Eclipse

I've been watching some Louie Giglio videos lately.  So what I'm trying to say is this:  The universe is fascinating and reflects the glory of God.  Anyhow, now that I have that off my chest, I feel free to talk about what's on my mind.

Did you know that the sun is 400 times bigger than the moon in diameter?  It's a fact, and the earth is also smaller than the sun, by about 100 times.  So the moon is the smallest of the three, the sun is the biggest, and the earth is right there in between. 

The moon is constantly orbiting the earth, constantly circling the earth with the same side facing us at all times.  It circles us about once a month, or every 27 days to be exact.  Stay with me, I swear I'm getting to a point pretty soon.

Every once in a while, there is what we call an eclipse.  I tried to think of another word to say this, to try and steer away from Twilight connotations, but I couldn't find a good substitution.  Any how, an eclipse is when the moon passes in front of the sun, and then everyone goes out and looks at it with 3D goggles or something that looks similar to that.

So here's my point.  I feel like we have all experienced eclipses in our lives.  I don't mean that an actual solar eclipse has happened in each of our lifetimes, even though I'm pretty sure that it has.  I'm talking about the point in our lives when we're frustrated, when we're worried, when we are down, and it seems like we can focus on nothing but the pain. 

Hope, Jesus, and life are blotted out from our views, and all that we can see is despair, and we are paralyzed from action, wondering why Jesus is gone, and wondering why He would leave us.

"Where are you God?"  we ask.  "Why can't you be with us even in our hardships?  Why have you departed us?"

In our own minds, God becomes small, and our obstacles seem daunting and insurmountable.  The Bible says to fix our eyes upon Jesus, but we are convinced that Jesus is no where to be found, that He was quick to desert us. 

But God does not abandon His children, and He certainly is not unable and helpless to reach out and pull us out of our misery.

Listen:  The sun is 400 times bigger than the moon, yet sometimes, the moon completely covers the sun from our perspective.  The moon is pressing, close, and demanding our attention, and we as humans cannot get past the moon and see the sun.  Same goes with our lives.  Our issues, our shortcomings, our obstacles get so close to us and stress us out so much, we feel like we have no hope.  I suddenly find that I can't focus on Jesus, because I'm worried about what people think about me, or the school project that's due soon, or wondering if I'm ever going to actually hold a girls hand, and if my hands will stop being so sweaty by that stage in my life.  But you really didn't need to know that, I suppose.

But the thing is, God is so much greater than anything that we're struggling with, or going through right now.  It's funny to me when people talk about the "fight" that satan and God are going to have someday.  To be honest, it's not going to be a fight.  It's the infinite against the finite, the perfect against the blemished, and statistically speaking, there is absolutely no chance or odds that satan will win.  Absolutely none.

You see, Jesus is there.  I know sometimes you can't see Him.  He's there.  Sometimes you can't feel Him.  He's there.  I know that so many times, we have a storm rocking our boat, and death seems certain, but Jesus is the one who will calm the seas.  Jesus will not be overshadowed by something infinitely lesser than Him.  Like a speck of dirt on a telescope, troubles seem to be so large and looming, but there is a truth far greater than that.  The truth is that Jesus will shine through our storms.  Jesus will shine through our troubles.  Despite what you're feeling now, there is not only hope that Jesus will break through, but there is assurance that He will. 

So I don't know where you are in life.  Right now it could seem like darkness reigns or you could be living in light of the light of Christ.  But I just want to say this.  God is there, and he is omnipotent.  He is far stronger than darkness, and He is shining through the pain.  So live in light of the knowledge that Jesus reigns, and He will never depart us and that He is bigger than any eclipse in your life, or any struggle in your life, or any darkness that you're in and His greatness will be known throughout the universe, that He is Lord.

Man-hood

I'm watching football with my dad right now.  Meaning, I'm watching the game, and my dad is working hard on his computer.  So this is a mix of adrenaline/testosterone and male role models like my dad, but I've decided that I want to be a man. 

I don't mean that I want to be allowed to smoke pipes, or drink Miller Genuine Draft 64.  I'm not even talking about having a wife someday.  In fact, my future wife will not be mentioned after this.  It's that serious.  Just know that I'll be thinking about her.

But really, the topic of man-hood and being an adult has been controlling my mind a lot lately.  I feel like God really wants me to grow up and take responsibility.  Here's what I've decided that man-hood is to me:

Responsibility.  I really want to be responsible.  I want more weight on me, so that I HAVE to grow, and I HAVE to learn, and lead, and I feel like the best way to do that is to have responsibility put on me so I can learn to take that successfully. 

Work ethic.  I don't want to ever be known as lazy.  God's given me so many opportunities to succeed so that I can be the best I possibly can be in my future job, my future school, my future marriage (oops, I lied at the beginning.  Shout out to the wifey) and everything I do.  I don't want to ever take the easy way out of anything if it could possibly be detrimental to me.  So I'm working on that.

I'm really working on that.  Those are the big two that I'm majorly working hard on, because I want to be a man, and a good man.  I'm working on my work.  I'm learning how to put effort into things.  I don't close the door to my room anymore, because I want to work out my faith (Phillipians 2:12), and there is plenty of stuff that I could be doing behind closed doors that is not beneficial to me at all.  I have learned that things aren't going to change in my life until I actually change. 

It sounds super elementary, but so many people think that they'll change at some point, without doing anything about it.  We turn into lazy people who refuse to work because they want life to be easy and have all their troubles go away by wishful thinking.  We take grace for granted, and sometimes never get our act together, and spend our lives in the rut of wishful thinking.  The only way you can change, is if you change.  So change.  Put in work, so that you can become better.  Jesus came to save us from our sin, not to give us a free pass to do it. 

So that's what I've been thinking about.  We need to do work, son.

But grace still freaking rocks.

Jesus is for Losers

Last week, I went to City Church on a Saturday night with some friends.  This was because it was man-night, and my pastor was involved.  I had been to City Church once before, and all I remember of it is that they served root-beer floats.  Thus, I was pretty excited to go to the City Church again.

I was also kind of nervous for some reason.  Something deep down inside me was telling me that someone would judge me for what I was wearing, not speaking in tongues, or not wearing skinny-jeans like the lead pastor.  I wanted to be able to go in there without any one looking at me, because I felt like the minute that they looked at me, was the minute that they would start judging me.

I feel like this is how a lot of people think when they go to an unfamiliar church.  "They're going to judge me, they aren't going to like me, I've never sacrificed a goat before."  And in all honesty, except for the last one, maybe we as Christians have brought that on.  Maybe we are constantly trying to hide in a shell of self-righteous works, pretending that we're perfect even though we're screwed up inside.

I thought about how people who come to Overlake must feel, and how thinking that we're going to judge them at all is so off base of what we actually try to do. 

You see, the whole point of Jesus is not that He came for the good little boys and girls who never have problems, and never struggle with anything, and do everything that they're supposed to.  Jesus didn't die for perfect people, because that would be pointless. 

Jesus died for the broken, and the sinful.  He Himself says that He didn't come for the healthy, but for the sick.  He came for the people who can't do it by themselves.  He came for the sick.  Jesus came for the losers like me who can't seem to do what is right very often. 

So why then do people think of Christians as judgmental people who look down on other people because of all the bad stuff that they do?  If anything, Christians should be the most humble people on the face of the earth, because the description of a Christian is someone who knows they aren't good enough, and therefore let Jesus save them.

And yet we still get a reputation as being the good boys and girls of society who never have issues and look down on the kids that do.  That is completely and utterly wrong, and not what we're supposed to be doing. 

So for all the people who are reading this and think that Christians are judgmental, I say sorry on behalf of all of them, including myself.  I'm sorry that we've been a poor representation of truth.  I'm sorry that we've looked down on you even though we're just as bad off as you.  I'm sorry.

And to all the Christians reading this, I say let's step up our game a little bit.  It's our job to represent Jesus, the one who ate dinner with the tax collectors and prostitutes and the fallen and the sinners.  Let's show people who see us what our Lord is really like, rather than a twisted version of what He came to do.  Jesus died for the losers, so let's not be prideful, judgy, or arrogant.  Deal?   

My future wife!

Right now I'm listening to Marvin Gaye.  Thus, this blog post is going to be about my future wife.  Duh.

I think a lot about my future wife, probably due to never having had a girfriend.  I'm actually kind of stoked. 

Here's what I've decided about her:
1. She is going to love Jesus more than she loves me.
2. She's still going to love me a ton though.
3.  She's going to be beautiful, and when I say beautiful, I mean "If she's walking around in a garbage bag with holes cut in it for legs and arms, she's gonna be a stunner.''
4.  She's going to actually laugh at my jokes.  Boy, one-in-a-million, huh?
5. She'll be hilarious. 
6.  She has to balance out my social awkwardness, so that our overall average will be at least 7.5 on the Acone scale of awkwardness.  This means that she'll have to have at least 14 Acone points.
7.  She's going to be super cute. 
8.  Gorgeous.
9.  She has to be appreciative of 80s R&B Soul.  I won't know how to woo her otherwise.
10.  She'll watch sports with me, and we'll snuggle. 

But having said all that, I need to work on stuff myself, because I'm not ready at all for anything like marriage.  You can call me "15", but I just call myself "AHHH, I still don't have a job."  Here's the list of stuff that I want to be for my wife.

1.  I want to be a leader that she can trust to lead her in the right way. 
2.  I want to be able to bench press her body weight.  Is that too much to ask?
3.  I want to be a provider for her.  So that we can, like, eat.
4.  I want to be able to be a bit better of a hugger for her.  Ah well, we'll practice that in the context of marriage.
5.  I want to be totally Christ centered.  As in, "too busy being centered around Jesus to write a long blog post about her."
6.  I want to be able to know which colors match with what.  Because that could be important, I feel like.
7.  I want to be able to ask to see a wine-list without the waiter laughing at me.
8.  I want to rely on Christ everyday, so that the relationship isn't about us, but it's about Jesus.
9.  I want to know the Bible.  Really well.
10.  I want to resemble Bruce Wayne at least a little bit.

So there you go, that's what you get when listening to Marvin Gaye.  Until I get married, I'm going to become what I want to be so I'm ready.  And also, I'm going to be so pure, it'll be awesome.  Super hot abstinence.

The story of Danny and Zsa-Zsa

Once upon a time, in a far away land, lived a family made up of a little boy named Danny, and a little girl named Zsa-Zsa.  Yes, Zsa-Zsa.  They were in a household in which their dad loved them very much, and they were always joyful and happy, playing basketball like life was perfect.

One day, they were watching Rocky, and Danny and Zsa-Zsa realized that they too wanted to become boxers so that one day they could be even stronger than their dad.  They wanted to be the best boxers in the world, so obviously they moved to Philadelphia, where Rocky trained. 

Once there, they quickly realized that not all of Philadelphia was a meat processing plant in which they could train, and they became quite disappointed.  Trying to mask their sadness, Danny and Zsa-Zsa decided that their next best option was to be WWE fighters instead of what was shown in Rocky and Million Dollar Baby. 

They got into a rhythm of loving WWE, and they soon forgot all about basketball at home, or their boxing dreams, and they started enjoying "fighting" in the WWE.  They were making money, on pay-per-view, and their lives seemed just great.

But soon even their fighting days were gone, and they found themselves homeless, entertaining themselves by making toy boats out of thrown away newspapers and floating them down the torrent of water that was flowing down the gutters.  Yeah, life had gone downhill.

But you see, their dad had never actually forgotten about their basketball dreams, or their boxing dreams, and remembered how much passion they had for those things, and how much he knew they enjoyed it.  Mostly though, their dad just missed them.  He was longing for the days where they would watch a movie together, or wrestle them until they were too tired to get up, lying on the floor giggling. 

Often times, he would try to call them, or to hook them up with a facebook message.  But they never responded.  You see, they were quite content with their boat making, and they were getting good at it.

Finally, though, he sent Michael Jordan to convince the kids that the dad wanted them back, and to come back into the household and hang out with Jordan and the dad.

"No," they replied, "we're actually getting really good at making these little boats.  See?  Look at that one.  Look at the sails and how fast it goes down the street."

The Air himself tried to convince them, but it wouldn't work.  They could no longer imagine a land besides the paper boats, and were convinced that this "dad" that they heard of was just like a Nigerian prince who often emailed them looking for their bank account numbers.

Michael kept persisting however.  One day he told them straight out, that there was more to life than paper boats, and that they could have a better life.  Becoming defensive, they  shook their heads in fury and screamed "Don't take us away from this life!  You're a liar, and we don't want anything to do with you!"

And they stabbed poor Michael with the only weapon they could find, their scissors.  And Michael Jordan died that day.

 And three days later, Danny and Zsa-Zsa saw MJ playing basketball on a playground.  "MJ," they said, "What the heck just happened.  Why are you still alive?"

Michael was still alive because, let's be honest, we all know what's going on in this story already, of God.  And because I couldn't think of a relevant thing that would be equated to someone dying and then raising to life.  Because that doesn't really ever happen.  

Michael explained to Danny and Zsa-Zsa that it was true.  They had a dad, he existed, and he actually really liked them.  He also explained that his Rolls-Royce Phantom was the only way to get out of the hood and to his dad.  They jumped into the Rolls and headed towards their dads house. 

There, they played a game of 2 on 2, which, of course, the dad and Michael Jordan won.  But it was still a party.  And the kids promised to never ever leave their father again.  And everyone was very happy.  And, if you haven't noticed, that was more than a story of Michael Jordan's only successful comeback in his life.

Nerd Alert.

This past weekend, I drove to Washington State University to visit my sister, who goes to WSU and majors in something about broadcasting and Spanish.  It was pretty much a party all weekend, and on Sunday we pulled ourselves off of the couches in the basement to go to their church, called "Real Life."

Once there, I quickly realized that I was in the wrong spot.  This is what my brain immediately jumped to as an uncool church.  The nerd alert in my brain was blasting through my brain as I entered into a time of worship.

I couldn't stop thinking about how the woman keyboardist looked like Tina Fey.  The male keyboardist looked like Phil Collins.  Gabe from "The Office" was playing guitar, and the main singer kept throwing up hand gestures that I was convinced were Christian gang symbols that people who were holier than me knew.

I'm not used to this atmosphere.  My church has pool tables, people who dress in basketball shorts, and a worship pastor with mountain man facial hair.  We listen to Christian rap, and this church probably liked Michael W. Smith.  Yes, I was in a different style of church, and I was freaking out.

Then something in me began to stir.  The Jim Gaffigan look-a-like came out for announcements, and I laughed at his jokes.  Surely I was already becoming one of them, and might walk out of the church saying "thee", "thy", and calling people "bless-ed." 

But I kept being stirred.  A back-up pastor came up and began to speak about prayer, and it was awesome.  I found myself learning, and applying what he was saying to my life.  And I realized that the coolness of a church is based off of Christ, not cultural relevance. 

I began to process the amount of time that I think about what people think, rather than what I know about God, and what He thinks of me. 

I realized that people think that I look like a main character from "American Pie", and that that's a lot worse than looking like the guy who wrote the Tarzan soundtrack.

So as I go into life, I need to focus on Jesus, rather than myself.  I need to look to Him, so I know what I should be like.  I need to stop judging people.  And I need to realize what God has done for me, and what He will continue to do in this world. 

High treason

Today I marched in a parade, I did yard work, and I just ate two cinnamon rolls.  The first two things gave me plenty of time to think, and the last one just gave me satisfaction and a feeling of grossness.  Here are my thoughts as of late:

The act of treason is a violation of allegiance to one's sovereign or to one's state.  It's betraying the trust of your superior whom you've said that you would follow.  


In Brazil, treason during war fare is the only crime punishable by death.  The only one.  Worse then killing people, worse then raping people, worse then stealing, worse than having a ginormous Ponzi scheme and taking everyone's money.  


So all this time I've been thinking of this, I'm thinking that if in Brazil, you commit treason during war fare once, you're done.  No second chances, no opportunities for redemption.  Death.


And frankly, that might be how it should be.  When some one pledges their life to some one, and then turns around and back fires, their pledge is their life, and maybe they shouldn't have even that.  

The main point I'm trying to make is not about treason in Brazil.  I'm not a social commenter telling you what to think.  I just think this is incredibly important.  Because, as you may know, we are all held guilty of high treason, the kind of treason that directly affects the King. 


And we should be dead.


After we first decided to run away from God, we should've died.  When we say that we follow Christ, and we don't, we should die.  Our whole existence seems like a treason indictment should be coming our way soon, leading us to death.


But our King is better than that.  Our King has unlimited grace, constant waves of mercy, and a bottomless (Red Robin influence) love for us.  We commit treason every day, and He gives us a chance to serve again.  We are the cause of His Son's death, but His Son's death was also caused by His Son's love.  


So as you go out today, keep in mind one thing: You are insufficient, but God gives you grace, God gives you power, and God won't leave you behind.  Treason during warfare is punishable by death in Brazil.  We aren't in Brazil, but we're certainly in warfare.  So let's let God's grace wash upon us, so that we could be the best warriors for Him that we can be.

Home schooling

If you guys didn't know, I go to Sammamish High School.  If you didn't know, I have an English class there that gives me homework.  Also, if you didn't know, I used to be home schooled.  This was a writing project that I did, but I wanted to write more about it, because he only gave me one page to do it.  So here goes.

Up until my 9th grade when I joined Sammamish High School, I was home schooled.  I mostly liked it, because it was a chill environment and it was fairly easy.  Up until about 4th grade, though, I was oblivious to the fact that a couple socially awkward, nerdly home schoolers had spread myths  about the dangers of homeschooling.  It was then I recognized the confused, disgusted look on people's faces when I would tell them that I was, in fact, educated at home.

I would tell them about it, and then immediately try to cover up my sin with a "but it's pretty much the same as public school, just without other people, and my mom doesn't teach me, I have teachers, but if I need help I ask my mom, like public schoolers, and I even play sports and I have a life."

It was too late though.  Weird Al's "Amish Paradise" had already spread to their brain, and they suddenly realized the cause of my stupidity, awkwardness, and acne.  They then had three choices of how to act when around me: to be very liberal, conservative, or normal.

Occasionally, when I showed people my scarlet letter of regular society, they would drop a swear word, or tell me a joke about sex, or tell something involving technology, and  step back to watch the inevitable horror that would soon permeate my facial expression.  Surely I would be shocked that there were bad words in the world, or sex, or cell phones. 

At other times, they would walk on egg shells around me, carefully choosing their words and conversation topics, and never thumbing their PSPs in their pocket or asking me to come play XBOX with them, because I would surely be in question about what an XBOX was, and whether father Jebediah would approve of it.  The conversations somehow would drift towards plowing fields or churning butter, none of which I knew anything about, and they regarded me as incompetent, for I didn't even know how to do what I was born to do.  Attempts at avoiding my harsh judgment were made, so that we could still play basketball together.

Having now gotten past the pain of telling people that I am a nerd destined to be an outcast, whenever I meet a homeschooler, I try to lead the conversations to their life on an Amish farm.  As I notice their disconcerted facial expressions and squirming, I admit to them that I too was once a home schooler.

And then I pull out my cell phone.

Grace.

"You called and You shouted, broke through my deafness, now I'm breathing in, and breathing out, I'm alive again.  You shattered my darkness, washed away my blindness, now I'm breathing in, and breathing out, I'm alive again." - Matt Maher, Alive Again.

Dangle.  We were dead, hard-core.  We had no chance.  We were hopeless, and yet our darkness was shattered, our eyes were cleared, and life was given.  This is awesome.  

And we pass by it.  Everyday, we forget about it.  Just like our previous (or present) life (not talking reincarnation here, folks, more like regeneration), we blindly run to death.  In the words of John Donne, in his Holy Sonnet #1:

"I run to death, and death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday;

I dare not move my dim eyes any way,

Despair behind, and death before doth cast

Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste

By sin in it, which it t'wards hell doth weigh;

Only thou art above, and when towards thee

By thy leave I can look, I rise again;

But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,

That not one hour my self I can sustain." 

 

That's just it.  We may not chose death, but we're sure running to it.   "And when towards thee..I can look, I rise again."  Even though my blogs may sound like a broken record, this is it!  By Christ's power, people rise.  The lame are healed, the blind can see, and the dead rise from death. 

 

The dead rise from death!  We can't be good enough to work our way into heaven.  We can't earn God's love.  We will never be able to impress God.  We've grown accustomed to the thought that "God loves good little boys and girls."  And "if you are polite and don't kill people or do porn or lie, then God will love you." 

 

Something is wrong with that.   As Brennan Manning says in The Ragamuffin Gospel:

"Our huffing and puffing to impress God, our scrambling for brownie points, our thrashing about trying to fix ourselves while hiding our pettiness and wallowing in guilt are nauseating to God and are a flat denial of the gospel of grace."

When you read the Gospels, you will notice that Jesus never hates on the poor in Spirit, or the prostitutes, or the broken, but He comes and completely blows down the self-righteous doors of the hypocrites and the Pharisees.  

 

"For it is by grace that you have been saved, not by works, so that no man can boast."

 

"As Jesus was walking on from there he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax office, and he said to him, 'Follow me.'  And he got up and followed him.  Now while he was at table in the house it happened that a number of tax collectors ad sinners came to sit at the table with Jesus and his disciples.  When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, ' why does your master eat with tax collectors and sinners?'  When he heard this he replied, 'It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick.  Go and learn the meaning of the words: Mercy is what pleases me, not sacrifice.  And indeed I cam to call not the upright, but sinners.'

Dangle.  In finishing the sonnet of John Donne that I started before, here's the last couplet:

 

"Thy Grace may wing me to prevent his (satan's) art,

And thou like Adamant draw mine iron heart." 

 

God's not giving up on the chase.  So as you go along your way to school or to jobs or whatever it is that you do, remember this:  Grace and mercy are the only ways to draw near to God, trying to do works after works isn't going to do anything.  God's drawing your heart.  Now go out and be drawn.

 

Hanging Up the Sneakers

Basketball has always been a huge part of my life, ever since my dad first took me out to the backyard for me to struggle to throw the ball all the way up to the rim.  Yes, without basketball, my middle school interactions with people other than my family would be minimal.  As sad and homeschooled that sounds, it's true.

It started when I was super little and my dad instilled a firm belief in me that basketball was the greatest sport in the world and all other sports were sadly inferior.  He then got me hooked on a lifestyle of me shooting hoops on the patio in the back yard whenever I got a little bit of spare time and the pavement was dry.

I turned into a basketball fanatic, constantly challenging people who came over to a game of 1-on-1 or H-O-R-S-E, and running my mouth about how I was about to lay a smack down on them.  Basketball was my identity, and I became a good shooter, with my dad constantly urging me to develop a jump-shot so that I wouldn't be able to be blocked by the long, lanky players who always seemed to get into the way.

I got on a team in the boys and girls club of Bellevue.  My 5th grade team was phenomenal, winning every game with the exception of the loss to The Rockets in the championship by 1 point.  Everyone was so happy that we did so well, that a loss did nothing to diminish the joy and pride of the after party pizza session.  With ten little fifth graders who were convinced that they were going to play on the same NBA team together, nothing was impossible. 

My hoop dreams soon turned to my first select basketball team.  Making this team and getting consistent playing time was amazing.  I played as well as I could, and was constantly clowning with the coach, Coach Bones. 

By this time, my dad had gotten me signed up for an Emerald City Basketball League in the summer.  If you don't know, Emerald City is definitely "the hood" for those kids who grew up in the suburbs.  Now we were playing basketball, and getting street cred.  We knew we were legit when we played basketball on Saturdays, and then went to Dick's burgers, win or loss, to give out the player of the game awards and have fun together.

 Last season, my team was awful, losing every single game in every single tournament and regular season match up except against our hated rivals, Interlake, in which we won both games.  I showed flashes of being ok at basketball, with a 25 point game, and a 19 point game, but the season was overall mediocre, and I was mainly used for my defense. 

Our coach was, for lack of a better term, a tyrant, continually setting us on the sideline to do a set of 17s with us confused about what we did to earn this horrible fate.  Basketball practice became something that I dreaded everyday, and to do basketball, I had to stay at my school for a 12 hour work day, leaving me to go home tired and needing to do homework.  It was about then that I realized that I wasn't such a fan of basketball, even in the games when I did well.

So this is all to say, my passions for basketball have faded.  My passion for music has strengthened.  Even though basketball has given me all these memories and stories, I've decided that it's not worth the time and energy.  So here goes a new concept for me: Specialization.  It's time for me to become good at a few things rather than a jack of all trades. 

And in case you just read all of this and you're wondering: "What the heck is the point of this note when you could've just said 'I'm quitting basketball?'"  You're right, there was no point to this note.  Except to specialize and increase my skill at writing.  Cuz I'm still a baller.

Christ in me

School starts tomorrow.

As I start weeping on the keyboard, I want to share what I've been learning lately.

Fact: I constantly try to please people.  Fact: I've been starting to realize that.  False: This is a good thing that I should nurture and strive to keep.

If you didn't notice that the last comment was indeed false, go ahead and re-read it.  If I'm in a group of people, I'm always trying to be the funny, smart, cool one whom everybody likes.  My time with people sometimes seems like it's Barnum, Bailey, and Ben.  I do everything in my power to be liked.  That's my goal.  That's not necessarily what my goal should be.  

When I look at the people who I admire, one of my role models is Bob Lee.  I like Bob.  He's a cool guy.  He doesn't strive for people's compliments, he doesn't strive for people's attention.  What Bob does that makes him special is follow God and His plan, and put God's goals before his own goals.  I want to be like that.  I don't want to be working towards people's liking, but I want to be working to be God's son, whose constantly working to serve Him.

Please note that this isn't a "screw it, no one likes me, so I'm just not going to try" kind of note, but this is a "there's a change in me, and I'm just going for Jesus, not your approval."

So what this means for the school year is this:  My goal isn't to "just be myself".  My goal isn't to be the perfect me that can be.  I can't be perfect.  I can strive for perfection, but I'm never going to be perfect.  My goal is to best let Christ in me work in me rather than try to win people's approval by what I can do.  I'm going to school tomorrow, and I know for a fact that Christ in me is going to rock it.

I make war.

In the movie, Braveheart, William Wallace is a man who is strongly convicted that freedom is a necessity for the people of Scotland.  Yeah, that's right, of course I'm talking about Braveheart!  Scotland is under the rule of Edward of Longshanks, and he's trying to weed out all of the Scottish people.  Then the story continues and William Wallace leads a giant rebellion and soon helps Scotland gain liberty and freedom.

        Our lives are a lot like William's.  In our lives, satan is trying to weed out Christ-followers.  He's trying to turn people away from Truth, away from Jesus.  Satan cannot win in a war against God, so he makes war against the people who were made in God's image.  He is constantly trying to make us follow him and the world and our flesh, rather than the one being who is worthy of being followed.

        Our job is Christians is not to stand passively and watch this happen.  Our job as Christians is not to let ourselves be deceived.  Our job is not to say that we love Christ and yet watch as people are lied to, corrupted, and recruited to work for satan.  Yet so often we stand on the sideline and watch this war work itself out. 

      There are no innocent bystanders.  Jesus says that "if you aren't for me, you're against me".  We need to be active participants in the fight against sin.   Then why does it seem like we are constantly falling for decoys?  We often don't put up a fight in temptation, we don't put up a fight for other people, we don't put up a fight for anything.  Romans 8:13 says that " if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live".

We are in a fight for our lives.  As John Piper says, "Be killing sin, or sin will be killing you."  Now is not the time to be passive.  Now is not the time to be apathetic.  A war for our lives is being fought.  Freedom is near.  Christ gave us a chance, now let's fight for Him.

Don't let satan get a foot hold in your anger, in your lust, in your lying, in your cheating, in your jealousy.  Don't give satan a chance at destroying your life.  When we accept Christ as our Lord and Savior, we accept the notion that we're in a war, and that we need to fight.  So why then do we live with our sin, and accept it as it is?  Make war with it!

My anger?  Is being fought every time I come across it.  My lust?  Is being fought, for "me and my mouse will serve the Lord".  My flesh?  Dies daily because of Jesus' ultimate sacrifice. 

My challenge to you is to make war with your sin using the Sword of the Spirit which is the Word of the Lord.  Be thinking of God.  Focus yourself on God.  Be delighted in God and His Word.  God has given us armor, and the Sword of the Spirit is the only offensive weapon.  So fight with it.

I feel like Thriving

    The Lil Wayne song "Feel like dying" has been stuck in my head  lately.  The song  chorus says "Only once the drugs are done, do I feel like dying, I feel like dying."  This is a super depressing song, and even though I've never done drugs, I feel a strong connection to it.

    The Bible has many instances where a sin life is known as death, or spiritual death (Romans 6:11, Romans 8:10, Colossians 2:13), and following Christ is true life (Matthew 7:14, Matthew 18:8, John 6:47).  Jesus offers us life to the full, and says that one who follows Him has life. 

    Yet so many times do I choose death over life.  So many times I'm prideful.  So many times do I lust.  So many times do I worship myself over God.  So many times I feel like I've failed completely. 

    Yet so many times I choose Jesus.  I choose to rejoice in the fact that I have a choice, that Jesus died, and rose again, and that I can have a relationship with Him.  I'm like a modern day Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, constantly changing and twisting into a seemingly different person.

    There have been times where I've been purely wallowing in death with seemingly no growth.  I worshipped myself, I worshipped the female body, I worshipped anything except Jesus.  And still, I was never satisfied.  I was never happy.  I was never content.    I was in a constant state of a semi-depression, wishing I could find contentment. 

    Fortunately, it doesn't end there.  Jesus offered me life and I took it, in which I am eternally thankful for the grace and mercy.  Now I have life in Jesus, I have life in knowing that there is something that is more worthy of worship than me.  And yet so often I have placed my joy in something that is not God.  Our mantra when we don't live for Christ often looks like this:

    "Only once the drugs are done, do I feel like dying, I feel like dying.  Only once the money is gone, do I feel like dying, I feel like dying. Only once the porn is done, do I feel like dying, I feel like dying.  Only once the popularity is gone, do I feel like dying, I feel like dying."

    Once we stake our happiness on something that is finite, our happiness will end.  Once we place importance on something that will die, our joy will die.  When we put something of less importance than Jesus (everything) in more of a priority than Jesus, surely we will realize the depravity of our wading in death.
 
    But there is more.  Jesus offers us life, and life to the full (John 6:27, John 6:63).  When we choose to accept it, Jesus replaces our old song with one that goes like this:

    "Even when the drugs are done, there is still life, there is still life.  Even when the money is gone, there is always grace, there is always grace.  Even when the porn is gone, Jesus offers mercy, Jesus offers mercy.  Even when the popularity is gone, Jesus is alive, Jesus is alive."

      We no longer have to suffer in the hopelessness of death.  We don't have to bet that something finite will give us joy.  We can stake our happiness on something everlasting.  When Jesus died, He gave us the opportunity to be cleansed us of our sin.  When He rose, He was metaphorically saying that we no longer have to be dead in our sins.  Jesus offers freedom.  Jesus offers hope.    Jesus offers life, and my prayer is that I will constantly accept it.