what's your dream. (everybody's got a dream.)

[Note: As you may (or may not) have noticed, I've taken a rather prolonged hiatus from blogging. I'm in the process of working on a completely new blog that will launch later this spring. Until then, I wasn't planning to do any writing. That was until my friend Justin Zoradi, founder/executive director of These Numbers Have Faces asked me to write a post as a part of the organization's We Have A Dream Week in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I loved the topic and really believe in the work of These Numbers, so I was happy to contribute.]

Dream job. Dream vacation. Dream car. Dream house. Dream girl (or perhaps in your case, dream guy).

Often times when we dream, if we allow ourselves to dream, these are the things that occupy our minds. We do so, because it brings us joy. Honestly, who doesn't enjoy thinking about, or maybe even researching, that distant location that you would love to visit one day? Have you ever toured an extravagant home just to see what a 500 sq. ft. bathroom looks like? Taken a flashy sports car on a test drive, knowing you'll never buy it? Imagined what you'd do if you won the lottery?

We love to dream. That's why I have my "50 Things To Do Before I Die List" posted on the side of my refrigerator. Please let me know if you've got a connection to help me ride in a blimp (#17).

But...

How often do we allow ourselves to dream big? No, think bigger. I'm talking about the kind of dream that requires a person to dedicate her/his entire life to its pursuit, even when there is no guarantee of its success. Clearly, it would be much easier not to. There is an immense amount of risk involved. Would we even dare?

Dr. King did. He not only allowed himself to dream, he shared his dream with the world. He lived it. He committed to it. Despite the seemingly insurmountable challenge that his dream sought to overcome. And ultimately, he died for it.

My favorite quote from Dr. King comes not from his famous speech on the Capitol Mall where his dream was outlined, but instead from a church in Memphis, hours before an assassin's bullet took his life and further ignited the dream.

"I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. So I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." (watch)

This quote expresses a distinct clarity of purpose and a belief that the dream is indeed attainable. It is these two characteristics that make such significant dreams worthy of pursuit. And moreso, make them possible.

These Numbers Have Faces operates from this same place of conviction and focus as it strives to achieve its dream of making higher education accessible to students from impoverished areas of South Africa. By doing so, the organization recognizes that not only will individual lives be transformed but entire communities as well. Their work is powerful. Impactful. But it is also daunting. Still, they have made the decision with conviction to invest in this dream. And in the process they have given their students the ability to dream, many for the first time in their lives.

Take Xolani, for example. This young man was raised in an extremely poor environment. (Think of what real poverty looks like, then double it. Then double it again.) Neither of his parents are employed, and the family relies heavily on government assistance. Despite the challenge of these conditions, Xolani had tremendous promise, but little hope. Through These Numbers Have Faces, there is now a legitimate reason for optimism. As a TNHF Scholar, Xolani is a third year accounting student.

Like Dr. King, Xolani has a dream. A dream that will have a profound impact on his community and the world. Using the education afforded him by These Numbers, Xolani dreams of transforming South Africa by fighting the corruption that has plagued his nation for generations. It is an audacious dream. It is daunting. It would be easier, safer, to dismiss the dream. But like Dr. King, Xolani has a distinct clarity of purpose and a belief that the dream is indeed attainable. And that makes the dream worth dreaming.

Xolani's dream and These Numbers Have Faces' dream is to transform the world. They are committed. And they are making these dreams a reality. I encourage you to check out These Numbers Have Faces. Read the incredible stories of lives transformed. And share these dreams with others, so that their impact will be expanded.

As for each of us, My hope is that we give ourselves permission to dream. Big. And then do it. C.S. Lewis' great character, Aslan, said it best: "Do not dare, not to dare."

a fresh perspective on an old story

It has been almost a year since I was fortunate enough to travel to alpine Europe to see the world-famous Passion Play at Oberammergau, Germany. I've thought about that experience often in the months that followed, and I've written numerous blog posts about it, in my head. (I apologize that you haven't had the chance to read them. Rest assured, they've been really well-written.) But as the calendar reached Holy Week, the impact of the play has rushed back, having altered forever my understanding and appreciation of God's atoning work through his Son accomplished during Holy Week.

The play itself is a beautifully poignant display of Jesus' final days on Earth. From its opening scene of the triumphal entry into Jerusalem with more than 1,000 people on stage waving palm fronds and shouting "Hosanna!", the tone is set for the telling of this timeless story, by which eternity itself was shaped. I expected the play to be good. After all, people have been making pilgrimages to this quaint mountain hamlet to see it performed for over 400 years. But I also had what seemed to be logical apprehensions of a play lasting five hours and conducted entirely in German (have I mentioned that I don't know German?). Without a doubt, every apprehension I had was summarily dismissed. The play was epic, and not in the way that a college student describes a memorable night on the town. Its impact on me was nothing short of profound. When it ended, I remember walking across town to the Pension Enzianhoff wrapped in awestruck wonder.

Last night, I thought about the scene that impacted me most: Jesus' prayer and arrest in the garden of Gethsemane. To understand what made this moment so memorable, let me provide some context. The auditorium has seating for 5,000, all of which is covered to protect the audience from the elements. The stage, on the other hand, is open air. Throughout the day the sun was bright and the sky was brilliant blue, as one would imagine it should be in the Alps. During the first half of the play, however, clouds appeared and slowly the blue sky was hidden entirely.

No doubt the story is familiar to many of us. Jesus enters the garden with several of his disciples to pray. It is here that the Son of God agonizes over the knowledge of what He has been sent to do, to accomplish. His soul is troubled by the ultimate test of surrendering one's will to that of the Father. He fervently cries out to the Lord, praying that if another course is possible He would welcome it, and if not, He would embrace his cup. So passionate are his prayers that He is sweating blood. All of this while his disciples have fallen asleep. I imagine that this scene is powerful to all who see, but it was different for those that watched it that night in June.

As Jesus walked to center stage, knelt down, and began to pray, remarkably a ray of sunlight split the clouds and fell precisely where Jesus was praying. You must know that this was not special lighting, nor any theatrically produced occurrence. The sunlight pierced the auditorium from low on the horizon in a way that only God himself could have orchestrated. Even the actors seemed to be inspired by the Lord's special effects and timing with the appearance of the angel that God sent to comfort Jesus as he prayed. The short burst of sunlight faded and moments later the mob of soldiers, Judas leading the way, entered the stage to arrest the Savior. Again, God showed up. After Jesus restored the soldier's ear cut off by Peter, an ever-so-light rain began to fall. It continued as the soldiers bound Jesus and slowly led him off stage. It was a refreshing rain. Cleansing. Not angry or hard. And in some ways it was an assuring rain, as if the Lord were illustrating that He was in control then, and he is still in control today. That all of this took place for His glory alone, so that He might wash and restore each one of us.

At the conclusion of the scene, the 50-person choir entered the stage and powerfully sang these words:

The battle of agony has begun,
begun at Gethsemane.
You sinner, take this to heart,
never forget this scene!
For your salvation this took place,
what you saw on Mount Olive.

"Never forget this scene." How could I? Why would I ever let myself do such a thing? The Lord showed up. He stirred my heart. He game me a tangible image of his love and sovereignty.

As we continue Holy Week, I hope that you too will be stirred by His faithfulness. "Take this to heart, never forget this scene! For your salvation this took place, what you saw on Mount Olive."

dancing in the minefields

Absolutely beautiful. That was my reaction the first time I heard Andrew Peterson's "Dancing in the Minefields." In what seems like a near perfect blend of songwriting and lyricism, where every note is intricately placed and each word meticulously selected to communicate the weightiness of the message, the song's delivery is haunting in its brilliance. I felt as if finally, someone had been courageous enough to be honest with the subject of marriage.

You see, I believe that one of the biggest challenges to marriage today is that most people have an incorrect perception of what it is to be, what it should look like, and most importantly what is realistic. We have wholly bought into the unattainable media-inspired image of marriage portrayed in romantic comedies, fanciful literature, and popular song. And in doing so, we fail to recognize the mounting personal and statistical evidence that marriage is actually much harder than any of us realize, or at least are willing to admit.

Don't get me wrong, I like that image too. What's not to like? Ask those around me and you'll find that I am a huge romantic, probably more so than most. But I am also pragmatic enough to see that our expectations fail to match the gravity of reality. At issue is not that we want the "happily ever after," but instead that we merely assume it will come to pass when vows are exchanged. It can and does, but only when we resolutely commit to achieving it as a team. Unfortunately, most look for, and even expect, automatic wedded bliss, perfection. And as a result, we are vastly disappointed, offended even, when it doesn't just happen.

That, more than anything, is what I love about this song. Peterson doesn't mince words while refuting the popular notion that marriage is easy. With an authentic realism, much needed in this world, he frames marriage correctly, expressing the need to doggedly hold firm to "the promise" by continually laying ourselves down for one another, lifting her/his needs above our own, and supporting her/him when they lose their way. It is journey fraught with danger, but together we can dance through it all, bad or good.

Watch the video. Listen to the words, letting them penetrate your heart. I think it will be clear why this is one of my favorite songs. And it's quite possible that it will become one of yours as well. 



Here's something that Peterson wrote about this song. Again, I think he nails it.

"In December of 2009 my wife and I celebrated fifteen years of marriage. A few days later, we got in a silly argument and I wrote this song after she went to bed. Marriage, see, was God’s idea. It’s one of the most potent metaphors in all of Scripture for the way God loves us and the way we’re to let ourselves be loved by him. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. To the contrary, it’s fraught with peril. Any good marriage involves a thousand deaths to self—the good news is, in Christ that marriage involves at least as many resurrections. We lay our lives down and enter this perilous dance with another human being who has done the same. Why should we expect to emerge unscathed?"

Why indeed?

I'm anxious to hear your thoughts and reactions to the song and video. Please share your comments below. If you are married, I especially want to hear from you. Does this song resonate with your own experience? What would you add? 

As for me, I long to start dancing. I'm just waiting for my dance partner. 

Don't give up. Don't give up on me. Don't give up. Don't give up on me. Don't give up. Don't give up on me.

your love

I met Brandon Heath Knell shortly after he arrived at Young Life's Malibu Club (in Canada) for the first time. He was a teenager, and I had just finished my first year of college. We served on the Outdoor Crew together for three weeks, I as the Summer Staff Garbage Man, and Brandon as the Work Crew kid that sat in the rubber dingy at the bottom of the zip line.

From time to time, Brandon would pick up a guitar and play. I don't remember if it was his, hauled all the way from his hometown of Nashville. But it doesn't really matter to the story, so I'll move on. He had a great voice and was a pretty good songwriter. On two occasions we were able to convince him to sing his original song "The Light" at the talent night that concluded each week at camp. He was a hit with campers and the staff. During his three-week stint on Work Crew, many of us encouraged him to pursue a singing career. But he would always dismiss it. His passion and direction were clear: writing Christian music...for other Christian artists.

Brandon became a pretty good friend at Malibu. We even stayed in contact by letter in the months that followed. E-mail had yet to overtake the U.S. Postal Service and Brandon had yet to start college, which in those years was when most people got their first email address.

Of course, this was all before Brandon Heath Knell became Brandon Heath, Christian music superstar. That's right, this same kid that sat in a dingy, permanently water-logged, for 12 hours each day is now a five-time Dove Award winner, two times winning Male Vocalist of the Year honors. He's a two-time Grammy nominee who recently headlined a nationwide tour. And he is the singer/songwriter of the next song in my series, "Your Love."

It's actually been hard deciding what to write about this song. It is just one of those songs that resonates in my heart. The melody. The lyrics. The honest assessment of his journey to the realization revealed in the chorus "Your love. Your love. The only thing that matters is Your love." Of course, I also think it is awesome that the producers autotune Brandon in the studio version!

Still, what I love most about this song are the verses, mainly because I see myself in each of them. They describe where my life's journey has taken me and where I find myself today.

I felt it first when I was younger,
A strange connection to the light.
I tried to satisfy the hunger.
I never got it right.

So I climbed a mountain and built an altar.
Looked out as far as I could see.
And everyday I’m getting older.
I’m running outta dreams. 

You know the effort I have given.
And you know exactly what it cost.
And though my innocence was taken.
Not everything is lost.

I'm posting a video so that you can hear today's song. In addition to a live acoustic version (starting about one minute in), it also reveals the heart behind the song, namely that striving for and attaining success is meaningless if we don't have love and know peace.



And to think, somewhere I still have a cassette tape that Brandon recorded for me in his bedroom after we both returned home from Malibu. A few years ago we talked about that tape. His preference was for it's destruction; instead, I keep it as a reminder of my friend from all those years ago working at the bottom of the zip line.

So, what do you think of this song? I want to hear from you. Be honest. Do you like it? Do you think it's drivel? Don't worry, I won't tell Brandon. Are you rethinking Christian music yet? And speaking of which, how bout we take a quick poll. At least answer me this: In general, do you like Christian music?

hallelujah

I'm starting this series about Christian music, and a few songs that just might force you to reconsider your typical knee-jerk reaction to the genre, by focusing on a powerful song that I only recently began to pay attention to: "Hallelujah" by Heather Williams.

Starting with a few notes played on a piano, the song calmly takes form. It is soft, sweet. There is something simple, maybe even joyful in the notes. The lyrics begin, revealing, or at least implying, a deep hurt longing to be comforted. They are the words of a heart calling out for the Lord to be present, to enter into the pain.  

Jesus, please come.
Please come, today.
Heal me.
Hear me.
Be near me, I pray.

Slowly, the music begins to grow. And along with it, an increasing sense of urgency and sincerity takes shape.

I have fallen so far,
flat on my face.
I'm in need of your grace today.
I stumble and fall,
but in spite of it all 
your love always stays the same.
Hallelujah.
Hallelujah. 

Jesus, please come.
Please come, today.
Break me.
Mold me.
Use me, I pray.

But don't give up on me now.
I'm so close to you now.
I'm in need of your grace today.
Wipe the dirt off my face.
Hold me in your embrace.
Your love always saves the day.

And suddenly, what began as a melodious prayer erupts into an intense anthem. The words no longer sung, but rather belted from someplace deep within, unknown to the listener just moments before. The dramatic crescendo still follows the cry of the heart, rooted in hurt. But it is now hopeful. Powerful. Victorious. 

Hallelujah!
Hallelujah! 

On my knees here I fall,
in spite of it all.
Hallelujah!
And though it seems hard,
I'm still trusting you Lord.
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!

The music fades, and the piano softly returns. But the calm is brief as the "hallelujahs" are once again sung in a powerful refrain proclaiming the Lord's faithfulness in the most difficult situations. 

I have fallen so far,
flat on my face.
I'm in need of your grace, today.
Hallelujah!
Hallelujah!

Jesus, please come.
Please come, today.

Now, it's your turn. Listen to the song and let me know what you think.

And in case you're wondering, Heather Williams wrote this song one year after her baby son died. In a moment of brokenness, she grabbed her husband's guitar and began to write, sing, and pray. This song was the result. It was an attempt to praise the Lord despite the tears, the hurt, and the lasting pain of losing her child. It was successful. In the midst of it all, she chose to trust and to sing "Hallelujah."

this is my confession

"Music brings people together!"

My friend and former colleague Christina made this declaration several years ago as she explained her incredible love of music. We were sitting in her office in the Student Union Building, probably talking about the most recent concert she had attended, or the next one she had tickets for. She is, after all, quite the concert enthusiast. As she shared, her excitement grew, and by the time she made this statement, she had achieved a state of frenzied bliss. Despite her enthusiasm, however, I felt the need to challenge her assertion.

To a certain extent, music does bring people together. Picture Dead Heads converging on Autzen Stadium, Parrot Heads wasting away in Margaritaville, or the millions scooping up Taylor Swift tickets like they were precious gems, and you can see that it's true. At the same time, music also has the ability to divide people. Ask one of the Greatest Generation what they think of rap. Ask a teenager about jazz. For that matter, ask anyone about Michael Bolton. The fact is the same characteristics of music that bring people together, can also serve to segregate the masses.

From classic rock to classical, hip-hop to country, I enjoy songs from across the broad musical spectrum. Certainly, I care for some genres more than others, and I have several "go-to's" programmed into my car stereo. But in general, I am fairly content with just about anything emanating from the ear buds of my blue iPod Nano.

My guess is that many of you may still agree with me at this point. But now I come to my confession, which I am making, in part, to fulfill the title of this blog. I recognize that this may cause you to judge me, and may result in the loss of what little readership I have left after eight months away. But my conscience requires nothing less than complete honesty. Here goes. I like Christian music.

There I said it.

Let me be clear, I'm not just talking about worship music here. I'm talking about what you hear on radio stations like The Fish, K-Love, Air1, or whatever Scripturally-sound and uplifting name your local station goes by. I make this confession because I often find myself surprised that Christian music is so divisive, especially in the Church. Some people (dare I say) swear by it. And some can hardly stomach it. I have good friends firmly residing in each camp. Other people are closet fans, listening to it regularly but hiding it as if it were a vice. One good friend sheepishly admits to loving the songs of Steven Curtis Chapman, stopping just short of apologizing or trying to justify her fondness for them. And she shouldn't have to. He writes some really good music. But still, that divisiveness is present. Stop for a moment and ponder the feelings that welled in you a few moments ago when you read the words "Christian music."

Like all musical genres, Christian music does have its share of kitschy songs. You know the ones. The songs that make you cringe while quickly changing the station; or the ones that despite a catchy tune, are overly simple or trite. Unfortunately, I think that many people judge the entire genre on the basis of these songs.

Over the next few days, I will post my first-ever blog series, highlighting several Christian songs that in my opinion are outstanding. They are ones that you may or may not have heard before, but that doesn't really matter. Check them out and give me your thoughts. I hope you enjoy, and if you tend to fall into the anti-Christian music faction, perhaps you'll reconsider your position and let the music bring us together.

your love never fails

It's been awhile, but I'm feeling a bit contemplative. So here I am. There is more to come, more to say. But for now, I'm just going to share a song from worship this morning. It speaks to the Lord's enduring love and faithfulness, even when we fall down or the odds are at their longest.  "Your Love Never Fails" by Chris McClarney & Anthony SkinnerNothing can separate
Even if I ran away
Your love never fails

I know I still make mistakes
But You have new mercies for me everyday
Your love never fails

Chorus: You stay the same through the ages
Your love never changes
There maybe pain in the night but joy comes in the morning
And when the oceans rage
I don't have to be afraid
Because I know that You love me
Your love never fails
The wind is strong and the water's deep
But I'm not alone in these open seas
Cause Your love never fails

The chasm was far too wide
I never thought I'd reach the other side
But Your love never fails
Bridge:You make all things work together for my good

capturing the beauty of adventure

Travel and photography are two of my greatest passions. I don't have (or make) enough time for either, but still, I love them.

For me, travel is both an adventure and a chance to experience God in another part of his creation. This is true whether I am following a stream through a secluded slot canyon or purposefully getting lost in the backstreets of Beijing. The mere act of exploration of the unfamiliar provides the adventure; and my mere presence in the unfamiliar allows me to see and hear God in new ways.

In the book Blue Like Jazz, author Donald Miller talks about reaching the point when he felt stale, tired. He needed to rediscover himself and have a fresh encounter with God. So he set out to explore what he refers to as "the green lumpy places," those places he'd never experienced. Not surprisingly, stepping into those places created the space to achieve both. Similarly, I find that I need the experience of "the green lumpy places" for the same reasons. When I feel stale, time away provides clarity, growth, and much needed time with God.

Whereas travel provides some adventure, photography is a primary outlet for my creativity. I love the challenge of accurately capturing the beauty that I encounter in life, so that I might both remember the moment rightly and share that beauty with others. For me it isn't enough to aim the camera and push the release. I look closer, attempting to see the subject as no one else does, searching for the subtlety and nuance that make it beautiful. Most of the time, I fail to achieve the results I hope for. A large majority of the photographs I take remain unseen. But again, it is the challenge of this pursuit that I love. And from time to time, I do succeed.

The great thing about these two passions is that they flow together so seamlessly. When I travel, my camera is seldom out of reach. Not only do I get the adventure and a fresh encounter with God, but I also get the opportunity to capture those moments and share their beauty with others. 

Here are a few of my favorite photographs from my recent trip to Europe. I've decided not to add commentary or captions for any of them. Anything I write would fail to capture the moments, feelings, and beauty of each experience any better than the photographs themselves. 

I would like to know what you think of them, however. Feel free to write a comment. Let me know which you like best, what they stir up in you (if anything), and any other thoughts or feedback you care to offer.

perturbations of love

A few days ago I came across a powerful quote from the book The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis. It touches on a theme that I've blogged about in the past, so I felt like sharing it here. As usual, there is so much that I want to say, so much that I could unpack. Instead, I'll just let Lewis' words speak for themselves.

"The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

a day to celebrate

Today is Father's Day. A special day when the world (or at least the United States) pauses to celebrate our Dad's. We honor them for the significant role that they played and continue to play in our lives. We pay tribute to them for their continuous and tireless care that they have exhibited over the course of many years. We thank them for being there for us when we need them, for guiding us, for teaching us, for raising us, for putting up with us, for supporting us, and most importantly for loving us.  

I love my dad and am so incredibly proud of him. Several months ago I watched as he was honored by hundreds of colleagues upon retiring after 35 years with the same company. It was amazing to see and hear the ways that he impacted those around him from 8 a.m.-5 p.m. (more like 6:30 a.m.-6:30 a.m.). It helped me realize, again, just how much of an impact he has made on me and how fortunate I am to call him dad. I am sure that he would say that he wasn't the perfect dad (Is there such a thing?) and that he just tried to do the best he could. At that, I think he succeeded.

To put his impact on me in perspective, here's a bit of authenticity...My greatest fear is not being a dad. Because of him, I have a deep longing to have, raise, nurture, and love children of my own. Taking what I learned from him, I'm sure I'll be pretty good at it too! Okay...enough about me.

As much as I want this post to honor my dad, there is something much more significant to recognize today. In addition to Father's Day, this is also the 40th Anniversary of my parents' wedding. That's right, on Saturday, June 20, 1970, my parents got married at St. Mark's Lutheran Church in southeast Portland.

In the 40 years since, their love has continued to grow. Their marriage has been an amazing testimony to their love for each other and the faithfulness of the Lord. They have had many incredible adventures together and share wonderful memories of their time together. They have also been through some extremely difficult times. And yet, in those moments of anguish, pain, and uncertainty, their love and faith brought them through circumstances that could have easily torn them apart, further strengthening their love for each other and faith in God.

Congratulations Mom and Dad! I am so proud to be your son. I love you both so much and am so thankful for your example of a loving marriage. I hope that someday I will have a love like yours, one that grows each day and is better 40 years later than it was on day 1.

And speaking of day 1, let's take a look back...

Mr. & Mrs. Robert D. Larson (no "Sr." yet)...

The Toast...

Leaving the church...don't they look good?

And they're off in the fully decorated Volkswagen Beetle!

those who love you

Over the past few days, I've thought of many things that I want to blog about: my first European adventure, the Passion Play at Oberammergau, whitewater kayaking, turning a year older, friends, relationships, love, gardening, the list goes on. Of course there is plenty of the usual stuff as well (i.e. things that the Lord has been teaching me).

I hope to get to all of this at some point in the coming weeks. But before I do, I thought I would share this quote that I came across two days ago. It comes from the story "They're Singing Your Song" as told by Alan Cohen in his book Wisdom of the Heart. The full story, whether true or not, is fairly inspiring; although, to be honest it reads a bit like something you would find in an email forward with instructions to pass it on to everyone in your address book. Still, this part of the story speaks to my heart. I hope you are as encouraged by it as I have been.

"Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused."

I am incredibly thankful for the people in my life (a number of which who are probably reading this post) who love me like this. In the past few months, I have needed it more than you know. The mistakes I've made are too many to count, many of them causing hurt in these same people (you). There have been many days when darkness overwhelmed me and caused me to doubt. I have been, and still am, broken. I have felt the heady dose of guilt. And confusion has been my constant companion as I try to find my way through the fog. Yet, these people (you) have continued to love me through it all, recognizing the truth and encouraging me along the rocky path that was laid out for me, pointing me to God and his incredible faithfulness.

The flip side of this quote is that it communicates how I attempt/want to love others, especially those closest to me. If (and when) you make mistakes or begin to believe the lies and negative thoughts about yourself, whatever their source, I'm not fooled. I see the truth, your worth. I see the real you. I want to remind you of the inherent beauty that God created in you (Psalm 139:13-14); that although broken, you are indeed whole as He holds you together (Colossians 1:17); that in Christ, God sees not your failures but your perfection and innocence (1 Corinthians 1:30); and that even though your way may be unclear, God goes before you (Isaiah 45:2).

This is how I want to love and how I want to be loved.

As usual, I've said more than I planned. I really wanted to let this quote speak for itself. But I like what I wrote, so I'm gonna leave it.

cautiously carefree

About a month ago, I hit a wall. In an attempt to process the unexpected twists and turns in my life, I had been pouring over books, sermons, devotionals, Bible studies, and anything else that I could find that might help make sense of my circumstances. Although I enjoy reading, I wouldn't characterize myself as a reader. And yet, over the span of a month and a half, I read seven books and had started 3-4 others. Add to that the variety of other sources that I was consuming, and I soon became overwhelmed trying to process it all. I needed a break, but mostly, I needed to stop trying. I needed to just be.

A familiar passage in Psalm 46 says, "Be still, and know that I am God." One Bible commentary describes the Hebrew translation of the Lord's sentiment as simply, "Enough!" It's an apt description of how I was feeling. So, I stopped. Stopped trying, stopped doing, stopped striving, and just was. (You may have noticed, or perhaps not, a sudden drop off on my blog. That's why.)  

Last week, I finally picked up My Utmost for His Highest again. As usual, the Lord's timing was perfect, as Chambers' words again spoke a confirming word to my heart. Here's an excerpt of one of the first devotionals I came across...

Having God's "Unreasonable" Faith
“Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” (Matthew 6:33)

“When we look at these words of Jesus, we immediately find them to be the most revolutionary that human ears have ever heard. “. . . seek first the kingdom of God . . . .” Even the most spiritually-minded of us argue the exact opposite, saying, “But I must live; I must make a certain amount of money; I must be clothed; I must be fed.” The great concern of our lives is not the kingdom of God but how we are going to take care of ourselves to live. Jesus reversed the order by telling us to get the right relationship with God first, maintaining it as the primary concern of our lives, and never to place our concern on taking care of the other things of life.

“. . . do not worry about your life. . .” (Matthew 6:25). Our Lord pointed out that from His standpoint it is absolutely unreasonable for us to be anxious, worrying about how we will live. Jesus did not say that the person who takes no thought for anything in his life is blessed— no, that person is a fool. But Jesus did teach that His disciple must make his relationship with God the dominating focus of his life, and to be cautiously carefree about everything else in comparison to that . . . . Jesus is saying that the greatest concern of life is to place our relationship with God first, and everything else second.”

I have been meditating on Matthew 6:33-34 for several weeks and am convinced that in Jesus' words are incredible power and complete freedom for all believers. So why do we continuously fail to take them to heart? Why are we so unwilling to yield (our illusion of) control of the minor (and sometimes seemingly major) things to the Lord, and simply seek Him?

I appreciate the way that Chambers looks at the matter from Christ's perspective. Through His eyes, it is "absolutely unreasonable for us to be anxious." So true. And yet, most of us possessively hang on to a certain amount of anxiety as if it were our safety blanket. Instead, we must live a life that is "cautiously carefree" in regards to all but Christ. The remarkable promise of such a life, is that in doing so, "all these things shall be added to you (us)." With our faith properly centered in Christ, we have no need for anxiety or worry. Oh, that we might actually believe the words of Jesus and live in light of His truth each day.

Therefore, let us not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.

a confirming word

Once again, I find myself struck by the timeliness of one of Oswald Chambers' daily readings from My Utmost For His Highest. The devotional for today connects well with an email that I got from a friend late last night after I had already gone to bed. I was encouraged by the email, and this reading confirms much of what the Lord has been teaching my friend, as well as myself. Initially, I found myself in awe at the aptness of the devotional; then I was reminded of the Lord's goodness and his constant work in our lives. I am still in awe, but in light of his goodness, not surprised.

Inner Invincibility

"Whom the Lord love He chastens..."(Hebrews 12:6). How petty our complaining is! Our Lord begins to bring us to the point where we can have fellowship with Him, only to hear us moan and groan, saying, "Oh Lord, just let me be like other people!" Jesus is asking us to get beside Him and take one end of the yoke, so that we can pull together. That's why Jesus says to us, "My yoke is easy and My burden is light" (Matthew 11:30). Are you closely identified with the Lord Jesus like that? If so, you will thank God when you feel the pressure of His hand upon you.

"'...to those who have no might He increases strength' (Isaiah 40:29). God comes and takes us out of our emotionalism, and then our complaining turns into a hymn of praise. The only way to know the strength of God is to take the yoke of Jesus upon us and to learn from Him.

"'...the joy of the Lord is your strength' (Nehemiah 8:10). Where do the saints get their joy? If we did not know some Christians well, we might think from just observing them that they have no burdens at all to bear. But we might lift the veil from our eyes. The fact that the peace, light, and joy of God is in them is proof that a burden is there as well. The burden that God places on us squeezes the grapes in our lives and produces wine., but most of us see only the wind and not the burden. No power on earth or in hell can conquer the Spirit of God living within the human spirit; it creates and inner invincibility.

"If your life is producing only a whine, instead of the wine, then ruthlessly kick it out. It is definitely a crime for a Christian to be weak in God's strength."

yielding control

As was the case a few weeks back, yesterday's message at Colossae was exactly what I needed to hear the Lord speak into my life. Based on the final section of 1 Peter, Chuck titled the message "Humility and Faith vs. Pride and Anxiety." At it's core, the message was focused on our deep need to humbly yield to the God our desire for control, our desire to know what is going on in our lives, and the resulting anxiety and stress, so that we might stand firm in our faith and live accordingly.

The Lord is our faithful creator (4:19), He has a mighty hand (5:6), and He is good (5:7). And still I (we) struggle to yield control and entrust my life to him; pride, and more specifically arrogance, gets in the way, compelling me to try and wrest control of my circumstances away from the One that is actually in control and who's best I actually want for my life. To live a life of faith, however, I must trust him from the core of my being, with the entirety of my being. Humility lives in faith, even amidst uncertainty.

There is far more to this message that I'm not touching on here. I've heard it twice and am still processing the first two verses. My intent here is merely to begin working through it for myself and to share it with others that also have a hard time yielding control of their circumstances to God. If that's you, please listen to it.

God's peace...   

1 Peter 5:6-11
"Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings. And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen."

six point two

Yesterday morning I ran 6.2 miles in Champoeg Park. It was the annual Tilikum 10K race to raise money for summer camp scholarships for the camp just west of Newberg. This was the third year that I considered participating, but the first time I've actually done so. In fact, this was only the third time in my life that I've ever run so far.

The first time was when as a high school freshman, I decided that participating in a 10K walk for a local food bank was boring and decided to run the entire route instead. Chalk that one up to the boundless energy of a 15-year-old that was too impatient (and/or stubborn) to walk with a bunch of older people from local churches.

The other time I ran this distance was in January 2008. A good friend invited me to go for a run with her, and wanting to spend as much time with her as possible, I eagerly agreed. Nevermind that I hadn't been on a run of any length since the previous June. Nevermind that it was the dead of winter, the prospect of snow looming overhead. Nevermind that only a few years earlier this same friend had completed a half marathon, and from time to time would secretly contemplate the idea of running a full marathon (which I still think she will do at some point). Nevermind all of these facts, because that's what I did.

Let me be clear, I did not expect this run to last 6.2 miles. Based on her comments about starting to run after a lengthy layoff, I reasonably assumed the run would last only a few miles. We'd jog for a half hour or so, build up a sweat, maybe feel the muscles start to burn, and then call it good. I was wrong. Unbeknownst to me, we took off on a hilly out-and-back route that continued to go "out" much farther than I would have hoped. But feeling my heavy legs, I refused to slow down or give in at all, even as the snow began falling on us. She'd charge up a hill, and I'd charge right alongside her. Throughout the run we talked and even laughed from time to time.

When we made the final turn, she complimented me for keeping up and attacking the hills. I laughed it off, admitting that it was just my pride that wouldn't allow me to slow down, which was true. Ultimately however, I'm thankful for the unexpected length of our run. It was an incredibly memorable experience that I won't soon forget. Our run also proved that I had something in me that I didn't even know was there, even if it only manifest itself because of my pride. Chalk that one up to a guy's willingness to do just about anything to impress the girl he likes. Months later, she admitted that our run had been a bit of a test, and I had passed.

And so I came to yesterday's 6.2 mile race knowing that it was physically possible for me to run the course laid out along the Willamette River. But unlike my first time 16 years earlier,  I couldn't rely on abundant energy to carry me through to the finish line. And unlike my run two years ago, my masculine pride and desire to impress a beautiful girl wasn't the overwhelming motivation to run strong and finish the race. Instead, I was running to challenge myself, to push myself beyond what is comfortable. And I was running to prove that I could do it. Simply put, I was running for me.

Along the way there were times when I questioned whether I actually had what it takes, whether I would actually finish without having to walk a portion of the course. Over an over I found myself praying for strength.  Even as I made the final turn with a quarter of a mile to go, my legs were done and my lungs were burning. I had gone out faster than I had planned, and I could feel the consequences with every stride. But I wanted to finish strong, to press on toward the goal. As the finish line came into view, I ran faster, mustering every bit of strength from deep within.

I finished the race in 51 minutes and 59 seconds, nearly 3 minutes ahead of my goal. Crossing the line, I truly felt like I had nothing left. I had used every bit of strength that God had given me and it felt good.

This wasn't my fastest 6.2 mile run, nor was it my most memorable. But it was the most satisfying. I ran for me, in the strength that He provided, and I finished the race strong.

the promise of exile

Jeremiah 29:11.

We all know it. Come on, say it with me. "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"

What an incredible verse! It is an amazing promise that God gives to his people, the people of Israel. And it is one that we are wise to remember and cling to today. And we do. When times get rough and the storm clouds start to build we take refuge in the strength of His word. We share it with others that could use some encouragement (like the time I told my college roommate to read it as he was questioning his future. Of course, I told him to read Jeremiah 28:11 instead. Read that one sometime...completely different message). I know people that have this verse tattooed on them, so as not to forget it when times get tough. We love this verse. And why shouldn't we? It shows God's sovereign hand at work in our lives. 

But, in most cases we fail to look at it in context. I am not saying that it is untrue, or that we shouldn't take solace in the strength that God exhibits here. It is, and by all means we should! I am merely saying that we should look at the broader context of this verse.

In this section, God is talking specifically to "all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon" (v. 4). His people had been removed from the land that He had promised their ancestors; land that He had given to them. It was the land that God wanted them to be. And yet, he removed, or "carried," them to another place, exile. Actually, this context fits well with those circumstances in which we usually return to this verse. Times of challenge, times when we are found in the desert, times when it seems like what God has promised or provided us has been taken away. Like Israel, we are confused, frustrated, even brokenhearted.

God doesn't give Israel his remarkable promise just yet, however. Instead, He tells them to wait, even in the midst of their exile. In fact, he goes so far as to command them to "Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters" (v. 5-6). And He goes on, telling them to increase, not decrease, while they are in exile. He commands them to "seek the peace and prosperity of the city" (v. 7) where he has brought them. They are to pray for the city "because if it prospers, you too will prosper" (v. 7). In their exile, in their pain, confusion, and brokenheartedness, God commands them to not only wait but to seek the prosperity of the place that He has placed them in. I don't think we often consider this part of the story. The promise is so lovely and tempting that we skip right to it. (In my Bible, verse 11 is the only one highlighted.)  

After commanding his people to wait, to settle, to seek the prosperity of their exile, He comes to the promise by giving them a timeline. "When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place" (v. 10). And with that said, God makes our much-beloved, oft-quoted promise to His people (v. 11).

God called His people to wait in exile, but He also calls he, to so much more. They were not to sit on their hands. Instead, He calls them to wait by going about their lives in an upright manner, seeking good in exile. It's a point similar to that of my recent post called "the beauty of suffering." In our sufferings, trials, or challenging circumstances, we must seek joy in the Lord, as these moments will grow our faith in significant ways. Indeed, these moments prove our faith in Him.

The last part of this section continues the beautiful promise of God to His people. (Why don't we all know this part?) "'Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,' declares the Lord, 'and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,' declares the Lord, 'and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile'" (v. 12-14).

The Lord does know the plans that He has for us, because He alone is sovereign. His best is what He wants for us and what He has in store for us. He has plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us hope and a future. As we cling to this promise though, especially in the midst of our own personal exile, we must recognize that God "carries" us into these times for a reason. And while we are in them, we should settle down and wait on Him. I'm not specifically advocating that we build a home, plant a garden, get married, and have kids and grandchildren. But I am saying that we need to be obedient to Him and the circumstances that he places us in. We must settle ourselves and seek to grow and prosper in these times. And then, oh, then, God's promise will reassure us and He will bring us back from captivity, back to the place from which He carried us into exile, back with a stronger faith and stronger desire for His will in our lives.

a good reminder on easter

Today's devotional in My Utmost for His Highest addresses some of the things that I have been thinking through and processing for the past month or so. It deals with the questions of where we place our trust and where we derive our hope, particularly in those times when we are "scattered." The underlying Scripture for this reading is John 16:32 as Jesus tells his disciples that a time is coming when they will be scattered and no longer in his immediate presence.

I share here the majority of the devotional...

The Way To Permanent Faith

"...We will be scattered, not into service but into the emptiness of our lives where we will see ruin and barrenness, to know what internal death to God's blessing means. Are we prepared for this? It is certainly not of our own choosing, but God engineers our circumstances to take us there. Until we have been through that experience, our faith is sustained only by feelings and by blessings. But once we get there, no matter where God may place us or what inner emptiness we expereince, we can praise God that all is well. That is what is meant by faith being exercised in the realities of life.

"'...you...will leave Me alone.' Have we been scattered and have we left Jesus alone by not seeing His providential care for us? Do we not see God at work in our circumstances? Dark times are allowed and come to us through the sovereignty of God. Are we prepared to be separated from the outward, evident blessings of God? Until Jesus Christ is truly our Lord, we each have goals of our own which we serve. Our faith is real, but it is not yet permanent. And God is never in a hurry. If we are willing to wait, we will see God pointing out that we have been interested only in His blessings, instead of in God Himself. The sense of God's blessings is fundamental.

"'...be of good cheer, I have overcome the world' (16:33). Unyielding spiritual fortitude is what we need."

Twice in this reading, Chambers uses the phrase "Are we prepared..." I have found that, in significant ways, I was unprepared spiritually to be taken to this place. Clearly, I have had my own goals which I serve. Fortunately for me, "God is never in a hurry." And so I return again to the place of waiting; and I wait with expectancy of the goodness of my risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

He is risen. He is risen, indeed!

Happy Easter.

the necessity of not pushing through

I came across the following excerpt from Frederick Buechner's The Sacred Journey this afternoon and it struck a chord in my heart. Most of the time, I am pretty confident in my own ability to get through life. Whether in times of ease or difficult situations, I have a tendency to bear down and push through my circumstances. As Buechner states, however, this is the very thing that I should refrain from, as doing so will force me to miss the opportunities for growth that are present in that experience. If I don't allow myself to be open to the possibility of a heart transformation, I may miss the Lord's entire purpose behind the circumstance. And what a shame that would be, all because I think I can get through it on my own. 

"To do for yourself the best that you have it in you to do - to grit your teeth and clench your firsts in order to survive the world at its harshest and worst - is, by that very act, to be unable to let something be done for you and in you that is more wonderful still. The trouble with steeling yourself against the harshness of reality is that the same steel that secures your life against being destroyed secures your life also against being opened up and transformed."

house of God, forever

In recent days, I have found myself returning again and again to Psalm 23. As one of the better known Psalms, if not the best known, I usually focus my attention elsewhere. Selfishly, I prefer to dig a little more,  looking for nuggets of wisdom that are not so common, and therefore less likely to be displayed in needlepoint on the wall of someone's dining room (My apologies if this is the case at your house). But this week, it has caught my eye and my heart in a variety of ways.

I came across it while searching out another specific verse that I couldn't quite remember the location of. Then sitting my car, I saw a quick note I had written in my small car/travel Bible that reminded me of witnessing nearly a thousand Chinese Christians recite this verse (in Chinese) this past summer during my 10-day trip to Beijing and Shanghai. This stirred a great deal of memory and emotion that I had let slip in the 8 months since I returned. Yesterday, sitting in a coffee shop, I heard Jon Foreman's song "House of God, Forever" come on my iTunes. Although I may write more later about the Psalm itself, it is this song where I want to park for now.

This song is a simple acoustic retelling of Psalm 23. Foreman doesn't add to or take anything away from the Scripture itself. He just sings with pure faith, hope, and love that the words are true. My favorite thing about the song itself, however, is that it is sung twice, once each by a man and a woman. There is intense beauty in this arrangement, as each voice professes theses words to their Maker individually. It demonstrates that King David's profession of joyful trust is accessible for all of us whoever and wherever we find ourselves. And as the voices join one another for the final refrain, there is a strong sense of shared trust in the Lord's direction and provision for their lives.

"House of God, Forever" by Jon Foreman
God is my shepherd
I won't be wanting
I won't be wanting
He makes me rest
In fields of green
With quite streams
Even though I walk
Through the valley
Of death and dying
I will not fear
'Cause you are with me
You are with me

Your shepherd staff
Comforts me
You are my feast
In the presence of enemy
Surely goodness
Follow me
Follow me
In the house of God, forever

words that got me today

From Chris Tomlin's song "Enough"

More than all I want
More than all I need
You are more than enough for me
More than all I know
More than all I can say
You are more than enough for me

Lately I've been struggling with what I want and what I need. It seems that what I know, or think I know, is being questioned and it's been a challenge to find the words to express my feelings. Still, it is true that God is more than enough for me (and you), even if I have a hard time recognizing it in the moment.  

"Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you." -Psalm 55:22