Selfish Motives Behind Missions

      Where do I begin?  Sitting to write all that has transpired in my heart in the last couple of months, I am found with a deep sense of remorse.  In the new lessons learned, I can’t help but reflect on my former years in ministry…and realizing how much I failed miserably.  Of course, from the outside, anyone would point out my readiness for servanthood and my loyalty to students and friends.  But what was it all for?  What really was my motive for leaving my hometown for another place?  Yes, Jesus was preached.  However, it would be more honest to say that in the midst of people accepting the gospel, if there was to be any credit given, then I wanted to make sure (or hoped it would be, at least) my name would be mentioned.  Though Jesus was proclaimed, a selfishness full of pride was my motivation.     I remember being a teenager and praying that God would send me to the “forgotten ones”, because it seemed like everyone else wanted to go to China and Africa.  “Doesn’t God want other parts of the world to hear about and come to know Jesus?”  I know what it feels like to be left out or chosen last.  I know what it feels like to be criticized and told only negative things.  I know what it feels like to be underestimated.  I know what it feels like to have the good things in me taken for granted.  I know what it feels like to be forgotten.     Empathy is not a bad starting point in seeing how God may direct our lives.  In fact, more often than not, Christians are more likely to minister to those who come from the same background or have similar stories.  Nevertheless, empathy without freedom lays a foundation in mutual lamentation that lacks a resolution.  And though I could say I did a good work on the Rez, I wonder how much of the work I did was actually dead, because I failed to make Jesus the center of it all.     Honestly, I think I spent more energy praying that my community would drop their addictions.  I hoped that my teens would learn to hold off on sex until marriage.  I wanted them to make sure their lives were better.  As if that was the end goal?!  But how much of that was good, but it wasn’t God?  Don’t get me wrong.  All those things are great aspirations, but in the realm of eternity, it was SO missing the point!!!  When it came to preaching about Jesus, I would encourage my youth to make sure they read their Bibles, pray and share about their faith with their friends.     But what faith did they really have?!  Let’s be honest.  We live in a nation where Jesus is the name of a good luck charm.  And if you have dealt with a lot of trauma, then the desire for change is of the utmost importance.  Jesus saves us from sin?  You mean there are consequences to my sin?  Let me clarify, we did preach these things and more.  I did, and still do, have genuine care for my Native friends and family.  However, I remember striving so much in an effort for my teens to have a better life, and I wonder if I compromised their ability to have an actual relationship with Jesus.  Moreover, I know this compromise occurred, because, unbeknownst to me, I ministered with a motive full of pride.  I had a genuine care for the people around me.  But…I also wanted to know I could make a positive difference in the world.     I don’t know what it is.  We want to be heroes.  I am no different.  I grew up with different interests for professions, but they all had one thing in common: I would make a positive impact for the world around me.  Funny thing is, if someone actually has to become a hero, it is often in a time of chaos.  At that moment, the fight/flight/flee system kicks in.  Adrenaline pumps extra oxygen through the body; senses are sharpened to identify possible dangers.  Fear is the primary motivation, and protection is the primary goal.     One way of protecting the self is to make oneself larger than a perceived threat.  In my emotional state, I am guilty of this.  I didn’t aim to go to the Rez, because I thought Natives were a threat.  However, I know now that I was always the first one to volunteer and help, because I “needed” to prove my worth.  I wanted to give a reason to be cherished.  I grew up believing my value was in what I do, so...I did.  And ironically, other life-long fears reared their effect.  And I had no clue.     Why did I want to live in an environment that was highly impoverished? Maybe it wouldn’t be a requirement for questioning, except for the fact that I was willing to help others; however, I wouldn’t dare ask for help for my own needs.  All this time, I thought I was helping people, but in my ability, I was also running away from my own inabilities.  Did I have any evidence of slight racism or bigotry?  At this time, I don’t know.  What I do know now is that in my prideful protection, I may have walked in a patronizing form, as to deny any proof of my own needs.     Growing up, I knew I was prideful.  I knew that I had a tendency to puff myself up.  Get me in a game, and the competition comes out.  I’m ready to kill or be killed (and you better believe it, it’s the former).  It was one of those sins that, though I knew it was deadly, I only saw it as a mere vice.  After all, it was affecting me.  Or so I believed.  It wasn’t until about a month ago that I realized the extent of pain I caused others, due to my pride.     Interning in Spokane, I thought I would be doing a lot more.  Like, A LOT more.  But here I am, cleaning toilets, and what other work I do is behind the scenes.  I wanted to do outreach, but I felt like God wanted me to go a different direction.  “I want you to do worship.”  Here’s the funny thing.  I am not on the worship team.  I hoped that maybe I could clean toilets during the week and help sing on Sundays.  And like God does with pride, He set me straight pretty fast.  “Why?  Is cleaning toilets not enough for you?” Ouch, Daddy.  That hurt.  In time, I am finding that the worship God wants me to develop during my internship is that of my heart.  Nevertheless, there is that pride that still haunts my motives for ministry, at all.     I never thought myself to be patronizing.  Without a backbone or boundaries, I understand how my people-pleasing enabled unhealthy habits.  However, I wouldn’t have categorized myself as looking down on others.  When someone was in a bind, I sympathized with them and would help as needed.     Unfortunately, I am realizing I make myself helpful, even when I am not needed.  One of the first people I met in church (Spokane) was a blind woman.  And can you believe I moved the trash basket to “help” her?  She had to tell me not to do that, because she knew where to find it on her own.  So, by me moving the bin, I was babying her, and not allowing her to take care of herself.   I wonder how often I have done similar things.  How often I have counseled when I should have listened?  How often did I implore sobriety when it wasn’t even their desire?  How often did I try to parent children that were not my own?  How often did I try to encourage self-help strategies without mentioning that it is Jesus who enables, empowers and strengthens us to do His will?  And how often did I jump into something with a solution before praying that the Holy Spirit would enter the situation?     As I look back on my time on the Rez, were there any seeds that actually will grow into godly (good) fruit?  Ah, the pain that is in my heart!  I tried to carry a God-size responsibility on my human-size shoulders.  And all because I spent my adolescence and adulthood running away from my own weaknesses!  Because as much as I cared for other people, I wouldn’t dare let them know my own crap.  Even as I write, I am still guarded.     I still self-protect, because I have learned that I need to care for others, and it is selfish to admit my needs.  Yet, in believing that ideology, I have built a wall in receiving God’s love for me.  As long as I have these walls, then I will perpetuate the biased view that those less fortunate than myself somehow need my help.  As if my help is what will save them.  And save them from what, exactly?  Let’s be serious.  So much of work in an impoverished community is about how we can make their lives better.     But if a family remained poor, is it possible to be wealthy in the kingdom of heaven?  If someone gives up their drugs, is it possible to fall for another addiction?  If a person never broke sexual immorality boundaries, could they still be absent from receiving love? Could you have everything right, and still have everything wrong?  Could a wealthy man find himself in need of assistance with rent?  Could hopelessness be found among the affluent alongside the impoverished?  Could you have everything and still be lost?     The matter is not where one does ministry.  Each of us are going to be called to our separate spheres.  However, especially among those of us who do work with communities with noticeable needs, I am learning to become more hesitant to point out what they need.  To restate, I am not advocating to leave the poor as destitute and fail to supply for needs.  What I am advocating is that we stop earmarking ministry as serving those less fortunate than us.  Because the truth is, the lost are everywhere.  They can be found anywhere.  We were once them. And what they need most is Jesus.  There is such a focus on morality, that morality has become a god for us.  It has become a standard by which we determine that we must be on the right trail.  However, many have done “good things” and have missed it, because they don’t have a relationship with Jesus (see Matthew 7:21-23).     Recently, I went on a prayer drive in the neighborhood my Spokane church is based (Hillyard).  I know what is said about this place.  It is one of the worst neighborhoods in the city.  And yet, on that drive, I felt like God spoke two direct things concerning how to pray.  “Do not judge a house by its cover.  Do not pray prayers based on stereotypes.”  That doesn’t mean that real life issues won’t come up and be addressed.  But I am becoming more convinced that God is wanting the priority to be that people come to know Him.  Where my focus is will direct my prayers and my hands-on involvement.  (When I feed the hungry, am I trying to give them relief, or am I trying to show that Jesus loves and cares about them?)     I don’t know if I will ever go back to the Rez.  I would like to.  I miss my Native people.  In light of this revelation, I realize how wrong I have been concerning ministry.  I am so sorry that I ever made it about me.  What the heck was I thinking?  Honestly!  Should I move on from the Rez?  Some people may say so.  I have even had to let it go in this season, because God wanted to show me that there are people all over the place who need Him.  But I remember my desire for the forgotten ones.  Maybe I’m drawn to the destitute places, because, in reality, I want to share with them that Jesus has never forgotten them.  We may forget, but He has remembered.  However, before I can go back - if that is God’s plan for my life - I know that I must also believe for myself that He loves me.  He values me.  And my worth is not determined by what I can do.  Until that is grounded into my identity, I have no business in relaying a gospel my mind doesn’t comprehend as truth; although, my heart knows it is so.
   

The Lie of a "Good Christian"

Saved by faith.  Maintained through grace.  That is the game.  However, how many of us Christians determine if we are “good”, based on what we do or fail to do?  I can’t tell you how many times a family member has told me I’m such a “good” Christian, because of how much I read my Bible, for how involved I am in church, how often I pray, and how little I cuss.  Oh, if they only knew the truth! Yes, I read my Bible daily.  Yes, I try to be involved in as much as I can be when it comes to church gatherings and events.  I participate in my Bible studies.  But prayer - if I am stressed, how little I actually pray.  And as for colorful language?  Well, stress also has its influence.  The truth is, none of this matters if we are going to determine the goodness of a Christian.  Frankly, our goodness never began with us.  And therefore, it does not end with us.     The perpetuation that what makes a Christian “good” is by how much they can do for God is ludicrous.  It puts certain believers on a pedestal and for those who are on those pedestals, the pressure to never sin or make a mistake is surmountable.  For if one thinks that a person is good by how much they can do for God, then what does that say if sin is present in their lives?  Are they a liar? Or is the system actually a lie in of itself?  Paul wrote, “O foolish Galatians!  Who has bewitched you that you should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ was clearly portrayed among you as crucified? This only I want to learn from you: Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith?  Are you so foolish?  Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh…just as Abraham ‘believed God, and it was accounted to him for righteousness.’  Therefore know that only those who are of the faith are sons of Abraham (Galatians 3:1-3, 6-7). The Galatians were Christians - who believed Jesus died for them - but, because of a circulating lie - came to believe that they had to do certain things to sustain their faith.  I want to clarify - in no way am I suggesting that we, as grace-filled Christians, should make the assumption that we are able to do whatever the heck we want without consequence (see Romans 6:1-7; 1 Corinthians 10:23-33) or that it’s okay to approve of sinful behavior (see Galatians 5:16-26).  What I have become increasingly intolerant of is the matter that many Christians have defined their status with God based on what they can do, rather than the actual work of Jesus. Yes, we need to be obedient to what God has said.  Yes, we need to take the steps to develop a relationship with Him that encompasses a daily walk.  Knowing God is more than just a once in a while or once a week.  But our status as a “good Christian” is based on the work enabled and empowered by the Holy Spirit.   After all, with Him, there would be no goodness in us found.  As pointed out by the prophet Isaiah, any good act we try to do was as filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6) The truth is any works apart from Christ is dead.  And any effort to earn God’s favor based on the amount of “Christian” or “church” things we can do are misleading.  It takes our eyes off the actual Gospel. “I fear, lest somehow, as the serpent deceived Eve by his craftiness, so your minds may be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ.  For if he who comes preaches another Jesus whom we have not preached, or if you receive a different spirit which you have not received, or a different gospel which you have not accepted - you may well put up with it…I marvel that you are turning away so soon from Him who called you in the grace of Christ to a different gospel, which is not another; but there are some who trouble you and want to pervert the gospel of Christ.  But even if we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel to you than what we have preached to you, let him be accursed [condemned to destruction]!  As we have said before, so now I say it again, if anyone preaches any other gospel to you than what you have received, let him be accursed.  For do I now persuade men or God?  Or do I seek to please men?  For if I still pleased men, I would not be a bondservant of Christ.” - Apostle Paul (2 Corinthians 11:3-4; Galatians 1:6-10). Modern Christianity has bought into the lie that one must be productive and busy in order to be a “good Christian”.  This would go into a longer discussion, but one can be doing the “right” stuff, and still be missing the mark, because it is work that wasn’t ordained by God.  Busy does not equate fruitfulness.  Attendance does not equate faithfulness.  Vasts of knowledge does not equate knowing God intimately.  We need to stop aiming to be “good” Christians, as if our goodness is dependent on us.  The righteousness we have is ONLY because of what Jesus has done on the cross. Now, the health of our relationship with Jesus can be affected by how much we put into it.  It is similar to how we build relationships with other people.  On this note, be encouraged that a relationship doesn’t require body-building levels of community service.  It doesn’t require memorizing the Bible and becoming a living Encyclopedia.  It doesn’t mean one has to be available to the public 100% of the time, or hours of endless intercession.  It doesn’t mean having to attend every event or volunteer for every ministry.  Actually, when it comes to calling (an extension of this subject), it is important to know how God has fashioned and fitted you.  In summation, if one wants to determine that they are a good Christian, it is only by understanding that it isn’t by how much one can do, but rather by the strength of the relationship we have with Jesus.

Lessons from The Crown

      There’s an allure concerning royalty. The public loves to mock the idea of a continuing monarchy, but simultaneously, holds a level of awe and respect for one who holds that position.  Moreover, there is the occasional fantasy of what it would be like to be one of the royals (or part of their family).  What is it about royalty - and more specifically, the British family - that captures our attention so?  Perhaps it is the wealth, prestige, influence?  Maybe it’s the scandal.  Diana Spencer - more properly known as Princess Diana - has been dead for a little more than 25 years, but we still cannot get over idolizing her in the public eye.  Furthermore, as Charles has become king, the world (or at least Americans) cannot get enough of reminding him how horrendous he was - and must still be - due to his infidelity.  The Crown is a dramatized biopic on the reign of Queen Elizabeth II.  In season 5, she must address the breakdown of her family’s marriage on a personal and political level.     In watching this season, I couldn’t help but reflect on expectations of duty, honor and family reflected in the first few episodes.  Disclaimer:  I have heard that the show aimed to be more historically accurate, however, in the fifth season, they used a lot of creative liberties.  This might be due to the fact that much of what is seen was probably witnessed by one person, or these people have since died before anything could be confirmed.  I am not claiming that the following examples are true in its account.  In fact, they may all be fictionalized.  However, in The Crown’s portrayal, I found I may understand a little of the complexities of being a part of the royal family.   

Poster advertising for The Crown, Season 5

    Lessons from The Crown (Season 5):
1) Even the Queen wasn’t immune from mistakes.  There were moments that Queen Elizabeth had asked for something to be done.  Nay.  She didn’t just ask.  She sometimes demanded, based on her position of sovereignty.  Queen Elizabeth II is sometimes seen as an untouchable person (the fact that she died (though being 98 years old) still surprised most of the world).  Maybe she was the next closest thing to God, Himself.  We forget that she was human.  And though she aimed to influence with honesty and humility, it doesn’t mean she got it right all the time.  I actually find comfort in this fact.  So often, I have felt an immense internal pressure to be perfect.  Of course, friends and family are quick to say, “No one’s perfect.”  But what if I was in Queen Elizabeth’s position?  The higher the pedestal, the greater the influence, the heavier the weight to never fail.  No one can live under that expectation and seeing this failing in Queen Elizabeth’s portrayal only reminds me that instead of judging politicians and leaders, maybe I should pray.  If I want mercy when I make a mistake, perhaps they do, as well.  It’s high time we stop worshiping people in high level positions.  
2) Consideration for grace and truth when the family is falling apart.  When Elizabeth’s childrens’ were divorcing, she was appalled at the notion, and demanded that they reconsider.  As a Christian, I can empathize with her outcry.  Divorce is disgusting, because it damages the family unit.  God meant for marriage to last.  Nevertheless, Queen Elizabeth demanded something that was not in her realm of control (no matter the expectations of royalty).  I know how easy it is to want to control something in someone else’s life, because what is being desired is unhealthy or ungodly.  And yet, I am not God.  I cannot change someone’s heart or behavior, and therefore, the best thing I can do is pray for the person.  I can walk with the person.  Speak truth but it’s so important to surround them with grace and love.  In The Crown, Charles and Anna seemed like they were being made to feel that not only are they failing their individual families, but their mother and the entire country by divorcing.  Would empathy have changed their situations?  Maybe, maybe not.  But in navigating such a painful situation, I believe grace would have fostered reconciliation, rather than resentment. 
3) The sanctity of marriage should have been fought for more than the public image.  I find it odd that the royal establishment would oppose divorce in the name of public image but would turn a blind eye to any form of infidelity.  This notion wasn’t just shared in The Crown.  In The King’s Speech, the future King George VI is speaking to his brother that he shouldn’t marry his mistress in order to keep up the image, but he could “keep her on the side” (marrying a divorced individual was NO BUENO!)  To reiterate my second point, marriage IS meant to be sacred.  However, requiring individuals to stay in an unhealthy marriage for the sake of saving face is only going to perpetuate the problem.  Anna divorced because she was cheated on.  Charles had cheated on Diana.  Even on a biblical basis, these divorces were allowed.  Would it have been great for the couples to go to counseling and heal?  Absolutely!  But it is important to take the necessary steps to actually heal rather than cover it up in the name of “God doesn’t like divorce” and hope for the best.
4) One cannot love and care for others beyond what love has been received.  According to The Crown, Diana didn’t seem to understand the position of royalty vs. family dynamics.  The public knows how empathetic and kind Diana was, however, there was simultaneously a yearning to be loved by her in-laws.  In the show, she then sulks and turns inward.  Searching to be loved, and pleading with family members, she became the victim.  On one hand, I understand that it wasn’t really about Diana.  The focus of the royal family was to support the Queen.  However, I disagreed with the Duke of Edinburgh when he told her that when Diana wanted a family centered approach, she misunderstood the expectation.  At some level, politics are politics, but family is family.  And if someone doesn’t know they are loved, then the compassion they have for others will stall.  I’ve learned this the hard way.  I poured out so much wanting affirmation and love from the people I was giving my attention to, but in the end, because I wasn’t finding my source of love from Someone who can always give it, I turned inward and fell into depression.  Diana did the same, and also became involved in adultery before her divorce.  Personally, I am learning that I MUST find my satisfaction from Jesus, first.  People will have expectations, or in their own short-sightedness or selfishness, leave me.  Will I be defined by their love?  If so, then I will become a victim and become selfish in how I serve people.  But, if I know that God’s love for me will never end, even if my heart is broken, I can still love others in the way that He does.
5) Even the bad ones can still do good things.  One of the most shocking things I found in The Crown, frankly, was finding out all the charity work that Charles emphasized back in the 90s.  We hear so much of his infidelity to Diana and how horrible a person he was, that many people across the pond probably don’t know about the things he did for disenfranchised youth (i.e., The Prince’s Trust, which was begun in 1976). 
    That last point is something I want to weigh in, considering the real King Charles III.  As he will assume the throne, much of his reign will fall in speculation, because of his failure with Diana.  I have never seen anyone applaud Camilla as an option for Queen Consort.  As this transition occurs, the world seems to only find criticism.  In doing this, we are sinning against Charles and Camilla. 
    We are holding onto an offense that is not ours to judge.  Yes, Diana was an amazing woman.  Yes, she served the people graciously.  Yes, Charles should have cut it off with Camilla.  But can we please stop acting like their sin was against us?  Their sin was against their families, against each other, and most of all, to God.  I wish we could say we could change the past, but we can’t.  And so, we must look forward.  How may we extend mercy to the royals?  After all, if any of us ever committed adultery and repented, wouldn’t we want a chance for a blank slate?
    I don’t know if Charles and Camilla know Jesus.  I don’t know if they have repented.  I hope they have.  It doesn’t make sense to call for their divorce now that they are married, but I pray they apologize to God, and to their family members.  Frankly, I desire reconciliation in their family more than a public apology.  After all, they didn’t sin against me.  I am not one of their subjects.  And even if I was, the divorce primarily affects their family, not me (if Diana hadn’t died, I bet she would have still done charity work within her realm of influence).  If there is anything that can summarize lessons from The Crown, it is this: No person is perfect.  We all have sinned and need Jesus to redeem us of our wrongdoings and to empower us to reconcile with our families.  As Christians, may we extend this truth to those who need it.  Including King Charles and Queen Consort Camilla.

The Masquerade

Proffering the pauper
Delicately dressed
As to adorn the poor
As one of the rich.
Elegantly arrayed for the dance,
With nothing but the eyes
Be seen.

Knowledge of the steps
Memories of the minute balls
None could fathom the form
I found as my face.
A phantom in plain sight.
Did any want to know
The broken behind the beauty?

I smile wonderfully
But lost my footing.
A little thing
Unless you knew 
How many times
I have fallen.

As long as I
Annunciate the diction,
As long as I
Cover my face,
You won't know
The hell I can bring
To my own soul.
Remove the veil,
Reveal the facade.
There's more to the music
Than an angel's chord.

Beneath the mask
Bears the marks borne
From another's verbal hand.
Scars wrought in
Self-inflicted wounds
Disclose the hope
In status gained
By the world's symphony.

I succumbed to the hypnosis
Of the concerto.  Shame
Found its pride when authenticity,
In the name of validity,
Was celebrated as intimacy.

Why did I prostrate my soul
Before an audience
Whose harmonies never satisfy?
Paper faces scorched;
A new Soliloquy sung:
I am known.  Loved.
Whilst I dance with Him,
I am healed.

"Masquerade", Phantom of the Opera, 2005

Redemption's Restoration

My soul was made
For Eden.
Destined to rest 
In Your presence,
I was created to be loved
And love the One
Who knows me intricately.

A wretched hurricane
Collided into Paradise.
Smothered in filth and debris,
My only shelter
Dirty rags.

I thought if I scrubbed
The sin off my flesh,
Maybe if I just bled,
It would be enough.
Yet, even after my baptism,
I remained as dark
As before;
Infected with its insidious mold.

I believed in Your name,
Yet, I held onto my own ways.
Freed from my prison,
But I still carried 
The chains.

What could I say 
To prove I was changed?
My words only refreshed
For a moment.
What could I do?
My actions only made
Room to walk
Through, never
Eliminate, the mess.

There is blood
Holier than mine.
Whose drops seep
In between the grains
Of wood, perspiring
New life with every touch
Reached.

The crimson flow
Made white
The hazardous waste
That encapsulated my home.
His love without boundaries;
His righteousness without mar;
His power without end
Cleansed me and clothed me new.

The clout of 
Wickedness gone.
The memory of 
Sin's stain
With time, is lost.

Forgiveness - A Work of Jesus

     Forgiveness is one of those things that as a Christian, you'd think it would be easy, but it still can be one of the most complex - yet simple - parts of faith. As humans, not only are we to forgive, but after an offense, then we have to wrestle with the next step of trust. "Okay, so I forgave this person. Does that mean I have to trust them again?" Forgiveness and trust are not the same thing. And yet, repeatedly in Scripture, I find that God so easily forgives. Someone is caught in their sin, they apologize, and God commends them for turning back to Him.
     I wonder if why I struggle with forgiveness (and trust) after an offense, but God can just remove it from His sight as far as the east is from the west, is because...He knows that His Holy Spirit has the power to enact the change needed to transition from "repent" to "turn from the wicked ways". In our humanity, we cannot. But He can. (That is why time is required, after a wrong, to build trust in human relationships. As for a relationship with Jesus, it is more automatic.)     
     Forgiveness is foundational to the Christian faith, and yet, if I was honest, I got sucked into the rope that I had to prove my repentance by charging myself to obey and do the right thing. Good idea, except...I'm not Jesus and I can't carry His grace without Him. Doing good things without Jesus' leading or empowerment is just works...and experience has proven that as adamant as I am about becoming a godly person, when I get ahead of His work, I fall right back to the old ways and mindsets.
     But what an amazing thing that it is Jesus who does the work! So often, I read in the Old Testament concerning the righteous and wicked, and wondered if I could be the latter. If people really knew me, they would know how much I actually struggle and fall. But while reading Micah, it finally hit me. God wasn't describing the wicked as the ones who sought after Him, would periodically fall into sin but repented. The wicked were the ones who desired evil but did sacrifices just to save their butts. Maybe they even looked holier than the saints, because they hid their sins. But the righteous...it's not always an absence of doing wrong. Boy, do I wish it was. Nevertheless, the righteous, when sin is confronted, run to Jesus and repent. They trust in Him to do the work...and God is faithful to complete it.
     So, when I find myself fallen, may I instinctively run to the One who can make me new. (Micah 7:18-20)

A Matter of Trust

      A year of internal healing has commenced, and so, I began my internship with the expectation that I would be able to jump in and start learning and doing ministry again.  However, in the quiet moments, I have found how broken I still really am.  During worship, I glanced at my new friends - still in their early 20s - freely worshiping with all abandonment.  I thought I trusted in Jesus.  I know He is my Savior and Lord.  But there is a heartache that doesn’t allow Him in when I am in need.     I have been bad at that.  Allowing myself to be in need.  Because being in need means putting a burden on someone by which it isn’t their responsibility to carry.  But when I have had my own questions, I didn’t find myself the room where I could ask.  So, I would silently cry.  I would wrestle in secret.  The thoughts - and the emotional and spiritual scars - I have carried are more than what acquaintances would configure me having.     It isn’t a secret that the topic of healing has been a recurring theme and question.  However, with every battle that I faced, I learned a little more that God’s goodness doesn’t fail to sustain.  Many times, I don’t necessarily get an answer to “Why didn’t You heal,” except for a response of, “Will you trust that I am good?”     Trust.  So easy for a child.  But when faith has been beaten down, trust can seem like a distant hope.  Especially, when you grew up in a church that claimed all the healing verses for a pastor, sick with cancer, and yet, he died.  And when we begged God for a physical resurrection, it didn’t happen.  The little thing that people would know about me… I didn't realize that when Pastor Steve died 16 years ago, his death affected my ability to trust in God’s goodness.  Nay…not that.      I stick with Jesus, because I know He’s good.  But I have had trouble consistently believing that God would heal, or that He would raise the dead (especially, when cancer is involved).  I have taught myself to pray for someone from a distance, because failure to see any immediate change would - I was convinced - put the reputation of Jesus in jeopardy.  I could pray for someone who’s a Christian, because I was assured that their faith wouldn’t deplete when a desired outcome wasn’t seen.     I have been convinced that someone’s healing was dependent on me.  I learned this when I would go up to the altar for my own healing…and not seeing anything, would be told that I just needed to have faith.  I just needed to receive it.  When Pastor Steve died, comments were made that he may have died, because we didn’t pray enough.  And when he died and didn’t raise from the dead, I didn’t give myself time to mourn.  I became fixated on making sure my mind didn’t question the goodness of God.  Furthermore, when I had family who had their own questions surrounding the pain, I had to become the backbone to hold them together.     I knew that Pastor Steve is still a painful component in my life (I still find myself having tears when I mention him), but I never took stock that it had affected my faith.  After all, sixteen years later, I am still holding onto Jesus.  However, every death that followed, burying someone was another gut punch.  “God, how do I get to see You win in this situation?”  Cancer became a curse word.  Despair and chaos looked like normalcy. I thought I was strong, but while holding on, part of me was broken.  I needed to sufficiently mourn and let go of my burden. Truth is, there was a time that I prayed with such great faith.  I knew without any doubt that God had given us promises of His goodness and faithfulness.  And I stood on them firmly.  However, something has occurred over the years.  I have stopped asking, unless it was of immediate importance.  I have simply expected and figured out a way to get what I wished; and when what I hoped for didn’t come to fruit, I became inwardly distraught.  “Will God come through like I need to?”  This is the secret that I've held from public view. I have failed to trust God for the things I needed.  I have failed to trust God that He knew best.  I have failed to trust that God would show His goodness when I needed Him to move.  So, I stopped asking.  Internally, I either demanded, or detached.  It’s no wonder that when God directed me to write a poem about standing on His word and declaring who He is, all that flowed were words expressing my pain.  There was a wall, and it needed to break.      Finally, the dam that burst my secret to the conscious: “If people spent more time asking for My will (in the situation), there would be less pain.  I’m not God just for when I do things according to plan.  And if there is something that goes wrong, it’s not because it's your fault.  Pastor Steve didn’t die just because people didn’t pray enough.” It wasn’t my fault that Pastor Steve died. That was the weight I carried.  That somehow, God’s hand was limited to my ability to pray and ask for things.  Somehow, in the mess of faith in faith (coined by an elder in my Spokane church), I became convinced that if a promise of God did not come in on my timing or in my way, then I believed that God was not for me. I believed that the outcomes of prayer were an indication of His grace for me.  But grace is not grace if it depends on me. God is still God.  He is still good.  But His ways are not my ways.  Therefore, I must consider His vantage point and will.     This isn’t to negate prayer.  This isn’t to forget that there are promises of God to hold onto; certainly, there are.  I do believe that God is sovereign, but He also chooses to partner with His Church to bring about His will.  But I am learning there is a difference between asking God to move and demanding how He should move.  I think it’s okay to recognize a testimony and ask God if He can do the same work on a personal level.  It is okay to read about a miracle in the Bible and implore the Creator to move as He once did.  With intercession, I am learning to see the eternal perspective, not just the finite; humble enough to know that He is Lord, good, and never ceases to be such.      This is one aspect of breaking through in trusting God for me.  In writing the following poem, I had to pause, because I have found that my heart is jaded concerning different aspects of the character of Jesus. There is much pain I have forgotten.  But I am learning to trust again, one step at a time.

“Standing on Your Word”

My heart has been broken;

My mind scammed.

As death surrounds,

The silence of seemingly

Unanswered prayers haunt my memories.
Hope buried asunder from sight.

Don’t let my heart

Declare You a liar.

It is in the grave that seeds grow.

Protect my heart to hold 

Onto heaven’s truth

After the first hearing -

Long after my mind has forgotten

Based on the first sight

Of hell on earth.

Trauma is great for drama

But living with it tempts faith.

A small light is a great liar

And he convinced me

To believe You were unworthy 

Of my trust.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I must acknowledge my lack

Of understanding which

I so easily professed.

I know You

Are worthy 

Of my praise.

When humanity cries,

I know the answer has already come.

His name is Jesus.

Help me to stand on Your word,

As I wait.

With Your breath

You uttered life.

With every breath I breathe

I admit the One

Who made the complete conglomerate.

You hold all galaxies in Your hand

Yet Your eye is intimately entwined 

With every fiber of creation.

Ushering in a dominion

That brings freedom,

The innocence You hold

Cleanses the soul.

Righteousness wrought in my name 

Fails to compare

To Your benevolence

Which never extends

Into a conclusion.

How lowly my aims

To only see a portion

Of who You are!

If Your mercy was withheld,

Do I not recognize where I’d be?

It was unreserved love

That emboldened Your hand

To be bloodied for me.

Your foresight expands

Beyond my comprehension.

And yet, with a holy graciousness,

My questions never intimidate

Your lordship.

Never promising immediacy,

Yet promising faithfulness,

You invite me to a certainty

Beyond the senses and sentiments.

So…

May the solitary silence

Not produce a fear of insolence.

May it become a reminder

Of the presence of the One

Who is awesome beyond

What language could explore.

As I utter my pleas,

You will speak Your word.

As I wait for Your promises,

More so, I will wait for You.