Though I may give up on some people,
God never gives up on them.
Praise Him. =)
Psalm 73:26
"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
Sunday, April 24, 2011
EOTY
God is so good. So good.
At each End-of-the-Year Party, God just amazes me and shocks me with his goodness and glory. Incredible. =)
At each End-of-the-Year Party, God just amazes me and shocks me with his goodness and glory. Incredible. =)
Saturday, April 23, 2011
". . . it will be a Good Friday."
As I sat in the Good Friday service, I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. I mean, sure, the choir and orchestra were beautiful, but they were singing about Jesus moaning on the cross, about the painful details of being nailed to wood and the blood dripping from the holes in his body.
It wasn't so much the graphic details that made me feel uncomfortable, but more like my mind couldn't help but say, "No. Don't. Stop." Don't do this. Stop it. It was as if I were at the cross, screaming at Jesus to get down from there, that he, of all people... of all beings, shouldn't be hanging there.
And not for me, no, please, don't do it for me. I'm not worthy. You're so much more important. Anyone is way more important than me. How could you do this for me? How dare you do this for me?
At one point, I couldn't quite handle more realization of how much shame and pain He must've dealt with. My hands shielded my face and I lowered my head.
In Spanish class today, someone gave a presentation on the deforestation of the Amazon, and the question they had for the class was whether we thought the problem of deforestation was more a problem of ignorance or of apathy. After a couple students gave their answer, our teacher remarked that sometimes the reality of how grave the situation is can turn us off. We begin to shut ourselves away from such news because if we actually listen to it, then we have to deal with it. We have to reconcile that there's a lot of pain and hurt in this world, and realizing its magnitude is overwhelming. Rather than be overwhelmed, or have our conscience nag at us, we decide to just turn a blind eye. So we choose to be ignorant.
In those moments I felt like choosing to be ignorant. I felt like holing myself away, ashamed that I could do nothing to help, and that in fact, I was the one who nailed Him to the cross. It was my sins He was dying for, and what did I have to show for his death? Nothing but helplessness.
Why would someone do this?
"This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins."
(1 John 4:10)
How dare He. Not just God, sending His Son, but also Jesus, the Son... how dare He choose to die for us. He should have just left me in the cold. There is nothing in me worth saving. There is nothing that I can give that He needs.
After all, Romans 5:7, "Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die."
ah. but. Romans 5:8. "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Why did He die for us? Because he loves us. Why does He love us? Because He's God. It's who He is and it's part of His character. He is love, after all.
And it's His love that instills worth in me.
My devotional last night coincided nicely with Good Friday, telling me,
"How do we really and truly know God loves us? Where's the proof of His love?
It's at the cross that God proved once and for all that He loves us. There could be no greater expression of His devotion to us than to send His own Son to die such an undeserving death on our behalf. Love, and only love, would ever do something like that.
With the cross, God has given us something factual and historical that forever settles the issue of His love. The next time you begin to question if God really loves you, look at the cross. The next time you disappoint yourself and doubt God wants anything to do with you, look at the cross. The next time you hear the condemning whispers of the enemy ('You blew it. He doesn't want you anymore'), look at the cross. God loves you without end. Just look at the cross... there's the proof!"
So there is where I find my worth. In the unchangeable. In something that's not about my success, my grades, my talents, my good deeds, my words or other people's words about me.
In the end, it's all about Him. It was never about me, but He was so gracious as to let me be a part of all of this. I can't just look at the cross and demand that Jesus would stop dying for me. It's His choice, and it's His love.
All I can do is thank Him and praise Him.
It wasn't so much the graphic details that made me feel uncomfortable, but more like my mind couldn't help but say, "No. Don't. Stop." Don't do this. Stop it. It was as if I were at the cross, screaming at Jesus to get down from there, that he, of all people... of all beings, shouldn't be hanging there.
And not for me, no, please, don't do it for me. I'm not worthy. You're so much more important. Anyone is way more important than me. How could you do this for me? How dare you do this for me?
At one point, I couldn't quite handle more realization of how much shame and pain He must've dealt with. My hands shielded my face and I lowered my head.
In Spanish class today, someone gave a presentation on the deforestation of the Amazon, and the question they had for the class was whether we thought the problem of deforestation was more a problem of ignorance or of apathy. After a couple students gave their answer, our teacher remarked that sometimes the reality of how grave the situation is can turn us off. We begin to shut ourselves away from such news because if we actually listen to it, then we have to deal with it. We have to reconcile that there's a lot of pain and hurt in this world, and realizing its magnitude is overwhelming. Rather than be overwhelmed, or have our conscience nag at us, we decide to just turn a blind eye. So we choose to be ignorant.
In those moments I felt like choosing to be ignorant. I felt like holing myself away, ashamed that I could do nothing to help, and that in fact, I was the one who nailed Him to the cross. It was my sins He was dying for, and what did I have to show for his death? Nothing but helplessness.
Why would someone do this?
"This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins."
(1 John 4:10)
How dare He. Not just God, sending His Son, but also Jesus, the Son... how dare He choose to die for us. He should have just left me in the cold. There is nothing in me worth saving. There is nothing that I can give that He needs.
After all, Romans 5:7, "Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die."
ah. but. Romans 5:8. "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Why did He die for us? Because he loves us. Why does He love us? Because He's God. It's who He is and it's part of His character. He is love, after all.
And it's His love that instills worth in me.
My devotional last night coincided nicely with Good Friday, telling me,
"How do we really and truly know God loves us? Where's the proof of His love?
It's at the cross that God proved once and for all that He loves us. There could be no greater expression of His devotion to us than to send His own Son to die such an undeserving death on our behalf. Love, and only love, would ever do something like that.
With the cross, God has given us something factual and historical that forever settles the issue of His love. The next time you begin to question if God really loves you, look at the cross. The next time you disappoint yourself and doubt God wants anything to do with you, look at the cross. The next time you hear the condemning whispers of the enemy ('You blew it. He doesn't want you anymore'), look at the cross. God loves you without end. Just look at the cross... there's the proof!"
So there is where I find my worth. In the unchangeable. In something that's not about my success, my grades, my talents, my good deeds, my words or other people's words about me.
In the end, it's all about Him. It was never about me, but He was so gracious as to let me be a part of all of this. I can't just look at the cross and demand that Jesus would stop dying for me. It's His choice, and it's His love.
All I can do is thank Him and praise Him.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
God: the Burden
"A couple of blog posts ago, a non-believing friend posted a comment that still haunts me with its accuracy. He asked if I even enjoyed being a Christian. He said my portrayal of Christ “comes off like an advertisement for being abjectly miserable, oppressively guilty and constantly confused about your every act and thought”. My first instinct was to delete his comment, or defend myself or justify my heart. But that would have been pretty ironic since the post was about fighting the temptation to do such things. 
sneaky God.
sneaky God.The reality is – my friend is right. So much of the time my life testifies that I believe Jesus is real and true, but not necessarily good; not sweet; not exciting and delightful and a source of unfailing joy.
I am an inaccurate picture of the sweetness of my God. I make Him out to be a burden. May my dear and precious and faithful friend Jesus forgive me. May He redeem my heart so that it can reflect that He is indeed better to me than life. I pray that my hardened heart may be softened. I pray that my inabilities in this area may lead me to worship a God of such sweet grace."
~http://www.fabsharford.com/?p=602 [bolding mine]
oh, so true. There's so much I could do, so much I could say, so much I could experience if I weren't a follower of Christ. And sure, those things might not be worth anything, but sometimes the fact that I cannot do those things feels like a burden. Intelligent design is a burden to uphold (although I suppose it's not really crucial to uphold). My current walk with celibacy and homosexuality is a burden. Oftentimes, I and everyone else (non-Christian) around me get the thought that the God whom I serve is the propagator and reason of that burden. That He Himself is the reason I must suffer.
But in truth, he is "better to me than life."
I pray that I could always believe this myself... and that it could be painfully obvious to everyone around me.
Did I say already that I love Fabs? God is speaking truth through her.
Worship of Self?
". . . When I sing worship songs on Sunday I am filled with joy. But how can I tell if the joy I feel is a result of the glory of God that I see rising up in front of me or if it’s a result of seeing my own worth lifted up – being the object of His affection.
In Religious Affections, Edwards quotes this:
“There are such things in [our faith] which, when a carnal, unhallowed mind takes the chair and gets the expounding of them, may seem very delicious to the fleshy appetites of men.”
Gosh. That makes my heart skip a beat. There are great doctrines and truths written in the pages of the Bible that even if I cared nothing for God I might feel my heart quicken at the sound of them. Someone who doesn’t love God at all could be filled with joy at the sound of the wonders of all He has done if they were at the center of those things. I cannot imagine any more devastating realization than the thought that all of my ‘worship’ for God and all of the affections I experience for Him are ultimately worship of self.
This isn’t designed to make you panic, it’s just designed to make you test your heart. There is only one person I know who finds their security fully in the greatness of God. And the great news is that His righteousness is wrapped around me. He is my refuge in the moments when the darkness of my heart causes me to tremble.
The goal of tracing our joy back to its source isn’t to make us feel bad about ourselves. And if it results in that kind of discouragement it’s probable that we’re finding our confidence in the flesh. The goal of pressing into these things is so that we can fight to put our worth and value in Christ alone. The heart that is found in Him experiences more joy than the heart that runs after any offer of temporal security tossed its way."
I love Fabs.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
50th Most Populated State!
I found out today that my high school is performing The Laramie Project.
I think I'll always find it haunting/freakishly ironic/hand-of-God-all-over that I was born in Laramie, Wyoming, the place where the infamous case of Matthew Shepard took place, where a boy was killed because he was gay.
It gives me chills.
Perhaps the LGBT community is part of my life's calling.
Or perhaps I'm just concluding that so I don't have to think that this struggle is as senseless as it often feels.
I think I'll always find it haunting/freakishly ironic/hand-of-God-all-over that I was born in Laramie, Wyoming, the place where the infamous case of Matthew Shepard took place, where a boy was killed because he was gay.
It gives me chills.
Perhaps the LGBT community is part of my life's calling.
Or perhaps I'm just concluding that so I don't have to think that this struggle is as senseless as it often feels.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Still Rocking my Thoughts
The message Johnny shared for the spring break trip.
"People say the cross is a sign of how much man is worth.
That's not true.
The cross is a sign of how depraved we really are, that it took the death of God's own Son. The only thing that could save a people like us was the death of God's own Son, under the wrath of His own Father, paying the price, rising again from the dead, powerful to save."
So what do I have to show for my faith? Am I, as 2 Cor. 5:17 states, "a new creation"? Has the old passed away and has the new come?
Hmmm.
"People say the cross is a sign of how much man is worth.
That's not true.
The cross is a sign of how depraved we really are, that it took the death of God's own Son. The only thing that could save a people like us was the death of God's own Son, under the wrath of His own Father, paying the price, rising again from the dead, powerful to save."
So what do I have to show for my faith? Am I, as 2 Cor. 5:17 states, "a new creation"? Has the old passed away and has the new come?
Hmmm.
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