Everything, all things, must come back to one truth. The gospel truth. All things must be held up to the gospel and whatever doesn't line up must and will fall away. Only one truth speaks all truth. The gospel truth.
...lately I've been thinking A LOT about the gospel. I can look back and see how God has been uprooting shadows of the truth of the gospel from the soil of my heart in order to sew the seeds of the truth of the gospel. And the thing is, before this year, I thought I got it. I thought I knew the gospel...and it was sort of...an old hat. But look at how the Lord can make things new!
In particular, I can look back at the study of Sonship I took part in this summer during CityLights. In my naivity and pride, I know I thought to myself, "Yeah, I get it. I understand," as we talked about Jesus, who he is, who we are, and why he came. ...Over the past 7 months, God uprooted that pride, and I, newly humbled began to understand that, "we [I] can never outgrow the gospel" and its truth.
It's as if God has shifted me somewhere at the core with this, like a rudder on a boat. It's an internal change that's affecting everything I do, say, and believe. It's so good. I rejoice because it's so good. Thank you Jesus.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The grass is greener...
Twice in the last week someone has asked me, "Did you move around a lot when you were younger?". This is a strange question to be asked when the only move I ever made in my life was a 2 mile hop to move into the home my grandparents were leaving behind to move into town. So, why did I get asked that question twice in a week?
Well, it turns out that I act and think a lot like someone who moved around when they were young. I learned that for a long time now, I have felt like I never belong or fit anywhere. Like no one understands me and never will so I'm just not going to give them the chance. But I long to feel like I fit...like I belong somewhere...safe and secure...no longer an orphan. So, when it gets hard, I start dreaming about the next place, thinking maybe it will be better...but I never stick in one place long enough to find out...and the truth is:
I do have a place to belong. There is a place where I fit. I am accepted and acceptable. The truth of the gospel says that.
It's actually a sin when I don't believe that. I haven't felt like myself in months. I've been wrestless...looking for something, someone to belong to, to fit into...and my hunger was never satisfied. But in one breath-taking moment, the light and truth of God's grace, His gospel, my identity in Him changed it all. I realized I could choose to believe the truth of my identity in Christ instead of the lies I'd believed for so long. And because realizing my belief in the power of the lies was a sin, I was suddenly free from their power over me. You see, I thought that the wounds of the past made my insecurities inevitable, but the truth is my belief in the lies that come from those wounds is my choice...which makes it my sin issue. And if it's a sin issue of my own heart instead of ways I sinned against that I can't change and couldn't control, then there is hope! Because then I can repent & believe in the truth of the gospel. I can turn from believing in the lies.
You see, the only greener grass that exists is that grass which is illuminated by the gospel. All other "greener" grass is just a facade. It doesn't bring life...only more hunger when we are continually disappointed. But I choose the true greener grass...I choose to walk in the light of day, instead of the darkness. Help me to choose that every day, Abba. Remind me of who I am in You...root me and establish me in that. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Well, it turns out that I act and think a lot like someone who moved around when they were young. I learned that for a long time now, I have felt like I never belong or fit anywhere. Like no one understands me and never will so I'm just not going to give them the chance. But I long to feel like I fit...like I belong somewhere...safe and secure...no longer an orphan. So, when it gets hard, I start dreaming about the next place, thinking maybe it will be better...but I never stick in one place long enough to find out...and the truth is:
I do have a place to belong. There is a place where I fit. I am accepted and acceptable. The truth of the gospel says that.
It's actually a sin when I don't believe that. I haven't felt like myself in months. I've been wrestless...looking for something, someone to belong to, to fit into...and my hunger was never satisfied. But in one breath-taking moment, the light and truth of God's grace, His gospel, my identity in Him changed it all. I realized I could choose to believe the truth of my identity in Christ instead of the lies I'd believed for so long. And because realizing my belief in the power of the lies was a sin, I was suddenly free from their power over me. You see, I thought that the wounds of the past made my insecurities inevitable, but the truth is my belief in the lies that come from those wounds is my choice...which makes it my sin issue. And if it's a sin issue of my own heart instead of ways I sinned against that I can't change and couldn't control, then there is hope! Because then I can repent & believe in the truth of the gospel. I can turn from believing in the lies.
You see, the only greener grass that exists is that grass which is illuminated by the gospel. All other "greener" grass is just a facade. It doesn't bring life...only more hunger when we are continually disappointed. But I choose the true greener grass...I choose to walk in the light of day, instead of the darkness. Help me to choose that every day, Abba. Remind me of who I am in You...root me and establish me in that. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Two Kinds of Pain
I have two kinds of pain in my heart. The first kind, that I won't dwell on now, is the type of pain that happens when God is rooting up deep, wounded places of your heart that need to be healed by the only One who can transcend time and enter into those places of hurt.
The second type of pain is the pain of loss. I had to say goodbye, I had to let go. The type of loss I'm talking about I've experienced before, but this time it's different. This time I don't have a wall in my heart. This time my care still extends to the one I had to let go. When we were saying goodbye, there wasn't anger or hurt towards each other, just a common sense of loss...a common sense of not fully understanding why...common ground. The one human who understands my heart best is the one I had to say goodbye to (oh the pain of loss! ...even if it is the right thing)...and so we lingered...not wanting to say goodnight because in our hearts it was goodbye to something we had both hoped for...and in ways still long for.
Can a new thing arise? Can God be glorified by a restoration of sorts...of a different kind? Can pain not be ignored, but walked through...together, but apart...reaching out towards friendship. Can comfort be sought from each other because we know the same pain...even though what was hoped for cannot be. Can a new and wonderful thing be bloomed from within the soil of pain?
I hope so. But His ways are not my ways...I only hope, and pray, and follow, and trust that He knows what He's doing.
The second type of pain is the pain of loss. I had to say goodbye, I had to let go. The type of loss I'm talking about I've experienced before, but this time it's different. This time I don't have a wall in my heart. This time my care still extends to the one I had to let go. When we were saying goodbye, there wasn't anger or hurt towards each other, just a common sense of loss...a common sense of not fully understanding why...common ground. The one human who understands my heart best is the one I had to say goodbye to (oh the pain of loss! ...even if it is the right thing)...and so we lingered...not wanting to say goodnight because in our hearts it was goodbye to something we had both hoped for...and in ways still long for.
Can a new thing arise? Can God be glorified by a restoration of sorts...of a different kind? Can pain not be ignored, but walked through...together, but apart...reaching out towards friendship. Can comfort be sought from each other because we know the same pain...even though what was hoped for cannot be. Can a new and wonderful thing be bloomed from within the soil of pain?
I hope so. But His ways are not my ways...I only hope, and pray, and follow, and trust that He knows what He's doing.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Feeling: Unknown
This morning at church, someone that I know only a little bit prayed for me...this happens most weeks at church (the praying for people part), and usually I can expect a relatively general prayer either because we're in a bigger group or I'm praying with someone I only know a little bit. However, today, the person that I was praying with prayed with authority over things I didn't expect. It's like God was just giving her the words to say: words of comfort, words that made me feel known to God. Particularly burned into my memory at this moment is the part of the prayer that centered around being in the midst of long-term transition, and how hard that is. That thought hadn't crossed my mind in such a specific way, but man did it speak straight to my heart. I'm feeling the weariness of having constant unknowns and decisions to make about my future which feel like I have no sort of information to know what decision to make. Oh Lord, help me not to make a mistake...help me to make the right decision(s)...
The truth is...I'm going to make mistakes. The truth is...God's got this. He knows what I'm going through and He's going to see me through. Help me to trust in that Jesus.
The truth is...I'm going to make mistakes. The truth is...God's got this. He knows what I'm going through and He's going to see me through. Help me to trust in that Jesus.
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