Vessel

I do not understand the living water.

I cannot comprehend what lot I play.

I struggle, stagnant, sorry day by day,

And meekly pray my life might please my Father.

I know my soul’s seen ransom: I’m his daughter.

Yet my influence is but molded clay.

His light must sparkle, dance inside each day,

Instead it stales; and dies; this living water.

Live not upright, instead I must pour out!

The living water thrives when it is spilled.

His life, his light I’m giv’n to write about –

I write: my tarnish is restored to gild.

In silence naught but usefulness goes out.

In pouring – suddenly room to be filled.

2013: Make it Meaningful

The new calendar hands me a snazzy empty grid to fill with life. Is it opportunity, or is it intimidating? 

I begin to plan for the new year; I pick out meaningful things from the endless list of opportunities and drop them onto that handy sectioned cardstock. But the word meaningful catches me. Meaningful. It’s used so often to describe the old year that I feel it’s a mandate: Find thou something meaningful in this year!

I can’t.

I’m not going to look back and point to 2012 and tell you that my character took great strides, and that I 

gained a sense of direction.

It wasn't like that.

My definition of meaningful changed.

In June I went to New York City with my choir. I would describe it to you in the varying hues of the markets we visited, or the audiences we sang for, or the places we ate. But all that comes to mind is “We had so much fun!” It was a pleasurable and empty trip. We went. We sang. We came home.

In September I went to Colorado with Katie. I won’t try to describe it to you. I can only try to clarify the meaning it taught me.

There was fellowship. There is a fellowship in a choir, just as there is a fellowship in God. But a choir needs a purpose. God is purpose. And to fellowship in Christ then, is meaningful as nothing else can be.

Things came of this fellowship. Study. We came together every morning, afternoon and evening for lectures. We studied the solidness of the truths of God. Desire to study. We took notes, bought books, took time to meditate and pray about what we learned. Close fellowship. We were divided into small groups to pray for, lean on and support each other. Joy. Maybe we just looked like another group of volleyball players at the park, but our smiles didn't end with our physical exertion. We served joyfully – taking plates after meals or helping Mat with his sprained ankle. We took joy in learning, in praising, in prayer, in fellowship and in sleep. More fellowship. We now worship together by posting verses on Facebook. We study by posting and responding to articles and listening to the wise voices of our new friends.  

In June I came back from New York with the choir exhausted, ready to sleep.

In September I came back from back from Colorado with Katie; Katie-bug; My Katie, exhausted and eager to fellowship.

That gridded wall hanging beckons me again. I smile.

Opportunity.

For Meaning. 

Thanksgiving

It’s Thanksgiving. Not Easter. Yes, I’m grateful for over-stuffed turkeys and aromatic pies, time with my family, laughs shared with friends, and another blessed year. Yes, I’m rejoicing that I live a life of plenty, that God has blessed us with a bounteous abode, abundant land, and canine adorers. My stereotypical little life is a thing I have great thanks for. But that which my heart sings the loudest for, that for which I can find no words but I must express, is my gratitude for the spiritual blessing that begat all spiritual blessings. I thank God for Christ.

I praise God for his peace in my confusion, his joy when I’m discouraged, and his love when I want to be angry; I praise God for his death for my life.

Lately I have been studying the book of Esther. I’ve read it before, and it’s a good story. Esther becomes queen in time to save her people from annihilation. But the question has been hounding me: why is this story in the Bible?  And in the few nights I prayed for revelation and truly studied, the Holy Spirit whispered. I could suddenly see the fantastic way this story pictures in a human romance God’s heart and mind.

Esther was not perfect, as a lamb must be. But she was submissive to her cousin-turned-father, and showed honor to the husband she was not allowed to choose. She invited Haman to feast with her, and endured the realness of evil without Mordecai’s protective presence. Xerxes in turn renounced his closest counselor and trusted friend for the love of his endangered bride. The Jews were empowered and overcame their assailants on that fateful day ever after entitled Purim, a day of salvation.

The parallels astounded me. Each element seemed to point to Christ’s perfect offering, with a human spin. Esther released her life without dying. Xerxes granted life to the nation he first sold into destruction, all with eyes for one woman and ears for whomever spoke.

The record of this small segment in time is a breath-taking panorama of heavenly design. It emphasized God’s zealous protection of his chosen in the past. Even Zeresh realized that “’If Mordecai, before whom you have begun to fall, is of the Jewish people, you will not overcome him but will surely fall before him.’” Medes and Persians understood God’s reputation. Yet this epic, like a glass of water, also magnified Christ’s coming story. Ever so clearly, this type of Christ fit together piece by piece and pictured salvation.

Esther was afraid to offer herself, and prayed for three days. Christ wept and endured agony at the thought of his suffering. Xerxes killed his advisor rather than lose his wife. God turned away from Christ to win us.

It is for all this I feel gratitude this Thanksgiving. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing…even as he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him…to the praise of his glorious grace with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.” Ephesians 1:3,4 and 6.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Praise him all creatures here below.

Praise him above ye heavenly hosts.

Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

 

Amen.

Revitalizing Leadership: Live to change lives.

My generation needs to see believers living out Biblical faith. In Titus 2:7 it says “…in all respects be a model of good works, in your teaching show integrity, dignity and sound speech…” In today’s world many people say one thing and do another. They live a double standard. Transformational leadership starts with believers leading as a way of life. This necessitates involvement in scriptures, family, church, work and government.

Believers need to be rooted in the word. There is great poverty of biblical knowledge among believers today. We delve into commentaries and short studies about the Bible, grateful for man’s perspiration, but we are malnourished of God’s inspiration. For us to lead, we need to be in the word and know the word.

Our most important sphere of leadership needs to be our family. The Bible states in 1^st Timothy 3: 4-5 that if we can’t lead our own family we can’t lead in church. I believe familial leadership encompasses loving, valuing and respecting our spouse and modeling love and integrity to our kids.

Leadership at church is multifaceted. Plug into a small group, triad or other Bible study. Participating in a group in which we lead others and are led as we study scripture is necessary to our growth. Be held accountable. Be involved in service; find your area of excellence and be a leader. Lead AWANA games, a Bible study, worship etc.

Work; no matter how big or small the corporation, even the Christian intern can lead! Be the best employee that you can. Show up on time, work hard, be a person of integrity. This will give you a platform with which to bring up Christ.

Christians need to lead in government. One of the biggest ways is staying informed of what different candidates and elected officials believe. Take the time to vote and encourage others to vote. If you feel called to run for an office, pray about it, then jump in and be courageous.

My generation needs to be believers who are purposeful in living out their faith. Individuals don’t turn away from Christianity because they have tried it and it doesn’t work. They turn away because they see hypocrisy in people who claim to be believers but don’t live by the book.

The Meaning of Meaning

Because of course all my Summit friends aren't over-loaded with school, or brain-fried with lectures, or exhausted with their families. We opted to review...right?

"Alright, my topic is the Meaning of Meaning.
"We all know that Ideas have...?"

"Consequences," we replied in attempted unison.

"And bad ideas have bad consequences," Michael Bauman added, doubling our perception of the first idea.

A few kids began twirling their pens. Most of us sat and tried to wrap our heads around that in the two seconds before our lecturer used those statements as the foundation for his hour's argument.

He launched.
We gulped.

"This guy's terrible," the guy next to me warned in a whisper.
"Whaaa?" I raised an eyebrow.
"He'll throw out a question and then take the opposite position you take."
"Oh. Um, I don't like arguments like that." And that determined me to just sit this one out and glean what I could from others.

"My other point is that sloppy language makes sloppy thought possible. But back to the first point.
"When you read a book who determines what it means? Do you determine the meaning, or does the author?"

"Well you do."
I glanced at the kid. Not if I have anything to say about it! I thought.

Seriously? As a writer, that's quite defeating! I write my opinion on several things. And if each reader is free to take the words I write and turn them into anything they want to hear, it completely negates the purpose of writing in the first place!

I sat a little on edge, mentally daring somebody to agree with him. But at the same time, fear nibbled my mind. If words I write can mean anything, then they will never truly say what I want them to; not only would it completely cancel out the purpose of writing, but I could be accused of so many false ideas. Writers would be stripped of their influence over culture. Meanings could be twisted to support any position on anything.

And isn't this exactly where people covertly begin to destroy positive influence and ideas? By undermining meaning. People who take away meaning can convince you to question everything from their bias of meaninglessness. And to those who learn this teaching innocently, it even makes sense.

It can't be true though. If somebody is telling you that meaning is only interpretation, then you are quite free to interpret that to mean anything. Even that meaning only means the author's intent. People who teach this twisted view want to be the exception to this philosophy. And so it doesn't work.

"Ok. Secondly, sloppy thought makes sloppy language possible. Case in point. Let us consider hypothetically that Jill has a very clear idea about R. Jill decides to write a book about R. She chooses her words carefully, and is very specific with her language. Her book is published and Jack picks it up. He reads carefully, following the author's intent. And when Jack has finished reading the book, the ideas about R that Jill had are successfully and accurately communicated to Jack.
"However! Maybe Jill was a sloppy thinker. Perhaps she didn't bother to ponder R enough to get a clear picture of it. Moreover, when she wrote, she used a "hand grenade" style of writing (thank you for the quote, Michael Bauman) and chose words that roughly described her already-shaky R. Jack can read this two ways. If Jack is a sloppy reader, he may be so confused by Jill's disorganized thoughts in disorganized writing that he gets a shaky picture of S instead of R.

"Or perhaps, Jack is a good reader and he thinks what a stupid author."

"Our world was spoken into existence; language is at the core of our world. You have to get the words right."

The Last Lesson - Summit Ministries

I can't seem to get the hang of retreats.

Basic recipe: laugh, listen, pray, take notes, fellowship, talk to God.

I can do most of that, no problem. But in the midst of such strong fellowship, in the center of Biblical learning, surrounded by stories of God's grace and truth is where I lose sight of God.

It seems to happen every time.

At home, I can sit on my bed with my Bible on my lap and pray God's grace over my family, my friends, my tomorrow, my sins and never lose that sense of communication. But then when I'm surrounded by people who lovingly expect me to be so strong spiritually my faith gets lost in the shuffle. I know God's there. I know he hears me when we're singing our worship, when we're hiking on faith, or when we're serving with his love. I know God is listening when we're praying, that the Holy Spirit is interpreting when we're learning, that he's inspiring the teachers.
But my heart wonders, and feels empty.
And so my mind begins to wonder.

Colorado was great! We went hiking three mornings, and got to see the sunrise over the hills in the east from the top of Red Mountain. The puns they put on the kitchen walls every lunch were hilarious! We'd sit and laugh about them through our meal. Pikes peak united us in fascinated misery as we hiked 8 oxygen-deprived miles to the most breathtaking view in Colorado. We were encouraged to chat amongst ourselves before and after lectures, and by the end of two weeks, everybody had met everybody, I believe.

But I still felt alone. Until they brought David into the last Foundation session, the last morning.
"Does doubting mean you've lost faith?" Our speaker searched our faces, letting the question settle into us.
"Divide into your small groups and read Psalm 42."

In Psalm 42, David is in agony. He reveals his very soul as downcast, says his tears have been his food. And in the next breath he tells himself "Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God." (Psalm 42:5b)

He doubts, and he cries out. But he will praise still.
He questions, but he reminds himself that the One he questions is faithful.
He is downcast and disturbed, yet he will praise.

"Alright. Who wants to answer the question? What did you find as you studied this in your groups?"

"Um...What was the question?" Nolan asked quickly. His group chuckled, embarrassed, and gave him the answer quietly.

"Oh! Ok," Nolan recovered nonchalantly. "Well-"

But I've already tuned out. I realized I'm wasn't losing faith. I hadn't lost track of God through all the noise of the camp. Even through the pain of wondering where God has gone, we can worship and fellowship and trust, and praise.

And God is there.

Sunday.

We gathered.
We chatted.
We volleyed the ball.
We laughed hard.
We were breathless.
We lay on the grass and made shapes out of the clouds.
We played on the swings.
We tossed the football.
We roasted acorns.
We ultimated the frisbe.
We claimed we had it.
We dropped it.
We made good saves.
We chuckled.
We put our shoes on.
We panted and drank water.
We promised next week.
We decided every sunday, this must happen.
We left happy.