock scraping the glass. Every detail, every thought you read (among others) plays out clearly in my mind. The most pressing of all: Is this it?

Well, that wasn't it. And knowing just a couple of days ago my breath of existence was questionable -- friend, I can't explain to you what it's like to live and breath and walk with the factual assurance that God kept me on earth for a reason. I'll be thankful if next time I can be assured by faith alone; and hopefully God won't have to flip me upside down to remind me each day that I'm still here means that my Kingdom work is not yet complete.

Phil 1:6
"...being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. "
Jer 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Good ol' Southern gospel time

God warped my Sunday schedule a little bit -- missed my Sunday afternoon nap, canceled Bible study with the high schoolers, and skipped church at Sevier Heights... so I could attend service at a small church in Elk Valley, TN.
This small, rural valley about an hour north of Knoxville is the location of our high schoolers' recent mission trip. New Canaan church is a small, one room, white church building with a bell that the pastor rings to let the community know it's time to gather in the Lord's house and worship together. The congregation consisted of maybe thirty people. The pastor played the piano, his son the electric guitar, while the choir stood at the front on-stage and led the members and visitors in numbered hymns from books kept in the backs of the pews.
The altar stood front and center of the aisle, prepared for elbows, fists, and tears.
I listened to "amen's" and grunts of agreement, watched hands raised, and an older gentleman stand and clap solo.
The worship was so moving and the congregation continued to throw out requests to be played. We sang for an hour and a half, led by the Spirit, and the preacher didn't even give a sermon.

It was wonderful to participate in a service that flowed so freely, without structure or bounds. And the simple, country way worship was led in this austere sanctuary took me back to a small church in Finger, TN where I was saved, and reminded me of the excitement, depth, and meaning of my first love.

Break my heart for what breaks Yours...

I'm officially the worst blogger ever. Here's my June post I guess haha....

Having trouble getting focused. The stress of working with so many broken families is weighing heavily on me this week in particular for some reason. The bruises on a young child's arms brought me down to tears this week, and I protested why the world must be so evil.
But I know my God has His merciful hand on us all. How undeserving are we, and yet how blessed that He offers us grace to cover our hideous sins!
I accept it, Lord, because I know that I need it as much as every murderer, adulterer, and thief that ever lived!

In my grief this week, I remembered my friend overseas who is combating sex trafficking, and in all my hurt, I knew his angst must be ten thousand times worse, battling the evils of lust and his own righteous anger from day to day. My prayers go out to you, my friend, if I can understand even a portion of the pain you must suffer and battle not to become accustomed to each day. God's strength for you, because I know it is the only strength that will do.

You think you know what hurt and brokenness is in the world... until you visit it daily at your back door. Until you develop a relationship with the people and know their thoughts and their responses -- and why they think and react that way.
Can you imagine trying to change that without presenting them boldly with the only real reason to change their lives and be different???
Neither can I.
That's why I pray for the Spirit to fill me in each session, in each conversation, in order that God may be manifest through me, and that He will be glorified in what I present.
As I said, I am struggling this week with maintaining that focus.

Refreshing lyrics from the song Hosanna are my prayer as I write this. Please pray for my friend overseas as well, and the women he is working to free. And also for the child with bruises.

Heal my heart and make it clean.
Open up my eyes to the things unseen.
Show me how to love like you have loved me.
Break my heart for what breaks yours.
Everything I am for your kingdom's cause.

Max Q

We launched the Bible study!!

Sunday night 05/24/09 was our introductory night for Max Q-- Andy Stanley and Stuart Hall's student journal on becoming a student of influence without being influenced!

7 girls showed up, 15 books are ordered for those interested. We went over the introduction of the book and I got some feedback from the girls who were there, which was encouraging!

Turned out the girls were just as excited about the study as I am, and they seemed satisfied with the text selection. We'll be revisiting 1 Tim 4 several times throughout the study also.

*******

We took a break on 05/31 because the high schoolers took a mission trip, and we re-convened on 06/07 for our first week of the study. We took a look at having lost friends -- why we do, why we don't, and why we should!!
We're picking back up next week with week 2 of the study -- why it's worth it to face persecution in order to be a student of influence for Christ!

My Personal Theme Song

I would just like to thank Emily for pointing me in the direction of this lyrical genius. It is by far the theme to both her life and my own.

A little musical snack to prove to you that Christian comedy can be funny too :-)

Click here to watch the video.... and if you know how to post a youtube video on here where you can play it without navigating away from the page, that would be much cooler, so educate me please :-)