I was part of a time of community worship tonight, and I'd like to share a little about what God laid on my heart as I felt his presence there.
First off, some context. I'm currently living in a community full of Jesus fanatics where I'm learning so much (some people call it college). It's such a blessing to be here, and I was reminded why as I worshiped with these people only a few hours ago.
Also in introduction, I want to make clear that I love and am greatly appreciative of everyone who helped organize that worship event. I'm about to say some brutally honest things, but I think that's necessary to make my point.
So, in the vein of being honest (I say this without any condemnation), I think the logistics of the worship time were pretty messy. I've led worship and listened to countless other worship bands in my lifetime, so (sadly to say) I unconsciously came with a comparing heart. That's not to say I wasn't excited about worship; I enjoyed the music and experience thoroughly, right from the start. However, I did notice the little things: the band didn't seem totally prepared, the sound and media systems weren't working right, and it was a bit awkward starting off. As the night went on, however, the Holy Spirit grabbed hold of me (as it did those around me), and those things didn't matter anymore. Sure, I still didn't really know what songs the band was playing and there were still technical issues. Yet a time of genuine worship ensued in spite of all that. Scratch that. I actually think a time of genuine worship ensued because of all that. (You can think I'm crazy as long as you keep reading.)
As I stood there, worshiping and praying, God put this word in my mind: messy. I used that word earlier to describe the event, but as God spoke to me, something else came to mind. I'm messy. My life, my circumstances, my doubts, fears, and failures - I'm a mess. Then I thought about it more. The people around me; they're messy too. Those guys leading worship; they're messy too. Humanity is messy. We don't have it all together, and the logistics of our life are a wreck. Yet, here's the thing - there's beauty in that.
The fact that humanity is messy means God has something to work with. I don't know if you know, but God's in the business of taking messy things and making them beautiful again. That's what happened at worship tonight, and that's what he's doing in each one of us. He's taking the mess and transforming it.
To bring it all back, I think part of what made the worship feel so genuine was its messiness, its humanity. When we say God wants to meet us where we are, I think that's what we mean. It's not to condone sin. It's not to celebrate messiness in itself - it's to point us to the Savior who can erase all the sin and messiness. And God loves this. He wants our messy worship - the times where we want to seek and praise Him but don't know how. The times when we feel ashamed and unworthy. The times when we're empty and confused and lonely and hurting. The times we choose to surrender without knowing how.
So let's get into the habit of coming to God right where we are; bringing the worry, regret, shame, technical difficulties, etc. See, we don't come to our Savior broken so that God can glorify the mess; we come to Him so that the mess can be used to glorify God.
Monday, September 9, 2013
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Our Story.
Do you think the story of your life matters? I do.
This summer, I have had the blessing to be part of an amazing community at Sky Lodge Christian Camp. Some call it a job, but the impact it's had on my life proves that it's so much more than that.
The theme of the summer staff program this year is "Our Story". When I first heard that, I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. Why? I was thrilled because I love stories. Not just the kind born in the minds of humans like J.R.R Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, but also the stories that we all live. Each person contains a legacy of memories and experiences that have helped shape them; stories that strengthen and scar them. Most importantly, we all share in God's story and his plans for each of our lives. That's a beautiful thing when you actually contemplate it.
Then, however, God began to speak to me about my own story. That's when an uneasiness set in - the feeling that I would have to face my own scars and fears. I knew that if "Our Story" was the premise of the summer, that I, too, would be subject to share my life and be honest about it. That has proven to be true, but it's actually quite a wonderful experience. The summer is far from over, but already I've had the privilege of seeing raw humanity, both in myself and others.
What I'd like to make a point about, though, is why I felt uneasy in the first place and why I think we all feel that. I'm not apprehensive about sharing my story - that's something I now look forward to. The problem is, my story doesn't have a clean, happy ending. It's full of mistakes, it's incomplete, and it's just messy. Being a fan of stories and writing, I so wanted to have a conclusion. I wanted there to be an ending that could encourage others. I wanted closure, and I don't think I'm alone in this.
It's a seemingly naive sentiment; obviously our story isn't over, so there isn't an ending. But we don't want to tell an incomplete story because it exposes us. It leaves us right where we're at - messy, confused, struggling. It prevents us from painting ourselves to be something we're not. And even if we know deep down that that's a good thing, it still scares us. In addition, as a Christian I want my story to be a testimony of God's grace, but it seems hard to do that if I admit that I'm still a work in progress. We somehow have this perception that to be a Christian means to be clean and polished and all together. That's the disconnect.
So how do we shift our focus? How we do be honest while still glorifying God? First off, we need to realize that our story doesn't consist of only pain. No person is devoid of blessings and joys. You may be hurting as your family falls apart, but you still have that one person that you can talk to. You may have faced rejection all your life, but there were still those times you felt loved more than anything. You may not know how you're going to pay for school this year, but you know that God always provides. When we open up, it will be messy, but that doesn't mean there aren't joyful moments and victories in your story as well.
The second thing we need to understand is that we're not alone. The subconscious fear in most of us, I think, is that we'll be judged or rejected or ridiculed if we share our story. We think that we'll be singled out because we're so messed up. But let me remind you how absurd that is. Yes, there might be those people that condemn, but then it's them doing something wrong, not you. You see, you're not the odd one out if you're messed up. We all struggle and we all have joy and pain in our stories. We put up facades, so we fear that everyone else is in much better shape than we are, while that is rarely the case. So really, it'd be if you were perfect that you'd be the odd one out.
Chances are, you've either heard all this before or it seemed fairly obvious. Yet, I think we all need a reminder: You are not alone. You are not too far gone. Your story is worth sharing.
It takes a special humility to be honest. It's a humility that prevents us from towering over others but also keeps us from beating ourselves up. It's a terrifying thing, but imagine if we all lived like that. I would like to point out that honesty is not the same as a lack of discretion or privacy. Obviously not everything should be shared with everyone at any time. The excuse of "honesty" is also not a legitimate license for gossip or seeking attention.
True honesty, though - Spirit-led, God-honoring honesty - is something we are in need of, especially in the Christian community. We need to know that we're not alone. We need to learn to grow closer to God together in a new way. And that starts with me and you.
I'm learning what it means to honest. What's your story?
This summer, I have had the blessing to be part of an amazing community at Sky Lodge Christian Camp. Some call it a job, but the impact it's had on my life proves that it's so much more than that.
The theme of the summer staff program this year is "Our Story". When I first heard that, I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. Why? I was thrilled because I love stories. Not just the kind born in the minds of humans like J.R.R Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, but also the stories that we all live. Each person contains a legacy of memories and experiences that have helped shape them; stories that strengthen and scar them. Most importantly, we all share in God's story and his plans for each of our lives. That's a beautiful thing when you actually contemplate it.
Then, however, God began to speak to me about my own story. That's when an uneasiness set in - the feeling that I would have to face my own scars and fears. I knew that if "Our Story" was the premise of the summer, that I, too, would be subject to share my life and be honest about it. That has proven to be true, but it's actually quite a wonderful experience. The summer is far from over, but already I've had the privilege of seeing raw humanity, both in myself and others.
What I'd like to make a point about, though, is why I felt uneasy in the first place and why I think we all feel that. I'm not apprehensive about sharing my story - that's something I now look forward to. The problem is, my story doesn't have a clean, happy ending. It's full of mistakes, it's incomplete, and it's just messy. Being a fan of stories and writing, I so wanted to have a conclusion. I wanted there to be an ending that could encourage others. I wanted closure, and I don't think I'm alone in this.
It's a seemingly naive sentiment; obviously our story isn't over, so there isn't an ending. But we don't want to tell an incomplete story because it exposes us. It leaves us right where we're at - messy, confused, struggling. It prevents us from painting ourselves to be something we're not. And even if we know deep down that that's a good thing, it still scares us. In addition, as a Christian I want my story to be a testimony of God's grace, but it seems hard to do that if I admit that I'm still a work in progress. We somehow have this perception that to be a Christian means to be clean and polished and all together. That's the disconnect.
So how do we shift our focus? How we do be honest while still glorifying God? First off, we need to realize that our story doesn't consist of only pain. No person is devoid of blessings and joys. You may be hurting as your family falls apart, but you still have that one person that you can talk to. You may have faced rejection all your life, but there were still those times you felt loved more than anything. You may not know how you're going to pay for school this year, but you know that God always provides. When we open up, it will be messy, but that doesn't mean there aren't joyful moments and victories in your story as well.
The second thing we need to understand is that we're not alone. The subconscious fear in most of us, I think, is that we'll be judged or rejected or ridiculed if we share our story. We think that we'll be singled out because we're so messed up. But let me remind you how absurd that is. Yes, there might be those people that condemn, but then it's them doing something wrong, not you. You see, you're not the odd one out if you're messed up. We all struggle and we all have joy and pain in our stories. We put up facades, so we fear that everyone else is in much better shape than we are, while that is rarely the case. So really, it'd be if you were perfect that you'd be the odd one out.
Chances are, you've either heard all this before or it seemed fairly obvious. Yet, I think we all need a reminder: You are not alone. You are not too far gone. Your story is worth sharing.
It takes a special humility to be honest. It's a humility that prevents us from towering over others but also keeps us from beating ourselves up. It's a terrifying thing, but imagine if we all lived like that. I would like to point out that honesty is not the same as a lack of discretion or privacy. Obviously not everything should be shared with everyone at any time. The excuse of "honesty" is also not a legitimate license for gossip or seeking attention.
True honesty, though - Spirit-led, God-honoring honesty - is something we are in need of, especially in the Christian community. We need to know that we're not alone. We need to learn to grow closer to God together in a new way. And that starts with me and you.
I'm learning what it means to honest. What's your story?
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Doubt Saturday
First off, in terms of remembering important events or principles, Easter is the most important holiday of the year. What would our faith be without the events that we remember during this season?
Yesterday was Good Friday. Good Friday is an important day. It marks the day when the price of our sins was paid. In full. To put it simply - we messed up, and someone had to pay for it. Christ did that. For every single one of us, in all of history. Doesn't that sound like something we should think about every now and again?
So Good Friday and Easter Sunday are very important days, and we should use this time to reflect on what Christ has done for us. But today, I read a blog post about a very insightful topic: Doubt Saturday. In other words, the time between Good Friday and Easter Sunday - which would be today. I think this is a simple, but important concept. This is what the blog said:
So what's being said here? Christ died, and then he rose again, but it didn't all happen at once. He waited. He didn't come out of the tomb the very next morning. There was a day of silence.
Let's put ourselves in the disciples' shoes for a moment here. Everything Jesus had said had begun to come true, but I don't think they quite understood yet. Nevertheless, they knew that their Savior was dead. Imagine how heartbroken, disappointed, confused, and utterly helpless they must have felt.
This was a dark day in history. It was starting to look like evil had won. Faith seemed pointless at this point. Did Peter still hold out hope when it seemed like all was lost? Did John expect Jesus to come back? We don't know the answers to those questions, but even if the answers are yes, they must have doubted, or at least had some confusion. This day, then, provides the ultimate test of faith. Will we stand firm even when it looks like our Savior has been defeated?
To me, this is what Doubt Saturday represents. There were questions. There was doubt. There was pain. Yet, this was all part of the glorious plan. When Jesus showed up on Easter, imagine the joy of his followers. Their faith was proven. The doubt was worth it, because it built their faith. It allowed them to understand the weight of what had happened. The same is true for us, as well.
Sometimes we go through a Doubt Saturday. I know I've had my share of dark days. The reason I bring up this idea, though, is to shine a ray of hope. The frustrations, confusion, and doubt drag us down, but Easter is coming. Jesus conquered death on that first Easter Sunday, and he'll continue to conquer the death in us when we hold onto faith - and when he does, we'll truly be able to marvel at it. We'll truly have joy, peace, and hope.
Don't lose faith. Tomorrow will come, and it'll be clearer than ever that Christ truly is risen.
Yesterday was Good Friday. Good Friday is an important day. It marks the day when the price of our sins was paid. In full. To put it simply - we messed up, and someone had to pay for it. Christ did that. For every single one of us, in all of history. Doesn't that sound like something we should think about every now and again?
So Good Friday and Easter Sunday are very important days, and we should use this time to reflect on what Christ has done for us. But today, I read a blog post about a very insightful topic: Doubt Saturday. In other words, the time between Good Friday and Easter Sunday - which would be today. I think this is a simple, but important concept. This is what the blog said:
The day between, the day of doubt, the day of frustration and questions and anguish, is just as important as the days surrounding it. You can’t have Easter Sunday without Good Friday, they say, but Easter Sunday wouldn’t nearly have its impact without faith-building Doubt Saturday. When God’s promises seem anything but achievable, and yet you still hold on to Him, seeing them come true in the end — even if it’s totally different than what you expected — is an incomparable joy.I encourage you to read the whole thing here.
So what's being said here? Christ died, and then he rose again, but it didn't all happen at once. He waited. He didn't come out of the tomb the very next morning. There was a day of silence.
Let's put ourselves in the disciples' shoes for a moment here. Everything Jesus had said had begun to come true, but I don't think they quite understood yet. Nevertheless, they knew that their Savior was dead. Imagine how heartbroken, disappointed, confused, and utterly helpless they must have felt.
This was a dark day in history. It was starting to look like evil had won. Faith seemed pointless at this point. Did Peter still hold out hope when it seemed like all was lost? Did John expect Jesus to come back? We don't know the answers to those questions, but even if the answers are yes, they must have doubted, or at least had some confusion. This day, then, provides the ultimate test of faith. Will we stand firm even when it looks like our Savior has been defeated?
To me, this is what Doubt Saturday represents. There were questions. There was doubt. There was pain. Yet, this was all part of the glorious plan. When Jesus showed up on Easter, imagine the joy of his followers. Their faith was proven. The doubt was worth it, because it built their faith. It allowed them to understand the weight of what had happened. The same is true for us, as well.
Sometimes we go through a Doubt Saturday. I know I've had my share of dark days. The reason I bring up this idea, though, is to shine a ray of hope. The frustrations, confusion, and doubt drag us down, but Easter is coming. Jesus conquered death on that first Easter Sunday, and he'll continue to conquer the death in us when we hold onto faith - and when he does, we'll truly be able to marvel at it. We'll truly have joy, peace, and hope.
Don't lose faith. Tomorrow will come, and it'll be clearer than ever that Christ truly is risen.
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