Monday, June 1, 2020

The Earth is Weeping

“For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now.  Not only that, but we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body.  For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees?  But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.”  -Romans 8:19-25


The earth is weeping.
Groaning with perpetuated pains,
Maimed with sorrows that were borne
With the first step of sin.

The earth is weeping.
A gnashing of brutality unleashed;
Ravaged by war and disease.
We claim to be united, and yet,
Divided, we are falling.

The earth is weeping…
How long has it been 
Since the Lamb was shed?
Here we remain, laboring,
Waiting
For the fullness of Redemption
To reign freely in our hearts and land.

Fear has driven us into hiding
So that a virus will not threaten our security.
Old wounds caused by hatred has driven us
To the streets, brother against brother.

More things can be listed;
More offenses can be named.
God, You know them all.

The weight produces a silence 
Too strong to utter.
Only the sound of a mutter…
A groan can be heard.

May I stand with those who have had to stand;
To mourn with those who have mourned;
To learn to pray with those who have waited
For Your promises so long?

Will a hand be extended
So that the declaration of Jesus’ love
For all humanity can be actualized?
Perhaps 2020 will look less like 1820,
And more like
The dream of a King
Who only iterated the heart's cry
Of the Heavenly throne.

God, forgive us when we have worshipped You,
But failed to see Your design in the eyes
Of another color.

God, forgive us when we have failed to speak
In the hours of injustice.
God, forgive us when we have become rash,
Defending our honor and denying the patience
In which to hear humility’s other.

God, forgive us when we have failed to empathize,
Mocking one’s concern for the future as a note 
Of a lack of faith.
God, forgive us when we have forced society
To choose sides based on the tactic of an invisible foe.

God, forgive us when we have justified our rebellion
As we have witnessed the execution 
Of another’s disobedience.
God, forgive us when we have exchanged
Cultural perception for theological debate.

The earth is weeping,
Anticipating the sons and daughters
Of Heaven to bear the image of Christ
As salt and light
To the dead and destitute.

And yet...with all that we are faced…
You still remain, and You have never changed.
The cross bears the blood and nail scars -
A witness to the chasm of hell’s appetite satisfied by God’s breath.

Where is it’s sting?  Where is it’s victory?
We are tempted to believe our groans 
Prove evidence enough the daily chaos
Makes the tearing of the veil null and void.
Nonetheless, that is further from the truth.

For though the world weeps, it groans.
And though it groans from the pain of sin,
It groans as in labor before the birth of new life.
Creation waits with expectation and hope
The salvation purchased will transform
Our hearts into a new realization.

Our patience tempts to wane,
However, Your promises are sustained.
Our finite cannot comprehend
The fruition of Truth beyond our own time.

You are faithful.
You are Lord.
There will be joy for our mourning.
There will be beauty for our ashes.
Exchanging yokes of burden
For an offering of praise.
The name of Jesus forever will reign!

Lord, call our names.
Draw us near;
Beckon us to seek Your face.
May we humble ourselves.
Forgive us our wrongs,
And may repentance have its good work in us.
Heal our land.
But most of all, Lord God,
Heal our souls.



Saturday, May 2, 2020

Alone, Yet Satisfied

 


  People have said that COVID has forced the whole of humanity onto one storm, however, we each are in a different boat.  Some are handling this with certainty; others are wondering what the future holds.  Some with faith; others live with fear.  Facebook is flooded with the abundance of opinions over the expanse of the virus, breakdown of the economy, how to support students with their education and the dissolution of rights.  I am not here to discuss my opinion on the debate.  There is more to this storm than what the news is reporting. 

     Casinos and bars were some of the first things to be shut down.  What were deemed to be the most important things in the American society quickly fell to the wayside.  One of my pastors stated that a positive aspect of this pandemic was that God was reprioritizing our lives.
     An understatement.  
     Honestly...when I first heard about the impending schools closing (what we thought at the time to be) temporarily, I had a personal pity party.  I understood the safety precautions of not being right next to people, even making sure to not have large groups.  Nevertheless, when the health recommendations went from 10 people in a room to “shelter-at-home”, my mind was starting to run in anxiety mode, high gear style.
     It’s not that I didn’t care about the pandemic.  I did (and still do).  But something that I haven’t heard many people discuss during this season is the mental health challenge that this may cause.  And I’m not just discussing “going crazy” because you’ve been with your husband way too long.  What about those who have to do this quarantine, living alone?  
     That was my pity party.  Where God was bringing families closer together during this time, I found myself at the opposite end of the spectrum.  Aside from volunteering, I was just supposed to not have any other human contact, because “shelter-at-home” meant only those in your household.  When one lives alone, it’s just you.
     There are worse things to die of than Carona…
     I never became suicidal, however, after week two of this thing, I realized that my emotional stability was already being tested.  The next to go was my spiritual foundation.  I had to face this season, alone.  And I did not like it.  What was I supposed to do if I could not see my loved ones?  (I had friends tell me I should spend this time with my immediate family in Missoula.  But the fact was, Browning is my home.  Could I leave my community when they needed me, too?  Also, at that time, Missoula had several open cases of the COVID...by traveling, I knew that I may be risking my health and safety; thereby, even risking the safety of those at home, when I finally returned.)  And though I am thankful for 21st Century technology, the truth is, social media and phone calls can only go so far when physical touch is needed.  I started to become frantic.  
     Loneliness is my worst fear.  And as of March 15th, I had to face it head on, with no way of escape.  Beginning of April, I wrote down my frustrations to God: “The Carona virus has taken away my everyday job, but I’m meeting new friends.  Now it’s taking away my ability to meet with my [family].”  His response?  
     “And it will give you a deeper relationship with Me.  I want you to know that I fervently love you.”
*****
     There was that word again.  Since the beginning of this year, I knew that God wanted me to understand His love at a deeper level than I have ever understood.  I’ve known Jesus for a while, yet after two decades, it seems like the simplest of the Gospel lessons still fall short of my heart.  I can tell you what the Bible says.  And yes, I believe Jesus loves me.  But…
     Somewhere my heart and brain conflicts, because I still believe that I have to earn love.  I know the Bible is true, howbeit, it’s most foundational lessons are hardest to receive.  Analyzing what the future of 2020 would hold, I asked God, “Why is it so hard for me to receive Your love, and to rest in it?”  The answer shocked me.
     “Because you are satisfied completely in the love of someone else.  [You don’t need my love.]  That’s why I want to redirect your attention.  You don’t need anyone else’s love [to be content].  You really do believe that you are alone.”   
     The truth was out in the open.  
     I spent so much of my life striving to be loved and accepted.  I defined myself by how much people love me (or fail to), rather than how much He loved and loves me.  I know I don’t have to earn His love, but everything in me says I should, because I live in a world where people have to earn love, goodness, and favor.  I have struggled to define myself by my relationship with God, because I have defined myself by my relationship with the people around me.  The irony of this pandemic is not only was I to face my greatest fear, but simultaneously, I found that God was once again, stripping me of safety nets I held onto.  
     I could no longer be defined as an educator, because the schools were closed.  How do you do youth ministry when you can’t see your teens?  And lastly, I had to face my fears of not having my own family with me, to help cope through this season. 
     And all God wanted to ask was, “Do you believe that I will fill your needs to belong?”
*****
     Ever since moving from my hometown, a desire has increasingly been realized in my consciousness.  The fact that I want to belong.  Perhaps it was something that I have always had.  In the awkward moments of my eighth grade year, I don’t remember enjoying the moments I was a loner, due to being teased.  Humans are made for relationship.  And they are made to be a part of something.  I probably wouldn’t mind the chapter of singleness, except I continue to see friends with their significant others and families, and here I am… “on my own” (cue some sad Les Miserables sad songs).  
     I constantly fight insecurities that I am not what I should be.  I respond counter to what is expected, and sometimes I feel left out.  I compare my lack to others’ blessings.  I feel awkward.  I question my beauty.  I vividly can account to you my failures, rather than register my strengths.  I am scared for you to see my weaknesses.  And if you do find them out, I cower.  
    Can one truly claim that to be satisfied in Christ, if the affirmation and comfort of others is sought to produce a source of contentment?  The answer is no.  In a couple blog-posts ago, I admitted that I had a growing need to not stay silent when I have absence of help.  What I am revealing now goes much deeper.  There are times to ask for prayer.  There are moments when wisdom from others must be beckoned.  However, there are times we prefer going to people for our identity and comfort, rather than to God.
     And He has a word for that.  Idolatry.  Adultery.  
     Society calls it what it wills.  A hobby. Entertainment.  Good habits.  Bad habits.  Addictions.  Codependency.  They are all terms by which we try to manage our life’s pains within our own means.  We will yearn for them as long as the pleasure outweighs the consequence. Up until March, I had access to my idols for whenever there was a social gathering.  Facebook was another substitute if I could not obtain face-to-face interaction.  I called people if I became agitated or ancy for being alone.  I was smart to not just call anyone.  Only those I knew who could carry me.  But to them I would run.  And yes, I kept my daily devotional time with God.  But the idea of walking with Him as a friend, fully dependent was not as existent as I presumed originally.
     Worship songs praise that Jesus is the only one who can satisfy.  The same line is used among pastors.  They mean well, but I have since learned to disagree.  Anything will satisfy us...for the time being that we run to it.  And when the feeling is distant, we run to it again, as long as it continues to meet our need or desire.  Our hearts are made to worship, and so we will gravitate toward something or someone who we believe will do just that for us.  And what of Jesus?  Yes, He is indeed the living water (see John 4).  But if the woman at the well decided to talk religion with Jesus and go back to her original life style, Jesus would have only been able to satisfy her only for the moment.  
     There are plenty of people who seek to drink of the Living Water once a week, or once a month.  However, if there is any substance to their lives, I promise you, that if they are not going to Jesus.  They are finding their means of satisfaction elsewhere.  For the Living Water to fill us, we must persistently drink of it.  Daily, often, and firstly.
     The Samaritan woman found that the Truth Jesus carried was something that met her need, deeply...and she made the decision to continue seeking His face, rather than the faces of the men she ran to for love.   We choose to go after something.  And as long as we find pleasure and a contentment in our needs met elsewhere, we have no reason to go after Jesus.  Even if logically, we understand that our drug of choice (i.e. idol of any kind) may bring negative repercussions, the momentary relief still holds us captive.  We hate it, but love it at the same time.  Because it gets the job done.  It meets our needs and/or desires.
     And yet, at the end of the day, God longs for us to have a relationship with Him.  And sometimes...the only way to be free and delivered from our idols, to redirect our attention to His eyes and our hearts is to have those idols forcibly removed.   Cue COVID-19, and the “shelter-at-home” directive.  I - by law - had to sit hours upon hours in my own apartment...figuring out what I am going to do with myself, as alone.  
     I had a choice.  I could either use this time to call someone, so I could feel like I belonged and loved.  I could go on Facebook, and search out ways to feel like I’m a part of peoples’ lives (ironically, in past years, I have come to the realization that most connections on social media are superficial).  I could also sulk in my angst of being alone.  As a Christian, I know I shouldn’t be dependent on others.  So...I will wallow and complain to God that He isn’t giving me what (we both know) I want.  Or...in my alone state, rather than focus on my “loss”, I could draw my attention to the One who has been waiting for me to acknowledge that He is always with me.
     I chose to dive in.
*****
     First, I repented for the truth that I substituted other loves to feel like I belonged.  I repented for elevating words from peers higher than the One who made me.  For so long, I have had wounds linger, but I failed to rest in what my Heavenly Father has spoken over me...only believing that the words (or lack of) from the people around me proved my worth.  God had to remind me that to change my beliefs, I must change the way I thought.
     “I love you.  I am with you.  I will not forsake you.  I will meet all of your needs.  I care for you.  I freely forgive you.  I wash you clean.  I will not bring my past against you.  I delight in you.  I am for you.  I surround you with my angels.  I watch over you.  You are beautiful.  You have worth.  I want you.  I claim you as My own.”
     As I sat, writing all the things He was telling me, I found that my soul was immediately finding peace.  These are words explicitly stated in Scripture directly to me.  I might have been alone in my apartment.  My emotions may tempt me to believe that I am forgotten.  However, the truth was that God never left me.  He was, and has always been with me!  I have always been a daddy’s girl...and in the last month, God has been showing me that I am His Daddy’s girl.    
     I grew up with a wonderful dad.  And moving away, that relationship has been something I have missed.  As a little girl, I had a need for a father, and my dad met that need.  Now that I was no longer in the house I grew up, I had an emotional void that I sought to fill.  The sense of belonging, being loved and protected was something my heart wanted to restore.
     However, God wanted me to understand that He would pick up where my dad had left off.  He will be the Father that won’t ever leave me.  And no matter the miles that may separate me from my earthly father; my heavenly Father would never leave me, and would forever stay near.  He is ever present.  
     Will I allow my soul to continually rest in this Truth?  Will I seek Him first and most...teaching my heart to be satisfied in Jesus?  The key is to turn my eyes and heart to Him.  As I become more intimately acquainted with Him, all other idols will fall away, naturally.  Furthermore, as my desire for others will wane, my desire for God will grow.
*****
     A couple weeks ago, the weather was gorgeous.  Despite the shelter-in-place, sometimes, the mountains beckon to be explored nonetheless.  It was a Sunday, and I wanted to answer the call.  But, based on family and life experience, I wanted to share this adventure with someone.  I phoned a close friend to see if they could join.  My friend was busy working on something else.  Then the question was, would I still answer the call that I was given?
     I admit; I started to pout.  It’s not that I couldn’t do the adventure myself.  It was just that I have always done it with family.  So, I wanted to have that experience.  However, because my hope for a “family day hike” was not met, I was disappointed.  I got in the car and drove to the high school to settle for the walking path.
     “Go to East Glacier.”
     I drove to the Browning high school.  I parked in a corner in the far-end of the parking lot, and just sat there.  I was complaining.  “God, I just wanted to do this with family.”  After sitting a little while, I was tired of sulking.  Turning the key into the ignition, I went on ahead to East Glacier.  My intention was to go to the Glacier Lodge and journal.  However, when I went by, their gates were locked.  I wondered where else to park (note: I was looking for a safe, easy, place to park and mind my own).
     “Go on ahead to Two Med.”
     Surprised at my willingness to follow this Voice, I dove on.  This time in exploring an adventure, on my own.  
     Correction.  I wasn’t alone.  
     Jesus was in the car with me.  Long story short - after I arrived at the locked gate up by the Two Medicine entry, I parked along the side of the snow banks, rolled down the window of my car, and listened.  I heard the wind blow through the trees.  Sky blue, and the sun shown.  The air was clean.  Being surrounded by trees, my heart was at rest.  My soul was at peace.  I was in the perfect spot, and taking out my journal and Bible, this adventure was designated to be family time with my Father.  
     To think I would have missed out...if I succumbed to the old expectation that adventures required another human to stand beside me.  And yet, if I depend on other people for my calling, I will cease to depend on God.  Opposingly, the less I depend on people for my soul’s satisfaction, the more I can depend on the One who destined me in the first place.
     #Love2020 is something new, and though it’s the fifth month in the year, I am only digging in layer by layer.  As I learn to trust God with my heart, I can rest in His love.  Moreover, the next step is to return the love He has given me.  Not out of an effort to earn His grace.  But to be a friend to the Friend of sinners.  Studying Moses’ life (who was called a friend of God), I found that there was more evidence that he sought God’s heart, rather than wanting God to fill his own personal desires.  To be a friend of God means not only entrusting your heart to Him, but exchanging your intentions for what is God’s longing.  So counterintuitive of the Western world’s perspective on the purpose of God.
     But that brings us back to the essence of worship.  Our hearts are created for worship.  We will elevate and attribute worth to someone or something.  I wonder...how many of us claim to know Jesus, but like myself, unknowingly, worship ourselves and seek God for the comfort of our minds, rather than the surrendering of our entire beings?  We have learned to be content in our present circumstances, as long as God would just let us revel in their pleasures.  Our souls rest in glory.  Nonetheless, furthermore, and most importantly, it is Christ’s glory, not our own, that brings the greatest contentment.  Will we choose to continually drink of this Living Water?  Only then will we see that satisfaction fulfilled.  After all, we were made for Him. 


Friday, April 10, 2020

A Different Narrative

  To Whom this May Concern:
     Around this hour, millions are gathering their memories to recognize the person of Jesus.  Perhaps you know the story. Maybe you know the Man. That is all well and good, but I am here to tell a different narrative.  One, you might be tempted to call fiction. Before you run - I promise - it will be worth your time. No need for my name. If I were to mention it, you would listen no more.  But I assure you. What I have to say is worth pondering.      
     I was one of the disciples.  A key player, if you will. Traveled with Jesus for three years.  I saw His miracles. I heard His teachings. I walked in His wonders, and came to profess that He was the coming Messiah.  For three years, He preached a new kingdom was to come. And for three years, we waited for this coming redemption. Our hearts burned with anticipation, as we waited to see our enemies overthrown; justice from our God on high come into reality.  For three years, He challenged all that we knew. He underscored all that our rabbis had taught us when we were boys. Aimed not at the work of our hands, but the motives of our hearts.
     Before I get ahead of myself, I would like to share where I came from.  I was a true Israelite. A boy raised in the Judaian faith; a scholar of the Holy Scriptures.  I knew my way backward and front what YAWH wanted of us. I was dutiful in the sacraments, and faithfully honored all the offerings that were required of us.  I was a good boy. As I became a man, I acquired a skill in accounting; money lending was my game. Throughout my life, I made good use of it. I was also aware of the social and political atmosphere of my country.  It was no news that Gentiles from the west came and demanded our allegiance. Their history was one of conquering, and we were next on the list. I, as many of my peers, wished to deny them of this “right.” Some decided to become political rebels, silent sympathizers, others out-right terrorists.  All justified in my book. When Jesus came onto the scene, I hoped - as any other honest Jewish man would admit - that He would be the answer to our long-awaited prayers of freedom. 
     We all claimed Him to be the coming Savior.  Some openly said that they would die with Him, if He were to be killed.  But on that fateful night, none of us stood the temptation to stand with Him in His suffering.  Every one of us deserted Him. Every one of us...in our own ways... betrayed Him. You can’t point your fingers at only a few.  We were all guilty. When His body was given over to be abused, we ran. When He took His final breath, we looked on from afar. And until Sunday morning, we lived in fear of Rome's and the religious rulers’ retribution. 
     Sunday came, nonetheless.  I am ashamed to say that I was not eager to jump at the message of Jesus’ return.  I believed my ears had failed me hearing these news. I thought with His death, that was the end of His kingdom.
     Yet, there was Jesus!  In front of us!  
     He beckoned to feed His sheep.  He charged us to share the message of His salvation; not one of earthly glory, but a catechism of the soul, based on His death for our humanity.  I admit, after all that had happened, I saw myself inadequate. Who was I - one who denied Jesus my heart just a few days before - to share the gospel?  Could I really be of any good in sharing my story?
     There was a dormant darkness that no one discerned.  It was only revealed on that night. The weight of what I had done...You can only imagine.  He called me friend, and I betrayed Him.  He wanted me to know Him, and I ran away from all that I confessed as true.  However...it is because of this darkness, that I now know who I honestly was.  It didn’t matter now how well I kept the Law...the desires of my heart spoke other than who I claimed to worship.  
     And yet...after Easter morn, Jesus sought me out.  He sought ME out. He knew my grave sin, and yet, He still loved me.  How could He? My face could not hide my remorse, and yet, His eyes were filled with grace.  “I forgive you.” Me?  
     Yes.  
     For this was the reason for which the Son of Man was turned over to be crucified.  That the weight of all sin could be laid upon Him. The righteousness of God could be made manifest in our souls, if we would just believe, and receive His grace in His name.  Jesus. Immanuel. God with us. Messiah. Savior for all.  
     Every justification I made of my own person was shattered in the glory of Jesus’ sacrifice.  Every ounce of goodness was - as Isaiah stated - filthy rags. I had nothing, nor was I anyone when Jesus came to me after His resurrection.  But His forgiveness set me free. I was no longer bound to who I once was, or what I had done. It no longer defined me. I was a changed man.
     The other disciples called me zealous.  A bit radical. Perhaps it’s because of my violent past.  But if you carried the guilt that I had, would you suffice for any other grace than the one that God gives?  How could you?  
     I traveled the seas, and shared my story with different groups of people.  That was slightly out of my comfort zone, as I realized my hatred toward Romans, politically, had developed a racist belief subsequently. Where I once was judgmental, I learned to extend mercy. God had healed my wounds, hallelujah.   I had the most opportunities with Jewish people, however, who highly depended on the Law of the Old Covenant to restore their souls.   
     Many religious leaders knew of my past.  After all, many were allies of mine in my former life.  I walked with them. Prayed with them and plotted with them.  The change they saw in me perplexed few; angered most. I was often hunted down by those I once called brothers, because they could not understand why I would forsake everything for a man who claimed to God.  How could I believe in such a blasphemous statement?
     I wasn’t a great speaker or writer.  I was only a man with a prideful past and scarring sin that proved I no longer could trust in my own efforts and goodness.  Studying the Scriptures, I knew that what Jesus had only fulfilled every prophecy declared; not to make mockery. He is the Messiah! And His forgiveness freed me! I knew His love to be genuine.  If He could forgive me of my sin, I knew the world, too, could be redeemed.
      My life was threatened.  But I did not care. It had been threatened before...If you had done what I did, wouldn’t you have tried to seek death’s hope?  But by the amazing wonder of God…



     By now, you probably are wondering who I am, or if my story is true.  Sadly, I was not restored, as I could only yearn. This letter serves as a memento of what I wish could have been.  It is true all the disciples betrayed Jesus, that night. It just so happened, I was the first. (If you were still wondering who I am, I think I have made it very clear, by now.)  
     I betrayed Him.  I was the reason for which Jesus was whipped and bloodied.  Beaten beyond recognition. I was the reason why He was sold for pride.  What was an exchange of a few coins worth? I believed that Jesus failed me.  He did not save Israel in the way I expected. However, the cost of momentary justification proved a consequence too much to bear.  Not even the priests offered intercession.
     I sold out a Man’s life, when He had done nothing wrong.
     And there, I stood facing the reality that any goodness of myself assured was shattered in the moment my wickedness was revealed.  All this time, I sought out hatred toward a human enemy, not knowing there was an enemy far greater than men dressed in metal. And that enemy made his home within me.  My miserable soul was in turmoil, and the only rest I could find was in a field of blood; and worse…
     It has been recorded that it would have been better if I had never been born.  I wonder, if Jesus said this, not because I couldn’t be saved, but He knew beforehand, I wouldn’t.  You see, in the hour of my dissoluteness, I succumbed to my grief. So stuck on justifying myself, I did so.  When my true nature had manifested, I knew the sin had to be ransomed. I made sure that happened.
     Unaware to my soul, God meant for Jesus to die.  The prophet not only mentions the filthiness of our righteousness, but he mentioned that a Messiah would come...beaten and bruised.  It would be for our healing and all of history’s iniquity would be laid upon Him. The sacrifices of old would be no more, because God was interweaving a new covenant bound on His own righteousness and merit, rather than our own.  Oh, how I wished I would’ve known! Simultaneous to the hour of my depravity, Jesus was at work for my salvation. MY salvation! He wanted and loved me just as any human. I couldn’t see it. I wouldn’t believe His grace was enough for a wretch like me!   Christ’s sacrifice; God’s love and forgiveness was available for the taking, if only I had grasped onto the truth!    
     Alas, it was not so.  
     Do not mourn for me.  Nothing more can be done.  However, there is time for you, if you will heed.  In the presence of Holiness, all virtue that you may hold will shrivel into nothingness.  Nevertheless, do not be swayed to continue striving for heaven’s gates. Redemption is not yours to make.  Mentioned thus, in your repentance, do not sink into condemnation. The price of your sin has already been paid.  If only you would believe and receive. Truth is, it may have been my hand that turned Jesus over to be crucified, but all of us had a cause for His death.  Yet, it delighted the Father to put Jesus to death, so that He could be the firstborn Son of many.
     It is too late for me.  But, I implore...do what I failed to do. Believe in Jesus’ sacrifice.  Seize onto the love God has for you, and receive His forgiveness. Become a child of the Most High.  
     Change your narrative.

-Ju
das Iscariot