Why It Matters...

Sometimes, I feel like I am living real life version of a Lord of the Rings movie. It’s a strange analogy I know, but the one thing I took away from watching the entire trilogy in one day is this: that every single thing they did on their journey mattered. Mattering is an interesting concept. On the one hand, mattering gives you a sense of purpose, but on the other hand, mattering means that your actions and words have extreme importance.  I’m a teacher. God made me a teacher… Or at least that is how the memory plays out in my head. So, when I go to work every day, I go knowing that what I do matters. Sometimes, it’s great and mattering in the lives of young people is amazing and life changing for both sides. Yet, other days, mattering is exhausting. It’s a burden. And it is totally overwhelming.

You cannot teach well without covering every facet of your profession in prayer. Not doing so is the equivalent of pulling down upon you the very yoke that God has promised to lift. Even still, the job is just plain hard. The truth is that I love these kids so much. They all have stories. It’s like the Freedom Writers movie threw up its script right into our school. There are fights. There are drugs. There are kids with horrible home lives. The weird thing is that all of these kids – rich or poor – pretty much like coming to school. Because, unlike home, school is structure and school is the wonderful distraction from whatever they face under the roof of their house… Parents fighting, parents cheating, parents drinking, parents in jail, parents that never crossed the border with their children, parents who can’t work so the kids have to… And at the end of the day, they’re still parents… Parents who, despite their obvious struggles, send us the best they’ve got, hoping for the best in us. That makes us matter.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a burden, just straight up heart aching burden for these kids. The kind of burden that wakes me up from a dead sleep and prompts me to just begin praying. It’s simultaneously invigorating and exhausting because every prayer I say or don’t say matters… I once had a co-worker who taught with the outlook of never making her problems, the kids’ problems... Which is to say that none of what impacts us in our personal life should surface and hinder our effectiveness towards those students. But really, that’s just hard sometimes… The reality is that reality does bubble up and creep into nearly everything. Especially everything you have put your whole heart and soul into. I’ll say this though, in the outside world… the one beyond the brick walls of my school, there are a whole lot of people that walk around feeling sorry for themselves because of the story they’ve got. More than anything, this place has taught me that the pity party is a waste of time. Look around, I tell myself; nearly everyone here has something just as bad or worse.

This school is not a place where we feel bad about the life we have. This is the place where we look at our obstacle and thank God we’re in a place where we have the capability to get over it. I have doubt, I have fear… But God made me a teacher to matter. I’ve been racking my brain for the better part of this year because sometimes I feel so uncommon… Why do I care so much? Why can’t I stop thinking about these kids? Why am I out with friends on a Friday night but thinking about the conversations I’m going to have with my kids on Monday? Some might chalk this up to being a passionate teacher, but it’s more than that.

God has called us to be uncommon… To be different… That moment when we pause and look at our life and it looks like everyone else, that is the moment that should really make us anxious. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve read too much Francis Chan and David Platt lately, but I mean really, aren’t we supposed to be risking everything for the sake of Christ? Shouldn’t my kids, my co-workers know me by my love? It matters, right?

Everything about the world is a risk, but am I really willing to attempt something big enough that failure is guaranteed… Unless God steps in? And so it goes with my job right now… 12 weeks deep into 120 lives and everything matters. It matters because we’re the hope. It matters because loving differently matters. And it matters because what we choose to attempt or not attempt will ultimately be of eternal value for pretty much everyone that God has put us in relationship with. So then, forgive me for being overly invested in my true work, for not having my blackboard site updated a day earlier because I spent two hours after school talking to a student about why her mom and dad both cheat on each other and never say I love you to her, or for not wanting to do anything on a Friday night because by the end of these 12 hour work days I’m truly exhausted. To the Christian, there is never a time when one part of life doesn’t spill over into another… My faith is my work is my passion is my mission is my calling is my obedience is my gift of thankfulness for a life otherwise lost but for the grace of God.

I am grateful for those that push me in this mission. That live to make Christ known in all they do. I am thankful for the uncommon people that the Lord has put in my life that have prepared me for what lies ahead, that pour into and pray over this work of eternal consequence. They are race runners and they force a challenging pace. I’m grateful to be exhausted and aware that all this will fail unless God steps in.

 

The Longing...

I’d like to resolve to watch less TV. It is a pleasant and effortless distraction, but I don’t need a distraction when intentional focus is what I am missing. See, I have realized that, in Christ, I have freedom… Which has also strangely led me to the recognition that I have the freedom to be bored. That freedom sometimes feels like permission and permission can quickly become a desire and when life gets hectic, painful, sorrowful, then all of the sudden my freedom feels like and excuse for boredom.

So, I listlessly spend summer days escaping from the year that was and avoiding the year that will be. There are moments of hope that break the fog of ignoring, but no mountaintop is high enough to allow me to escape reality forever. In the lull of expected answers, half-hearted bible study, and time with friends where I ask lots of questions and give very few answers, I find myself detached from the anchor, slipping out of the harbor and unknowingly into the sea.

Sharing becomes a strange thing in the boredom because I am basically pulling from my experiential filing cabinet… Nothing new to share, too prideful to say so… So I regurgitate something old and everyone assumes that everything is… Well… Fine. The truth is that unlike blatant trials, boredom lulls us away with shallow questions or things that might be nice to pursue but never are. Boredom makes all things seems unnecessary and certainly like there is not any rush to get to them. God is easy to spot in blessing, easy to cry out to in pain… But not so in the mist… When senses are dull and revelation is dim and distant. Another mountaintop isn’t the answer and, clearly, a trial is off the table if we can help it. So, there is just this craving to know that God is there.

It reminds me of this Frederick Buechner thought expressed in an Alli Rogers song…

“Frederick rarely hears the voice of God. He says that silence is the answer most of all.

When the world has explanations for every miracle, how else would we have ears to hear Him call?

It’s not a steady rain, it’s more a longing or a pain. It’s in the aching that we know there is something more.”

And I guess right now, that’s just it. Because I long, I also know that there is something more. I long because I have hope. Both mountaintops and trials most certainly sit on the path ahead – the believer yearns for both though that seems like a contradiction – but in both the presence of God is made so real. It is not so much that we long to be pain free or overlooked for struggle… But to know that our peaks and valleys and all that falls in between is uniquely chosen for us by God. And that He is there… Present and active through it all…

First Thoughts...

It’s the end of another school year. The years seem to be racking up at a quicker pace than I’m ready to admit. Eight years in and I have had my fair share of awkward moments, surprising challenges, and generous rewards. Having come to a new school this year, I think there is a copious amount of reflecting to be done to be followed by an equally generous amount of journaling. So, in light of that, I thought I’d start my reflection process off with something a little lighter. Teaching is good because it is hard and it is hard because it is good. So, when there is a chance to bring some levity into it, I welcome it. See, levity allows me to scrape through the surface to where the real gems of the year are located, but it does it in such a way that I don’t hesitate to go a little deeper and look a little longer once time really allows.


That said, here are 10 interesting things I learned from my school year:

1. No matter how hot the classroom gets, keep the windows closed.

When this does not occur, some 18 year old male might throw his glasses into the courtyard “just because.” Not good.


2. Have your homeroom class help you put sandwiches together to feed the homeless.

Then, you get to hear kids who used to say “the homeless can feed themselves” come back four months later and say “When can we help with that again? I think I want to make them brownies or something.”

3. Don’t sit too still in a classroom.

This makes you a prime target for cockroaches. They are small and non-threatening, but it’s creepy when they crawl across your keyboard.

4. Share your strengths and weaknesses with your kids.

This way, you can eventually find out that one of your male students has secretly been keeping a list all year of all the things you said you weren’t good at. On the last day, he’ll give you this list titled “Miss Storm’s Bad Traits” and say, “I just thought you should know.”

If you’re lucky, he might even put a nice trait on there too.

5. Know that if you’re weird and kind it gives your students license to be their weird selves too.

Then you’ll have that day, when you look around the room and think “Wow, we’re all really weird… And strangely comfortable with that.”
As a side, if you’re weird and mean, it doesn’t seem to work out as well because then you’re just the crazy teacher that doesn’t like kids.

6. Definitely ask your kids how their day is going.

Even if during the first few months of doing so you continually get an agitated response of “I’m doing my work!”

I know you’re doing your work darling. I just wanted to know how your day is going.

By the end of the year, they’ll actually answer the question.

7. Anticipate “the day”.

Every year, “the day” happens. That special day with each of your classes when, for whatever reason, your class becomes truly yours, your kids become family, and you know that this set of kids was meant especially for you.

(Warning: this may or may not happen on the same day that you all realize you are weird and okay with it.)

8. Keep a spray bottle on your desk and label it “Tears From Students”.

There is no need to ever actually use this bottle… Just simply slide it to a place where the kids can see it when they’re thinking about doing something ridiculous.

9. Tell your students early on what kinds of baked goods you like.

Otherwise, you end up having your pants be tight for stuff you didn’t like all that much in the first place. :)

10. Always leave a little space for students to write and reflect at the end of a test.

That way you get the pleasure of reading things like this:

Tornadoes, Texas, and Easter...

Due to the unexpected and violent tornadoes in Dallas yesterday, my early morning flight was canceled. This resulted in me having one more day here. Unfortunately, my host had to work today, which means I got a whole day to myself. I had no car - just time and an empty house. This morning, on Facebook, a friend recommended a site that took you through a 15 - minute prayer exercise, which they have available for every day. I decided to check it out since I had more time than I knew what to do with.

This morning's meditation was on two things: a hymn that sang "My sweet Jesus, look with mercy on my soul" and the scripture from Matthew 26:14 - 16, where Judas agrees to betray Jesus. 

Then one of the Twelve—the one called Judas Iscariot—went to the chief priests and asked, “What are you willing to give me if I deliver him over to you?” So they counted out for him thirty pieces of silver. From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand him over.

In the given times of contemplation, there were two resounding thoughts that came to mind:

1. How much mercy it really takes to get to Heaven.

2. The question of whether or not I'm like Judas at all.

During my time here in Texas, I've had the chance to attend several church services. I continue to hear lots of messages of the gospel presented and followed with a statement or question that goes something like this: A lot you might think you're believers, but unless you're living it out and the Holy Spirit is inside of you - you're not. You may know a lot about Jesus, but do you actually know Him?

Such a great question. When immersed in a bible believing culture like Texas is, it would be easy to fall in to the cowpath of religious coattails without ever picking up the relationship with Jesus for yourself. As, I think about that in light of today's meditations, it seems that these two things go hand in hand with this notion. 

For one, living as a feeble human here on earth, sin is inevitable. Not that we freely give way to it, but we ARE sinners, whether we try to be or not, we constantly fall short of what God calls us to. Because that's true, we are in full need at all times of mercy and grace. It must be in endless supply as we reach deeply into the well after both the most casual or most egregious cases of sin. Mercy allows us to know we can move beyond sin and onto the narrow path that God has called us to.

The second part of this morning's meditation that struck me was the final part of the given verses - "From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand him over". In some other translations, that is written - "and Judas watched for chances to betray Him". Those words just stick with me. Because, inasmuch as I'd like to have no identification with this passage, the truth is that I do. I might not be seeking out chances to sin, but I'm certainly guilty of selling Jesus out for the world rather frequently. At times, I can be frivolous in knowing I am welcome back to His loving embrace so I shortcut my love towards Him, towards my neighbor - all the while knowing that each is a betrayal of the great commandment. 

This emphasizes the importance of my relationship with Him. The need for grace, for mercy, for truth, for love and then the need for these questions - Am I living out my faith in deed? Loving as I ought? Am I loving Jesus? Am I loving you? And, in doing so, giving way to his two greatest commandments? Holy Week and Easter just beg to be times of reflection and introspection. So, as I sit about to board my plane back to DC, these are the questions itching to be answered. 

Back To Egypt...

It’s funny how things pop up, seemingly at random, but far too frequently to ignore. For example, last week our pastor talked about shying away from the BTEC (Back to Egypt Club) in a sermon. His point was simple – to steer clear of those people who want to walk us back to a life of comfort and ease yet away from God’s plan for us. That notion was a good one and I pondered it for a few minutes until the sermon ended and I was distracted by both the church lobby and the rest of life. But then, during my quiet times this past week, I found myself in the section of Jeremiah that discusses exactly that – God’s warning against going back to Egypt. See, there was a remnant of people who remained after nearly all of the Israelites got carted off to Babylon. They sought out Jeremiah to pray to God what His will would be for them. And, when the message of the Lord came through it was loud and clear and basically said this – Stay in this land. If you do, I’ll build you up. Don’t be afraid. Not even of the King of Babylon. I am the Lord. I will save you, show you compassion, and restore you. But, if you are determined to go back to Egypt, you will suffer by sword, by famine, and eventually by death. In other words – DO NOT go to Egypt.” It’s important to recognize what Egypt represents – a time, a place, a way that is known, comfortable, and relatively easy, but far from obedience. Egypt is deceptive because it can masquerade as obedience since it lulls us in with promises of peace and comfort, but it is actually the opposition of what God wants in this case. It fronts as a land of okay, when God is clearly calling for something entirely different. Truth is - God’s promise often takes us into situations where our peace, our power, and our comfort are disrupted in order to prove Himself ever faithful.

A short time ago, I was chatting with a friend about precise obedience and how there is just a lack of precision to so many of the things we are executing for the Lord. We hesitate in our timely response, we waver in our willingness to follow through, and often even resist petitioning the Lord’s opinion on much of life. And we do so, in the same nature as the Israelites described above. We want to know the Lord’s will, but we want it limited to our comfort zone and its suburbs. Yet, as we get into the rural parts of our lives and faith walks, the places we go with little frequency, we are privy to the promises delineated in Jeremiah 42:10 – 12. In these open and unvisited spaces, we catch glimpses of glory unable to be seen from anywhere else.

Jeremiah 42:10 – 12 says this:

‘If you stay in this land, I will build you up and not tear you down; I will plant you and not uproot you, for I have relented concerning the disaster I have inflicted on you. Do not be afraid of the king of Babylon, whom you now fear. Do not be afraid of him, declares the LORD, for I am with you and will save you and deliver you from his hands. I will show you compassion so that he will have compassion on you and restore you to your land.’

Through Jeremiah, God warns us to not go back to Egypt, to not go back to the places He has saved us from. We are not to run back to our comfort whether fear or others should tempt us toward it. We are only to run towards Christ and to the places he calls us to stay or to leave. So then, as I sit and ponder this reality, I must question what is the Egypt in my own life? And, how is it drawing me back again?

Waiting On God

It’s been a long while since my good friend recommended that I read Waiting On God by Andrew Murray. In the spirit of waiting, I did, and now it’s been a few years and I am finally getting around to it. Last year, for Lent, I decided to give up sweets. Minus one small run in with a fortune cookie, I did it, learned a little about patience, increased confidence in my ability to have self-control, but was otherwise unchanged… And that’s ok. Lent isn’t about being changed, it is about being prepared through the unity of sacrifice. To, in some way, begin to comprehend Jesus’ sacrifice of His life on the cross and the power of His resurrection three days later. In short, Lent reminds me that eternal things are to be minded more than earthly things and for that to be so in my life, it requires being in constant states of rend. Not just during Lent, but all year round. I don’t “lent” for impact or favor, I lent because there is something about intentional and holy reminders, even when uncomfortable, that helps me understand God better and know Him a little more.

All that said, I began the journey of reading Waiting On God anticipating a 31- Day pep rally on why I should wait. And, while it’s all well and good to know why, there are times when it is more comforting to know how… And that’s what Murray delineates so clearly through the 15 days of reading I’ve done so far. On Day 2, he came with this line: “We hinder Him either by our indifference or by our self-effort, so that He cannot do what He would. What He asks of us, in the way of surrender, and obedience, and desire, and trust is all comprised in this one word: waiting on Him, waiting for His salvation.” See, even in our intent to wait, we put up defenses to impede His will over us and letting His work be done in our own life. Later, in Day 3, he nails this home by sharing this: “Just as it was God’s work to create, it is His work to maintain.” In saying this, we are implicated in our personal conspiracy to pray and live our way out of the situations and circumstances that cause us to need God. Waiting on God is never about reaching a point when we no longer need Him, it’s about reaching that point when we no longer need us.

So, despite the fact that my journey through Lent with Andrew Murray is not yet halfway through, I have read enough to understand that waiting is much greater than simply enduring the tension between the now and the not yet. There are, in fact, purposeful and meaningful ways to wait without apathy, anxiety, or human effort. As it states in Psalm 25 – “Let none that wait on You be ashamed.” Thus, as I wait, I shall understand that waiting is part of how God maintains my faith in Him, grows my need for him, and increases my longing for my heavenly home. In this, there is no shame for what has not yet come or for being still when the world around me “works” to get what they want. Let us each grow confident in patient waiting as we give way to God’s work in our own lives, not hindering His timing nor His plan.

Some Questions Unsettle Your Heart (52 Weeks of Questions: Week 6)

In deciding what to do with my quiet time this morning, I settled on reading a bit from My Utmost for His Highest. The verse reference came from Philippians 2:17 which states, “But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.” Today’s heading said this: Are you ready to be poured out?


This question is an interesting one. In light of the most recent circumstances of my life – a sick parent, homeless ministry, etc., there are most certainly pouring out preferences in my heart, but as I write that, I know it’s not right. The question did not inquire whether or not I was ready to be poured out for an area of my choosing, it simply asked – Are you ready? My response is a little too close to “Yes, but…” to be considered real obedience.

Ugh, clean and simple were not promises God placed on any of our lives. I know that. I’m not always excited about it, but I know it. To quote Oswald Chambers’ devotional – “Do you say ‘I am not willing to be poured out right now and I don’t want God to tell me how to serve Him… I want to choose the place of my own sacrifice?’” That quote hits a little too close to home because… Well… It’s true. Of course I want to pick and choose… Stay and leave as it suits my comfort, my schedule, or – even worse – my expectations.

There is a rut that exists in sacrifice, a rut where we can get stuck time and time again… A rut that tells us that there is NO joy in sacrifice. This is a lie that must be fought against. In my humanness, I sometimes sit and think about the things that I deem worthy of sacrificing for… But this theology is so self-centric and far from Christ. We do not sacrifice in response to something or someone’s worth… We sacrifice in response to our own depravity in light of the sacrifice on the cross.

Over the course of this week and last, I have been studying Luke 9:23 – 24 which states: Then He said to them all: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.”

Simply put, we are not in God’s family or service to save ourselves. Admittedly, my natural gait tends towards self-preservation, but that is not what God desires.

So then…

Am I really willing to be poured out?


Am I willing to set aside preference for promise?


Am I believing enough to pick up my given cross rather than trying to choose my own?

The tension that comes from the confrontation of the gospel is thick in light of what God is demanding right now. I have no confidence that my flesh will yield a right response to these questions brought forth. But – my hope is Christ in me… Proven strong in my weakness… Outlasting my will in this battle to obey.

52 Weeks of Questions: Week 4

This question was inspired by one of my Discipleship Essential leaders, Emilee, who made me even more excited about Heaven than I already was.

We'll start by reading Revelation 19:6-8:

6 Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting:

“Hallelujah!
For our Lord God Almighty reigns.
7 Let us rejoice and be glad
and give him glory!
For the wedding of the Lamb has come,
and his bride has made herself ready.
8 Fine linen, bright and clean,
was given her to wear.”

The bride has made herself ready.

So, the question - What am I doing to prepare myself for Heaven?

One Word 365

Yeah, so beginning ONE WORD 365 (Version 2012) was slightly less exciting than in 2011. Though I was more than happy to leave CONTROL behind, I admit having small bits of fear thinking about how faithful God was to release (Read: rip frequently, quickly, and deeply) control of my life from my hands and placing it into His. Truth is, I haven’t really left my word from 2011 behind, I’ve just given it a friend… One more area for God to work and make me, well, more like him and less like me.


It has become a tradition among a small group of my friends to retreat for the final days of every year… A sort of spiritual preparation for the battles to come. Somehow, I talked them into participating in the One Word activity for a second straight year. No small feat considering how our words “took us out” in 2011. But the blow by blow reality of last year’s word was just evidence that God had picked the right word for each of us and was faithful enough to see it through in our lives… Even when we wanted to abandon the mess and head for higher ground. The truth is, you don’t walk away from faithfulness, even when it’s painful and hard because what is faithful has a promise that is greater and longer lasting than any other lure.

So, there were three words that came to mind when praying about what my word should be in 2012 – joy, prayer, deeper (That last one was actually a friend’s suggestion that I wanted to prayer block pretty badly)… Anyhow, when it came down to the reveal (Yes, we have a reveal when we share our words together, write them down, and place them inside a book we think no one will ever actually read at our retreat house and come back to them a couple times a year.), the word was JOY.

Joy because sometimes the journey is rough and joy seems hard to find. Joy because it is a fruit of the spirit and we are called to it. And, joy because I can see some of the steep climbs ahead in this year and I want to prepare my heart in advance, if at all possible. (Insert joke about how I haven’t actually given up control here.)

So there it is – joy – the promise of walking away from the world and marching on towards heaven. Here’s to staying the course in 2012.

52 Questions: Week 3

The great thing about questions is that they are never in short supply.


And, by great, I mean slightly frustrating…

So, as I was prepping to write for this week, I had one question in mind. Then, as I sat waiting for a friend to arrive at church yesterday, I overheard a better, more relevant question. Well, overheard isn’t exactly accurate… I was sitting near two men who seemed engaged in a discipleship sort of relationship and may have feigned reading a book while I listened in on what questions guys ask each other in these types of conversations. The one guy was talking about what God was doing in his life and the mentor listened, waited, and then tossed this question back at him:

“Are you pursuing what God is calling you to in your life? Or, do you think you are looking at what you want to change about your past and using God as your reason for changing it?”

Hmmm… I’ve never thought about it this way, but what a great question. I’ve read/heard many people speak about loving God for God and not for His gifts, but I’ve never heard this question before, though it seems like it might have a similar root. Before I had enough time to wonder about it for my own life, my friend had arrived and we were on to something different. So in order to make my eavesdropping spiritual, I thought I’d give this question the attention it deserves and spend some time pondering it this week.

The Trouble With Responding...

Answers have a funny way of lagging behind the question in a way that makes you wonder if they’re even along for the ride. In the 52 weeks of questions, I have a sort of silent expectation that I’ll answer each week’s question within that seven day time frame. I’ve managed to do that so far, but know as both the weeks and questions waver in their difficulty and desirability that might not be possible… It’s also possible that I might rend some cursory and surface answer only to realize a real and personal answer is actually weeks away. God has a funny way of bringing past questions forward to remind us that although we might be “finished” with a topic, He might not be.


So the question for week one was this: Is there something in your life that needs to be brought back to life again?

After rambling for three paragraphs in my journal, I came up with this list:

- Joy needs to be revived.

- Prayer needs a new life.

- Hope for people, including myself.

The first was obvious, since Joy is my word for the year. Prayer seemed to be a possible action step to joy… And hope, well, that one seemed to write itself without any hesitation. That’s when you know it’s time to investigate.

I’ve been sitting in Isaiah for seven months with only periodic glimpses of the fact that Israel is me. God had hope for a people and things that did not have enough or know enough to have hope for themselves. God has hope because he knows all things. We don’t have hope because we think we know all things and what we know has made us feel empty.

Not knowing leaves us hopeless. Bleak circumstances make hope seem infinitely far away.

But we have promises. Promises and a God who has hope for us. So, when I don’t know, I hope. And I don’t hope with a wistful or shallow hope, I hope with a promise like what is written in Isaiah 64:3: “…you did awesome things that we did not expect…”

I have hope in a God who does things I don’t expect. My heart is revived that things will not always meet or fall to my expectations. Amen.

52 Questions: Week 2

On a rainy afternoon at a Wegmans a while back, one of my mentors encouraged me to meditate on the story of the alabaster jar. Sitting there, she read the passage aloud…


Mark 14: 1 - 9

Now the Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread were only two days away, and the chief priests and the teachers of the law were scheming to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him. “But not during the festival,” they said, “or the people may riot.”

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head.

Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly.

“Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

When she finished reading, she paused and simply said, “Those present thought it was a waste. To Jesus, it was the most precious thing in all the world, but to those present (some of which included the disciples) it was a waste.”

Then she followed with two simple questions:

1. Are you willing to waste yourself of Jesus?

2. What would it look like for you to waste yourself on Him?

So, these are the questions I am posing this week because while I did go home and reflect and meditate on the verses drawing out many valuable conclusions, I somehow managed to steer away from answering these two questions myself. Avoidance, even when unintentional, has a funny way of never lasting, so here’s to intentional digging in this second week.

52 Weeks of Questions

Sometime last year I did a vocational analysis for CS Lewis Institute. At the end, the person conducting the analysis made this point to me: There are things in my head that demand to be written and my mind won’t be satisfied until I let them out.

Interesting.

As we usher in a new year, I can’t help but come back to that point. Over the last couple of days, I have been streaming Passion 2012 (http://live.268generation.com) as much as I possibly can given that I still have to work.

The worship is awesome, the talks are amazing, but the one thing that is sticking right now is the questions. The questions are probing, convicting, unsettling disturbing… They’re the kind of questions we would love to ask someone, but might be too afraid to ask ourselves.

But then, I think that there are just things in our heads and our hearts that demand to be written down… And our heads, our hearts, our God will not be satisfied until we have created a holy disturbance in ourselves trying to answer and respond to these demanding questions. Jesus asked questions often. Not to get an answer, but in order to reveal the heart. It’s why we fear questions, but it’s also why questions make us grow.

Even as I type this, I have internal trepidation. My humanness has mastered both the art of deception and avoidance. It is not our nature to linger in discomfort, merely to absorb its blow and carry on the best we can. Truth be told, if we weren’t conscious or convicted Christians, we might passively live out the gospel pursuing only deceptive comfort and joy. Yes, this is the Holy Spirit which knocks on the door of our placated hearts and shows us it’s time for a question. The Holy Spirit even gives us the confidence and courage to answer it. And while, the gospel promises both comfort and joy, it does not promise them at the sake of forgetting heaven and falling in love with earth.

In the month leading up to Christmas, I decided to advent intentionally. It was a hard month with some unexpected circumstances, but blogging helped me to extract my heaven bound self from its earthly scenario. That said, I’d like my weeks in 2012 to be a little more intentional… And, though I say this cautiously, a little more disturbed. So we begin 52 weeks of questions. My personal hope? To not fear or flee from the hard questions… To take time to answer the probes that God and the saints put before me… To see God prove faithful to his promise of true comfort and true joy as I earnestly open every door in my heart, Christ’s home.
So, in light of being inspired by Passion 2012, here is the question posed by Louie Giglio last night:

Is there something in you that needs to be brought back to life again?





Side note: I’d love to hear any reflections people are having as they wade through these questions. Feel free to ask questions back. I love to learn from listening, so please know that your answers will be both a lesson and a gift to me too.