To Be An Intern

Work It Out

2010-01-02T23:19:00.002-07:00

Have you ever forgotten what it's like to be new? Not the "I've never been here before, but I've got five friends over there waiting for me" but the wide-eyed, sweat forming, panic inducing, awkward conversation new. I never cease to amaze myself at how quickly I come full circle back to thinking I've got it all figured out.

Good thing God likes to give me a good push when I'm off balance.

Reality of the situation is my ego runs so far ahead of me I get lost. I stop at the gas station and they tell me it passed three days ago. I think I have it all figured out far too often. Then I'm brought to a rude awakening when brick wall meets face. There isn't much give there, I learn very quickly how ignorant I really am.

How do I get to that place? How do I forget what it's like to be a child? To ask questions, to listen, to absorb. To cry when it hurts, laugh when it's funny, and wear my heart on my sleeve. Pouting and all. I spend so much time trying to grow up I forget learning is the point of the journey.

It takes practice. It takes sweat, blood and tears to really get a handle on things. It takes the willingness to listen to those who are much further along than you and constantly be reevaluating. I'm so inadequate, so far short of the mark. I get in the way too often. When I need to listen, I nod my head and pretend I knew it all along.

Help remove me from this equation. Though it pains me to say it, humble me.

What Do I Know of Holy?

2009-07-14T00:20:00.003-06:00

Addison Road - What Do I Know of Holy?

I made You promises a thousand times

I tried to hear from Heaven

But I talked the whole time

I think I made You too small

I never feared You at all No

If You touched my face would I know You?

Looked into my eyes could I behold You?

What do I know of You

Who spoke me into motion?

Where have I even stood

But the shore along Your ocean?

Are You fire? Are You fury?

Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?

What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

I guess I thought that I had figured You out

I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about

How You were mighty to save

Those were only empty words on a page

Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be

The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees

What do I know of You

Who spoke me into motion?

Where have I even stood

But the shore along Your ocean?

Are You fire? Are You fury?

Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?

What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

What do I know of Holy?

What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame?

And a God who gave life "its" name?

What do I know of Holy?

Of the One who the angels praise?

All creation knows Your name

On earth and heaven above

What do I know of this love?

What do I know of You

Who spoke me into motion?

Where have I even stood

But the shore along Your ocean?

Are You fire? Are You fury?

Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?

What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

What do I know of Holy?

Every once in awhile, something catches me in just the right way. Knocks the wind right out of my lungs, and pulls my feet out from under me, leaving me laying on the ground staring straight up at the endless sky. As clouds meander overhead, my head is busy attempting to reconcile the events of the previous seconds.

What do we know of God? Who can accurately portray infinite? Who dare to say they have tamed a wild lion?

We put him into a little box, wrap a string around it, and declare it right, perfect, and pretty. And then we leave it to gather dust. Occassionally, that box taps us on the shoulder and pulls us out of our own prison back into the wide world. We talk about mighty, while we picture a quaint old man who cares for us.

From time to time, when we are least expecting it, the thunder rolls in, the lightning strikes, and we are jolted into a realization that we knew nothing. All that talk of power, might, wonder rushes through our bodies, and our only possible reaction is to fall to our knees, begging mercy.

My heart opens up, and my eyes flutter open. I'm staring at that same blue sky, with those same meandering clouds. Only now, I'm seeing them in colour for the first time, bursting forth with life. My only fear is that it will fade, and it will be far too long before I remember who it is that I worship.

Bring me to my knees.

Priorities

2009-07-11T00:09:00.002-06:00

"If you want to give it all you've got," Jesus replied, "go sell your possessions; give everything to the poor. All your wealth will then be in heaven. Then come follow me."

Fiction is such a powerful tool. It's exceptionally easy to tell someone exactly what they need to hear, straight on. It's a whole other to teach the principles behind what you are saying. Something about stories captures the imagination, and roots itself deeply in our memories. Be it that we should look deeper than a title (Aladdin), or that we should never get caught up in worshipping an object, rather than God (The Last Battle), they teach us lessons in ways that engrain themselves on our psyche.

It never ceases to amaze me, then, the unrecognized allegories that surround us everyday. I'm in the process of reading through The Lord of the Rings, and the company has just entered Moria. The fear that besets each of them before they enter through that gate is so... familiar. They've tried another path and were blocked by an unseen force, and so they have to pick a much more dangerous path, or give up.

As they travel through, there is an overarching sense of dread. Like holding your breathe after entering the water and not knowing when you're going to come up for air again. Each step is another towards their impending doom. Each step is a necessary one if they are to complete their mission, and thus makes the risks worthwhile.

Occasionally I pause in moments like these and wondering to myself, what sort of missions are guiding my footsteps. Is it the pursuit of money? Fame? Friends? More and more... stuff? I am so easily distracted from my original intent, so easily pulled back onto the path for the Wraiths to find me.

Lost.

I'm sure that's exactly how the rich young man felt after coming to Jesus showing a deep sign of devotion and being left wanting. Imagine what that must have been like. You step out in a crowd of people, positively shimmering with religious zeal to follow this God-man, and in an instant he unravels your entire being and leaves you naked and exposed before this crowed. Most embarrassingly, he just asked the pointed questions, the decision was in your hands the entire time.

This story stands out to me as a tree amidst the Serengeti because of how relevant it is. There is nothing disingenuous about either side here. The man truly wants to follow Jesus, and in turn Jesus tells him what it will cost. Everything. Nothing on earth, everything in heaven. "Put your trust entirely in me," Jesus says.

Miniscule. That's how big I feel when I ponder how much I'm asked to give up related to how much He did give up. Everything. Nothing in heaven, everything on earth. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

I wonder if I'd be willing to pass through the darkness of Moria. My desire is that I'd be willing to go to the ends of the earth, but when the rubber hits the road, would I? If He asked me to give up everything to follow Him, would I?

Priorities shining like a noonday sun.

Help me to put all of them on You. Help me to put all my treasures in heaven, nothing on earth.

Stories

2009-03-23T19:09:00.002-06:00

I can't speak for everyone... but my theology is a narrative one. The story of creation, of a fall, of a people chosen to rise out of the ashes of that fallen world like a phoenix. From that Phoenix a glimmer of hope, looking forward to the future King and Messiah. The ultimate striking down of that messiah and a party as the forces of evil thought they had struck their final blow. Imagine their surprise when Aslan appeared at their gates not as a conquered slave, but as a victorious king, shining all the brighter to claim the key to death. Imagine their surprise as he bid them goodbye to return, risen on the third day. And imagine their malice as he ascended to his rightful place beside his Father, only strengthened by their s0-called victory.

It's a story upon which so many other are fashioned. Be it Frodo, Rand, Aslan and the Pevensie children, Neo or any other numerous protagonists. The story of redemption runs through our blood. It's engrained upon our hearts, as we long to emulate what our souls cry out for. As they weep within us to be set free to chase after their ultimate goal, we suppress them; calling them foolish.

These stories intertwine. Goodness knows I've skittered across a plethora of stories within the past two years, all across the globe. Those stories continue long after I my chapter has ended, and I can only hope that the words left on those pages are ones that will influence the ongoing crescendo of their lives. I've met people in pain. People in joy. People eraptured by love. Those desperate to meet their saviour, and those scorn his very existance.

Whatever fibres they choose to weave with, it fascinates me that we are constantly telling a story. Be it a short story, or a long epic, we tell our journies with words, with actions. My story will soon take me in a new direction, to a new place. One tension in my story begins to resolve as my life and my heart align. A new beginning as I start to pastor a new group. It's a scary story, and the outcome is uncertain. But I approach that tension with the knowledge that I'll spend plenty of time on my knees and let the Author do the writing for me. It is time for me to be a character in my own story.

What sort of story are you telling?

Have Faith

2009-01-03T18:25:00.003-07:00

As I reread through the gospels... it continues to amaze me how much weight Jesus puts in individual's faith through his day to day actions. In nearly (if not all) every miracle, the individual's faith is the hinge upon whether Jesus performs the miracle or not. Whether they be Jew or gentile, their faith was paramount to the outcome. Take this as an example:

The Faith of a Syrophoenician Woman
24Jesus left that place and went to the vicinity of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know it; yet he could not keep his presence secret. 25In fact, as soon as she heard about him, a woman whose little daughter was possessed by an evil spirit came and fell at his feet. 26The woman was a Greek, born in Syrian Phoenicia. She begged Jesus to drive the demon out of her daughter.
27"First let the children eat all they want," he told her, "for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to their dogs."
28"Yes, Lord," she replied, "but even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."
29Then he told her, "For such a reply, you may go; the demon has left your daughter."
30She went home and found her child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

Even though in many ways it appears that Jesus is putting her away, she has heard of this Jewish Rabbi who could heal the lame, blind, diseased and possessed. It is entirely likely that this was her last hope, having tried everything else, and that faith, knowing of the relationship between Jews and their neighbours that causes Jesus to heal her daughter.

The implications are staggering, when put in context. Numerous times Jesus turns people away because the measure of their faith comes up short. Other times he challenges them, only for their faith to stand. In one case, the man asking even begs Jesus to provide him with the faith to believe.

I often wonder if I have that desperation in my life. Do I really need it? Is it really my air? My water? Or am I coming back out of habit? It's a danger I have to be aware of constantly, and one that reminds me of what a great God I serve! I merely need to have faith.

Light

2008-12-28T00:51:00.001-07:00

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

There is something I must confess. I have not always been a believer in this passage. I have wrestled with it in some very deep ways. How can someone who promises so much strife and turmoil also promise to give me rest? How can I trust such clear dissonance coming from the same mouth. It is like two separate pieces of music, in different keys, being played simultaneously. Oh, my foolish thoughts.

I have another confession to make. These very thoughts arise out of my own wrecklessness, my own selfish pride. In my spiritual superiority, I forgot the most important thing: I am weak. I have attempted to carry on a relationship without communication. I have fought bitterly for rights that are not my own. I have lost my first love, and with it the security that it brings. It is time I reclaim it.

Jesus is saying here that if I would only trust him, I would lose sight of all the other things. I may be worried about money, but in reality I make more than 90% of the world! I may be concerned about where I live, but I have a roof over my head, a warm bed, and food. So what do I have to worry about? My Father in heaven is watching over me.

That relationship I have been neglecting is coming back. It takes time. It takes intentionality. It takes work. Of all the things I dedicate my time to, I can't think of a better one to pour myself over, to dig in deep and beg for more. I want to be in head first, with no way out. I want to be bound so I could not escape. I want to be starstruck so the world fades away. I want to trust.

I have been weary. In my own selfish pride, I have thought I was above being weak, all while thinking I was acting weak. I am a helpless babe, and I need the rest to grow. Thanks be to God that I have that place, time, and love to do just that.

Up Against the Wall

2008-10-31T20:21:00.002-06:00

The grey clouds cascade quickly over your head, unleashing a flurry of rain pestering you from every angle; the towering slick rock-face behind you offering little shelter from the onslaught. Hands patting each inch of the wall, hoping to find some relief, some haven to offer sanctuary. Your eyes darting in every direction, searching for your assailants.

It was moments... or maybe it was years ago that they peppered your fragile body with attacks. Your beaten, battered, bruised. One more attack, and your knees will buckle, succumbing to the overwhelming weight, leaving you to drown in the deluge.

There they are. Stepping as ghouls into your vision, their outlines framed by the drizzle by the dull light. Their frames lurch threatening as they edge closer to you, each moment spelling your doom. The situation is entirely hopeless. Their very presence is suffocating.

Following Christ is unlike any other. A juxtaposition on it's very basic level. To know oneself, you must deny yourself. His load is light, but it will cost you dearly. Your a visitor in the only land you've ever known. You're called to deny your family, but take care of the orphans and widows. You work at your faith, but you're saved by grace.

You are constantly under siege. A battle rages on around you with every passing moment of cosmic proportions. Forces battle for your soul, your loyalty, your mind. Your choices can have far-reaching consequences either way.

You are constantly under protection. A moment never passes where you are alone. No matter the trials or tribulations that you face, you can always find peace in knowing that you will soon be home. Anything in life only has meaning if you let it. What you decide has meaning has far reaching-consequences.

I was once told that I can do whatever I set my mind to. No matter the scope, difficulty or absurdity of my dreams, it can be accomplished with God's help. Somewhere along the way I let that light go out. I got lost in fighting my own fights, and running from my foes. It is far past time that I relight the torch. That I through conventions to the wind, and remember what it's like to have my back up against the wall. Fight and live for what is true, and right.

Perhaps the biggest juxtaposition is that to be strong, we must first be weak. To fight, we must surrender. To claim victory, we must do it in defeat. When the demons close in, and there is no escape, we merely have to remember that it is not our fight to win. In those moment we discover that slick precipice at our back is our fortress. Within that fortress is our most powerful advocate, who holds dominion over everything. That battle has been won.

So what's your back up against?

Uncertain

2008-10-19T23:12:00.002-06:00

Hebrews 6:13-15

When God made his promise to Abraham, since there was
no one greater for him to swear by, he swore by himself,
saying, "I will surely bless you and give you many
descendants." And so after waiting patiently, Abraham
received what was promised.

It's a sure thing. There's not a doubt in your mind. You've thought out every possible angle, and then... it slips through. Like dry sand through your fingers, it sifts through and you're left with nothing but a dry residue to remind you anything ever happened. It's frustrating, infuriating.

I feel I've spent the past 2 years of my life in a constant state of flux. The undulating rhythm of my life pushing me up, dragging me down. Sprawling vista's; deep chasms. The sun beaming down on my face, warming my cold skin; the damp walls leeching every warmth from my heart. Frustrating.

Perhaps you've felt like this? Each step a labour. Every breath a chore. But you keep moving forward, each day.

With my hope faltering, and my outlook becoming ever shallow, I realize that it's moments like these that test one's resolve. A hurricane is not weathered when you're boarding the place up. Each board placed makes a difference, each sandbag laid prepares for the ensuing floods. But regardless of the preparations you makes, it's when the winds test your work. When the water seeps through, and trees are uprooted that you find what lays deep in your heart. Some cower, some freeze in fear, or form an icy resolve, and others rise to the challenge, digging into energy deep within them to press through the worst of the storm and pick up the pieces.

I've had a bit of all of them inside of me. I've cowered, frozen, fallen within myself, and I hope that I can yet rise to this challenge. But like any other moment, I'm not enough. I'm always back to square one, my energy spent, my heart broken, and my vision dulled. I'm so short sighted. I long to be home, to be away from these struggles, this constant warfare that I am so terrible at. I want to be free, free to fly, free to discover what it means to live this life.

Weight... dragging me down. Threatening to pull me under. And with every passing day I am drawn to my own iniquities. My own failings. No matter how 'good' I may be, I'll never be good enough.

I'll never be good enough.

There's a lesson I need to learn. It's not about me. It was never about me. But I long so much for it to be about me. Each day, attempting to pull my skin off like Eustace. Tearing at my scales, longing for the boy I used to be. But it's not I that should pull those scales off. I need God. I need those promises, those moments when He rips me deeper than I ever thought possible, when my heart, mind and body cry out for relief. I hate even saying it, but I need it. Make me bleed, take my life, as long as I can be free. Whatever the cost, wherever the journey, I want to be free.

But I'm so ... uncertain.

Screw-Up

2008-09-11T22:20:00.002-06:00

There is nothing quite like a good kick in the pants to get your butt in gear. When everything is going smoothly, or so I think, a big kick to the kiester, pushing you to the curb really puts things into perspective. Makes you wonder if it's ever even possible to walk the 'straight and narrow' and not meander off into the local shops, just for a peek.

What the heck? What on earth are you talking about?

As some of you know, I've been on a journey of self-discovery over the past 8 months. Discovering who I am. Discovering who the world is. Discovering who you are. Discovering. Some thing I've uncovered have been exactly as I suspected. Others, however, have been a surprise to my calculating side. Not because they failed to live up to my predefinition, but in how I failed to live up to my own standards.

If there is any one thing I could say coming out of the past two years, it's that I'm a certified failure. I will never be good enough, smart enough, or wise enough to carry my own weight. No amount of planning will account for the variables. Something will always go wrong, and that something will usually be me.

An errant word... a flippant action... words unspoken. These things haunt me.

The hover over me, calling out my faults, casting the spotlight upon my imperfections, daring me to prove them wrong.

Cringe as I might, contorted into various precarious positions, I can't hide in the shadows. I'm a big screw-up.

Heavy. Like an anchor around your neck, dragging you down. Rancor builds up in your accusers as they tug at your ankles. You tread water faster, harder; but it's not enough. You can't keep your mouth above the surface, and your lungs begin to fill. Hope abandons ship, praying that they take you, not it before the shore is in reach.

A lifeline. A hand around your wrist. You forgot something... the spotlight was never meant to be on you. You weren't designed to stand up to scrutiny. You are imperfect, that was the whole point all along.

I screw up. I screw up a lot. I say strange, awkward, horrific things. Sometimes, they hurt other people, and not just myself. They often bare a striking resemblance to everything I wish I wasn't. If I was a construction site, I'd be a giant hole, and they'd be building it upside down, putting the roof in the ground. It's just backwards.

But thankfully I'm not in it alone. I'm hopefully dependant on something greater than myself. If I want to be like Jesus, then I need Jesus. I need Him in every aspect. I need to get up in the morning asking Him to be my guide. I need to eat my breakfast keeping in mind that He provided it. I need to drive to work, conscious that the person who cut me off is in a rush to get to work, because if they don't, they will likely be fired. I need to be aware that the pushy person in the office is probably fighting with their spouse at home.

Every person I meet is just as much a wreck as I am. The difference is that I have Christ. The question is, does that show? Am I joyful? Am I patient? Am I kind? Am I willing to give grace?

I'm a total screw-up. And I'm totally thankful for that.

The Roar Behind

2008-07-31T22:40:00.002-06:00

It's no secret I quite enjoy the writing of CS Lewis. I enjoy their rhythm, I'm awed by their depth, and I'm intrigued by their implications. As I reread through the Narnia series I am continually in a state of admiration for how he takes some very complex theological ideas and distills them into finger-food anyone can comprehend.

I often laugh with my friends about how I pray for things and I'm begrudged when God happily answers my cry. Usually this is because I foolishly, but not really at all, ask Him to tear me apart and rebuild me in His image. To strip me of my pride, to teach me a lesson I know I need to learn, or to put me over the coals and hammer me into a tempered sword for His use. Foolish prayers, because I know that without a doubt these are prayers that will be answered.

Deep down they truly reflect my hearts wish. I want to be useful, I want to be pure; I only struggle with the process from which he culls those impurities. They are hard, they hurt, and they leave scars marring every inch of my body, mind and soul. In hindsight, however, I can't think of a single one that I would trade in, because each of them have been entirely worth it.

Shasta, Bree, Hwin and Aravis are moving through the desert North towards Archenland and eventually Narnia. They have been travelling for days, and are hot, tired, and thirsty. But they know they have to press on nonetheless, in order to beat out an attacking group and warn the Archenlanders. And in that final stretch, when the danger is most immanent, a lion chases them down.

I'm sure you can imagine what comes next. More importantly, I be you can empathize with that feeling, I know I can. You are tired ans sore from the journey. You feel as though you have nothing left inside, and God asks you for just a little more. In this case, it's the threat of danger and death that is used as a motivation. But the Jesus we have constructed in our heads holds children, hugs lambs and always smiles. Imagine the fear it would inspire in you if he growled at you and threatened your life.

God is not tame. He doesn't fit nicely into our pretty boxes, our leather Bibles, or our consecrated churches. He is not a tame line. His leaping for Aravis at ripping her back open, drawing blood is entirely in His character. But His intention is never to kill, merely to inspire and teach. Had He wanted to kill, the mere thought of it would turn it into reality.

I have claw marks. They sting from time to time, but I have learned to welcome them as a comforting reminder that the Lion watches over me, and deems my journey important enough to spur me forward in the times of my greatest danger. I'm fearful to think what would have been had I not received that nudge.

Closer

2008-07-12T23:11:00.002-06:00

"But when he had said "Yes," he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

"But please, please -- won't you -- can't ou give me something that will cure Mother?" Up till then he had been looking at the Lion's great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonders of wonders) great shining tears stood in the lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared to Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.

"My son, my son," said Aslan. "I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another. But I have to think of hundreds of years in the life of Narnia."

-From The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis

How our perceptions change. What once was so bright and clear becomes foggy. The monster that once plagued our closets is now our best friend. The lion that threatened to devour us in it's majestic power is now the only source of empathy we find in this lonely place.

I just finishes reading through this book (thanks Felicia) again, and I come at it with new eyes. Eyes that are less innocent than the last read through, and a heart that bares more weight than it once did. Where I was a child, I am now a boy. Where I once saw plot, I now see life. It speaks no longer to my fictional mindset, and my imagination, but directly to my life experiences. This is no longer just a story about beginnings, it's a story about me.

The questions of 'what if?' Temptations. Lust for power. The wrecklessness of hope, lashing out in it's ignorance. Very deep topics for a children's book. Yet as I reflect upon my few short years, I identify all to well with these things. 'Was it my fault? Where were You? How come it couldn't be me? Why won't you help?' I struggled, I wrestled, and I fought these questions to the bitter end. And now... as I read about the tears of the Lion, I understand.

Where I once saw God as an aloof observer, who I could bend to my will, I now I see a gentle (yet ever so powerful) ruler, who empathizes with me. In my innocense, and my ignorance, I thought that no one could understand. But who better to understand than the one who created me? Am I so selfish as to think that He has never lost anything? That He would not understand my pain? No... that would be foolish of me, for every ache that I feel in my heart, He feels tenfold. For every loss that stings humanity, a stake is drive through. In our pain, we are drawn closer to our creator, because we understand the empathy that is involved.

Some are driven further, seduced by the promises of power through anger. They seek to harness their pain to whip their souls and hearts into greater heights. But in their bloodlust, they lose something so precious that the consequences are not small. They lose empathy.

"Yes, Aslan. She wanted me to take an apple home to Mother."

"Understand, then, that it would have healed her; but not to your joy or hers. The day would have come when both you and she would have looked back and said it would have been better to die in that illness."

And Digory could say nothing, for tears choked him and he gave up all hopes of saving his Mother's life; but at the same time he knew that the Lion knew what would have happened, and that there might be things more terrible even than losing someone you love by death. But now Aslan was speaking again, almost in a whisper:

"That is what would have happened, child, with a stolen apple. It is not what will happen now. What I give you now will bring joy."

We are not always given a choice as to our path. But in our humility, we are brought to the absolute knowledge that our path is what is best. And I am brought closer yet again.

Fragile

2008-07-07T21:20:00.002-06:00

What a precarious position we find ourselves in. A slick precipice on either side, the thick rain pouring in waves upon you, with only the flashes of the distant lightning to guide your feet. It seemed like only yesterday that I was skipping freely among the daisies and gliding my hands over the tall grass with a smile in my heart, and a laugh in my throat.

I am jealous of my memories. I covet their innocence and their free spirit. Not a care in the world, not even of where I would sleep that night. Surely the birds that listlessly careened around me would lead me to a sanctuary where I could lay my head.

Now my head lays in my calloused hands. Tears streak down my grimy face. A shudder crawls it's way maliciously up my body as the cold seeps in. My legs mock me in their cramped state, as if they know what the future will hold.

There was a time when I would call that carefree person foolish. How could you act so free with the midnight clouds billowing over the horizon, snaking their way towards you. Surely you could not be dumb enough to not anticipate the battles that lie in wait for you, the traps that nip at your ankles wanting to drag you into their subterranean lair. This is a fight for your life, and hardly a time to enjoy the gentle breeze before it grows into a gale.

Then it pierced me like an arrow. Who is the fool? The one who spends the day occupied with where his food is going to be found or whether he will be safe when he lays his head down? Or the one who lets those things worry about themselves and keeps his eyes up. How often do you find those with their heads in the clouds suffocating beneath your feet?

I am the fool. The deep chasms on either side are nothing but landscapes created out of the schisms in my own mind. I'm in the meadow. The scent of the flowers seems so distant in my nostrils, yet their proximity seems to comfort me. The rain soaks me to the bone, but I hear the sonnet of the birds dancing about me and the warmth begins to kindle inside, roaring to life. My legs are atrophied not from the journey, but from sitting. I have forgotten how to use them. The days when I would dance and leap to be one step closer faded away when I allowed my foot to be still, and my ankle entangled.

A glimpse. A ray of light through my clouds. Irradiating me with the truth that has been so absent. "Your sins are forgiven. Get up, take your mat and go home."

I am in the meadow once more.

It is a fragile state of mind we exist in. Draw not your strength from your own wells, for they run dry. Drink of the Living Water, and you will never thirst again. Put your heads firmly in the clouds and pray that it is never yanked to earth.

In my innocence, I wish to be enlightened. In my 'enlightenment' I wish to be innocent. What a foolish man I am.

The Journey

2008-06-30T21:43:00.002-06:00

http://www.noob.us/entertainment/matt-harding-dances-around-the-world-2008-version/

It's a very small world. Just 75 years ago, crossing an ocean took two weeks. Travelling the country took equally as long, due to the necessity for trains. Wanted to get somewhere off the beaten track? There was still a chance you would be going horseback.

We've come a long way in the past 75 years, learning to travel at breakneck speeds. You can talk to someone on the other side of the world instantly, and share some form of a relationship with them without ever knowing their real name.

It's a world of instant gratification, where you want something, and you want it now. Taking a few hours out of your day to travel somewhere seems like a waste. Phoning someone can seem cumbersome when you can post on their wall, or send them an IM.

Somewhere in there, I lost the sense of a journey. Where I was forced to sit back, smell the flowers, read good books, and get outside. I got caught up in making money, in paying the bills, and in the petty politics of everyday life. Concerned more about those around me than myself, my feet began to stumble over the uneven ground, and my eyes fell to my cumbersome steps.

Life your eyes young man. Lift them to the mountains, to the heavens, and gaze upon your salvation. The light emanating from your destination should mesmerize you. Don't let the flashing lights along the way pull your attention from the finish line. You don't need to worry about lifting your feet, for it was not you who had the power to step out of the mire to begin this journey. You were waist deep and unable to move, but someone lent you a hand out. And you took your first step. Your path will be steady if you keep your eyes on the end.

I forgot the stumbling. The scraped knees, the open wounds, and the fierce battles for my life. I was lulled into a sense of security, and let my armour grow rusty. Brandish it once more, for the hunter lurks in the shadows, stalking you. Unsheathe your sword, awaken your sore muscles to do battle once more. You need not fret the scrapes you will endure, for you know a Doctor who pays keen attention.

This is a battle for your life. And you are not alone. There are thousands, millions of us on that same path with you. We have fallen wayward, and become distracted from our home. We have settled for far less than we will know. Show us the path. Live a life worth following, not just in your words, but in your actions. Take the precarious precipice, daring to scale the slick cliff face that threatens to throw you to the rocky ocean below. Take it because it is the path we all wish to take, but are too afraid to scale.

I have been distracted, but distracted no more. I will dance the dance, fight the fight, and run this race. I will set my sights not on my feet, but on that city. I will fall, I will fail, I will hurt, I will learn. And each time that I want to stop, that I beg for relief, I will find times of refreshing knowing that this is not my home. This rocky road, this comforting bed, this seductive shortcut is not my home.

My home lies ahead, and I long for it.

Soft

2008-03-19T16:26:00.002-06:00

I wonder what it would have been like to be Jesus. Each and everyday, walking around Israel, meeting people that desperately need your help. Teaching them all, touching some, healing less. How much of their pain would have he felt directly? Would it have been frustrating to see all these people and know that you just don't have time to talk to everyone, to help everyone.

What would have his relationship with God have been like? Was it personal? Did it come and go? Did he memorize scripture as a boy? Was it all in his head? From the early tales we have of Jesus in the court in Jerusalem, it's pretty clear he has wise far beyond his years in interpreting the scriptures, but did he ever become apathetic?

While a lot of the answers to these questions are clear in mixing his humanity and divinity, and even more of them become unclear in that mix, it's important to remember that Jesus experienced many of the same feelings we have, if not all of them.

In the past few weeks, I have been learning that I need to be soft again. Soft in all the right places, and let the calluses that have grown fade. I'd be lying if I said Fiji didn't do a number on me; didn't threaten my spirituality. It was a trying experience, a time in the desert, and while I knew that God walked me through each and every moment, including the months afterwards, it left me tired.

I'm still tired. But the time has come for me to wake up and no longer use that as an excuse or a crutch, but instead to use it as my catalyst. Time to dig in deep, to remember my roots, and revive the parts that have dried and withered. Remember that if I am going to be soft to one thing, receptive to one voice, it's God's. That means more time in the Word, more time on my knees (literally), and more time meditating after both of those things.

This is my commitment.

There is No God (And You Know It)

2008-03-13T15:00:00.001-06:00

Before you start, read this article:

http://www.machineslikeus.com/articles/ThereIsNoGod.html

An interesting read, no doubt. Sadly, however, it is filled with equal bias as those I read from fundamentalist Christians, without the slightest concern for equal consideration that a topic like this demands.

His ending paragraph, about how we establish the goodness of God by our own moral standards is a great example of his misunderstanding of Theology. God is aloof to our morality, because our morality is drawn from Him. See Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis to have this argument flushed out in detail.

Furthermore, his basic assumption that anyone who believes in God must be entirely ignorant to scientific advancements, or that God is diametrically opposed to common sense is haughty at best, and ignorance at it's worst.

I long for a real discussion by people who are not entrenched in their ideas lobbing mortars at the other side from behind their tall walls. Instead, talking to the other side with hands, and minds open. Maybe then we could actually learn something. I'm open to this chat if you are.

The Survey Says...

2008-02-25T22:02:00.004-07:00

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/23337807/

Read through that article, because it is very telling. While I live in a different country (Yes, Canada is not a state) we are intimately tied to our Southern Cousins.

The general tone of the article is this: religion is not cutting it. There are few converts (across all faith's), and those that are 'wins' are merely cross-pollinated from another denomination. Catholics suffering the worst from this symptom.

Penn State University sociologist Roger Finke, who consulted in the survey planning. "Right now, there is a dropping confidence in organized religion, especially in the traditional religious forms."

Let's unpack that a little bit. Notice how the problem here is not with faith in general, although one could argue that the assault on faith is beginning to take it's toll, but rather the problem is with organized religion.

If you've talked to me at any point in time during the past 8 years, you know I'm no fan of 'organized religion.' I don't think that Jesus mandated it, and I don't think it has any place in Christianity. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not saying the Church should be dissolved, and any source of authority removed. Rather, I'm stating that the four walls of church's should be demolished, and the big front doors torn down.

Instead, we should meet in the streets of our communities, meeting with the people who live there, learning their needs, and then meeting them. We have become an increasing irrelevant faith. We talk about how much good we do, but then what do we actually do?

The majority of the unaffiliated — 12 percent of the overall population — describe their religion as "nothing in particular," and about half of those say faith is at least somewhat important to them. Atheists or agnostics account for 4 percent of the total population.

Notice that. 12 percent say they have no religion, that means a staggering 88% classify themselves as having and actively believing in some faith. Another 6% are saying that faith is at least somewhat important to them. Where are those 6% falling? Who is meeting their needs?

Many Americans have vague denominational ties at best. People who call themselves "just a Protestant," in fact, account for nearly 10 percent of all Protestants.

This is also a very significant trend, and something I have stated time and time again -- denominations are not cool. Yes, we need to identify with something, and we need to have clearly defined beliefs. But why on earth (pun intended) are we dividing ourselves over such trivial things? Would Jesus, Paul, Peter or the countless others really be satisfied with these divisions, or would they condemn us for being legalistic and, dare I say it, pharasitical?

Although evangelical churches strive to win new Christian believers from the "unchurched," the survey found most converts to evangelical churches were raised Protestant.

Note that statement right there. You know what that screams at me? We aren't doing our job. People keep searching for the depth they long for, and they aren't finding it. They go from one nuance to another in hopes that it will revitalize their dying selves, and in reality they are looking in all the wrong places.

We must live our our faith. Not in the talk about it, preaching kind of way. But in the practical saving lives, handing out food, talking with our neighbours kind of ways. These are the things that make the difference. Digging under the skin, asking the hard questions, pushing through the difficulties of a relationship and showing people that they are worth it.

Pushing the Boundaries

2008-02-22T16:24:00.002-07:00

Here's a thought. How much time do we actually sit down to think?

Did you just graze over that? Or did you stop to really think how much time you spend just meditating on the day or particular topics. It's alarming how much of our days we fill with white noise, background something or other that will ensure we don't have to think or be concerned with what is really going on.

Take that and apply it to the upcoming generation. The ones who grew up with computers, the internet and every way imaginable to communicate with someone who isn't right in their face. You bored? The internet has your fix. Games, reading, movies, music, anything you could ever want right at your fingertips. But it comes at a cost.

You shut down. You stop really thinking, stop evaluating what is going on in and around you. The question is it worth it? And you stop asking, could it be better?

How many times have you heard that youth have a naeve vigor? That they will dream, without any thought for possible consequences? And how often have you heard it said that people lose that as they get older? I have a single question to ask, why?

Why are we satisfied with letting the hard questions slide, and the big dreams go unrealized? Why do we allow life to weigh us down? When can we push the boundaries a little further than they were before, and dare to dream that our lives could be more than they are today?

Church is a prime example of this, and it is a symptom that I am fighting as I grow older. Never stop dreaming, never stop hoping. I was thinking today, and it occurred to me that Jesus only lived until he was 32. He began his ministry when he was thirty. In the Jewish culture, he was but a young pup, barely ready for the primetime. And you had to know that you would not have wanted to be his rabbi. How could you contain the knowledge and dreams that must have come pouring out of him? More importantly, should you?

Jesus called all the little children unto him, and said that the kingdom of God belongs to ones such as these. We have often taken that to mean their innocense, but I would like to propose a different thought to add to the traditional one. Jesus also meant that they would inheret the kingdom of God because they were entirely uninhibited. They saw Jesus, they wanted to run to Jesus, so they did. Nothing stopped them to say it might not be appropriate, or that he might be busy. A + B = C without any modifiers. Simple.

Dare to dream, because our heavily Father dreamed when He created us, and he has big dreams for each and every one of us. He wants us to imagine all that we could be, and then pursue it without abandon. To imagine the world as He sees it, and then do everything in our power to make it so. And that change, those boundaries that need to be pushed, start with us. With me.

At The Centre of it All

2008-01-13T23:42:00.000-07:00

The interesting thing I've always found about human beings is our ability to so aptly lie to ourselves and others around us. We lie about how wealthy we are, about our relationships, about how we're feeling, about whether we like something or not, we lie about who we are. Let's get right down to the nitty gritty... we hate to face who we really are.

I've spent my fair share of time living with other young men in the past few years. Even some older men, and if there is one thing I've learned about men, it's that they love to ignore the messes that they live in. As long as it is not directly effecting them in some detrimental way, then it is not affecting them at all. It mine as well not exist to them. It's functional.

And from my conversations and the observations I've made about the majority of women it is this, that as long as everything is neat, tidy and appears clean, then they are also happy. Their house can be a wreck five minutes before guests walk through the door, but as long as everything is neat and tidy when the doorbell rings they are happy. It's all about appearances, and everything has it's place.

If there is one thing that I have a hard time accepting about my faith it's this: grace. There is nothing I can do (or not do) to earn grace. It is offered freely to me, without conditions or standards. I did not pass a grade so I could be accepted into grace. Rather, it is because of my inadequacies that I am in need of grace. By very nature, I want to earn something, I want to be proud of my accomplishment when it is given to me. Grace, on the other hand is a badge of unaccomplishment. I accept it simply because it is offered to me, and I need it fully.

There is something humbling about that realization. Where I have to stop and ponder, in the midst of a busy world the implications of something offered freely. We work for everything that we earn. But this is not something I worked for, or that I earned. Yet it is more important than any of those carnal things. Where they will fade away to dust, this gift is eternal. And all I have to do is accept it.

To be honest, I'm dumbfounded. I'm confused, disillusioned, frustrated and dazed. I want to do SOMETHING, say SOMETHING that would give me credit for such an awesome gift, but I am left short of the mark. In it's very nature, I am inadequate. And in that moment of disillusionment, I get a glimpse of God. I am not focusing on myself, but on Him. And in that moment, He smiles at me, and simply says, "I know."

No lies. No facade. Just truth.

At the centre of it all, I'm not good enough, and that doesn't mean a thing.

Steady The Course

2008-01-12T01:14:00.000-07:00

A dank smell lingered in the musty air. It must have been centuries since the last human thing moved through these halls. The walls on either side were slick with a thin sheen of water, and were spotted with moss like a leopard. Rays of sunshine pried their way in through the broken ceiling, and fjorded through the thick dust. The floor was cobbled with weathered stones that had once provided an adequate walkway, but now only intermittently broke through the mud.

Each step was a chore, lifting a foot out of the gripping mud, while the other was sucked in deeper. Breathing was like standing in a wheat field in the thick of harvest. The armour that he carried weighed heavily upon him, and many had called it old fashioned and outdated. It was less than fashionable, but it was the only real way to protect himself. And even here, when it seemed entirely impractical, it was a necessity.

It only took one small crevass in the wall holding a single trap to end the entire journey. Already he had survived three attempts on his life. One was a metal trap falling from a hidden compartment in the roof after he carelessly stepped on a loose stone. Had it not been for the rust, his sword would have never broken through. He was saved from the second trap by his sturdy breastplate, as sharp spears lunged for his heart as he opened a door. While not penetrating the steel, it pushed him back nearly fifteen feet, and left more than a few bruises on his body. The last was a form of quicksand that lay in waiting for an unsuspecting adventurer, and when it clutched at his ankles, arrows shot from the wall. His shield deflected them at the last moment, and his boots allowed him to slowly climb out of the sand. Unfashionable as the armour may be, no one could deny it's practical uses.

As he tread softly down the muddy path, he began to wonder if this was the right way. He'd seen that tree before, was he travelling in circles? The mud began to seep into his boots, and branches at the trees began to scrape at his face, clawing viciously at him. Thorns and vines clutched at his ankles at legs, seeking to slow or stop him. The light that had once guided him was now failing as night began to dawn and the few rays of light began to lose their luster.

It was going to be a long night.

--

I don't know if you've ever felt that way. I know I have. I know that I do. Over the past few weeks, I have been reciting to myself the many promises that God makes to me. That He will watch over me and protect me. That I will not go hungry or be unable to live, because He cares for me. That He knew me in the womb, and has a plan for my life, not to harm me, but help. Yet I struggle to find peace.

I seek to equip myself with the armour, and yet I find it constantly wanting to fall off. I find forces all around me clawing at me, scraping, scratching and meticulously combing me over for any sign of weakness. And I am weak.

God, I need peace. I need hope. I need to feel your presence. I need to know that there is stability in the storm, and I need to know that you are still in control of the waves and the rain. Because I know that I cannot swim through this one, I will surely drown. I need your help.

So please, meet me here. It's been over a year since I've had any stability in my life, and I'll wait the rest of my life if I have to, as long as I know that you are in control. Meet me here, in this dark, damp hallway. Give me rest, give me sustainence. But above all, give me You.

Scum

2007-12-27T00:13:00.001-07:00

Have you ever cleaned a dirty bathtub? I'm not talking about the once a week clean... I'm talking about the once every three months clean. Your once shiny bathtub has accumulated a layer of filth. Soap scum builds up, a scaly monster upon the landscape. Pieces of unidentified dirt have caked themselves onto the surface.

You boldly approach that challenge, with a hopeful heart. But as you begin to scrub, it seems to crawl deep within your skin, burrowing. You feel dirty as you peel layer after layer of dirt off of the tub. High powered chemicals aid you, but even after an hour of hard scrubbing that tub still has caked on dirt. Very few things will actually lift that dirt from the surface, and it seems like it will never, ever come off.

I feel that way often. No matter how much time I spend on my knees, scrubbing my soul and heart out, I just can't get clean. There is always that layer of crud clasping onto me, fusing itself to my very being. I feel weary, worn, and incapable.

The reality of the situation is that I am incapable. I can spend all day scrubbing, but I'm scrubbing with the wrong stuff. I will never be able to remove that crud. I don't have the 'elbow grease' to get it off. I am the one that put it there in the first place. But the news is not all bad, I'm right in at least one thing: I'm on my knees.

Despite all the scum that has caked itself onto me over the years, God doesn't see any of it. His grace, however undeserving I am, covers it all. It renews me, refreshes me, and adds that fresh smell all over again. To Him, each time I repent of my sins, I am brand new.

Amazing what cleaning a bathroom will teach you.

To all those...

2007-12-09T23:09:00.000-07:00

Isaiah 9

To all those who find themselves outside on a cold night, unsure of which was is home. Scared, wet and all alone. Rejoice. A warm fire is near.

To all who are weary, tired from the journey, afraid of the fight, wounded from the enemy. Rejoice. Rest and safety is at hand.

To all those who are distraught, unclear of how to proceed, and disillusioned with where the path has brought them. Rejoice. The path has been set, and your footing is sure.

To all the broken hearts, which were once filled with hopes and dreams, now lost to the waves of time. Rejoice. Hope has come again.

To all the young, with the world ahead of you, and very little behind you. Rejoice. For you are blessed in not knowing better.

To the adult, who feels the world passing them by, and can't help but wish for more. Rejoice. For you will have everything you need.

To all the old, with the weight of time upon your shoulders, and the bright eyed days of your youth long since faded. Rejoice. The weight is lifted.

To all the downtrodden, whose legs will not carry them any further, and who suffer from cuts innumerable. Rejoice. For you will find a warm bath, and healing for your wounds.

To the sinner, whose actions reveal true character and whose judgement lies over the close horizon. Rejoice. For you are free.

To the Church, whose potential knows no limit, and whose character seems endlessly tainted by our flesh. Rejoice. For we are cleansed.

To the saint, who strives to leave this world behind, and go home. Rejoice. Home is at hand.

To the entire world, which finds itself in the mire of it's crumbling humanity. Rejoice. For you will be rebuilt.

Rejoice in a Saviour who has redeemed us from exile, and brought us back into home. That we may find rest, healing, and purpose. And upon him a kingdom has risen that cannot be conquered.

Dependance

2007-12-07T13:10:00.000-07:00

How often do I want all the benefits without any of the pain? I want everything that my relationship with God should bring, without any of the shaping that comes from a loving Father. I want to be wise, mature, balanced and Godly, but I don't want to have to work for any of it. Wouldn't life be easier if I could just choose what characteristics I want? How foolish would I be.

I am not a wise man. I wouldn't even call myself a Godly man. I desire deeply to be both of those things, but I struggle. I struggle with myself; a constant state of turmoil between my desires and reality. I want to be free from all of this, I want to be wholly dependant on God.

So what does the foolish (or wise?) man do? He prays for God to do just that. Make him fully dependant on God. God is always faithful to answer. Whether you want it or not, the words have been spoken, and the intent expressed.

Each day, I am made to be more dependant on God. Less dependant on myself. And I'm completely resolved to that fate. Each day brings less money, and a little more stress. Each day finds me turning over more, and depending less on my own strength. I have little choice, because I'm running out of options.

Yet I know I'm right where I'm supposed to be. Every part of me wants to leave, to fall back on something easier, something familiar. But there is a still small voice telling me to wait. "Not yet," it says. So I wait, I search, and I turn over every prayer and petition, with faith, to my Father in heaven.

This is a staging point. Every major Biblical (and faith) character had to first learn to depend. Not on their own strength or wit, but only on the Provider. Noah had to build an Ark. Abraham had to leave his home. Moses had to go back to Egypt. The Israelites had to wander the desert. David had to run from Saul's men. The prophets were outcasts. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert. Paul was blind. There are lessons to be learned, and God asks for one thing: all of us.

So You have it. Take it, because I can't do it. I never could. I am dependant on You.

Breathe

2007-11-14T23:27:00.000-07:00

This is the air I breathe
This is the air I breathe
Your holy presence living in me

This is my daily bread
This is my daily bread
Your very word spoken to me

And I, I'm desperate for you
And I, I'm I'm lost without you

The very air I breathe. The food that I eat. These are things that describe God, but do they describe God in you? Do they describe God in me? I wonder that sometimes. Is God really the air that I breathe? Do I really feel I need him that much? I say feel not because of an emotion, but because the reality is that I do. Anything else is foolishness.

Swimming, deep underwater. You've taken a giant gulp of breathe and begun to dive down, as deep as you possibly go. It doesn't take long for your ears to start ringing, and your lungs to start hurting. But there is a strange peace under the water, as all the noise from the world is muffled, and it's you and the water. Peace to think, peace to listen. But you can't stay forever. Your body starts to hunger for pure oxygen, and your blood begins to run thin. You kick to propel yourself up, but it's so far away. Panic starts to set in as your mind dims, and your limbs slow. Desperation sweeps over you as the possiblity of not reaching the surface becomes very real. You NEED air.

And in that instant, there is nothing else on your mind. Not the pain in your limbs, or the peacefulness of the water. Not the other people in the pool, or what is going on later in the day. There is one thing on your mind: "I must breathe."

Your head breaks the surface of the water, and you gasp for breathe, taking in every ounce of life that you can draw. You have never appreciated something you always had so much. It permeates your entire body, as energy returns, revitalizing you.

Do you need God that much? Have you ever had that moment where you're not sure you're going to reach the surface? Where the thought of God overwhelms all your other senses as you yearn for His life giving presence?

That's the norm. He is the air we breathe. Without Him, we are dead, in every sense of the world.

What are you waiting for? Your head is above the surface, breathe.

Remember

2007-11-11T22:39:00.000-07:00

How much we forget through our lives. It begs the question how different our lives would be if we had perfect memories. Would you remember your first steps? The times you needed to be carried to get anywhere? The first time you tasted sugar? The first time you were on a swing? The first time you got hit? The first friend you made? Your first day of school? The day you first met Jesus?

We forget so much. Some of it is worth forgetting, and some we need to remember. Like that first rush of realizing how inadequate we are in front of God. The complete and total brokenness we experience when we enter His presence. That longing and absolute need for Him in our lives. That time that we forget so quickly as the colour fades from our life.

But not all is lost. Even as we watch the memories glide almost peacefully away from us, we retain some faint residue of those experiences. If nothing more than a thin film of mildew on some remote part of our memories, everyone remembers in some form what those longings were like. And how quickly we are to try to scrub ourselves of it. If we remember it, we are bound to it.

I am. I did. I wish I could say I didn't. But too often I find myself scrubbing furiously, trying to remove any trace so that I can claim ignorance. But I'm not ignorant. I know full well what I have left in my path, and I long to be back there. In that naive chasing after a full God. I want to be a child again. I want to, without abandon chase after a Father who loves me, cares for me, and who I have no reason to doubt. Someone who I feel like I can talk to one on one, without my own sin or my own doubts getting in the way.

I want to stop scrubbing the soap, and start scrubbing the dirt.

My life is inversed. I have forgotten. I want to remember what it means to run playfully through the fields of light once more. I want to leave this dark, damp, musty cellar and burst through the doors into the radiant sunshine once more. But I'm afraid of what I'll look like, what I'll be.

And then I remember. I was never enough. I don't deserve this wonderful gift. But it is offered freely to me. Someone has already taken all of this dirt, and cleansed me from it. Though I have done nothing to deserve it, I am clean. And I come once more, crawling on me knees, towards an almighty God who can strike me down at any moment, black like death, but white like the sun.

In that moment, I look down, expecting to see a pale, frail, naked body covered in soot, only to discover a healthy, clean, robed in white body. I am clean. And in that moment, that fraction of a second, I am clean.

I remember.

Grace

2007-11-10T19:43:00.001-07:00

I'll be honest with you, grace has always been a foreign concept to me. Grace is something that does not come naturally to me, and thus fundamentally differs from my core. Not my core beliefs, but of who I am, a schism between two parts of me, if you will.

Yet I have grace striking in recent weeks. While at work, I have plenty of time to listen to music, and I was listening through the entirety of Jennifer Knapp's collection. Have you ever had the music just slow for a moment, as the words jump out at you in a way you've never heard before. You've listened to the song a thousand times, and can repeat every word, but this one time, they smack you upside the head? I had one of those moments.

I've exhausted every possible solution,
I've tried every last game there is to play.
In this search for the Christ like perfection
I'm convinced I've only left my God ashamed
I cry I wonder can He hear my despair.
Afraid to lift my hands afraid he doesn't care.

And if He answers and I fall again
Can I still be His daughter can I still depend on Him.
When I'm down search every mistake, looking for new regrets.
Sometimes I forget, I forget that His grace is sufficient for me.
That it's deeper and wider than I can conceive.

His Grace is sufficient for me.
My convictions seem to fade with desperation,
My hope declines with each and every tear.
My sin an anchor and this grace just an illusion.

The gavels heavy and justice is near.
Up comes the light and finds the stains on my hands.
Up comes my pride, I hide, I know he won't understand.
Cause it's deeper than deep and it's wider then wide.
Why did I ever doubt now I'm dying inside. (chorus).

Wow. That just blew me away. I forget how wide it really is. Scratch that, I forget what grace is somedays. I forget how much I really need it. I forget that I need it at all.

That's a scary place to be in. It's a lot like forgetting to swim in the middle of the ocean. Like forgetting to breathe. Forgetting to eat. I need grace. I need God. Because as much as I like to think I'm autonomous, without the need for anyone or anything's input, I am not enough. I am insufficient to meet the benchmark. And that means the only way I'm passing is grace.

God's grace is sufficient for me. When was the last time you ask yourself whether you're trusting that grace? I have to ask myself daily. And when I answer it, I need to ask for more grace. None of us are perfect, and that is the entire point of it all.

But how often do we forget that? Think we need to be all that. Think we need to meet everyone's expectations? Think that we need to meet God's expectations. Reality check, there ARE no expectations on us. Thus grace. We are given something freely. Something undeserved. Something that we could never, ever accomplish.

That rocks my world.

Here's a Thought

2007-10-27T17:05:00.000-06:00

Challenge the day. Never stand still. Always think critically. Push your boundaries. Carpe Diem. How many of us repeat these niceties to ourselves when we get up in the morning? How many of us desire to truly seize the day and make a difference in the lives around us? But when the day is failing, and the night begins to roll over the horizon, have you really accomplished what you set out to do?

Perhaps it was the choices, things left unsaid, things that should have gone unsaid. Maybe you find yourself in a rut working somewhere you don't enjoy, studying something you feel compelled to complete, or with people you really don't like.

Many different things drag us. There are many pits that threaten to drag us down, and keep us in the dirt. But we are called to much more than that. Called to excellence, called to a life that changes those who are around us by simply being. Is that how people describe you?

I have often found myself settling. Going for the things that are easier. Choosing to befriend someone rather than challenge them, despite the latter being the right choice. Staying in the familiar, when God asks me to trek out into the unknown. It is the safe choice. It is the easy choice.

It's no wonder that Jesus chose the analogy of sheep when describing us. Minding our own business. Herded onto the next field. But that is not the only analogy that is used. We are called to be wise as serpents, and harmless as doves (Matthew 10:16), salt and light (Matthew 5:13-16), labourers in a field (1 Corinthians 3:6-9), children of God (Galatians 1:24-26 and 4:1-7), the Body of Christ (Romans 12:3-8 and 1 Corinthians 12:12-27), and the Bride of Christ (Ephesians 5:23-32).

Some of those are analogies of weakness, but a surprising number of them are ones of independence. Not from God, but from the world. They stand apart, they are unabashed. You can't avoid salt or light. You are always related to your parents. A body is inseparable from it's Head. Finally, a bride stands before a crowd, and is to be adored by those in attendance.

So why do we shrink away? There is no real easy answer to the question, but it really boils down to fear. We run away from those things we think will hurt us, or those that will leave us disillusioned. Jesus did describe that the path was narrow and less traveled, and I firmly believe that it is no less true today than when He said it.

Which path are you traveling?

Painting

2007-10-06T13:27:00.000-06:00

Have you ever stopped to just reflect on where life has taken you? The ups, and the downs, like a gentle rolling vista at places, and jutting, harsh mountains at others. There's little doubt that each of our lives would make an interesting painting, if only we had the wisdom to portray it.

If I had to paint the last 9 months of my life, it would be a high mountain pass, with thin, seeming impassable trails leading around sharp corners. If you dared look down, there would be the stunning view of forests, rivers and life growing, but you are so far removed from it. You gasp for breath, but not because of how hard you are working, but because of how high you are. Each step is a slow, tedious one as you plan your footholds praying that they don't give way. Without a doubt, falling would lead to a very painful, very awful death. Onward you must go, because going back is not an option. Inch by inch you crawl onwards, clinging to the slick cliff face.

I want to quit. I want it to all end and be back among the safety of the forest, with it's soft underbrush, and the gentle bubbling of water as it cascades down the riverbed. This is a place where animals graze quiety beside you, and the friendlier ones brush up playfully against your leg. It is safe, comforting, and free.

But I am not there any longer, I am high up this awful cliff, with promises of peace and joy unknown on the other side. It seemed like ages ago I set out on this journey, and time just scrapes slowly by. Rocks jab at my shins and thighs, scraping them through my clothes. I clasp tightly to the sparse handholds, and suffer bleeding palms because of it. My muscles ache, my head is throbbing, and my throat is parched. But somehow, I know that I would not be happy down in the forest. It is but a distant memory.

To be honest, I'm not sure how I would capture that in a painting. It would take someone far more talented than me to offer others a glimpse into my mind's eye. There have been times when I have felt a tortured soul. Strangely, however, I have also found peace. Despite Fiji, God has reaffirmed my vision for ministry. Despite Bethel, I have found a new church where I am challenged and grow. Despite Jordan, I will learn to love again, and be loved in return. Despite my job, God has blessed me with another, and one that I enjoy equally. Despite moving, I have a roof over my head and I've made friends.

My hands may be cut, but only so that they are stronger. My eyes may gaze upon the lush forest below, but only so I know how beautiful my new home will be. My muscles ache, but only because they have not been used. My throat is parched, but only so I thirst for the Living Water. My head may throb, but only so I appreciate rest.

Each small trial prepares me for infinitely more in the future. I am blessed.

A Parent's Love

2007-09-25T00:49:00.000-06:00

Stop and look at that photo for just a moment. What are some emotions that go through you? What thoughts do you think?

Sadness. Joy. Relief. Love. All of these feelings flooded through me when I first saw that picture. This is a woman who has spent seven months in Iraq, coming home to her daughter. It's powerful, it's moving. It's one of those photo's that can change the world. It conveys real, honest, raw emotion.

We live our lives behind veils and masks, attempting to mislead others to our true thoughts and emotions. We mask our own pain and hurts from those around us. But there are rare moments, just like this one, where they are transmitted uncensored for the entire world to view. It appeals to everything that is real within us, everything that screams out to be let loose.

A parent's love. All caught up in a single photo.

How much more does our Father in heaven love us? What kind of message does that speak to us about how much He wants everyone to come to know Him? Do we feel this same emotion when someone comes to know Christ?

Because you know that God hurts for the lost even more than that woman longed to see her child. He loves us that much.

Live

2007-09-19T14:06:00.000-06:00

Sometimes you have to wonder what is really going through the minds of the people around you. Are they serious? Do they think the same way you do? Are they really as free and happy as they like to let on, or is nothing more than a facade?

It is moments like this that I stop to remind myself that I am not alone. No matter how much I feel like it is me against the world, it does not have to be that way. I choose that path, no one makes me take it. It is a lie. When I am in a room of people, feeling entirely alone, that is really my own insecurities stopping me from reaching out to those around me.

Take a risk, take that leap off the cliff face to say hello to someone you don't know. It is irrelevant how good looking they are, what kind of clothes they have on, how many piercings adorn their face, or what style their hair is. What matters is that they are a human being, not so unlike you, and most likely thinking and feeling the same way.

"What does that mean?", you might be wondering. It means that no matter how many times your inner voice tells you that you are unique, that you are the only one who is feeling this way, and that everyone who looks at you is doing so with scorn, it's lying. That is your voice of insecurity shouting into your ear. It knows your fears, your weaknesses, and it will exploit it with vengeance.

Don't buy into it. Dig a little bit deeper, below those layers that have grown over because the path has not been used in years. Slice through your own inhibitions and find the other voices that have been smothered by your comforts and luxuries. The ones that tell you to take a risk, jump off the deep-end and live your life like you've always wanted to. Free, careless, joyful, and accepting of others.

That is a very real possibility. The only thing standing in your way is you. Your fears, your hates. It is time to pay them back. Smother them in turn, and seal those tunnels shut, marking them for demolition. You don't ever have to go back to that dark place.

Come into the light, and begin to live once more. You won't regret it.

Trust? Trust!

2007-09-15T23:31:00.000-06:00

I believe in you. I'd give up everything just to find you. I'd leave the ninety-nine to find that one. I would give my life, and my only son so that I could be in a relationship with you.

I don't know if you have noticed, but we have bred a culture of mistrust. The Army of One. A society where each other person is really only out to get you, and no matter how genuine they may seem, it's really just them attempting to extract something from you. Eventually it will come to the surface.

My conversations recently seem to be orbiting around this topic. Every person has their own story, but it always ends in the same statement, "I don't know why, I just can't!" Can't trust, won't trust, afraid of being hurt. Is this really what we were meant to be?

Adam needed a partner. He was alone, and this was not good in the sight of God. The first time in the Bible that God said something was not good. That's pretty significant. Can you imagine if Adam's first thought was, "I wonder when she's going to hurt me?" I bet he would have been heading in the opposite direction from Eve that that moment.

Jesus rebukes he disciples firmly, because they were turning away the little children. The disciples foolishly thought that Jesus didn't have time for these little tykes. Yet he calls the little kids around him, and blesses each of them. Then (are you paying attention?) he turns to the crowd, and says that the kingdom of heaven belongs to little ones like these! That must have been such a shock to those listening... "I have to be a little child?" they may have asked.

But I believe that just one aspect Jesus was touching upon here was their innocence. They wanted to come before Jesus. Have you ever watched little children play? They have their nasty sides at time, but they generally are trusting. They trust authority, they trust each other, and are good natured.

Who was the last person you trusted? Did they hurt you? Are you willing to trust again?

I guarantee you that if you want no one to hurt you again, no one will. You can lock the world outside, and have no contact with them, never let them close enough to hurt. But you'll be lonely.

You can live in community, and risk loving and hurting, or you can live alone. Absolutely alone.

Start today. Trust someone, put yourself out on a limb, and you may just be surprised to make a new friend who is not so different from yourself; afraid to trust.

Tired of my Tears

2007-09-14T17:09:00.000-06:00

Ray Charles

Girl, you better go back in your mind
Try and find yourself a brand new life
I love you but you're toying with me
So if you can't change, go on, let me be

Well, I'm sick of your lies (sick of your lies)
Tired of my tears (tired of my tears)
Girl, if you want me, better tell it like it is

Oh, when a boy meets a Girl he likes
He starts to dream
Before he know it, he's caught right in her scheme
I used to believe every word you say
But realize now, that was yesterday

I'm sick of your lies (sick of your lies)
Tired of my tears (tired of my tears)
Girl, if you want me, tell it like it is

When I'm with you, I lose control
That's why I'm offering you my heart and soul
You better take it now 'cause when it's gone
I won't even answer my telephone

Introspection

2007-09-10T22:49:00.000-06:00

Have you ever wished you could have peered into Jesus' head and see what all goes on in there? The day to day thoughts, like what he must have thought when he was hungry, and the group's change purse was running a little low. Did Jesus worry about these little things? Would he have gotten to his knees in true worry about whether he was going to eat, or would it have been in complete and total trust, without even a little bit of worry?

I wonder if Jesus ever stopped to do a little navel gazing. We see at the Garden of Gethsemane that there were torn feelings that were ruled by an overarching sense of trust in the Father, but how often did these moments happen? Did he weep before God about the disciples? About the Pharisees? About himself?

I wonder these things.

Undoubtedly, however, it raises an interesting practice that we so often neglect in our own lives. The practice of introspection. Not the piffly five minutes we spend to say our daily prayers and apologize for any sin that we may have committed, but the honest and true inward looking. Much like the day you finally get sick of your bathroom tub and get down on your hands and knees to clean it. No matter how much cleaner you spray on it, you HAVE to get down there and scrub with everything you've got. Put some elbow grease into it! It's hard work. It's abrasive, and it cleans.

When was the last time you've done that? When was the last time I did that? How often did Jesus do that?

I sat down a few days ago and scrubbed. I scrubbed, and I scrubbed, and I revisited those things that were hidden underneath the soap scum. Surprisingly, it was freeing. But perhaps the surprise only reveals to you how little I have done it. Like standing up and gazing upon a shining porcelain bath tub, there was a sense of accomplishment, a deep sigh was released from within me. Like removing contacts from sore eyes after a long day, I was refreshed.

And God met me. God met Jesus in the garden. God will meet you too.

Start there, and see where He'll take you.

Canada and Doctors

2007-09-06T00:27:00.000-06:00

Hilarious.

Adventures

2007-09-02T23:39:00.000-06:00

There comes a time in all of our lives where we have to take a giant leap off the deep end and see where we land. It's never an easy thing to do, because it requires letting go of all that we hold sacred, and throwing it to the wind. We look deep into the chasms of our own lives, and we question everything that we have avoided, in an effort to clean out the dark, damp corners. And in the end, we are still completely unprepared for what lies ahead of us.

But it's healthy.

Healthy in the sense that we should never cling too tightly to our own castles. Never should we allow ourselves to become 'satisfied' with where we are. Always pushing forward, always growing, always seeking to better ourselves. But we are a complacent people, choosing to rest on our laurels when we should push another mile before the sun sets. So God pushes us off the deep-end with only the phrase, 'trust.'

So trust I will. I will not be the rich man, who cannot follow Jesus, but I will be a fisherman, who drops his nets and goes. God, help me to be a fisherman.

A Crumbling Tower

2007-08-29T16:23:00.000-06:00

20In a large house there are articles not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay; some are for noble purposes and some for ignoble. 21If a man cleanses himself from the latter, he will be an instrument for noble purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.
22Flee the evil desires of youth, and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart. 23Don't have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. 24And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. 25Those who oppose him he must gently instruct, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth, 26and that they will come to their senses and escape from the trap of the devil, who has taken them captive to do his will.

God knows I have done enough thinking in the past month. There are times when it feels like a mountain is infront of me, and when I get to the peak, it collapses around me. While I slide down the steep embankment, God is faithful to remind me that I am not on my own personal mission, but on His.

That's a foundational difference. God has set before me a vision, and a dream; Any opposition acts as a litmus test for the vision I have in my own mind. Is it from me, or is it from God? What is it that the critic is saying? Are they challenging me based off of the desire to see me bettered, or attempting to hinder the dream at any cost? Are their criticisms valid, or are they flowing out of fear, or malice?

Paul knew exactly what he was saying when he wrote to Timothy. Don't let these people pull you down into the mire, that's not what is important. Keep your eyes on the horizon, keep running that race, and rid yourself of all the things that hold you back. Let your heart rest upon the only true, noble goal, God. This training is paramount to the mission on which Timothy is on, because it rids him of everything that will drag him into the mud.

Finally, and consequently, Timothy will learn to deal with these critics in a very Godly manner. Gently, but not weak. To instruct them in what God has to say, to lead them on to the vision God has placed on his heart. No deterrent. No hesitation. No looking back. Build up and support those who are around you, encourage them in the fight, that we may push the battle lines forward together, and realize that this mountain does not need to be climbed, it can be moved.

Youth is never a hindrance to the plans of God. In fact, the enthusiasm they bring to the table is often a boon. But that is a topic for another day.

Ever Felt This Way?

2007-08-01T14:02:00.000-06:00

Rock

2007-07-14T19:08:00.000-06:00

The Wise and Foolish Builders

Matthew 7 -- 24"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. 26But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."

Jesus must have known more intimately that we can imagine what it meant to be human. We like to glaze over the humanity of our saviour in favour of his Godship. We place him far about the clouds, where we can stand and adore him, and forget that he purposefully came down from that pedestal to understand what it meant to be human.

Thirty years he worked as a carpenter. Building, destroying, planning, hurting. Working in the heat of the sun, enjoying a cool drink of water, hitting himself with a hammer. Sitting down at the end of the day utterly exhausted. Sweaty, dirty, smelly. He was a man, too.

What more this statement must have meant for those listening to him. Jesus, a man that had grown up, talking about the need to build your house on a rock. This was a man (a God-man) who knew what this concept meant, what all it entailed, and why it was so integral to our daily lives.

The Rock. Building our house upon a rock. I'm no builder, but I'd imagine it would be a lot more work to build on that rock. More preparations would have to be made, you'd have to carry heavy loads up the rock so you could assemble them. More effort would have to be asserted to secure the building on it's foundation. It would be a lot of work.

But that rock holds steady in the midst of life storms. No matter what the wind may throw at you, the foundation would cling to your walls and hold it steady. That rock would never move despite all that nature would throw against it.

I'm learning (again) what it means to build my house on this rock. While I wish I could say I only needed to learn something once, and it would be mine for all of time, it is not true. I am but a man, and I find myself relearning the basics far too often. While the winds around me throw their fury against the paper walls I've built, the Rock reminds me where I need to build. It's more work, it's less travelled, but the results are worth it.

When the world shifts around me, and the thunder storms roar, there is a peace deep within my soul. It soothes me when I cry, and it laughs jovially with me in my peace. It listens when uncertainty draws near, and my friends are distant, and it withdraws itself when I begin to take it for granted.

Life is a journey, and there are mountains to be transversed. Remember, however, that your house should always be built upon that Rock.

Moving On

2007-07-01T21:44:00.000-06:00

There comes a time in everyone's life when you have to move on. It may be from a relationship, a job, a town, a church, friends or family, but you must move on. A variety of reasons could be influencing your decision, and there may be a momentous backstory that drives you forward. Nonetheless, there is a pulling deep within you that begs you endlessly to stay where you are, to not move on.

Change is never easy.

It is always the easy thing to stay with status quo. "It's good enough," you might say to yourself, and in many ways it very well may be true. But is it the best that you can possibly do? Is this really challenging you, is it's really what's best for you?

These are some of the questions I have been asking myself over the past few months. I poured my heart out into numerous situations, and it didn't pan out. Things didn't go the way I thought they would, and I got burned. That is part of life, you live and you learn.

One thing in particular that I've learned is that you must move on. It's hard, and you fight every ounce in your being, but that clean cut is so important. It allows you to heal, it allows you to grieve, and most importantly it allows you closure. You can reflect, meditate, grow and flourish from that point forward.

Moving on is healthy. It's good. And it hurts.

I Feel Like This Sometimes

2007-06-21T23:39:00.000-06:00

God, give me the strength I need to keep on walking.

Taking Risks

2007-06-16T22:20:00.000-06:00

Safe. A Haven of Rest.

But is it?

What have we created? How have we twisted one of the most beautiful gifts we have received into something mutated and fragile? We push those we need the most away because they offend us, they challenge us, and they make us worry about security. Suddenly the entire world is put into flux, and we are tossed and thrown about, unsure of when it will stop.

But I wonder if this isn't exactly how Jesus wanted it to be. Think about it with me for a moment. Jesus comes from heaven, and spends 30 years observing us. Getting the lay of the land, if you will. I'm sure there were some very remarkable moments in there. At the age of 12 he was teaching in the temple courts, astounding even the learned teachers of the day. When he comes into his own, and begins his ministry, he turns everyone on their head.

To follow Jesus is to drop everything. Your job, your security, your life, your family; nothing is sacred except Him. But we've been here. This is ground that we've tread before. Jesus was not a nice man, but he was great, he was determined, and he was demanding.

Can you imagine? You tell Jesus that you will follow him wherever he goes, and the response is, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." Ok, Jesus. Whatever you say.

This is the same man who goes out on a boat, falls asleep and only wakes when his disciples wake him because a storm is going to rip the boat into pieces. Lightning flashes in the backgrounds, another wave rolls over the sides of the boat, as your friends are bailing out water as fast as they can, and it still gets higher. Perhaps he even yawns a little, looks at you, and proceeds to demean you because you have little faith. LITTLE FAITH!? We're all about to drown, and he's sleeping!

Following Jesus is risky business. So why have we made it safe?

Jesus will take care of you. Jesus will wash away all your fears. Jesus will shelter you from the storms of life. Is this really true? Did Jesus himself say any of these things, or are they anecdotes we have made up to comfort ourselves?

Jesus will take care of us, but not always in the way we want. He will do what is best for us, not what is easiest. I'll be honest with you, that sucks. It puts you right in the middle of things, and He'll ask you for everything you have. Gold is purified through fire, and so are we.

Jesus will wash away all our fears. I have been doing some thinking lately, and my young mind has begun to realize that most of my decisions are made out of fear. Fear of losing something, of gaining something, of being something, of being seen as something, etc. Jesus gives us the freedom to choose another option than fear, but he doesn't rip it from our hands. That's up to us.

Jesus will shelter us from the storms of life. Do you know of one great Christian who could testify to being sheltered? Jesus keeps us afloat. Jesus makes sure we don't drown, but Jesus also puts us right out in the middle of the lake. He does this so that we are very clear about who is guiding the boat, and who is in control.

Following Jesus is hard. So why do we spend so much time trying to make it simple?

Taking risks is a core characteristic of following Christ. He will ask you for everything, absolutely everything, and you will realize that you take many things sacred that you never knew about.

The next time you walk into a church service, ask yourself the question, what risks am I taking walking through these doors? What risks could we take to follow after Christ? Am I really sold out for Him?

Just asking those questions is taking a risk... He might answer.

Sometimes It Just Hurts

2007-06-16T22:15:00.000-06:00

Sometimes the best things for us are the things that hurt us. When you get shot with a bullet, you must pull it out, and cauterize the wound before you bleed to death. Both of which can be extremely painful. Pushing pincers into a hole in your skin to grab a metal object and rip it from your body cannot be an experience anyone would wish upon themselves. Taking another hot metal object and touching it to their gaping wound to essentially burn themselves is also unpleasant.

Yet both are necessary for survival.

So we move forward in our lives, taking bullets, and healing from them. But none of this makes it easier. Each wound is fresh, and it hurts. Some bullets go deeper than others, and I'm in the process of pulling one right out of my heart. I don't enjoy it, it's not fun. But it is necessary to move forward, upward and onward.

The Fray - How to Save a Life

Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defence
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life
How to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life

Accountability

2007-06-13T20:32:00.000-06:00

I've always wondered why churches seem to be a cess pool for undesirable people. Why pedophiles, rapists and perverts seem to find a home within a church, and often go unchecked until a scandal breaks out... and then is quickly brushed under the carpet. I wonder these things because it doesn't strike me as the kind of Church that Paul, Peter, or Jesus would have wanted. It doesn't align with the way the Israelites were commanded to deal with sin, and no where in the Bible have I read, "Thou shalt forgive others unconditionally."

Let me clarify this a little more, before you begin to think that I have gone off the deep end of my theology. I am not abdicating a system where forgiveness cannot be found. I am not condoning a system where judgement is handed out readily, but only one of fairness and a prudent look at the true character of a person, rather than the naive hope of betterment.

The Bible advocates this method clearly. Jesus himself laid it out in Matthew 18:15-20. And what happens if he refuses to listen? Treat him as though he doesn't belong.

How many churches have you been to recently that follow this simple guideline? Talk to the person one-on-one, talk to the person with others, and if they still will not have a repentant attitude, confront them as a church. And if they still refuse? Discipline.

Perhaps I'm being blunt here, but the church has generally become weak, in it's attempt to become nice. Jesus was not a nice man. He got right to the heart of issues, confronting people with their sin. He had ample time for those who were willing to listen and learn, but he was downright rude to those who's hearts were hard.

Tell me, who do we invite in our doors today? Who do we put in positions of leadership?

Is there accountability in church today?

Relevant

2007-06-10T22:22:00.000-06:00

Acts 2:37-42

When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, "Brothers, what shall we do?"
Peter replied, "Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call."
With many other words he warned them; and he pleaded with them, "Save yourselves from this corrupt generation." Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand were added to their number that day.
They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.

You have to wonder. The church in Acts was particularly relevant to their church. Our society is run by products and people that strive to be relevant to the culture, and yet when it comes to Jesus, we like to shrug it off and say that we are called to be apart. Yet I struggle with the question how. How are we called to be different? Should we separate ourselves entirely and form colonies for believers? Surely we can all see the folly in that. Are we to always wear suits and ties, and put our best image forward? Are we to avoid all the places where we might be seen with sinners, as to separate ourselves?

Somehow, it seems to me that these actions are those of the Pharisees, not of Jesus himself. Jesus went and dove into the world of prostitutes, tax collectors and sinners. He waded among the common people, attending weddings and walking through towns. He taught thousands of people at a time, all eager to learn more about Jesus.

But why? He was different.

Jesus didn't separate himself from the people, he melded with them. His teachings were radically different (the separation) from the teachers of the day, and yet they were relevant because Jesus got to the heart of matters, and didn't avoid the hard questions. If something was on your heart, Jesus would deal with it. If there was sin hiding in your heart, He would root it out.

Is our church today relevant? With our big buildings and fancy powerpoints, we seem to have all the tools we need to reach out to people. But a chasm is deepening between us and culture with every year. We try to be relevant, and culture pulls away. We try to be hip, and people call us fake. He try to use the latest technology to bring people in, and it fails to convey the real message.

The basics. Jesus was all about the basics. How do you live? Are you following God? Where is your heart at? He was strangely bold, and yet sensitive at the same time. Aslan is not a tame lion.

We as a church need to learn what it means to LIVE our message. Starting first with rooting out the sin in our own hearts, collectively, and consecrate ourselves to be holy. Stop the bickering and fighting and focus on the only thing that matters: God.

Then, and only then, can we look outward to the world around us, and focus on what is on their hearts. We are the salt. We are the light.

On the Topic of Church

2007-06-03T23:28:00.000-06:00

Perhaps it is me. Actually, come to think of it, it most likely IS me. I enjoy pushing people's buttons, and seeing what comes out. Sometimes it is something you never expected to see, and sometimes it is something you hopes you never would see. Christians above all are fun to push outside of their comfort zones, because we design church all around others comfort zones.

You walk in the door, and there is usually someone there to greet you. They have a warm smile, and a ready handshake. But if you don't want to 'confront' the greeters, you don't have to. You can just as easily slip by them. There is a foyer area, with coffee urns ready to give you a free boost to make it through the pastor's sermon this week. When you enter the sanctuary, there are ushers there to give you a bulletin, and point you in the right direction.

You sit down, usually on a comfy pew (because those old, hard ones weren't comfortable), and are free to open your bulletin to inform anyone around you that you aren't too interested in talking. It will tell you what you can expect from the morning service, the latest goings on in the local hospital, and any events you may want to attend (or avoid) for that week.

Shortly thereafter, the music will start, cuing the herding of people into the sanctuary. They will quickly sit down, trying to be as polite in fighting for their normal spots as possible. If you happen to be sitting in 'their' spot, they will politely shuffle towards you, give you a polite smile, and then start polite small talk with you.

Then comes singing. You can expect songs like, "Lord, I Lift Your Name on High", "Great is Thy Faithfulness", "The Old Rugged Cross", "Shout to the Lord", "Shine, Jesus Shine" and other such songs. Don't worry if you don't know any of them, just close your eyes and think about your week. People will be impressed, I promise. You can point your eyes to the front also, where the words will be queued on a giant screen, with beautiful backgrounds. Be prepared, as some people may raise their heads, and if you're in a particularly lively service, people may sway back and forth in some semblance to the beat.

Ultimately, there will be a point in time when some man (most likely) will get up in front of the entire crowd. Everyone will come to a gentle hush, with the strange buzz of practised anticipation. And here's the main attraction, the show. You know what he'll do? Talk. And talk. And talk. Sometimes it'll even be interesting. Some will take notes, some will nod their heads in agreement (we think), and some will sleep. Since you're there, I'm sure you'll try to pay attention. You'll have wide open ears. But after six or seven minutes of listening to a monotone drone, your mind will start to wander. Thoughts of sunshine, dinner, swimming and the ocean will cross your mind. And then it'll snap back as you remind yourself that it's relevant, and important to your well-being.

And then you'll leave. Did it make a difference? Do you remember what it was he talked about? Will you tell anyone about it tomorrow?

Is this the church that Jesus envisioned? Is this really His body? Are we the vehicle to take His message to the nations? Somehow, in it's current iteration, I doubt it.

So what then? I don't know. But I hope you'll journey with me as I seek out that answer.

Jumbled

2007-05-10T22:43:00.000-06:00

Have you ever attempted to write something that has no meaning to you? It's horrendous. Have you ever attempted to write something that has no meaning to you when your head is filled with things that tear your heart out? It's nigh impossible. I have spent today attempting to give my thoughts a path to drive down, and they decided to go four by fouring.

Not the Cherokee, this is sort of a gravel road kind of offroading either. We're talking through fields that are layered in feet of mud, rocks nearly as big as the car, and tree trunks that have never seen man before. They wander free over the landscape that is my life, and dare me to tame them.

Lack of work, lack of direction, lack of security, indecision, uncertainty, and doubts fill my mind. They tear at me, begging me to lay down. They laugh as they push me round, biting and scraping at me until I fall. But I cannot, I will not give them my will. Remember, we were all bought at a price.

One moment, it seems like I have everything sorted out, and five minutes later the framework has crumbled before me. I'm left back where I started, attempting to piece things together. But it is amazing how a simple conversation can help you sort things through. Amazingly, verbalizing your discombobulation snaps it into order. The reality is that this life is not my own.

So I broke up with Jordan. Someone who I loved, and continue to love right now. That is, by far, the hardest decision I have had to make yet in my young life. Did I have good reasons? I sure hope so. Do they feel like they are enough? Never. But as I talked with someone this evening, the reason why became bright and clear once more, we're at different places in life.

Have you ever tried to drive a standard that's clutch is going? Either you engage the clutch, give it some gas, and it slips out of gear, or you go to put it into gear, and the gears clash, grind and make everyone in the car wince. There is no proper way to drive a car like that, you have to take it into the mechanics to get it fixed, and quickly. If the clutch and the gears aren't in sync, then you go nowhere.

So I don't have a job, and there are no real tantalizing prospects. I don't have an infinite source of funds, and I am looking to God to provide me with passion. And so far, I've drawn blanks. Sure, there are some ok jobs that may come through, but somehow, I just don't find myself energized, I find myself stressed out. So we go back to the topic of peace. Peace is knowing that when everything is falling apart around you, God is in control. And He reminds me of that daily, hourly, sometimes by the minute.

Who needs money anyways?

Lord I give You my heart
I give You my soul
I live for You alone
Every breath that I take
Every moment I'm awake
Lord have Your way in me

The Breaking Point

2007-05-09T17:05:00.000-06:00

I have a confession to make. It may not seem like a big deal once you really find out what it is, but to me, it's absolutely monumental. You see, I don't know about you, but I spend a lot of time adjusting how people think about me. Perhaps one person is too close, so I pull away just a little bit, or maybe I want them to pull away, so I'll adjust my behaviour. Or maybe I notice that I said something really awkward the last time I was with a group of people, so this time I'll keep my mouth shut, and laugh at all the right times, so they think better of me.

You see, I live a lie. I really wish it wasn't this way, and I have a feeling I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to correct it. I can put all the Jesus mumbo jumbo on it I want to try to justify it or cover it up, but the reality of the situation is that I'm not good enough. I'm deprived, I'm sick, and whether God sees me as perfect or not, I still struggle with the fact that I'm not.

The past month or so has been spent praying. Praying about what is going on, praying for answers, praying for relief, praying for this, or that. Honestly, if you listened to my prayers, you'd think that God was a supermarket, and everything was on sale. "Moaning Young Adult on Isle 3, Cleanup on Isle 3 please!" Supermarkets are great. You go in, you take your cart, you browse a little, take a guilty pleasure stroll down the candy isle, and you leave your money and take everything home.

God is not a supermarket.

No, God is more like going home for the holidays. You show up, you greet everyone, you are amazed at how they look, once you get past the small talk, you start telling them how you're really doing, and then you want their advice. You want to feel loved. This is the one place where the people know you so well, that it doesn't make sense to lie. They saw you naked, and they still love you. They heard your voice squeak, and they only made fun of you for a few years. They were at your soccer games. You don't take what you want from them... you give back too. To talk to God requires conversation.

I'm scared, there's no point in denying it. Everything in my life is in upheaval. Perhaps it's because I've been depending on my old friend, me. Me has all the skills he needs to survive. Me knows what is best. Me can get everything and anything done just when it needs to be done. Me needs to be taken out back and shot.

Enough of Me. I'm sick of me. More of You. Let it all be You.

I've tried to do it on my own. It never works. Let it be a stake in the ground. Here is where I pick up my rusty armour, don my unused sword and begin that journey back Home once more. God willing, I'll see you there.

No One Said it Wasn't Going to Hurt

2007-05-08T23:29:00.000-06:00

Deuteronomy 31:8

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never
leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.

Jesus never promised to make us happy. He never promised that the path would be smooth, paved and free of potholes... in fact, he promised just the opposite. Have you ever stopped to think about how idiotic that is? This is God incarnate, wanting to establish a new way of interacting with the beings He created, and He tells them that their life will be hell if they decide to follow him. They will be tortured, made fun of, spat at, hated, all because they believe in Him. Who in their right mind would ever do that?

Worse yet, there are times when He, like any good parent, asks us to do things that suck. The plain old, bottom lip out, arms crossed and stomping across the room on my heels as hard as I can, are you looking at me, kind of way.

The difference is, He's not asking us to do the dishes. He's asking for absolute trust.

Have you ever participated in those trust exercises? You know the ones... before a support group starts, there has to be a common trust between everyone, so they put you all through ridiculous exercises like training dogs. You fall backwards into other people's arms. You go through fake-stressful situations so that you learn to 'bond' and 'trust' one another. Do you get the same feeling I do? These don't actually build trust, but merely facilitate you realizing the inevitable: that person you're catching would KILL you if you didn't catch them.

That's not trust. That's duty.

God doesn't need us. He doesn't require our worship to exist. The guy doesn't even sleep, because He created the sun and the moon. He doesn't need us to trust Him.

But we need to trust in Him.

It's a terrible human paradox. We need to be needed, and this is one situation where we definitely are not needed.

I have to learn to trust all over again. I have walked this path so many times before, and each time I look down, it seems like I'm treading the same territory one more time. You know what I've realized? This is not the same turf, but it is the same lesson. You take math for twelve years in school, and each time the grade you're taking builds off of the previous one. My faith is something like that.

It doesn't make it any easier.

I'll be completely honest with you, I'm hurting. More than I can really put into words or express in a tangible way. Father, you are taking me down a path I am unsure of. I feel as though there is a knife in my side, yet knowing full well that this is what you want for me. It gives me a strange peace in this storm.

Trust. I have confidence in what God is doing.

God never said this journey wasn't going to hurt. He promised me that it would hurt me, rob me of my innocence and rose coloured glasses. I didn't expect it to cost so many lives, literally an emotionally. I didn't realize that I would so often feel numb inside, and feel like quitting. I didn't know that I would stand at the front of the battle lines, heaving and thrusting, over and over until my muscles burn and threaten to buckle under the strain. I didn't know that it would rip my heart from my chest so that others could grow. That I would give up everything and everyone I love in a pursuit of something greater.

This hurts like hell. And the frightening thing is, it's all worth it.

Why I Hate Fixing Cars

2007-05-01T18:12:00.000-06:00

It's funny how many people have been commenting on how 'handy' I must be with cars recently because of some of the work that I and Paul, my brother, are planning on doing. Keep that last part in mind, because it's very important. On my old Jetta, we replaced the glow plugs, replaced the cold-start cable and a few other various things. On the Golf (hereafter affectionately referred to as 'Jade'), we haven't done a whole lot together, but that won't stop the future fixing that problem. We plan on dropping the transmission out of her, new wheels, bigger turbo, etc etc. Basically, Jade is going to be one mean lady by the time we're done.

Did I mention that I hate working on cars?

The don't make an ounce of sense to me. If I sit down with a computer, I know that I can always fix whatever problem I might accidentally create. Google is my best friend, and there are no depths that I am not willing to poke. Because I know that I can always dig myself out of any cave in my actions might create. I don't have that feeling with vehicles.

I went yesterday to change the oil. Nothing hard, pop off the engine cover, drain the oil, replace the filter, the oil plug and then refill. It's not rocket science. But we have to get that engine cover off.

The beautiful thing is that all of the bolts holding the engine cover were stripped or broken. Probably by some naive action I had performed in the past. What should have been a 30 minute maintenance took myself and my father nearly 4 hours and a trip to Canadian tire to fix. We ended up having to drill off the bolts so that we could get the cover off.

Then, with my confidence shot, we had to change the oil. Nothing big, but who knows what I can screw up on a routine job.

If only cars had a format option to put them back to factory settings.

A letter to the Global Church from The Protestant Church of Smyrna

2007-04-26T11:52:00.001-06:00

Dear friends,
This past week has been filled with much sorrow. Many of you have heard by now of our devastating loss here in an event that took place in Malatya, a Turkish province 300 miles northeast of Antioch, the city where believers were first called Christians (Acts 11:26).

On Wednesday morning, April 18, 2007, 46 year old German missionary and father of three Tilman Geske prepared to go to his office, kissing his wife goodbye taking a moment to hug his son and give him the priceless memory, “Goodbye, son. I love you.”

Tilman rented an office space from Zirve Publishing where he was preparing notes for the new Turkish Study Bible. Zirve was also the location of the Malatya Evangelist Church office. A ministry of the church, Zirve prints and distributes Christian literature to Malatya and nearby cities in Eastern Turkey. In another area of town, 35 year old Pastor Necati Aydin, father of two, said goodbye to his wife, leaving for the office as well. They had a morning Bible Study and prayer meeting that some other believers in town would also be attending. Ugur Yuksel likewise made his way to the Bible study.

None of these three men knew that what awaited them at the Bible study was the ultimate testing and application of their faith, which would conclude with their entrance into glory to receive their crown of righteousness from Christ and honor from all the saints awaiting them in the Lord’s presence.

On the other side of town, ten young men all under 20 years old put into place final arrangements for their ultimate act of faith, living out their love for Allah and hatred of infidels who they felt undermined Islam.

On Resurrection Sunday, five of these men had been to a by-invitation-only evangelistic service that Pastor Necati and his men had arranged at a hotel conference room in the city. The men were known to the believers as “seekers.” No one knows what happened in the hearts of those men as they listened to the gospel. Were they touched by the Holy Spirit? Were they convicted of sin? Did they hear the gospel in their heart of hearts? Today we only have the beginning of their story.

These young men, one of whom is the son of a mayor in the Province of Malatya, are part of a tarikat, or a group of “faithful believers” in Islam. Tarikat membership is highly respected here; it’s like a fraternity membership. In fact, it is said that no one can get into public office without membership in a tarikat. These young men all lived in the same dorm, all preparing for university entrance exams.

The young men got guns, breadknives, ropes and towels ready for their final act of service to Allah. They knew there would be a lot of blood. They arrived in time for the Bible Study, around 10 o’clock.

They arrived, and apparently the Bible Study began. Reportedly, after Necati read a chapter from the Bible the assault began. The boys tied Ugur, Necati, and Tilman’s hands and feet to chairs and as they videoed their work on their cellphones, they tortured our brothers for almost three hours*

[Details of the torture--
* Tilman was stabbed 156 times, Necati 99 times and Ugur’s stabs were too numerous to count. They were disemboweled, and their intestines sliced up in front of their eyes. They were emasculated and watched as those body parts were destroyed. Fingers were chopped off, their noses and mouths and anuses were sliced open. Possibly the worst part was watching as their brothers were likewise tortured. Finally, their throats were sliced from ear to ear, heads practically decapitated.]

Neighbors in workplaces near the printhouse said later they had heard yelling, but assumed the owners were having a domestic argument so they did not respond.

Meanwhile, another believer Gokhan and his wife had a leisurely morning. He slept in till 10, ate a long breakfast and finally around 12:30 he and his wife arrived at the office. The door was locked from the inside, and his key would not work. He phoned and though it had connection on his end he did not hear the phone ringing inside. He called cell phones of his brothers and finally Ugur answered his phone. “We are not at the office. Go to the hotel meeting. We are there. We will come there,” he said cryptically. As Ugur spoke Gokhan heard in the telephone’s background weeping and a strange snarling sound.

He phoned the police, and the nearest officer arrived in about five minutes. He pounded on the door, “Police, open up!” Initially the officer thought it was a domestic disturbance. At that point they heard another snarl and a gurgling moan. The police understood that sound as human suffering, prepared the clip in his gun and tried over and over again to burst through the door. One of the frightened assailants unlocked the door for the policeman, who entered to find a grisly scene.

Tilman and Necati had been slaughtered, practically decapitated with their necks slit from ear to ear. Ugur’s throat was likewise slit and he was barely alive.

Three assailants in front of the policeman dropped their weapons.

Meanwhile Gokhan heard a sound of yelling in the street. Someone had fallen from their third story office. Running down, he found a man on the ground, whom he later recognized, named Emre Gunaydin. He had massive head trauma and, strangely, was snarling. He had tried to climb down the drainpipe to escape, and losing his balance had plummeted to the ground. It seems that he was the main leader of the attackers. Another assailant was found hiding on a lower balcony.

To untangle the web we need to back up six years. In April 2001, the National Security Council of Turkey (Milli Guvenlik Kurulu) began to consider evangelical Christians as a threat to national security, on equal footing as Al Quaida and PKK terrorism. Statements made in the press by political leaders, columnists and commentators have fueled a hatred against missionaries who they claim bribe young people to change their religion.

After that decision in 2001, attacks and threats on churches, pastors and Christians began. Bombings, physical attacks, verbal and written abuse are only some of the ways Christians are being targetted. Most significant is the use of media propaganda.

From December 2005, after having a long meeting regarding the Christian threat, the wife of Former Prime Minister Ecevit, historian Ilber Ortayli, Professor Hasan Unsal, Politician Ahmet Tan and writer/propogandist Aytunc Altindal, each in their own profession began a campaign to bring the public’s attention to the looming threat of Christians who sought to “buy their children’s souls”. Hidden cameras in churches have taken church service footage and used it sensationally to promote fear and antagonism toward Christianity.

In an official televised response from Ankara, the Interior Minister of Turkey smirked as he spoke of the attacks on our brothers. Amid public outrage and protests against the event and in favor of freedom of religion and freedom of thought, media and official comments ring with the same message, “We hope you have learned your lesson. We do not want Christians here.”

It appears that this was an organized attack initiated by an unknown adult tarikat leader. As in the Hrant Dink murder in January 2007, and a Catholic priest Andrea Santoro in February 2006, minors are being used to commit religious murders because public sympathy for youth is strong and they face lower penalties than an adult convicted of the same crime. Even the parents of these children are in favor of the acts. The mother of the 16 year old boy who killed the Catholic priest Andrea Santoro looked at the cameras as her son was going to prison and said, “he will serve time for Allah.”

The young men involved in the killing are currently in custody. Today news reported that they would be tried as terrorists, so their age would not affect the strict penalty. Assailant Emre Gunaydin is still in intensive care. The investigation centers around him and his contacts and they say will fall apart if he does not recover.

The Church in Turkey responded in a way that honored God as hundreds of believers and dozens of pastors flew in as fast as they could to stand by the small church of Malatya and encourage the believers, take care of legal issues, and represent Christians to the media.

When Susanne Tilman expressed her wish to bury her husband in Malatya, the Governor tried to stop it, and when he realized he could not stop it, a rumor was spread that “it is a sin to dig a grave for a Christian.” In the end, in an undertaking that should be remembered in Christian history forever, the men from the church in Adana (near Tarsus), grabbed shovels and dug a grave for their slain brother in an un-tended hundred year old Armenian graveyard.

Ugur was buried by his family in an Alevi Muslim ceremony in his hometown of Elazig, his believing fiance watching from the shadows as his family and friends refused to accept in death the faith Ugur had so long professed and died for.

Necati’s funeral took place in his hometown of Izmir, the city where he came to faith. The darkness does not understand the light. Though the churches expressed their forgiveness for the event, Christians were not to be trusted. Before they would load the coffin onto the plane from Malatya, it went through two separate xray exams to make sure it was not loaded with explosives. This is not a usual procedure for Muslim coffins.

Necati’s funeral was a beautiful event. Like a glimpse of heaven, thousands of Turkish Christians and missionaries came to show their love for Christ, and their honor for this man chosen to die for Christ. Necati’s wife Shemsa told the world, “His death was full of meaning, because he died for Christ and he lived for Christ… Necati was a gift from God. I feel honored that he was in my life, I feel crowned with honor. I want to be worthy of that honor.”

Boldly the believers took their stand at Necati’s funeral, facing the risks of being seen publicly and likewise becoming targets. As expected, the anti-terror police attended and videotaped everyone attending the funeral for their future use. The service took place outside at Buca Baptist church, and he was buried in a small Christian graveyard in the outskirts of Izmir.

Two assistant Governors of Izmir were there solemnly watching the event from the front row. Dozens of news agencies were there documenting the events with live news and photographs. Who knows the impact the funeral had on those watching? This is the beginning of their story as well. Pray for them.

In an act that hit front pages in the largest newspapers in Turkey, Susanne Tilman in a television interview expressed her forgiveness. She did not want revenge, she told reporters. “Oh God, forgive them for they know not what they do,” she said, wholeheartedly agreeing with the words of Christ on Calvary (Luke 23:34).

In a country where blood-for-blood revenge is as normal as breathing, many many reports have come to the attention of the church of how this comment of Susanne Tilman has changed lives. One columnist wrote of her comment, “She said in one sentence what 1000 missionaries in 1000 years could never do.”

The missionaries in Malatya will most likely move out, as their families and children have become publicly identified as targets to the hostile city. The remaining 10 believers are in hiding. What will happen to this church, this light in the darkness? Most likely it will go underground. Pray for wisdom, that Turkish brothers from other cities will go to lead the leaderless church. Should we not be concerned for that great city of Malatya, a city that does not know what it is doing? (Jonah 4:11)

When our Pastor Fikret Bocek went with a brother to give a statement to the Security Directorate on Monday they were ushered into the Anti-Terror Department. On the wall was a huge chart covering the whole wall listing all the terrorist cells in Izmir, categorized. In one prominent column were listed all the evangelical churches in Izmir. The darkness does not understand the light. “These that have turned the world upside down are come hither also.” (Acts 17:6)

Please pray for the Church in Turkey. “Don’t pray against persecution, pray for perseverence,” urges Pastor Fikret Bocek.

The Church is better having lost our brothers; the fruit in our lives, the renewed faith, the burning desire to spread the gospel to quench more darkness in Malatya …all these are not to be regretted. Pray that we stand strong against external opposition and especially pray that we stand strong against internal struggles with sin, our true debilitating weakness.

This we know. Christ Jesus was there when our brothers were giving their lives for Him. He was there, like He was when Stephen was being stoned in the sight of Saul of Tarsus.

Someday the video of the deaths of our brothers may reveal more to us about the strength that we know Christ gave them to endure their last cross, about the peace the Spirit of God endowed them with to suffer for their beloved Savior. But we know He did not leave their side. We know their minds were full of Scripture strengthening them to endure, as darkness tried to subdue the unsubduable Light of the Gospel. We know, in whatever way they were able, with a look or a word, they encouraged one another to stand strong. We know they knew they would soon be with Christ.

We don’t know the details. We don’t know the kind of justice that will or will not be served on this earth.

But we pray-- and urge you to pray-- that someday at least one of those five boys will come to faith because of the testimony in death of Tilman Geske, who gave his life as a missionary to his beloved Turks, and the testimonies in death of Necati Aydin and Ugur Yuksel, the first martyrs for Christ out of the Turkish Church.

Reported by Darlene N. Bocek (24 April 2007)
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Please please please pass this on to as many praying Christians as you can, in as many countries as you can. Please always keep the heading as “From the Protestant Church of Smyrna” with this contact information: izmirprotestan@gmail.com // http://www.izmirprotestan.org

People

2007-04-24T17:46:00.000-06:00

It's funny. You got to a different country, and it opens your perspective to what you missed while you were at home. The luxuries that we indulge in everyday and simply take for granted.

But my passions just haven't changed.

I spent the whole day driving around and talking to different people. The FIM board, filling them in on what happened in Fiji, a friend who I've been keeping tabs on, professors, friends, random people. Each of the conversations were excellent, each of them showed me once again where my passions lay: people.

We are constantly changing, never the same. We have different issues, different hurts, different joys. We look at God differently, and through this collective knowledge and amalgamated variables, we have a complete picture. Exactly the way God intended it.

Each of us has something to contribute, something valuable. I love being able to bring that out in people.

62 Ways to Say "I Love You"

2007-04-19T17:05:00.000-06:00

1. Say "I love you."
2. Don't compare them to anyone.
3. Be courteous at all times.
4. Embrace the present moments without fear or guilt.
5. Live by the Golden Rule (Do unto others….).
6. Give them your full attention when talking.
7. Become their biggest fan!
8. Toast each other regularly.
9. Tell them how they bring love to your life.
10. Share funny quotes or events.
11. Talk about your day during mealtimes.
12. Read books aloud together.
13. Say you're sorry.
14. Recall good and bad memories.
15. Let go any bad experience and anger.
16. Encourage health in all its forms.
17. Let the tears flow together.
18. Act silly together.
19. Be lavish in praise.
20. Ask questions about opinions, feelings, thoughts.
21. Forget about labels.
22. Encourage adventures and risks!
23. Show your joy when they come home.
24. Bake cookies.
25. Forget about past mistakes.
26. Use flannel sheets in the winter.
27. Solve problems together - crosswords or war.
28. Show your gratitude for them.
29. Be a good sounding board.
30. Take pride in them. Show your pride.
31. Compliment them in front of others.
32. Spend time with them.
33. Listen to them.
34. Ask for hugs and kisses.
35. Take vacations together.
36. Tell the truth.
37. Use pet names.
38. Practice self-acceptance.
39. Hunt for treasure together.
40. Be interested in their interests.
41. Let go of jealousy.
42. Accept their weaknesses and flaws.
43. Ditch work or responsibilities to play with them.
44. Share chocolates, ice cream sundaes, milkshakes.
45. Ignore slights.
46. Pray or meditate together.
47. Practice forgiveness.
48. Watch classic movies together.
49. Leave notes or send letters.
50. Buy a "for no reason" gift.
51. Don't gossip or judge.
52. Give the benefit of the doubt.
53. Give space when they're in a bad or sad mood.
54. Learn something new together.
55. Go dancing.
56. Keep your promises.
57. Make them laugh.
58. Consider their feelings.
59. Hide a treat in their lunch.
60. Make home a fun place to be.
61. Let them make their own decisions.
62. Say what you mean.

Home

2007-04-12T21:47:00.000-06:00

I've finally arrived back in Canada. The travelling was fairly uneventful, and other than one of my bags arriving a day later that I did, everything went smoothly.

I'm still getting over jet-lag, which is really just feeling tired at odd times of the day. I just push through it, and am trying to adjust my sleep schedule accordingly. And finally, home is one of the best places you could ever find yourself. There is family, food, hot showers, warm beds and lots of love. I am comfortable, at ease.

With this, I find great joy, as my heart, my soul can finally relax and just let themselves take a breather. I am home.

Heading Home

2007-04-10T10:19:00.000-06:00

Well it's confirmed. I leave Fiji tonight at 10 PM. I arrive 49 minutes later in Vancouver... I WISH! It'll be over a 24 hour transit time, but it will be a good thing, as I look forward to spending sometime with family and friends.

God has used me while I've been here, but I get the distinct impression I may never know the full extent of what He has done through me here.

But I'm going home! YES!

The Final Night

2007-04-09T16:03:00.000-06:00

There is a good chance that tonight will be my final night here in Fiji. It's been a wild and bumpy ride, of an extent that I would have never been able to anticipate. Looking back on it though, you have to recognize that God has had His hand in it all. I'm not sure why He brought me here yet, and maybe I'll never know, but do I need to know?

The truth of the matter is that I'm where I need to be, and I always have been. He will guide me, He will direct me to the exact place that He wants me. My job is merely to be there and do what He asks me to do. I would like to think I've done that while I've been here in Fiji. It's not always been easy, and the words are rarely gentle words... reconciling that with my mission has been one of the hardest things I've had to do.

But now I can look forward. I will probably head home tomorrow night. I can rest for a few weeks, and then begin my job hunt. I can take a bit of a breather from the intense stuff for awhile as I look to God for my next adventure.

On the final night, I can honestly say that I leave this place with a peace in my heart. That gives me great joy.

Never Forget

2007-04-08T22:06:00.000-06:00

Our life brings us in contact with hundreds of different people. Some of them we will call friends, most we will never get to know, and some we will call enemies.

Hopefully the last of those categories will be the least, and hopefully we will not sacrifice what we believe so that most fall into the first. I would much rather be known as someone who stands for what I believe in than someone who compromises to make another person comfortable.

I honestly have no idea what my life will look like, but I have a small indication that it will not be filled with tea and cookies. There are times when my own pride gets in the way of a relationship, when I seek more for my own good than for the relationship. In those times I am desperately wrong, and I hope that years and wisdom will cull that behaviour out of me, so that it is not my pride, but theirs that hold back the relationship.

What do I mean by that? I mean that if someone calls me their friend, they are willing to face their problems, their own sin and stare it straight in the eye, demanding it out. They will be honest, decent people who are faithful and true. And if either of us are to cut the relationship short, it will because they will not face their own fear, their own sin.

In the midst of that, the desire is only to see people grow closer to God. Whether that be in looking to their past and facing the one thing they have avoided their entire life, or having done so, learning how to interact with God in both a personal and reverent manner. I have no idea what these things look like, I am still sorting them out for myself.

Friends. These people I cling to with a desperate fervour. They are faithful, true and they mean the world to me because of what we have been through. Their words are spoken wisely, and chosen carefully, for they know the impact they have on others. These are the people whom I trust.

As I leave Fiji, there are a few things that cross my mind. There is still much to be done here in Fiji, and I will continue to pray that God will bring about the right people to come here and work with the locals, strengthening the churches here. The people are thirsty for others to teach them from the Word of God in new and creative ways. To be encouraged to carry on in the faith when the going gets tough and make a difference in their communities. They can do great things, if only they had someone to show them the way. But to be here, to live here requires a heart for the people and the nation. It is not easy, and it is definitely not paradise. It has many flaws, and many schisms in the façade of a perfect place. There are many pitfalls, and many spots over which to stumble, and above all, I could not see someone doing it alone.

I hope many people will join me in praying for this nation, because the battle here has only just begun, and the people need as much cover as they can get. It will be long, bloody and furious. We must fight with them for what is right and true, so that they will find out once again what it means to live under the spirit of freedom.

These two things, of friends and battles, we must never forget.

Bleeding Hearts

2007-04-07T22:23:00.000-06:00

My hope is that in the next few years, God will raise up people who will have hearts for the people of Fiji. I was walking around today, and noting how desperately they need the gospel of Christ in their lives from people who are dedicated to living out the word of God for them. There are tons of ministry opportunities here for working with local organizations and pastors, and networking a giant ministry of churches that are all working together for furthering the kingdom.

They are a welcoming, friendly culture, but as with anywhere you go, there are infinite amounts of pain hiding underneath that smiling face. While the surface seems like crystal smooth glass, the undercurrents are turbulent and chaotic. They need Christians with bleeding hearts to come and show them how God can change their lives in very real ways.

I got up this morning and went to go practice with a Serevi’s rugby team. Man, I’ll tell you something, I could not run regularly in this sun. It’s blistering hot, and I’ve never been so tired so quickly. After about 15 minutes of drills, I was feeling like I was going to lose by small breakfast. Stop what you’re thinking, cause it’s not true!  I have been doing cardio for the past two months while I’ve been in Fiji, so I’m not completely out of shape!

After that, I travelled out to Denarau Island to get onto the internet. They offer free wireless out there, so I made the trip out, and in the end wasn’t sure it was necessarily worth it. I saved myself some money, but it took me a lot more of my time. Afterwards, I walked around town to see if I could find some decent deals on Fijian items, and I was wishing I’d picked up more while I was in Suva. They were higher quality, for less down there. But I’ll have to settle for a bit less!

Preparations are being made... less than a week left.

Friends

2007-04-06T23:24:00.000-06:00

Good Friday. And I felt like it was anything but. I was up at 8 this morning to be ready for the 9 AM service, sulu and all! While I can’t say the service was anything to write home about (ironic that I should be writing that on a blog... which people from home read), it opened up some new possibilities. Melissa and Serevi invited me over to their place for the day. So after I went to the airport, I walked down to their place.

Melissa is a woman who first came over with YWAM, met Serevi, and they ended up getting married. While I’ve seen them around, I never had a chance to get to know either of them, and I’m glad that before I left, we had that chance. Good conversations, food, laughter and working through the different situations from our different views. These are things that friends offer to us, and I have learned especially now to cling tightly to them.

I spent the whole day there, and I left feeling a little more refreshed than when I came. A little more informed about the situation here in Fiji, but most of all just enlightened and I had a chance to just offload some of my thoughts and then forget about them as we spent time together.

There are many good people here in Fiji, and even while I am gone, they will be in my thoughts and prayers. Friends, each one of them. Different cultures, different worlds, but we share something in common: Christ.

Anticipation

2007-04-05T23:14:00.000-06:00

I was all over Nadi today as I closed up some loose ends. There is a flurry of things you need to do when you are unsure of the end date of your stay. One conversation that came out of that was with the pastor at the Dream centre. When I told him that I would most likely be leaving early, he smiled at me and asked if it was homesickness. That raised an interesting point in all of this. I’ve never missed anything back home to the point where it would be the reason for my leaving to go home.

Sure, I’ve had my fair share of missing particular things (milk, hot showers, feeling clean, my car) but none of those things have inhibited my ministry here by being overwhelming in their nature. I have been able to focus on the events and the people that I met while I’ve been here. For that much, I have been thankful.

Now, the anticipation builds. The rush of being back on home soil, of seeing family, Carys, hot showers, homemade food, and the feeling of security. These things I all look forward to, with great anticipation for my arrival at home.

It’s a neat feeling.

This morning, however, I had a chance to speak one last time to the Nadi Airport School for Easter. I took them through a very unorthodox story referring to Jesus taking our place, and ended it with talking about how there is only one way to heaven. So many of those kids are growing up in a Hindu home, and will ultimately end up believing in many gods, hopefully God can water some of these seeds to see it through.

Small Blessings

2007-04-04T21:49:00.000-06:00

If there is one thing these past few days have taught me, it’s to appreciate the small blessings that you have in your life. Perhaps that’s hot water, clean water, a roof over your head, food to eat, money to spend, a car, paved roads, friends, family, security, safety, hope, or any other number of things, you have to find that hope.

This morning, after I had my shower, I sat down and had a good chat with Jackson. I am so excited to see and hear of the things that God will do through him in Nadi once he has had some time to spread his wings. His heart truly is in the right place, seeking after God, and he has a heart for the people to whom he is ministering to. Even during our chat, his heart went out to me, and we share a kinship there as look forward to the future. He has been more of an encouragement than I can really put into words, because of the prayers he has offered up for me, and the small words that have lifted me up.

While I was at Jong’s today, I did laundry. As I was talking to people back home, my body literally ached, and my head hurt from all that was running through it. My emotions, my soul and body were connected and they were each feeling the others pain. Imagine my surprise then when I went out to check on my laundry and I found it all folded nicely on top of the dryer waiting for me. I don’t know who did that for me, but such a small gesture was such a huge blessing to me.

These are the things we live for, the small smiles between the storms.

Knowing the Gems

2007-04-03T21:37:00.000-06:00

Perhaps these past few months in Fiji have been to show me what it can be like. The question that you ask is what ‘it’ is. This is a very pertinent question, because the entire sentence, indeed my entire thought rests on ‘it’. Our lives will bring us across many people, some of whom will be good, and some who will be inexplicably awful. Perhaps they will do it on purpose, or maybe, just maybe they will do it in complete ignorance. I hope for their sake it will be the latter, maybe then they will have an excuse when they stand before our Father on that final day.

I woke up this morning with a purpose. I was going to dig deep into the word, and then employ a little old fashioned carpe diem. Seize the day and make a difference. Indeed, this was the day to change the world. Until in my surge of excitement, someone tied my shoelaces together, and I fell flat on my face.

After spending 30+ minutes doing my devotions and showering, that fateful moment came. “Stephen, we need to talk.” – breathe deep man; God will carry you through this. Ken once again wanted to have a conversation with me. I quickly got dressed, prayed my heart out, and then went out to meet him. The details of the conversation are really not important. The statements from it are:

You are unfit for ministry

You are an angry person

You have many undealt-with issues

Imagine with me for a moment, as I’m sure you have gotten so good at doing by reading through my blog, that some stranger walks up to you on the street and starts to tell you that you are good for nothing, and the calling that you have received is wrong. You’ll never make it. Now I want you to take that moment in time, and I want you to capture it. Hold it dearly. What emotions are you feeling? How would you react? Where do you think those words are coming from within this stranger, this man?

These are the things I was faced with today. I chose to walk away. I’ll be honest with you, there was pain inside of me, frustration, anger, and much hurt. I was flustered, lost, just like someone took a sword and cut my hamstrings. I was floundering around like a fish.

So I prayed. I prayed hard. And I gathered my things together and set out to carry on my day exactly like I planned, with some small modifications. I was no longer going straight to the Dream Centre to talk to them about helping, but to an internet cafe to consult with those close to me and the situation.

That afternoon I went to the drop-in centre, and talked to them about helping in whatever way I possibly could. I was unsure of how long I was going to spend in Fiji, but just let me help. An opportunity and a glimmer of hope in a very dark place.

The evening came, the time of reckoning. One final conversation, one final opportunity to test what God would have left for me here. I talked to Ken after the Bible study apart from everyone else. Told him the effect his words had on me, and accounted for him the conversations I had with those who are close to me, and to whom I’m accountable. Moving to another church is not an option, and if was not going to work with him, when would I be moving out of the BDC (the place where I am living)?

There it is. The heart of the matter. “Cool, great. When are you getting out?”

Perhaps God shows us what it is like to put our feet on bare coral, to tear them to shreds in the midst of a salty ocean, stinging us to the very core so that we will know what it is like to put our feet on white, perfect sand. Feel it conform to our soles and suck our feet into its warmth. Maybe God gives us these people to reveal to us how much we need to treasure those who support us and give us grace when we need it most.

I will close with this, a simple prayer.

Father,
Thank you for showing me these things.
Place them deep within my heart, and let me never forget the lessons that you have shared with me. Let me treasure with a deep kindred the people who love and support me, and those I will encounter in my future ministry who will be an encouragement to me.
Let me never forget these things. Let me never forget that when I looked back through the sand, into the last two months, and I saw only one set of footprints, it was in those moments that you carried me; and you carry me still. These lessons are like fire.
Thank you for them.
Amen.

The Lion Waits

2007-04-02T21:48:00.000-06:00

1 Peter 5:8-9
Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

I want you to imagine something with me. You are standing in the midst of a picturesque meadow. The hills roll gently and you are surrounded by patches of birch and pine trees. The sky above is a brilliant shade of blue, and clouds roll past, meandering on to unknown places over the mountains in the distance. Squirrels chitter at one another from the trees, and birds sing comforting songs as they amble through the air in search of food. It’s a warm day, not quite hot, but cool enough that you are perfectly comfortable.

But not all things are lazy. You stand there surrounded by your countrymen, each dressed alike and armoured similarly. You carry your sword at your side with an air of knowledge. This is a scene you have seen before. As you take a closer look, you noticed you are joined by women and children, each armed and ready. Clearly, they know how to use the weapons that are strapped to their hips.

Then it starts. Like a mighty ocean wave, you push forward in unison, surging towards the shore of combatants. Chaos. You crash into the ranks of the other army, swinging your sword, garnishing your shield. You take arrows to the breastplate, swords clatter under feet and an axe clangs against your helmet. Disorientated for awhile, you get your bearings and realize that you’re lying flat on the ground. When you look up, you see many warriors fighting bravely onwards, despite being vastly outnumbers. No matter how many enemies surround them, no one can hit them. Their armour is dented and bashed, but intact. When your head swings the other way, you see some putting down their weapons surrendering.

But the strangest sight of all is right in front of you. You see a lion prowling across the field, and with each soldier he comes across, they seem completely unaware of their presence. Some of them are arguing if he even exists. The argument quickly ends when one of two lose their head as the lion drags them to the ground. It is then that it sinks in: this is no video game. You’re in a fight for your life. The lion sets his gaze upon you as you awkward rise to your feet. The question is, do you raise your sword, or lie back down?

How foolish does it seem to think of laying your sword down, or taking off your breastplate or your helmet when the fight rages on around you? Yet how many Christians do that each and every day. Fiji has thrust me right into the midst of a major spiritual conflict. In many ways, it is similar to North America, fierce. The difference is that there is no guise of peace here. Pick up your sword and fight, soldier.

You can imagine how ironic I find it, then that when I first arrived the book I read was “This Present Darkness” by Frank Peretti. Not all of you may be familiar with this work of fiction, but it tells the tale of a group of Christians struggling for their lives and paints an interesting picture of Angelic battle over the heart and soul of Ashton.

Your prayers are felt. Your encouragements remind me I am not alone. Your letters tell me I am in your thoughts. I am surrounded by warriors, both Christian and Heavenly. The enemy unseen to me, yet real all the same. This time has challenged me greatly, and it has brought moments when I wondered if I could carry on another step. When you suffer from great disappointment, loneliness, spiritual oppression and discouragement all at the same time, it is hard to see the light. When your relationships suffer and you don’t know how it will turn out, you want to turn back. When it seems that your entire mission was pointless, you want to give up.

When all hope is lost, God reminds you that you are in a battle. The Devil is prowling the face of the earth looking for a soul to devour. Put on your armour and pick up your sword, it is time to do battle.

The View From the Pew

2007-04-01T23:22:00.000-06:00

April 1st. I didn’t even realize what day it was until now. Makes me want to post something about the flood waters rising too high for me to swim any longer, and I’ll see you all in heaven. But you are all so smart you’d ask yourselves how I’m connected to the internet if it was really that bad. But I digress, to the real meat.

I had no responsibilities today. No preaching, no announcements, nothing. It’s almost too bad, because when you go somewhere for such a short time, I wish I was swamped and begging to be let off the hook, for just one day of rest, rather than for work of any type. But it did give me a chance to look honestly at myself and the role of being a pastor. Ever since I studied Ephesians 4 this past Monday, one particular part of that passage has stood out to me.

Ephesians 4:11-12 It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up….

Read that carefully, the wording is very important. He gave each of these people not to perform the works of service, but to prepare the people for the service. While the pulpit and full-time work is important, it is not the be all and end all of the Body. It is merely the catalyst, the small spark that begins a chain reaction, ending in a powerful forward force.

That means the work is not from the pulpit, but from the pews. We as a collective body are the ones who make the difference, who literally are the hands and feet of Christ each and every day to a hurting world. That woman at work who has three kids and no one to help her; that man who lashes out at everyone in anger, these are the people we were born to help. They need the love of Christ as much as you and I do. Without us, they are doomed to a life of misery, and an eternity of hell.

Before church, I listened to a sermon from Brian Buhler. Some of you will know the same, and others should know the name, but it was refreshing to hear a sermon that was both well researched, well thought out, well presented, and dead on. At no time did my red flags go up wondering if what he said was correct, it all struck true. That is something I have sorely missed in my times here in Fiji, because these people lack excellent Biblical teaching. I was refreshed, and challenged.

That is the view from the pew: words spur action. Action spurs words. So on and so forth, with each person paying it forward to others, simply because of their love. You are the Body of Christ. You are the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and the teachers of the world. Without you, they will never know Christ. Without me, they will never know Christ. Be an example.

You Set the Tone

2007-03-31T21:51:00.000-06:00

There was real hope. It was raining late into the night, and so I was hoping that the trip this morning would not materialize. However, God had different plans for me. There were small blessings in the surprises, however, we started at 8 AM.

However, there is something to be said for starting off on the right foot. I moseyed on down to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face, and when I went to use the towel, guess who was staring back at me? A cockroach! That’ll get the blood flowing early on in the morning, and it certainly does nothing for morale.

As I sat in the van, God was working on me though, questioning my sour attitude (and it was DEFINITELY sour) and asking who I was really doing this for. Thanks for the reminder, God. One step at a time out of the doldrums and back into reality, and eventually I began to have a little fun.

Thus began the adventures for the day, and there were quite a few of those. The first was off-roading in a van. I’m telling you, if I had access to a pimped out jeep, I could have some serious fun in the back roads here in Fiji. We ran into a section of road that literally had a foot of mud. Tire tracks on both sides, and a FOOT OF MUD. Needless to say, the van didn’t fair so well, but there must have been some angels pushing, because there’s no way the five of us standing in the mud could have pushed that van through. So the feet got a tad dirty (sarcasm!), but the rest of the drive was grand, because it was literally like rally racing. Slight left turn, hard right turn, huge pot hole, big hill, hard left turn, pot hole, cement bridge, huge hill climb... just like heaven!

The camp site up in the mountains is pretty intriguing. Nestled between hills, and surrounded by pines, it’s a pretty beautiful spot. If only it had safe water, accessible roads, and electricity, it’d be a perfect spot. C’mon, you kinda laughed at that last sentence! We hacked back the jungle with two lawn mowers, two machetes and a weed wacker. It only took us 4 constant hours of work to get it all done, but now it is nearly ready for camp. I’ll try to get some pictures the next time we go up.

The afternoon involved a trip into Nadi. I needed to exchange my sulu for a slightly larger one, since bigger is always better with a wrap-around, and also to pick up some new sandals. After the usual, “Hi, I’m from Canada, no I’m not a tourist, no I don’t want to look at your shop, no really, I don’t want to look at your shop” and then just walking away, I got to all my destinations.

After that, I hopped onto the internet to catch Jordan online. I’m seriously not enjoying the whole distance thing, but there is another month and we’ll at least be in the same country and able to talk to each other nightly with consistent communications, rather than intermittent ones. Still, I am fortunate to be able to even talk to her while I am here, and for that I am indeed quite thankful.

And tonight? Tonight was spent with me, myself and I. I cherish these moments, because I am feeling a little worn out, and having a night to myself to just worry about... well, myself, is nice. I can do things that I want to do, and not talk to anyone if I so choose. Lets me recuperate for the coming week, and refocus myself.

I don’t know about you, but I need a night or two every once in awhile to simply process all of my experiences and learn from them. I don’t need to be doing anything thought provoking or special, I just need to let my brain rest from people and activity for awhile, and it will do it’s thing. I walk away a little more enlightening and feeling free.

I set the tone for my attitude, and ultimately for the day. Mr. Cockroach didn’t help things at all, but I need to make that choice to enjoy myself and remember who I’m serving. One month to go, and I hope it will be a month that I can serve with all my heart. But that’s up to me to paint that tone, isn’t it?

When the Week Comes to an End

2007-03-30T23:32:00.000-06:00

Fridays are always an interesting day. Have you ever noticed how setting a tone will change the entire atmosphere for the day? Every Friday I have the priveledge to go down to the Nadi Airport school and teach scripture there. As will all children, these kids are fun and receptive to the gospel, and presenting it in a fun, dramatic way just makes it all that more exciting. I love those kids, because they are a shining light for me while I’m here in Fiji.

Sure, my voice is hoarse, and my legs are sore by the time I leave the school. But I had fun. It’s not often that I get to say that as of late, and so I treasure those moments. Who knows, perhaps God is using that to plant seeds for much later on in their lives.

Fridays are always the day I know that I will be busy. After Scripture in School, I either get on a bus and head to Suva, or I will be staying in the Nadi area. One way or another, I know that in the evening I have youth that I need to attend. It’s a bit of a mixed bag, because there is so much I want to teach, just not to the kids. While Lami and Lautoka are well taken care of, the leaders here in Nadi haven’t had the resources or examples to them to show see how a youth group could be run. It’s disappointing, but I have to realize that it is also in God’s hands. Maybe time will smooth things out.

And now it is Friday evening. Time to go to bed. It’s raining outside, which means we won’t be going up to camp tomorrow (although that has yet to be confirmed!). I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited about that. I will be running into town tomorrow to exchange my Sulu for a little bigger one that fits me properly, and pick up some sandals. I’m actually looking forward to it.

Being busy is never a curse. It just means that God has places for you to go, and things to do. Being bored is never a curse, because it means you have time to meditate, and time to pray. These things, each of them, are blessings in their own right. Seeing them as such is often the hardest part.

The Group Effect

2007-03-29T23:37:00.000-06:00

Ah Thursdays. The day when I usually have to be up early in order to go out to camp and see what sort of things are available for me to do out there. Thankfully, this week did not involve my heading out to camp, so I was able to sleep a little and get some other work done this morning.

The afternoon, however, was spent fishing! Very different experience when you are shipping on the open ocean. One of the helicopter pilots out here has a boat, so myself, Sebastien and him (Adrian) went out on the boat for a few hours to see if we could catch any fish. Rather than using rods, we just used lines with the bait on the end. It allows you to feel the nibbles and quickly respond when you finally do get a bite on the line. I had two bites, but wasn’t able to pull either of them in. The second one almost got to the boat, but he must have ripped himself free before he got to the surface. Too bad, because it felt like a big one!

This evening, we had young adults at Melissa and Serevi’s. Melissa originally came over through YWAM and met Serevi while she was here, and they ended up getting married. There is a YWAM team in the country for a few months, so they took the devotions for tonight, and I got the week off.

You know... I have always been sceptical about the benefits of a YWAM mission, and tonight didn’t really do a whole lot to appease that doubt. The problem is that you bring in people with a lot of enthusiasm and passion, which is beneficial and good, but they lack knowledge. Imagine moving to France, and with all the passion and fervour in the world standing up and preaching to them in English. Despite your eloquent words and sentence structure, your compelling arguments, and your heartfelt faith, your words mean nothing to them: they don’t understand.

While that is a drastic example, I view these short term missions much the same way. If you don’t learn the local customs, if you don’t stop to get to know how they communicate and what spiritual level they are at, and what is really going on in their lives, how can you speak to them? When Paul moved into a new city, he would spend months with them preaching and teaching, sometimes staying for years before he moved on. This allowed him to perceive their specific needs and directly address them.

The team tonight had the best of intentions, and that is admirable at any time. However, in quite a few different areas they were actually quite rude while speaking (without intending to be). In Fiji, it is rude to stand in an informal setting when you are talking with anyone while they sit. Places such as church change this rule, since they are formal... but a small gathering is not. Guess how they presented their various testimonies? Standing up!

Quite a few of them seemed to be going on and on about the flood this past weekend. Obviously, in North America, to have your house flooded would be a huge deal. It doesn’t happen that often. But when you live in Fiji and live in a low-lying area, it happens once every couple of months. It is not the end of the world, it is an expected consequence. Had you listened to these devotions, however, it would seem that it was causing a massive spiritual crisis in the lives of the Fijian people. Small... but significant things that aren’t understood.

Finally, when the devotions were finished, and everyone was mingling... guess what happened? The Fijians sat together, and the YWAM team sat together. There were two or three members of the team who went out of their comfort zone and engaged the Fijian people, but the rest sat in their team and chatted amongst themselves. It’s sad to see, because at the end of the trip they will leave believing that they have made a significant impact on all the lives that they encountered, when the truth may be that they will be remembered as a ‘change of pace.’

All of this could be remedied with a little cultural integration education. Small things that make a big difference. Oh... and team leaders that don’t let the group form their own clusters. That group effect is a nasty thing, because it allows us to stay in our comfort zones in the most alien of places. Why come all this way to talk to people from the US of A? Time to get out and meet new people, and change some lives!

It’s a Matter of the Heart

2007-03-28T22:38:00.000-06:00

I spent most of the today with Sebastien. We went out for lunch, went looking for some parts for his windsurfer, and then just spent the afternoon chilling. Because it was my day off, I can’t say that a whole lot exciting really happened. There was a possibility that I would go fishing, but that didn’t pan out for today, perhaps tomorrow.

One thing that did come out of our conversations was the reminder that what is going on in our hearts pours out of our tongues.

Jeremiah 9:8 Their tongue is a deadly arrow; it speaks with deceit. With his mouth each speaks cordially to his neighbour, but in his heart he sets a trap for him.

Have you ever thought about what that really means? “Their [Israel’s... or our] tongue is a deadly arrow” Perhaps if Jeremiah was writing today, he would say that our tongue was like a bullet. Or maybe, for you geeks out there, a rootkit. It is used to destroy, cut down. But it is cunning as well. It likes to disguise itself with lies so that its true intent is not really known. While we put on a cordial exterior, a brooding infection manifests itself inside of us.

Proverbs 15:28 The heart of the righteous weighs its answers, but the mouth of the wicked gushes evil.

Proverbs 16:23 A wise man's heart guides his mouth, and his lips promote instruction.

Matthew 12:34 You brood of vipers, how can you who are evil say anything good? For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.

The last verse is probably the most damning. Imagine this situation. You have been in your church for your entire life, listening to the teaching of your pastor... absorbing his every word and revelling in his wisdom and prowess in opening up the scriptures to you. Some unkempt, uncouth Ontarian (for all my western Canadian friends) walks into the church, and calls your pastor a hypocrite and a false teacher. How do you think you would react? Imagine what it must have been like to watch this scene with Jesus and the Pharisee’s unfold then!

Not only would he call your pastor a hypocrite, but accuse him of being evil, rotting from the core out. These are no gentle, frothy accusations that Jesus levels. They pierce to the heart of matters.

I would garnish from these teachings that the Bible teaches us that what we let flow out of our mouths is merely a reflection of what goes on in our hearts. This can especially be leveraged over time, as a consistent pattern arises from multiple encounters.
If you’re like me, you want to stop and examine what you have been saying! Perhaps you look and are surprised at the things you’ve said, good or bad. Your attitudes, your reactions, the topic of your conversations. These all make a difference. Are you sarcastic, or loving? Are you cold, or welcoming? Are you judgemental, or hospitable? Are you condescending, or encouraging?

There are many things this brings to light... in my own life and in the lives I am involved in while I’m here in Fiji. It blows the chaff away, and leaves me only with the seeds of the heart. What you find is disturbing. Where you should find pure, unadulterated wheat, you find black, maggot infested, rotting seeds. These are things that should have been culled and removed years ago, and yet they still remain.

It serves as a warning sign to us. Do not wait to cut away what cancer grows in your heart. Remove it by whatever means necessary and rise above it. Because our faith, the Way... it’s a matter of the heart.

In the Limelight

2007-03-27T22:53:00.000-06:00

Psalm 61:1-8

For the director of music. With stringed instruments. Of David.
Hear my cry, O God;
listen to my prayer.
From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the foe.
I long to dwell in your tent forever
and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.

Selah

For you have heard my vows, O God;
you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name.
Increase the days of the king's life,
his years for many generations.
May he be enthroned in God's presence forever;
appoint your love and faithfulness to protect him.
Then will I ever sing praise to your name
and fulfill my vows day after day.

There are times in my life when David and I get along just great. You know how it is. Things don’t seem to be going your way in the slightest, so you turn to the Psalms to find out how David wrote about the situation. But maybe, like me, you conveniently neglect how David ends his Psalms. No matter what he is going through, he turns to God in worship. That last part is the one that sucks the most.

Do you know why? It takes the focus away from us.

In our pain, we want to be the centre of attention. We want people to look upon us and have sympathy and words of encouragement to comfort us in our time of sorrow. We want our time in the limelight. But as God (and strangely my sister) so likes to remind us... it’s not about me.

I’m not here for me. I’m not even here for you (although I may be here because of you!). I’m here for Him. He sent me here. He wants me here. This hurts like fire, but isn’t that what makes it so special? Gold cannot be refined without fire. Diamonds cannot be formed without intense pressure.

God, I can’t take it anymore. The fire is too much for ME so take this burden from ME. Help ME lift it from my shoulders because I no longer can carry it. I need You and You alone to carry it... and I need to once again learn what that feels like to not carry it myself and depend wholeheartedly on you. There are times now, and times in the future when people will intentionally or unintentionally harm me, and I need to know You in those desperate times. So be here. Fill me. Take me. Destroy ME because I don’t want to exist anymore.

I want to look at You, be with You.

I will ever sing praises to your name. I will fulfill my vows day after day. Take it all.

Called, Sealed... and it Hurts

2007-03-26T23:21:00.000-06:00

I find myself in a precarious precipice. I know where God has called me to be. I know where He wants me at this point in time. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to do it any longer. It hurts; hurts more than I ever knew I could. I feel empty emotionally. I feel hurt spiritually. I feel like David.

Psalm 13:1-6 For the director of music. A psalm of David.

How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?

How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall. B
ut I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me.

Why Lord? Why have you put me here? Why must I endure these lashes? Why cannot I yield just once and surrender to the whims of my heart? Why cannot I just walk away and leave the work to someone else at some other time? Why must my heart cry out for relief and my soul ask it for just a little more time? Why do I feel so lonely and distant from those around me? When will you show me your glory in the midst of this mire? I want to be free of these burdens.

But I know, even while I hurt. While I cry out for relief that you are here with me. I know that you love me. I don’t always feel it, but I know it is true. I just wish it didn’t hurt anymore. So let this be my song. Let the nations know that this is my heart, even when I cry out in pain.

This is my desire to honour you
Lord with all my heart, I worship You
All I have within me, I give You praise
All that I adore is in You

Every breathe that I take
Every moment I’m awake
Lord have You’re way in me

Lord I give you my heart I give you my soul, I live for You alone
Every breathe that I take
Every moment I’m awake
Lord, have Your way in me
Lord... have your way in me.

To Be Remembered

2007-03-25T23:12:00.000-06:00

Whether we realize it or not, the one thing that every human being shares in common is that we want to be remembered. You look at the universal fear of death, and the few cultures where it is absent, and the main difference is how they choose to look at death. For the general populous, it is the end, your life is over, and the best you can do is to be remembered by family and loved ones. But for those few, those very few, death is a glorious thing, something to be honoured and respected.

I again preached my message on joy tonight in Lami. Something struck me about one of the quotes I use in there differently than it has before, however. It is a quote referring to how we choose to live our life. Would we rather be a used, beaten piece of metal that has seen plenty of use, or would we be thrown away brand new, wondering why the world doesn’t bend itself to make us happy. These questions, I think, are valid and should be explored by every human.

Ultimately, it raises the question that is a little closer to home. As Christians, are we doing the best we possibly can to fight for what we believe in? Just like the question I posed to the youth on Saturday night, are we a nation of warriors, or a corporate headquarters? Which do we function as, and what would we like to function as? My answer? We need to start training as warriors, and breeding warriors in turn. People who fight mightily for the cause that we follow.

Ephesians 6:12-13 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armour of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.

To follow that means to be remembered.

Shine Bright

2007-03-24T22:56:00.000-06:00

I’m going to be in Suva for the weekend, preaching at the Lami church. We were expecting to have a youth event in Nadi last night, so I waited to head down till this morning. The drive from Nadi to Suva is quite a beautiful one, because it takes you right down the coral coast. This is the location of the longest wave in the world.

The shining part of the day was not the stunning visuals, it was the Senior Youth event. Lami has quite a large youth group in the church, which can be credited to the elder of the church, Tepau. Last night they added the AGC youth group to that as well, and we had over 30 people. There was laughter, singing and lots of good times to be had. There are things that Canadian youth have to teach Fiji youth, but there are parts of me that wonder if Fiji youth couldn’t teach teens back home even more. They are free, to worship, to laugh, and to be themselves. They throw off the constraints of what other people think to be their own person. It’s amazing to see.

Because of Fiji culture, many of the youth here will seek to be polite before they will seek to be correct. They would rather be polite to you than point out what is wrong. Jesus, of course, was not this way at all. A huge stumbling block for people that only want to have other people think well of them, and not offend anyone. So that’s what we talked about last night. I put the question in front of them, would you rather be liked by people or right in God’s eyes? Not an easy question, for them or for me.

The end of it all, of course, is how bright are you shining? What kind of a difference are you making? If you were to leave unannounced, would anyone notice? Would anyone care? Ask yourself those questions... they are very enlightening. Are you shining bright?

Oddities

2007-03-23T23:31:00.000-06:00

Deep within us lies something we never knew was there. Something that hides deep within the crevasses, hoping that it won’t be noticed, hiding from any hint of light to break the dark. Even when we see it, we barely notice it, because the truth is that it is a part of us. That little something influences who we are. It’s our culture.

If you haven’t had the chance to get out of your culture (wherever or whatever that may be) I suggest you give it a spin, it’s an enlightening experience. Everything that you’ve ever taken for granted is suddenly put into question, from the way you say things, to what words you use to associate with particular objects. Not a single thing is sacred.

Nowhere does this become more true than when you’re dealing with church. I was supposed to run the youth tonight, but there was rain earlier in the day. Back home, this means we adjust our plans a little bit and make sure we’re inside. Here, it means the event is cancelled. Truly, there is very little that I understand about the way people are. The way that I might do things is no longer relevant, and the way that I look at the church would take years to sink in and make a difference. I’m only here for three months.

Being in another culture has so much to teach you. And despite what anyone might tell you, you have much to offer them. Don’t ever think that you have the one, true way to get something done. And don’t ever let someone tell you that your opinion is not valid... it simply isn’t true. I have been taught more about faith from children and curious youth than I have by scholars. Never stop asking those questions, never stop striving for more.

We all have our oddities. We all have our imperfections. This is what makes us human. This is what shows our need for Christ. This is both our greatest strength when we are together, and our greatest weakness when we relegate ourselves to solitary confinement. Let other people influence you, and in turn, influence other people. If you’re all seeking God, you’ll find a very cool median in there.

We are so odd....

Milk! (and other miscellaneous things)

2007-03-22T23:13:00.000-06:00

I’ve had a serious craving for good old fashioned, doesn’t taste like it’s been through a fire milk since I got here. When they ship milk to Fiji, it’s put through a process where they super heat it to some ridiculous temperature, put into a carton, and then it’s good for months without refrigeration. It’s mind boggling to me, because milk is only supposed to last for two weeks. If you haven’t drank it by then, there is something wrong with you. There is one side effect, however. It tastes nasty.

Imagine this with me. You’ve come home after a hard day of work. Your muscles (that includes your brain, thank you!) are tired. Your body is weary; and you have a hankering for milk. You know what it feels like. That smooth milk will flow down your throat and replenish everything that is lacking in your life. You pour the glass, waiting with baited breathe for your craving to be fulfilled. You lift the glass to your mouth, and take in a mouthful.

And then you gag.

WHO BURNT THE MILK! It tastes like it’s been put through an old pot! This stuff is NASTY.

Thus my experience with milk in Fiji until now. I found some pasteurized milk here. Catch is, it lasts three days. The bonus round, however, will tell you it’s only a litre of milk. That’s child’s play for me, just ask Marilyn, I usually drink 4 litres of milk in a week. YES! MILK! I am victorious!

Despite my pleas to God, there was no heavy rain last night, so I was dragged out of bed this morning at 4:50 AM. However, our Lord did have mercy on me and gave me a peaceful rest and I was surprisingly awake after I got over a bad case of the yawns. I figure it’s because my body was in rebellion for me even CONSIDERING getting it out of bed that early. Now that I think about it, my brain was complaining too.

I finally got to talk to Jordan for awhile today. We’ve been missing each other for almost a week. And my heart goes out to her. Being in a place where you don’t natively speak the language (although she is much more graceful with Spanish than I ever will be), and where you are only viewed as a temporary is never an easy thing. I’d be lonely too if I had to rough it out for 8 months with no real friends and surrounded by 26 orphans nearly 24 hours a day. I love kids, but I can only take so much before I need to hand them back to their parents and say my goodbyes. Just remember Jordan… 50 days to go! You’re almost there!

Adventures of the Tourist Kind

2007-03-21T20:10:00.000-06:00

What a great day. Certainly unique so far in my time here in Fiji. It is the first time I've been on a touristy thing since I got here. I got onto the boat, and I've never seen so many white people congregated in one place before!

And it is amazing how in these times, God will lead you to the right people. I got onto the boat in Denarau island, and sat down to a guy named Scott. He's an entrepreneur from America who's here for a motivational conference. About 10 minutes into the boatride (check the album) we got into a conversation about God. I'm learning from my time here that in order to have those kinds of conversations, you just have to be very blunt and very unashamed of what you believe in.

The day at Beachcomber was spent ... well, relaxing and talking with people. It's a bit of a backpackers resort, and while it is nice, the mean age of people there must about been 24. So I got to know people! I went snorkelling, and saw some really incredible fish. Neon blue starfish, yellow, green and white large fish and some that are the 'changing colour depending what angle you look at me' fish. It was gorgeous. I wish I had a camera that I could take pictures under water with me!

In the afternoon, I went out on a boat trip to see some of the coral farther out and the fish that were in them. Beautiful. The best part of that little jaunt, however was the feeding. They took bread and threw it in the water. Think piranha's but not the type that eat you. Hilarious as 50 some fish converge on a single piece of bread, and then one giant one scatters them all.

God created a wonderful and beautiful earth. I am priviledge to be able to see one part of it I never thought I would. From the coral fish to the beautiful warm ocean, there is so much diversity.

The most beautiful part of it all, however, and I'm biased in this, were the people. Not in the outward way, but in the inward. The Fijians were living up to what I would expect of them, being hilariously funny and overly friendly, both to the tourists and to each other. It's fascinating to watch. And the people, as I got to know them showed me how diverse this world is. People from America, Germany, England, etc. all coming together and being friends.

This wold definitely needed a saviour... and now we need to share it with them! Both in our actions, and in our words. Digging deep into people's lives and showing them how much God loves them!

Those Smiles

2007-03-20T22:47:00.000-06:00

Isn’t it funny that in the midst of everything that goes on, God always finds ways to make you smile. Perhaps it is a conversation that came out of something foolish, or people that find you at just the right time, to encourage you. I started my morning out in the most unlikely way.

The Cairns were in the back of the BDC, which is where I normally take a shower. No biggy, except that the washroom was in use! So I needed to wait until it cleared out before I could go in and have my shower. Jackson was in his office, and so I sat down and we ended up having a great conversation. Talking about ministry, the joys and the frustrations, what we were both learning and some of the observations we had both made over the past few weeks. Truly, this is a man that God is doing great things in. I am excited to see what Nadi church will look like in a few years under his guidance. In every single way, he impresses.

Later in the day, I had the opportunity to go into Lautoka with Sebastien and Mimi. We had about an hour to kill before the movie started, so we walked around the town for awhile looking for shops. Just walking in and out of some of them. Well, Sebastien walked into one that I probably never would have gone into myself (just one of those junk shops) and inside I found a wooden flute. Nothing spectacular, but special all on its own! The guy just wanted to get rid of it, so I bought it for real cheap.

These are the times when you can look back and just smile. God has a way in bringing about these moments from the most unlikely circumstances. That is exciting!

Hanging In There

2007-03-19T23:11:00.000-06:00

Everything is for a purpose. This is what so many different people keep telling me. Everything has its place, and God is working through the situation. Isn’t it funny how those words are so anecdotal when you are in the midst of that situation? Perfectly relevant when you are outside, but meaningless when you’re the one who’s taking the beating. This is what it must feel like to be in the 14th round as a boxer.

You go back to the ropes at the end of a hard fought battle. Three minutes separate you from it all being over. Your legs feel like concrete, your arms like jelly. You can barely see straight because of the blood running down your brow. Your lips are swollen and your body bruised. Some coach squirts water on your face and into your mouth while a doctor applies a strip to your new cut to stop the bleeding. “Hang in there,” they tell you. “It’s almost over,” they say. “You’re doing well, just watch out for the left jab, and keep your feet moving!” As if you weren’t trying to do all those things already. You’re unsure that you’ll even be able to stand up when the bell rings, but it sounds so easy when you’re not the one facing the barrage of punches.

This is not to say any of that advice is not entirely true. It’s just advice that is meant for hindsight, not present times. That boxer knows that he’s going to get paid. I know this is all for the purpose, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get in there for another round. My spirit still yearns for thirty seconds more. My heart wonders if it will be able to get up from the stool. My brain asks what the purpose really is if it isn’t readily available. My soul... my soul says hang in there.

I’ve been here before. I’ll be here again. Never before in quite this way. Never again. But I’ve been here. So have you. That last kilometre before the finish line. Each step drags over the pavement as the sun beats down on your from above, daring you to surrender to its heat. “Forget about the 30 kilometres you’ve run so far, you’ll never make that last one,” it scoffs. Be still, my soul. Be quiet, you scoffer. And you put your head down, pump your arms a little faster and pick up the pace. Each metre a war, each step a battle. But when you cross the finish line, you lift your hands in triumph, your body relieved it can rest.

1 Corinthians 9:23-27
I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.

Influences and Experiences

2007-03-18T23:30:00.000-06:00

Wow, it was a day of awesome experiences and new learning opportunities. The morning was of course started out with preaching in Lautoka. That, as I’m sure you have gauged is always a pleasant experience and this morning was no different. The environment was free and welcoming. The people friendly, and the service was conducted with an open spirit.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the service for me, however was not necessarily the spirit but the different components of me. There was a part of the service where people were welcomed to freely come to the front and share what God did in their life this past week. There was one lady there who specifically referenced my sermon on Joy from the previous week, which was a very humbling experience to know that your words were not only heard, but applied. A huge responsibility there!

During the afternoon, Jong invited me to a rehabilitation centre in Nadi. They take in young men over 18 who are drunk, addicted to narcotics, etc. Every Sunday afternoon they have a ‘coffee church’ where it is fairly informal, they have a band to play and a sermon. We were the only two non-Fijians in the room, which is always an interesting experience. But again, the spirit was open and willing and the theology was correct. It was neat to see Fijians doing church... their way. Lots of movement, lots of activity. Not unlike some church plants you get back home, either.

Who knows, I may be stopping in there a little more often to see what kind of ministry they do on a day-by-day basis. We’ll keep exploring opportunities as God reveals them to me slowly. And if I truly am willing, then I need to be willing to go where He sends me and take those opportunities He gives me. The next month and a half will hold some very interesting events, no doubt!

Culture Shock

2007-03-18T20:59:00.000-06:00

Yup, I think I've hit it full on. That wonderful moment in time when you become disillusioned with a culture and you just want to go back home. Maybe it's the fact that I've been here two months. Maybe it's that I miss a lot of things from home. Maybe it's that I'm not here with a group or anyone who really understands many of the things I'm missing from back home.

The reality of the situation, however tells me that this is something to be expected. I should not be surprised in many different levels. From the culture shock, to the loneliness, because the enemy that we fight is not a stupid or naive one. He is cunning and dangerous, and will attack us in the places that it hurts most.

With this in mind, the message that I must once again push forward. Beyond the hurdles, beyond my own limitations, beyond what I would think reasonably possible into the outer limits. Places I have never been before, uncharted waters. I go because that is where I have been asked to go, destined to go. And so, I will lay aside my own pain in an effort to go where God wants me to go.

I only pray that He will give me the energy to stay the course.

Just One of Those Days

2007-03-17T23:59:00.000-06:00

I’m preaching tomorrow morning, so I want to get to bed asap! We had a camp meeting this morning where we worked out all of the details of how the camp at the end of April will work. Makes me long for camp back home, when planning it was almost as much fun as HAVING the camp! There was laughter, crazy ideas, and even crazier games that came to fruition in those hours, and many good friends were formed because of it!

The rest of the day was spent relaxing. It was nice... nothing in particular to focus on, I could just relax and play some games and read. Things I’ve been wanting to do for awhile, but was either attempting to work things out, busy travelling somewhere or worrying or praying about something else. Just let my mind relax and enjoy itself.

Makes me wonder... this past week has been a dynamo of activity, and it makes me wonder what this next one will bring. That is not in my hands, and I’m thankful for that.

Use me God... I’m willing.

Twists of Life

2007-03-16T22:24:00.000-06:00

You are my strength when I am weak
You are the treasure that I seek
You are my All in All

Seeking You as a precious jewel
Lord, to give up I’d be a fool
You are my All in All

Taking my sin, my cross, my shame
rising again, I bless Your name
You are my All in All

When I fall down, you pick me up
When I am dry, you fill my cup
You are my All in All

Jesus, Lamb of God
Worthy is your name

Sometimes, the best days start off in the worst ways. I opened my eyes, and I immediately got the impression that I just shouldn’t get out of bed. We’ve all had those days; you pry your eyes open only to have your body beg you not to get out quite yet. In my case, that was followed closely by a chaser of a cold shower. Not the most enticing mix.

Normally on a Friday morning, I go to the Airport School to teach Scripture in school. One of those few days that I really look forward to in a week, because you have smiling faces and eager hearts. What more could you ask for? This morning, however had a twist to it. We normally leave about 5 or 10 after 9 to get there in time to teach the first class. I started getting ready about 5 after, and was packing my stuff up when I remembered I forgot to brush my teeth. Nothing worse than smelly breath for an entire day. So I quickly brushed my teeth. Josefa, the man who also lives in the BDC, must have been having an impatient day, because when I came out of the BDC (at 9:07, I checked) he was rolling out of the BDC at walking pace. So I walked briskly towards the van... no worries. He sped up. Then in the street he yelled out the window, “Run.” Now... if this is a friend, it’s a laugh, because it’s done in good spirit. This wasn’t one of those moments. Jackson was sitting in the back of the van looking at me, and told me to go back to the BDC and shut the door, which I’d forgotten to do. Josefa drove off. It is worth noting though that this evening when I came home, we had a good conversation about it, and he apologized, and now I'd like to think our friendship is stronger because of it.

So I walked! It was about 45 minutes to an hour to the school up and down hills and in some very hot sun. But God and I had a lengthy chat, so can I really complain about that? When I got to the airport school, I was hot, sweaty, smelly and a little more than angry. Jackson and I talked for a bit, and when I explained to Josefa that what happened was unacceptable, and that I was in no condition to be teaching now, he told me to have the day off. So Jackson took my classes, and I moved on.

Interesting story in itself, but the rest of the day was filled with different twists. While I was waiting for a bus, I got talking with a lady there. She was a believer (meaning she believes she’s a sinner and Jesus died on the cross for her sins, I didn’t probe much deeper) and was going to pray. Apparently her church has been praying 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for the past 7 years. That’s an impressive feat no matter who you are!

In the evening I went to the Lautoka church again for their youth program. Have I said how much I love this church? They are free, they are ... well, a church. The kids were fun, and that in turn allowed me to have fun talking with them. We talked about being counter-culture (see yesterday’s post!), which is challenging for them, and challenging for me.

And then the ride home on a mini-bus. All the buses had stopped about an hour or two before, so the only way you can get a ride to Nadi from one of the other towns is via mini bus. A few twists on this trip... I was sitting next to a ... feminine male.

There are quite a few of them in Fiji, just a litmus test of the state of the culture itself. And the last twist is that when it came to my stop, I asked for him to stop in English, and he didn’t hear me. But when I made the sound all the locals makes (“Sssss”) he stopped immediately. I think I’m getting the hang of it! 

Counter Culture

2007-03-15T22:44:00.000-06:00

I had to prepare myself for this one, because it may be one of the biggest shifts I have to take as an individual and it may be one of the biggest ones we have to make as a community. We are called to be counter-culture. This is not the culture that you are thinking. It is not North American, European, African or Fijian. It is counter-church culture.

No matter where you go, we are called to be salt and light. Dare I say it; there is no place like home that needs it the most. We have created a ‘nice’ place. ‘Nice’ people, ‘Nice’ environments, ‘Nice’ worship. But that is not what God called us to. Let’s look a little bit deeper.

Matthew 8:18-23 says this, “When Jesus saw the crowd around him, he gave orders to cross to the other side of the lake. Then a teacher of the law came to him and said, "Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go." Jesus replied, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." Another disciple said to him, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." But Jesus told him, "Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead." Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him.”

That is not the statement of a ‘nice’ man. That is the cut flesh from bone words of our saviour. Let the dead bury their own dead. That was their father he was talking about! What if your pastor told you that today? You’d probably phone the denomination and tell them he MUST be fired. I am learning that this cancer is not limited to just North America... but it is spreading through the world. We have carried our bad habits with us to the far reaches of the earth.

We must be FIERCE warriors, willing to confront sin and wrong in our lives and in the lives around us. We must pick up our spiritual armour and prepare ourselves to march into battle. The enemy is waiting, but are we ready? My thoughts? No... not yet. But our time will come. The Holy Spirit is calling His saints together once more, to strike back at the enemy and push them deep into their territory. It is time we march boldly to the very gates of Hades and stand with the power of God once more to say enough, you will not take any more. You will not have any more souls, because by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, we oppose you and we WILL strike you back.

A worldwide effort that is very counter- Church culture.

Where to From Here

2007-03-14T18:21:00.000-06:00

Here's a question for you. When you're completely unsure about what step to take next, what step do you take? The answer, as life and it's many situations have taught me is that you go absolutely nowhere. You stop, you pray. And then you wait.

It's one of the hardest things you will ever have to do. It's like trying to stay still when you can see someone about to be hurt. But if you rush in too quickly, you'll end up not helping, but only making the situation worse. And so you wait till that still, small voice says, "Now."

This is where I find myself. I'm not leaving Fiji for now, and so I look forward to the coming weeks with anticipation. Not of what I'm going to do, but rather what God is going to do. I'm just as unsure and confused as I was yesterday, but I don't matter in this situation. A soldier on the battlefield doesn't need to know why he's been placed within enemy lines, only that he has a very important mission. His job is to wait for orders, and then complete them.

So God, I'm waiting for my orders!

Behind enemy lines, threatened on every side... yet strangely safe. Unsure about where I'm supposed to go next, or why I'm being kept here for longer... but at peace with that decision. Staring into a dark, unknown room... but knowing that I'm here for a purpose.

So... where to from here?

Encouragements

2007-03-14T17:14:00.000-06:00

When you walk through a valley, you learn to look for the small things. Little roadsigns that point you in the right direction, that tell you that someone, or Someone is watching over you. It must be a lot like tracking someone, paying attention to the smallest detail in the grass to point you in the right direction, a broken twig, or leaves bent in just such a way.

Or maybe it's a flower. When it's storming all around you, and the sun hasn't come out in days, when you see that flower it is as though the clouds part and sunlight bursts forth from the skies, daring the clouds to try to stop it. Makes you feel like the angels have dove through the dark atmosphere to show you once more that someone sees you in that valley, and hope is coming.

Daniel had to wait three weeks to get his answer from God. Because there was spiritual battles raging all around him. But God was watching over him that entire time.

I have family, friends, and countless numbers of people praying for me while I am here. So I wonder what it would look like if God were to open my eyes up into the spiritual realm. I have a strange sense that there are many warriors gathering for something that is yet to come. Exciting and terrifying at the same time, to know that God is preparing to break down something that has stood for too long.

Once again the mission has reaffirmed my being here in Fiji. I have to be honest and say that i don't always feel that I'm still called to be here. But God has confirmed it once more. My time here is not yet done. And another comfort in the midst of it all. I am not alone, others recognize the same things I am, and for that... I am thankful.

God is good. Last night I was reading through my devotions, and I covered 1 Peter 4. If you have the time, pull out your Bible and read through it. It's funny how God leads us directly to the passage of scripture that we need in our time of need. Be steadfast! Know that I am God, and be proud that you suffer because of me. An encouragement in the midst of everything that is going on.

God is good. He watched over His children and continues to speak to them today!

Keep it Simple

2007-03-13T22:44:00.000-06:00

I’m in the process of preparing for the weekend. There is Young Adults Thursday night, youth in Lautoka on Friday and church Sunday morning in Lautoka again. The funny thing is, the preparation work is really not in-depth. Those of you from Three Hills may remember my ‘passionate believer’ series from October, and the content fits perfectly with the needs of the people here (not to mention my own). Joy, Peace, Patience, Love... these are staples of the Christian life. Deep like an ocean, but enough for anyone to wade into.

So much of my preparation is already done, because the exegesis and research I did for those sermons applies directly to the ones that I am writing here. It’s a blessing and a frustration! What I wouldn’t do to be busy for the entire day again. Who’d ever suspect I’d say something like that! I remember the days when the River was still getting up onto its legs, and the administration of it consumed much of my week, and I wish those days were still here. I was given a task, and turned loose on it... something I enjoy more than I can really put into words.

I’m sure Kevin learned that through our 16 months of working together. I don’t respond well if you are too ambiguous in the direction that you give me. I don’t do well if you just turn me loose to do whatever suits my desires. But if you show me an area of need, or give me the power to identify and brainstorm solutions, then I will shine through. It focuses my efforts into a very dedicated channel towards a tangible result. I love that.

The end result of all of this? Keep it simple. I’m aiming to keep my sermons as simple as possible, yet with a hidden depth for those who are seeking more. This makes the information contained therein freely available to all, yet with a component that asks you to reach for it to get all of it. My hope is that God will bless the effort so that it is effective. Keep your tasks simple. This is what we need, can you fix it? Can you make it better? Can you offer some of your experience?

Simple. Plain. Jesus died on the cross for our sins, can you accept that you’re a sinner? Simple.

Enough

2007-03-12T23:19:00.000-06:00

Perhaps you read that title, and you wonder what is about to come out of thoughts. Perhaps it will be words of malice, or of frustration. Maybe it will only serve to further build my case and indisputably prove to you about how bad off I have it. Boy, have I got you fooled.

All of you, is more than enough for
All of me, for every thirsty and every need
You satisfy me, with Your love
And all I have in You, is more than enough

You are my supply, my breathe of life;
Still more awesome than I know....
You are my reward, worth living for;
Still more awesome than I know!

Cause all of you, is more than enough for
All of me, for every thirst and every need.
You satisfy me, with your love
And all I have in You, is more than enough.

You’re my sacrifice of greatest price;
Still more awesome than I know!
You’re my coming king, You’re everything;
Still more awesome than I know!

All of you, is more than enough for
All of me, for every thirsty and every need.
You satisfy me, with your love,
And all I have in You, is more than enough.

You’re enough... You’re enough, You’re enough for me.

Enough. The honest truth is that I am resigned to only one thing, and that’s God’s will. And part of learning to follow after that will is learning to have peace with whatever decision He comes to... or the time He leaves you to wait for that answer. I will trust that no matter how long He makes me wait, He will continue to use me in very specific, special kinds of ways.

So I resign myself the knowledge that I am exactly where God wants me to be, doing what He wants me to do, because I am seeking that out diligently. I will have those conversations that God brings my way, I will throw myself into whatever task He leaves me without hesitation. I will give it my all, because this energy does not come from me... but from Him.

A good example of one of these conversations happened last night. After the service, I managed to catch a bus down to the Tanoa (an adventure all on its own, let me tell you!) because they have a buffet with roast beef, lamb and pork. And since I know the manager (wink wink) I get a discounted (read: reasonable) price for it all.

Many of the pilots were there as well, having arrived quite a bit earlier than I. So I joined them mid-meal. Now, you have to understand something about this particular group of people. Reformed Christians they are not, nor would I expect them to be. But they most definitely are strong personalities, and good times are to be usually had. Just watch out for the occasional detour into the gutters, as the conversation has a tendency to steer its way there.

If these people are never going to darken the doors of a church... my first question is why. The second is how come we aren’t going to them? What would a church look like that would actually meet these people where they are at? You know the type. Alcohol is readily consumed. Sex is something to be enjoyed freely. And as long as you can forget about your misery, everything is dandy. To me, that screams Jesus. To them, Jesus is a curse word.

Opportunities, and the reminder that God is more than enough.

Hold the Moment

2007-03-11T22:16:00.000-06:00

The problem about decisions is that they are never easy. Sometimes they aren’t even up to you. Or maybe the problem is with me. No matter how high that pile of ‘cons’ stacks, almost to the point of being immeasurable... there is at least one piece in the ‘pros.’ The glass is always half full when you look at it that way, because any loss is an unacceptable loss. But at what point do you call it a day, cut your losses and head for home.

These are the things that I ponder right now. There are many moments that make me cringe and wish I never had to experience them. But in the sea of experiences, there are a few fish that float on bye that leave me in awe. Literally. The ones that seem to make it all worthwhile, and make you want to hang around for just a little bit longer to see if any more are coming your way.

This morning I preached in the Lautoka church. Once again, walking through the doors of the church was like a breath of fresh air. Where the Spirit of the Lord is... freedom reigns. If only I was able to spend my time at a church and focus my efforts on one particular place to make a tangible, real difference in the lives of the people.

I preached on Joy. The Joy of the Lord that permeates every single situation, no matter how hard, how dismal or how hopeless it may seem. Why? Because our hope does not depend on us... it depends on God. He never changes. He was the same yesterday as He is today, and He’ll be the same tomorrow. Hence, our Joy should be equally as sure and steady. We can smile in the midst of excruciating pain, because Jesus lives... and we have that rock to hold onto.

Afterwards, the elders and their wives made lunch for me, and we enjoyed each others presence. It makes me wonder how anyone could not like the friendly, open nature of these people. Sure, they have their quirks, but don’t we all? Each culture has its good and bad. Somehow, even though I’ve only been at the church twice now, they make me feel like I’m at home. We laughed, we talked, and we enjoyed each others presence. It’s also the first time while I’ve been here in Fiji I’ve been referred to as Pastor.

That’s a huge deal. A lot of respect is given to someone with that title, and you better not be screwing it up, because it means they are expecting great things out of you too. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. They call you pastor, you better act like one.

If only I could take a camera and freeze that moment, remember what it felt like, remember what a difference it made. Those are the moments you want to hold onto for the rest of your life, because they matter.

But are these few scattered moments enough? Is that really why I came here? No... sadly it is not. It is a glimpse of why, in as much a glass of water represents the ocean. I came to learn what it meant to pastor here in Fiji, to experience the culture and learn about it, and to see if I would fit in here. Sadly, I am not being allowed to pastor, the experiences I have with the culture are limited, and I know I definitely don’t fit in here. But that last one is not with the Fijians.

If only I could hold that moment.

The Eye of the Storm

2007-03-10T23:12:00.000-07:00

There comes a time in all of our lives when you have to wait. It’s the last possible thing you want to do, but it also is out of necessity. In the midst of the storm of life that rages on around us, as the lightning of situations crash into the ground, ripping apart the path we thought we were going to take we have to learn to wait for the thunder to fade and get our bearings once more. We’re disorientated, lost, blind and deaf. And so you sit with both hands on the ground and wait for your bearings to come back to you. Then, and only then, can you stand up, survey your surroundings, and make an informed decision about how best to carry on to that distant city.

People are watching. They see you from behind and in front of you. Some of them have been there, and some only know that it is coming, but they are all curious. We deal with these situations differently, each of choosing our own solution to the problem. Advice is needed, but the decision is yours and yours alone. You are the one who takes the broken bones and the bruised muscles and carry them with you until they heal. Responsibility is yours.

And so I wait. I wait for this disorientation to clear. I wait for God to reveal to me what path He has left for me to take. I wait for His will to be known to me and those around me clearly once more. Here I wait, not wanting to make a hasty decision... in the eye of the storm.

Whatever decision I choose to make, there will be rain and lightning to walk through yet. It’s not a storm that has passed, but I’m right in the middle of it. There are gems, like the youth, the young adults, the children, and the opportunities I do have to preach. And there is the wind and the rain. So many different options, but it boils down to two simple choices: stay or go.

So I’ll wait; holding onto the Rock, praying that He will reveal Himself to me in the small gentle whisper. My desire is only to follow. Here in the eye of the storm.

The End of my Rope

2007-03-09T22:59:00.000-07:00

Pray.
The last few days have been extremely wearing on me. Emotionally. Spiritually. I’m done. I’m at the end of my rope. I’ve tried every avenue, and they have all come up short. I can’t do it any longer. I’m no longer sufficient.

When it rains or it shines on this pillow of mine
I will lift up my head to the sky
So i have chance to see
Where my hope has come from
Know there's nothing that i can't abide

When Nothing Satisfies you
When nothing satisfies you
When nothing satisfies you
Hold my hand

Send forth Your Light Lord,
and send forth Your Truth
Let them guide me to Your Holy Place
Then will i go to the Altar of God
to my Joy, my Delight and my Strength

When Nothing Satisfies you
When nothing satisfies you
When nothing satisfies you
Hold my hand

Why are you so downcast o my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God
My Savior, my King
My Savior, my King

When Nothing Satisfies you
When nothing satisfies you
When nothing satisfies you
Hold my hand

Or maybe… it’s like this.

I've exhausted every possible solution,
I've tried every last game there is to play.
In this search for the Christ like perfection
I'm convinced I've only left my God ashamed.
I cry I wonder can he hear my despair.
Afraid to lift my hands afraid he doesn't care.

And if he answers and I fall again
can I still be his daughter can I still depend on him.
When I'm down search every mistake, looking for new regrets.
sometimes I forget, I forget that his grace is sufficient for me.
that it's deeper and wider than I can conceive.

His Grace is sufficient for me.
My convictions seem to fade with desperation,
my hope declines with each and every tear.
My sin an anchor and this grace just an illusion.

The gavels heavy and justice is near.
Up comes the light and finds the stains on my hands.
Up comes my pride, I hide, I know he won't understand.
Cause it's deeper than deep and it's wider then wide.
why did I ever doubt now I'm dying inside.

However you relate to the situation that I’m in... I’m truly feeling done. I no longer want to carry on. I want to retreat, I want a rest. I can’t hold my hands up any longer; the load is too heavy for me. I want to go home, to stop fighting for respect, to stop fighting people that should have known better long ago. People who DO know better than their actions show.

I miss the times when I was given the luxury of respect from those around me. When my opinion was taken as an opinion, not as my age. When the words that God spoke through me were not filtered or taken at less of an importance level because I am not 40 with a family. I want a fighting chance to prove that I am worth something. I want to be valued. I want to feel like I COULD be useful.

Jesus was 30 when he started his ministry. He was 12 when he taught in the temple courts. I’m not Jesus. But I wish I had his sense of direction.

And so I pray. Pray that God would guide my steps and those I’ve asked for advice. Do I stay the course or do we fan the sails and head for home? God, give me wisdom.

When God Sends an Angel

2007-03-08T21:52:00.000-07:00

It POURED last night. It was an incredible storm, and it went super late into the morning, with lightning, thunder and a torrent of rain. This has two beneficial effects. The first is that I get to enjoy a divine rain storm throughout the night – something ALWAYS worth sacrificing sleep for. The second is that the weekly trip out to camp is cancelled.

Now, that second part doesn’t seem quite so sweet when you consider that I was going to get dropped off at the Outrigger later in the morning to visit Travis and Mel Stevens, two friends from Canada who are passing through. I know Mel from Karate back in Three Hills, and they had brought some stuff for me. This left me to find my own way down to the South Western part of the Island.

Now, there is nothing quite like an adventure when you are all by yourself. No one else to blame for your mistakes when it is Me, Myself and I. I caught a return taxi into Nadi at 1, and walked the rest of the way to the bus stand. From there, I caught a Viti MiniBus to Suva, where I could get off at the Outrigger. The exciting thing about transportation here is that unless you are willing to pay a pretty penny (sometimes up to 20 times more) for your own solo ride, you get to wait ‘till the bus fills up. So after about 45 minutes of waiting, it can take upwards of 2 hours sometimes, we were on the way!

I arrived at the Outrigger around 3:30 PM and tracked down my two friends. Nice to talk to people who are a breath of fresh air from home: it reminds you of all the good things you miss, and something common to talk about. So we talked, ate and simply talked until about 6 PM, when I went back to the front desk at the Outrigger to catch the Coral Sun bus.

One thing you should always remember when you go to a ‘tourist’ country. If you’re a tourist, everything is going to cost at least double what it should. My ride down to the Outrigger cost me 10 dollars. They were telling me it was going to be 17 to catch the bus back. No biggy, it is air conditioned. One problem though, it wasn’t there. Turns out the lady that told me the time of the bus arrival was completely out to lunch, and I missed the bus.

Here’s where it gets comical. To catch a taxi into Sigatoka (5 minutes drive away) they wanted 10 dollars. I laughed at the lady who told me that, and asked her if tourists actually pay that (they do!). Then I preceded to walk out to the side of the road, and catch a minivan into Sigatoka (70 cents). While on the side of the road, I wasn’t feeling entirely confident in myself, although I knew what I wanted to do, I wasn’t entirely sure on WHERE everything was that I needed to catch.

So God sent an angel.

One of the ladies that was standing beside the road waiting for a bus/van took me directly to the minivan stand and made sure I got onto a van coming back to Nadi. Surprisingly enough, there was a van stopped at the stand with room for one (1) person. When they come through Sigatoka, they stop at a refreshment stand for about 15 minutes and then continue to drive on... and it was getting late (thus why I was a little unsure), and it just so happens that there was a van waiting with one last space for me to get on. You can’t tell me that doesn’t make you smile.

Total cost on my return: $6.70
Total tourist cost: $17

Seeing friends from back home in the middle of your time in a foreign country. An unknown lady that made sure I got onto the right van when I wasn’t quite sure about things because it was late and getting quite dark in a unknown town. Back home, safe and sound, dropped right beside my own road, for nearly a third of the cost. That’s sweet. God’s great!

You’re as Busy as You Want to Be

2007-03-07T21:50:00.000-07:00

One of my friends recently told me these words. They are challenging in their own right, and to some degree hold validity to my current situation. I find myself frustrated because I came all this way, and I feel as though I am only here to cut grass and show up to youth events. Most of my week is free, with little structure to guide my energy. This alone is probably the most frustrating thing of coming all this way. I want to do something; I want to feel of use!

So when I talked to him about this, he shared these words with me. The question then, is how can I get busy? I’ve already committed to focusing the free parts of my days to finishing my school work so that I can graduate. While this is important, it isn’t one of the reasons I came this far. So it is time to take matters into my own hands. Time to stop standing idly by and wait for something to happen, but gamble a bit with my straightforwardness and see what God has in store.

I preach this Sunday in Lautoka, and I will make the proposition to them that I am willing to preach two Sunday Mornings out of the month at their church on top of my current schedule. This would help me focus my efforts, and engage in the culture in a real way. Perhaps it will pay off; perhaps God will close the door. I am willing to accept either avenue, but I would feel cheapened if I didn’t at least try.

Your prayers are felt, and my gratitude is owed. For the many of you who are constantly lifting me up in prayer, I thank you. Please continue to pray that God would guide my footsteps while I am here in Fiji. I want to honour Him with my whole being, in every thought, word and action. I would also ask that you pray for my return back to Canada, as I am unsure about work opportunities at this time.

I want to be busy, so I better put my actions where my mouth is. God, I’m willing. Send me.

I Would Bleed For You

2007-03-06T23:01:00.000-07:00

We go throughout life building, forming and eventually destroying relationships. Some are for good, and some leave horrible damage in their wake. Through my many relationships, I have learned to ask myself one question... would I be willing to bleed for you?

As humans, we have a horrible ability to lie to ourselves, and subsequently to the people around us. We tell ourselves that we love this person, and so we tell that person that we love them, when we never bothered to cement that idea in our own heads. Rather than testing it, proving it, and then sharing it, we skip the R&D sections of the relationship and jump right to production. The irony in it is that we ask ourselves why they fall apart later. Like a building, you need to start with that foundation, not with the penthouse apartment. Sure, the latter may be glamorous, but it won’t stand the test of time. Which is more important? Having that apartment for a few weeks, or waiting a few months for an apartment that will last a life time?

Ministry is kind of like that. Many kids my age (and that is admitting that I am still a kid!), rush into church ministry or missions work without first confronting themselves. Taking that time to do a little bit of navel gazing and working through the demons you’ve invited into your life and the luggage you’ve picked up. It’s not easy; actually, it downright sucks. But it is necessary. This self-exploration cements who you are as a person and allows you then to ask yourself the question, would I bleed for you?

Naturally then, because I like to put on the mask of an expert in so many fields, this leads into the statement that I have been asking myself this question about Fiji. I’ve been here for a month and a half, and I have a decent grasp on the surface issues of ministry in Fiji. But ultimately, none of these questions about methods or programs are important if my heart isn’t in it. The hard truth is that I now know this is not a place that my heart has followed me to.

Let me qualify that statement a little bit, because it drops like a bombshell. I have known, since grade 8 when God called me into ministry that my heart was for my peers. It was for my own generation and the generations that would follow me. My hearts desire is to see them on fire for God, lighting up the country with their passion, their fervour and their relationships. Just thinking about it gets me excited, and I can feel that passion boiling up from within me.

I am also reminded of some of my friends who were clearly called into missions through Bible College. They got that wild-eyed, frothy kind of excitement when you mentioned some remote African village and no running water. They were passionate about these people, and especially about their relationships with God. So the question that comes to my mind is not whether or not I could do ministry, but whether or not I should.

For whom would I be willing to shed my blood? The bitter truth is that it is not here. It is back home, seeing a nation that slides slowly away from God awaken from its winter hibernation and become a mighty force for God once more. That is what raises a battle cry within me, and that is really the only place I see myself in twenty years. It took flying across the world to confirm that, but now I am sure.

Those Conversations

2007-03-05T22:43:00.000-07:00

I was up a little later than normal today, but that didn’t stop it from being productive. One of the hard parts I have found while here in Fiji is that I haven’t been given a structured form of ministry. This makes it especially hard to know how to spend my daily hours to effectively perform ministry. Because I am only here for three months, visitation is not really an option unless I go with someone else.
Unfortunately, I don’t think anyone actively performs visitation here. I am certainly not free to move about and preach at will, as that has been disallowed. So what do you do with your time?

There aren’t any real easy answers to that question. If I were back home, I could plan effective ministry programs. I could prepare sermons. I could get to know the people that are around me to build relationships leading to conversations. Very few of these things are an option while I’m here.

So I read. I read the books that I brought with me, I read the Bible, I read whatever articles I can find while I’m on the internet. I have to structure my time around these things, and it really doesn’t feel like effective use of my time… but I’m learning lots!

Around noon I went into town to get onto the internet. My beloved Grandma is visiting my sister, which means we can get online and talk via webcam. Normally this isn’t an option because she lives in small town Saskatchewan, so it was wonderful to see her. Carys, of course, was enjoying the sound of her own voice and looking infinitely cute! Can’t wait to get back and see my family again!

This afternoon, I went with Sebastien to the Nadi Sports Club. They have Tennis and Squash Courts, a Swimming Pool, Lawn Bowling and a few other activities. We went today for the Squash courts. Ended up spending almost 3 hours, playing for about two thirds of that. It’s a great workout, and fun when you can play games consecutively against someone and actually give them a challenge. I’m still learning, which means I have to make up for my poor play by lots of running, but I’m learning quickly.

The intriguing part came after the games of squash though. We went to the ever native Fijian restaurant, McDonalds, and had a good chat. We talked about the ministry that I am doing here, the responsibilities of it, where Sebastien and Mimi will be going after their time here in Fiji, and about theology. One thing that Bible college is good for is offering you an environment that allows you to produce and challenge your own ideas against other people, the Bible tells us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” This could not be more true! We discussed a variety of topics, from the theology of ministry to assurance of salvation. It was good to have conversations like that once more and see where I am at in my own beliefs.

The Group Events

2007-03-04T19:06:00.000-07:00

Having friends is crucial to the survival of any person. No matter how introverted you are, you need that safety net of people who want to be around you. This lights up especially when you are outside of your normal comfort zone, such as in another country. While I wouldn’t say that I’m particularly close with any one person here in Fiji, it is nice to know that in the end there are people to spend time with.

This evening a group of us got together for dinner and a movie. Most of the expatriates in this country are pilots, and tonight’s group definitely reflected that. Everyone other than Jong, Molly, Meriam and myself are here in the country to fly. They are a good group of people, but you have to keep in mind that none of them are even close to what you might consider ‘religious.’

It’s an enlightening experience to be in an environment where they feel free to be themselves, and it quickly brings forward the problem that most Christians back home have. You cannot truly be a light in the world unless you are in that world. Sure, it’s uncomfortable. Sure, it goes against what you have been told in the past. It means being around people with dirty mouths and lewd conversation. But it also means that you have to decide what you really believe in… because you stand out like a sore thumb.

This, I think, would be beneficial for everyone. You are less myopic in your faith, and you are forced to come to terms with the fact that few people share the same opinion as you. The way you live becomes paramount, because you ARE Jesus to these people.

Reasons

2007-03-03T23:36:00.000-07:00

We do everything for a reason. Every single word, every action that we takes comes from a motive. There are times when we think this motive out in intricate detail, and times when we treat it like an unnecessary detail in the path to glorious world conquest. Whether it is academic or primal, our motives dictate our actions.

Today was a good reminder of my motives, my reasons. I was in the Natambua church in the morning. Jong picked me up right around 9 AM, and we went for Pancakes at a hotel right across from the airport. The pancakes were actually quite spectacular and filling. The church was much the same. The congregation at this church is an educated, with many of them being school teachers, lawyers, etc. And the service reflected that. Everything had its place, and every place had a reason for being there. The sermon did not mince words to insult intelligence, but delved deep into the methodology of the scripture and the undercurrents, then deftly applied it to Fijian culture. I was envious, because the last part of my homiletics is sorely lacking due to inexperience.

Jong and I picked up a pizza for lunch and went to Sebastien and Mimi’s to eat. Then we all went into town to Bulaccino for Gelato ice cream. Expensive, but refreshing. The main difference is that this ice cream is smooth as butter.

In the evening I preached at Nadi for the second time. It was nice to walk through the doors and be welcomed by the local people and be told that my presence was missed. Ken was down at the Lami church and Mary was absent for the service. Things went according to schedule, and God reminded me why I’m here... to learn and experience.

Preaching is one of those things where you never know what is going to come out until the sermon is over and done with. Sure, you spend hours preparing and crafting the message to speak plainly and clearly... but it is the Holy Spirit who takes those words and breathes life through them. Tonight did that for me, at least. I was comfortable preaching, and it was nice to share naturally from my own life and the experiences without feeling as though I had to prove anything.

And that... the ability to share what God has laid on my heart... is why I must always carry on. That is my reason.

Silence Can Be A Good Thing

2007-03-03T18:03:00.000-07:00

Saturday. A good day to sleep in and enjoy the many things that God has given you. Like sleep. Sleep is one of those wonderful gifts that just keeps on giving, every... single... night. So why cut it short? Sleep is such a wonderful thing, it lets your mind reflect on the events of the day and work through them, freeing your creative outlets into visual and emotional responses. It refreshes you, allowing you to function the following day. So why on earth would you cut it short?

I didn't cut my sleep short this morning. Not intentionally, but a complete accident. And once again I missed the 6AM Saturday prayer meeting. I can't say that when I go to sleep on a Friday night, the first thing that crosses my mind is "Oh goodie! I get to awaken at 6 AM tomorrow to pray!" My cynical side asks if it's holier to pray that early, or if prayers at 9 AM still beat rush-hour traffic to God. I haven't worked that one out yet.

So I'm definitely not in the good books, but I think I'm just getting used to that.

I left the BDC (Bethel Discipleship Centre, where I'm staying while in Fiji) around 1:30 to come to the Tanoa International. We're having a get together later this evening with a bunch of the pilots, and Jong has so kindly offered me his internet to use. So I left in absolutely pouring rain. It was fantastic. I have to walk about 1 KM from the roundabout (traffic circle) to the hotel, and when it pours, you have to be very careful to time your walking with the passing of cars and puddles. It's like a real live version of frogger! I'm not as cute as that green frog though.

Or am I? :)

You’re Behind the Wheel

2007-03-02T23:48:00.000-07:00

My time here has really been teaching me that no matter where God has put you, He will not force you to follow His will. That lies entirely in your own hands. You have the choice to follow His will and His commands, or to walk in the other direction and turn your back on what He has to say to you. It’s really a frightening amount of power when you think about it. God will honour your free will, regardless of the harm you may cause.

Today was pretty run of the mill. I taught scripture in school this morning, and ran them through the beginning of the story of Joseph. I had the kids act out the various different times, and some of the classes did better than others. You still have to keep the lid on the fun in order to teach something, and there are times when that means playing the ‘bad guy.’ So some of them had to listen to me teach it normally because they weren’t able to be quiet!

The afternoon was spent working on my sermon, enjoying the pouring rain outside and playing squash at the sports club. It’s a great workout, counts for my Phys Ed, and is fun at the same time. That is a three-fold combination that you really just can’t beat.

We’ll see what the weekend holds.

Fording the River

2007-03-01T22:52:00.000-07:00

It must have been an odd feeling. You have travelled thousands of miles and months have passed since you waved goodbye to your family, your friends, and your home. Here you are, having been living out of a covered wagon for countless months, constantly travelling west, only to meet a giant, rapid river. Suddenly you are confronted with a tedious decision, do you ford ahead, pushing through the current and hoping that the horse’s footing holds to make it through the river bank, or do you call it quits and hope you can live off the land?

Many pushed ahead regardless, hoping for better land, and ultimately a better life. These were the pioneers that many of us are able to call our family. We are proud of their accomplishments, and we mourn the loss of so many others who didn’t make it through these dangerous bodies of water.

Life is kind of like that. We come across giant rivers that we know we must push through in order to get closer to our final destination. There is a sense of pride as we look back and see all the rivers we’ve waded through thus far, and dread as we look forward and see how many we have yet to go through. But this is irrelevant, you are chest-deep in water, and the current is clawing at you, threatening to drag you down the stream with it.

One small step at a time, you have to keep pushing forward. Trusting that God will anchor your feet to the riverbed, and see you safely through. I can feel those claws ripping at me now. Discouragement, Doubt, Hate, Disbelief, Disillusionment, Apathy. All of them want to take me down the river with them, over the waterfall. But I cannot go. I must force my way through the many obstacles ahead, trusting that God will hold me steady, and carry me through. Truly, these are the footprints of our lives.

We had young adults this evening. Many of them have warmed up significantly to me and the other ‘white’ people in the group, so the laughing abounded early on. It was neat to just sit and be people with others from a completely different culture, enjoying each other. We played Attack! Uno. I spoke on 2 Thessalonians 3:6-15. There was good food. We laughed and shared joy.

The real lessons for me came after, however. I rode in the back of the van with the rest of the Fijians. Just listening for whatever clues I could garnish from their interactions. One of the most profound statements came out at that moment. We were just leaving a paved road for a bumpy, gross, underdeveloped back road, and the comment was made, “Ah... back to civilization.”

Think about that for a moment.

We live our lives in a rat race, always trying to get above and beyond the ‘Jones’.’ But what is really important? These are people who are happy with a roof over their head and food in their stomach. They have smiles on their faces not because of what they possess, but because of who they are around. This is a lesson we could all benefit by heeding.

“Ah... back to civilization.”

Of Mice and Men

2007-02-28T20:42:00.000-07:00

Moving to another culture will teach you many new things. It will start by teaching you things you never noticed about yourself that suddenly stand out in a foreign culture. Small diminutive mannerisms that don’t seem out of place until you take them into the abnormal.

The other thing it will teach you is the extent to which people around you affected your people communicate in many different ways, with many different underlying foundations to affect their worldview. While this has always been true in theory, it’s not until you experience it that it truly begins to shine through in a real way.

While being here in Fiji, I obviously interact with people from all over the world. Australians, Kiwi’s (New Zealanders), Americans, Fijians, Philippino’s, French, British etc. Every one of them holds different values and different ways to look at the world. Put them all into a room, and abruptly it’s like turning on the neon light. Oh, don’t worry, they all get along just fine, but as the night starts to draw on, different sides of them begin to emerge as they interact.

Many of you know that I love to sit back in a crowd and just watch what comes out in people. People do eccentric and comical things when they think that no one is watching, myself included! But a rare few do the weirdest things when they know that people are watching. It begins to show what really lies underneath. Do they think that they are superior to the people that are around them? Are they crass and uninhibited underneath that smile? Are the oblivious to what goes on around them? These questions are answered very swiftly over the course of a night. The fortress begins to come down.

So the question that I have to ask myself, and I think we all should is... what’s inside that fortress? Are you really ready for people to see it? Or are you trying to veil it for everything you’re worth. It’s a chilling thought, but a necessary one.

I think I'm Starting to Enjoy This

2007-02-28T17:09:00.000-07:00

I'm in the process of taking Phys Ed through Prairie Distance Ed. That means that for 3 times a week, I need to have some form of strenuous exercise for a minimum of 30 minutes. Last week, I biked for 30 minutes, walked for over 3 hours (mowing the lawn), and ran for 30 minutes. You know how it goes. You feel great for the first 5 minutes, ok for the next 10, and then awful for the last 15.

So awful that you wonder why you started in the first place, no sane human being would truly do this to themselves and call it fun. It hurts, you want nothing more than to stop, but because of some invisible source (read: pride) you keep going. You keep going... and going... and going. Every second scrapes past you, taking an eternity to merely get on with it.

And we keep coming back for more.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I spent most of the morning working up to the inevitable 'work-out' that I was going to have to prod myself into later in the day. Deciding to get it over with sooner rather than later, I hopped onto a bike. Ten minutes went by... this isn't so bad, I thought. Maybe it was the iPod... yeah, that must be it. The iPod is making this more enjoyable.

Fool, it's sucking you in.

You're starting to enjoy it. Listen to yourself! You're talking positively as if this were fun when every single aching muscle in your body is BEGGING YOU TO STOP!

I got off. I felt good. There has to be something sinful about that.

The Crossroads

2007-02-27T21:59:00.000-07:00

There are times in all of our lives when we are forced to make hard decisions. Decisions that affect not just yourself, but many others that are around you, and not always in a positive way. There are times when the right decision is not the easy decision. It is in times like these that we can know we have a loving, caring Father in heaven who guides our feet through the valleys.

Esther 4:14 14 "For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place and you and your father's house will perish. And who knows whether you have not attained royalty for such a time as this?"

God's hands guide our lives, they shape and form us into exactly who He wants us to be. It's a scary thought, submitting your very essence to the moulding of a 3rd party. That's like allowing someone to take auto-pilot over your life. In that, I am comfortable about nothing.

And so I stand at the crossroads. There is a very real possibility that God has prepared me for such a time as this. But the pushing through, the strife that comes along with it makes me yearn for easier days. Days when only I was affected by the decisions that I made, and that didn't so clearly go against the grain. Yet I stand at a crossroads once again.

Once again He is asking the question, "Who is willing? Who will go?" And once again, I feel my hand creeping up my side, and my mouth opening to say, "Here I am, send me." Scary, but fulfilling.

The Missionary Experience

2007-02-26T21:18:00.000-07:00

Never, ever let anyone tell you this is easy. Never let anyone say that to be a missionary is exotic or in any way glorious. That statement couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s hard. It’s like someone taking their fingernails to a chalkboard. There are experiences you can never truly prepare for, and punches that are hard to take.

Last night, I was sleeping in the back of Lami church, and for whatever reason, the cockroaches decided they were going to spend the night with me. I killed about 20 or 30 of them before I went to bed, but that was maybe half of them. Maybe. All throughout the night, I would feel something crawling over me, smack it (to a rather disgusting crunching sound) and go back to sleep. When I woke up this morning, I had a few bites… not the best night I’ve ever had.

I had all day to prepare for the Bible study this evening. So I decided right around noon that I would hope into Suva, eat some lunch, and get on the internet. What I wouldn’t do to be back home in the comfort of friends and family. Distance begins to take it’s toll when you are attempting to retain the relationships you have formed, and the depth that you delved to prior begins to show it’s worth when the well starts to dry up. Six months apart from Jordan takes its toll on a relationship. One month apart from family and you start to feel separated. Neither are particularly long periods of time in the grand scheme of things, but seem like eternity in the present.

But there are beacons of hope. I have to remind myself that I am still exactly where God wants me to be. I am experiencing what He has planned, and going through what He wants. None of it is easy, but He never said it would be easy, did He? But these trials, these deep chasms filled with rays of light are the things that build character. They build the well and solidify the rock underneath your feet, so that the storms of life don’t seem so bad.

Keep your head up, soldier. Zion is just over the crest of that next hill. March, because that’s the only way we’re ever going to get there.