A Meeting With the Enemy.

I'm glad you could join us. I invited you here because I believe some credit is due.

You are dogged; You are strategic; And there is no denying your expertise. You seem scarily keen to my fears and insecurities. You find them, you pin them down, you lean into them mercilessly and heavily with your knees. I have yet to keep a wound from your vision. Your cold and careless hands eventually find them and pull them open again. And you have been so hard at work lately. This will certainly go down in my calendar as the summer when you never slept. I must acknowledge your vigor:

You yoked my frame with ultimatums heavy as stone.
You placed before me expectations of great measure, always a distant vision to my limited abilities.
You measured my love by my performance.
You spotted my flesh with bruises.
You rendered me weak and thin.
In the night you broke into my car and stole from me.
You slandered me with the voices of those I love most.
You lied to me.
You stood between me and my comfort.
You locate my greatest gifts and tell me they aren't mine.
You find my beauty and you fabricate ugliness to distract me from it.
You made me tremble, you ran me out of my home in the middle of the night.
You breached my privacy.
You made my eyes swell and my head ache with tears.
When I was alone you enraged me.
When I would lie down you would keep me awake.
You told me I was a monster, a deceiver, a ruiner.
You made me forget what was safe.
You told me I was defenseless.
You made me fear my only Refuge. You lied about Him.
In the night you spoke with the silence and the darkness, you told me I was alone. You taunted me as I held myself.
You called me selfish, you told me I am a creature of the flesh.

...

Wait- Where are you going? Won't you own your own works? Don't you want the credit for all you have done? You have been working so hard, and you are so good at what you do. Surely you didn't do all of that for nothing. You know, I must admit- I do not understand you. I am used to the King who takes credit for the things He does. I am used to the One who stands firm and accepts the praises that are due Him. He speaks His own Name with authority and He wants everyone to be familiar with it. His Name is proclaimed by the works of His hands. But you, what is your name? Who are you? Why do you point elsewhere when I ask you these questions? Why are you content to give up the ownership of your deeds so freely? Why will you not stand still? You blow your smoke and you twist your mirrors. You are most fulfilled when I see your work but not your hand. I have discovered you. Why does that grieve you?

Well, you can relax. I told you that I believe some credit is due- but I was not talking about you. However, this involves you quite largely, so I believe you should be present for this. Listen to these words. Sit still and hear me speak them. I want you to hear this.

The credit I owe, I owe to my Father.

"Father, thank you for the ultimatums I faced which familiarized me with the Christ who grieved in Gethsemane.
Thank you for the lofty expectations which reminded me why I am under grace and not under law.
Thank you for accepting brokenness as worship when that was the only way I could love you.
Thank you for the bruises on my earthsuit, which made me long for my renewal in heaven, the promise you have protected for me.
Thank you for my weakness and my lack of health, that I may remember the true Source of my strength.
Thank you for the thief who robbed me, who reminded me that my treasures are not on earth but on Your throne, in You.
Thank you for the slander I braced, that I was able to see how the love of man will never be perfect enough for me to forget my need for You.
Thank you for labeling the lies when they arose, that I may study their antitheses and learn new truths.
Thank you for allowing my comfort to be withheld, that I may not idolize it over your purpose.
Thank you for being my greatest gift and reminding me that You are for me.
Thank you for showing me the beauty of my humanity.
Thank you for calming my tremors and forgiving me when I found my limbs governed by fear.
Thank you for saving me from blame, that secrecy may no longer have anything to defend for me.
Thank you for the tears which seasoned me and made my heart deeper.
Thank you for not being provoked by my rage.
Thank you for holding me every night in my bed, and waiting with me as I waited for sleep to come.
Thank you for identifying the enemy, not me, as the monster, deceiver, and ruiner.
Thank you for keeping me safe even when I couldn't see my own Haven.
Thank you for defending me.
Thank you for not being limited by my understanding of You.
Thank you for never leaving me alone.
Thank you for reminding me that I am not of the flesh, but the Spirit.

But most importantly, thank you for using my enemy to sanctify me and remind me of Your greatness. May he continue to have his way with me,
that I may know You more,
that my worship may be deepened,
that he may continue to be a blessing to me,
and that I may continue to remind him of his irreversible curse.

I love You. Thank you for recommending me to the enemy and allowing him to be used by You to glorify Yourself in my life. After all, it is true that all things come together for the good of those who love You."

One Decision.

I want to tell you about my last desire.

It is not my last desire because it is the last one standing, or because all other desires have fallen away.

It is my last desire because in all its intensity, in all its strength, in all its depth, in all its ability to rule and govern my heart, it has eclipsed everything else I could want.

More than my womanhood wants the committed love of a man,
More than my womb wants to someday bear my own innocent children,
More than I want to meet up with my own future bought for me by student loans and hours of studying,
More than I want my next breath,
Do I want you to experience Jesus with a heart that sees by the eyes of faith.

Because you are one decision away.

One decision away from a clean slate. One decision away from the loose ends of your life starting to come together and make sense.
One decision away from experiencing what it is like to have your own Creator dancing around you, eager to show you what He has made, eager to show you what He has seen, eager to show you His own undying heart for you.

He is a humble Father. Humble-- that He would think it worth His time to set so much glory and beauty and care in your heart of flesh. Humble-- that He became flesh so that His flesh might be ripped away to utter the most costly and irrefutable "I love you" ever spoken by man. He is a mighty Father. Mighty-- that He rose again to say to death, "excuse me." Mighty-- that He has the power and desire to step in front of you and say to death, "you cannot have him/her."

When you tremble, He is still. When you are confused, He is unchanging. When you feel alone, you have His people. When you feel lost, you have His book. When you suffer despair, you have His Spirit in you. And when you doubt, faith patiently waits for you, and it suffers no lost time.

You are one decision away from abundance. One decision away from Life with a capital "L."

You are one decision away from realizing that you are a creation of the only Creator. That He spends all His creation for the purpose of loving you.

In vanity I have pursued other religions. I sought them out because I wanted to be spiritual, to find something that fit me. But logic tells us that there is something that is True, and something that is False. Something that is God, and something that is not. We do not get merits in heaven for the "number of souls we save." We do not keep tallies. We have no personal gain other than the inexplicable joy and relief we experience when a dear brother or sister steps into the Light and begins to dance for the first time. No, I am not saying these things to you because I am interested in numbers. I am not saying these things because I am brainwashed into being a spiritual salesman. I say these things to you now because I know Him; I have experienced the only God that moves. He is so alive.

You can be Buddhist. You can be Taoist. You can be undecided. I have been all three. But let me assure you- those things will not love you. They will not move. They cannot carry you, because there is no God behind them. I am telling you these things now because I have found the ultimate goldmine-- the singular decision that stood between me and the God of the universe.

And as long as I love you
I cannot know you
and know Him
and know that you do not know each other
and be okay.

I submit these words to you with every ounce of love in my heart, knowing that I cannot make this decision for you. It is the easiest and hardest thing you will ever do. Because while it is a singular decision, it is the only decision that requires 100% faith. The decision is yours to make. But I could not leave these things unsaid or bow to fear that I might scare you away with the power that is behind these words. Because when it comes to eternity and true Life, who cares about an awkward moment?

Love me.

(I did not write this- but found it- and had to share it, because I can relate to it so much and could not agree more with its contents.)

-------------------------------

I love you.
Don’t ask me why—or how—because I don’t understand.
Being human, I’ve always preferred a certain type in looks and personality.
Some I’d feel quite comfortable with, and others I would avoid.
You are all so very different.
And I don’t even know your personality types.
Yet there is this love. Please believe me.
It’s Something within me so strong that it causes me to reach out and touch you and say, "I love you."

Please love me.

Not because of my looks or personality, because I know you must have your preferences, too.
And I may not meet your qualifications.
Don't expect great things of me—I’m prone to stumble and even fall.
And please don’t expect me to perform perfectly. I would disappoint you.
If your love for me depends on my performance, I’m afraid you won’t love me for very long.
All I ask is that you accept me as I accept you.
I won’t ask you, "How could you really love me?"
Don’t ask me, "How could you love so many and know so little about them?"
I’ll just believe that there is this same Something within you that causes
you to reach out to me
and say,

"My Dear Brother/Sister. I love you, too."

The Weariness of Motions.

I felt sleepy and bored, so I lay there in my bed. But what started out as mere boredom and physical fatigue quickly snowballed into indescribable and severely uncomfortable Homesickness. I was heavyhearted.

I looked to my desk and saw my textbooks. I didn't want to study.
I looked at my laptop and didn't want to write.
I looked at my Bible and didn't know what to read.
I hugged myself and looked at the ceiling, and realized I didn't want to do anything. Not as long as I had to do it here. My soul was weary.

"No matter what I do, it would feel like waiting," I told Him. "God...I'm tired."

The more I thought about going to sleep again, waking up again, getting dressed again, gathering more documents for financial aid, turning in another assignment, making another life plan... the more pointless it all became to me.

The weariness of my soul at the mere thought of living life motion-by-motion turned into physical discomfort. I cried. Anything I could think to do seemed futile and vain. I was so discouraged. Shouldn't I be motivated by the purpose He has given me? Shouldn't I be strengthened, since I am equipped with His Spirit in me? I remembered a moment I enjoyed a couple weeks ago in which I sat in silence and marveled at the ebb and flow, up and down, coming and going of life.

I was sitting on the floor next to my roommate who was in tears on the phone as she learned that her grandma was fatally sick and approaching death. I caressed her leg and smiled at her, then looked straight ahead and beheld the beauty of it all. The struggle, the glory, the simple beauties of merely living as people do. And then, the best part: leaving it all behind. Going forth to worship Him, unhindered, for eternity in the fullness of His presence. In that moment, I found life beautiful and worth it. So worth it.

So I thought, "Why, then, am I burdened by it now?" Why do I feel weary when I am simply lying in bed?

The reason: in that moment with my roommate, I saw life through a relational perspective. I sat shoulder-to-shoulder with my God and said to Him in my heart with wonder, "We are just living life," -to which I heard, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

But in this moment as I lay heavyhearted and Homesick in my bed, I saw life as a series of motions, and they were therefore empty of any significance to me.

It was a heavy feeling. But the reason I am posting such personal things on the internet is because I see this experience as an opportunity to remember and proclaim the importance of knowing Him. And I am talking to Christians, here.

Because you don't become immune to that feeling that everything is meaningless when you become a Christian. In fact, I could see how you would be more prone to it. Before I knew Jesus, I "found" purpose and meaning in many things. Everywhere I looked, there was an opportunity to convince myself that I had found purpose and fulfillment. A relationship. School. Friends. Approval. Self-improvement. Self-made spirituality. Education. Beauty. Helping the community. Random experiences of joy. I jumped from one to the next because each one could never convince me for long.

But when I started knowing Jesus, my purpose was simplified to one thing that is exclusive to all other things: abiding in Him. There is no other purpose. I cannot be satisfied doing anything else without also doing that. When I think about being in a relationship, going to school, having friends- anything- it is meaningless to me if I cannot live this life with the purpose of knowing and loving Him.


"For who can eat and who can have enjoyment without Him?"
(Ecclesiastes 2:25)

Everything else is futile! What can I become that will not pass away when I pass away? What can I do that has not been done? Assignments are worked on so they can be turned in and forgotten. Good grades are distributed so I may be permitted to keep studying and accumulate more. Bills are paid so new ones can be mailed in. If I perceive life at this face value- YES, I am going to feel immediately deflated, alone, discouraged, and ready for Heaven.


"All the rivers flow into the sea, yet the sea is not full. To the place where the rivers flow, there they flow again. All things are wearisome; man is not able to tell it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing."
(Ecclesiastes 1:7-8)


But when I see life as an opportunity to have a relationship with Him who created me and loves me, I am inspired, assisted, encouraged, and still ready for Heaven.

"Just as the Father has loved Me, I have also loved you; abide in My love."
(John 15:9)

Oh, what a difference it makes.


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"Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth does not become weary or tired. His understanding is inscrutable. He gives strength to the weary, and to him who lacks might He increases power. Though youths grow weary and become tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly, yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary."
-Isaiah 40:28-31

A Victory Not Our Own

My roommate bleeds Butler Blue.

With newspaper cutouts, pennants, balloons, posters, and pompoms taking over her closet door, corkboard, and every wall on her side of the room, Tabitha recently asked me if she could start spreading her Butler paraphernalia to other walls to make space for the posters she has waiting for her in a stack on her dresser.


On game days, my other roommate and I always have a looming anxiety about what will happen on the court. Yes, we are proud of our team and always want "our boys" to win, but we are also concerned about Tabitha's emotional well-being. When the Dawgs bring in another victory, Tabitha is high as a kite with unbreakable joy- checking airline prices so she can see the next tournament game in person, adding more pictures of Matt Howard and Brad Stevens to what she proudly calls her "stalker door," and rejoicing greatly in their hard-earned victory. But- when we lose- make way, there will be tears. And her school assignments will be put on hold, and it is a quiet, somber day in room 12. I can't tell you how many times I have heard her say, "We cannot afford to lose this week…I have an exam on Friday!"


She is going to hate me for posting this, by the way. :)

But the truth is- I love this about her! I thoroughly enjoy being caught up in this drama of battle and victory and team-pride. March Madness has brought such a triumphant air to the entire campus, and I am soaking it up.

Now that I have exposed some of my roommate's qwerks, let me also expose mine. I can be a real spiritual nerd- I seriously over-spiritualize everything. So yes- what looks like a blog post about sports is about to become a blog post about Jesus. Surprised? Here goes:

It's the night of the Sweet Sixteen game, and Butler is playing Wisconsin. The game has been so stressful, and a huge crowd of Butler students are watching together on a projector screen with anticipation so thick you could cut it with a knife. My ears have been ringing for the past hour and my throat is on fire. Occasionally I black out from standing up and screaming too fast, but that does not keep me from roaring with the utmost enthusiasm at every free-throw and three-pointer. It is nearing the end of the game, and the results are looking more and more promising. Two students begin to open the outside doors, and everyone gathers their things and throws on their jackets while they scream and roar and clap on the victory we know is soon to come.


And surely, as soon as that final buzzer sounds and our team rakes in another win, a mass of blue and white rushes for the doors. I am in the midst of this crowd, and so is my friend Brittany. Next thing I know, at least half of the student body is outside in the streets, jumping, hollering, and crowding around news cameras. There is crowd surfing, flag waving, and people sitting on their friends' shoulders with war paint on their faces chanting the Butler cheer. After a while, Brittany and I separated from the crowd to give our bodies a rest.


"Look at them…" I said as we stood facing them from afar. She did, and I know she saw what I saw. We saw a loud, unabashed celebration of victory- the physical manifestation of what we often feel in our souls.
"They are celebrating the victory of a battle they didn't even fight," I said. And I saw the light-bulbs light up above her head.
I continued, "And they are loud about it! Boasting! The victory of the ones who fought on their behalf belongs as much to them as the players who earned it."

We were suddenly even more encouraged to behold the celebration that was taking place before us.Then we walked away, remembering that we are tailored with human needs according to what the Gospel provides.

"Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord."
-1 Corinthians 1:31

"But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through the Lord Jesus Christ."
-1 Corinthians 15:57

Light.

darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God as moving over the surface of the waters.
-Genesis 1:2


God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness.
-Genesis 1:4


Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, "I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life."
-John 8:12


But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name
-John 1:12



See how great a love the Father has bestowed on us, the we would be called children of God; and such we are. For this reason the world does not know us, because it did not know Him. Beloved, now we are children of God..
-1 John 3:1-2



and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ
-Romans 8:17




I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened, so that you will know what is the hope of His calling, what are the riches of the glory of His inheritance in the saints, and what is the surpassing greatness of His power toward us who believe.
-Ephesians 1:18-19



The Lord's lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. "The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I have hope in Him." The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the person who seeks Him.
-Lamentations 3:22-25

A Lily to Her Apple Tree

Bridegroom:
"Like a lily among thorns, so is my darling among the maidens."

Bride:
"Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest, so is my beloved among the young men."
-Song of Songs 2:2-3



I am a lily
in a field among my sisters.
The Father's hand is the soil
and in it we are planted.
His veins are the roots
and from them we drink life.
His glory is our light
and because of it we grow
and in it we are beautiful.

In His light my majesty shows.
The posture of my stem, my spine
the softness of my petals, my skin.
In His light my purity glows
the brightest of white,
the truest of beauty.
For I am a lily
in a field among my sisters.

He blows His breath upon us
and under it we bend.
And over His palm it carries
the lure of our sweet scent
and the tune our waiting song.

Across His palm and over the hill
our song dances
and it lands among the forest.
In the forest where he is planted-
the tree for which I wait.

In the light which is my glory
he is also growing.
In the breath which is my life
he is also living.
And the sweetness
that is my fragrance
in him is bearing fruit.
And by this fruit I will know him
when he grows above the hill.

Over the crest I will see him;
above the rest, I will love him.
The strength of his stalk
will set him apart
among the fruitless others-
his brothers, with whom he grows.

And when the King blows
His breath through my petals
the sweet breath will carry
my fragrance to the hills.
and it will dance amongst the leaves
of my beloved's mature branches.

Because of its sweetness he will search
in the field which sways below him,
my sisters and I
dancing to our waiting song.
Then my tree, my beloved,
In your sight you will behold
what seems to you as a patch of thorns,
my sisters,
amongst the beauty of just one lily:
me.

But waiting hardly feels like waiting
when my soil is His hand,
and my life comes from His veins,
and I bend by His gentle breath,
and His glory is my light,
in which I am beautiful.
So to Him I sing my waiting song.

For you have not yet grown
beyond the crest of the hill.