Hope you have a good weekend!Friday, August 26, 2005
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
The Love of God
On Sunday night something hit me that had never hit me before: how much God loves me.
I mean, I've been told that my whole life. I've sang songs about it, read verses about it, and listened to sermons about it. That truth is as basic to the Christian faith as Jesus.
But on Sunday it really hit me. God loves me. A ton. And no matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter what, God loves me.
His is a love that is pure. It is a love without fail. It is truly unconditional. Get it? Unconditional. No matter what I do He loves me. His love for me isn't dependent on anything. He loves me regardless. He loves me unconditionally.
Think of a friend that you treat the same way that you treat God. I bet it's hard to think of one. Why? Because anybody that you treat as poorly as you treat God isn't a friend anymore. They leave, fed up with your neglect, your rudeness and your failed promises.
And yet no matter how many times we fail God, He's still there. Loving us. Wanting to be with us.
Why?
Because He loves us.
God taught this to me on Sunday night. After a period of selfishness, evidenced in my recent posts, I was reminded by a friend that it's not about me, it's about God. And that I needn't worry what other people think, I need to focus on what God wants.
And when I turned back to God, there He was, waiting for me with open arms, ready to hug me and love me again.
There was no condemnation, no judging looks, no "I told you so" or waving of the finger. Instead, there was grace, mercy and two simple words: "Welcome home."
And that love goes farther. God loves us so much that he always has our best interests in mind. No matter what. He is always looking out for us. He loves us so much that sometimes He will allow us to be hurt in order to make us better.
I think love sometimes requires that: hurt. So many relationships that I see don't have that as a part of them, and I think that is because inherently in love we are selfish. We have our best interest in mind, and are unwilling to let that go and hurt someone else, even if by doing that we are serving their best interest. "I don't want to lose them. There's no way I could tell them that. That would hurt them, and I can't risk that. They might leave me."
But God doesn't do that. He loves us so much that He is willing to do whatever it takes for us to become a better person--even if it risks us rejecting Him in the process.
The love of God is bigger than anything I have ever imagined and will probably never be able to comprehend it or explore all that it offers in this life. But I'm so glad that it's real.
And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love really is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it. Then you will be filled with the fullness of life and power that comes from God. ~ Ephesians 3:18-19
Monday, August 22, 2005
Scary
According to the NEWSWEEK/Beliefnet Poll, eight in 10 Americans—including 68 percent of evangelicals—believe that more than one faith can be a path to salvation, which is most likely not what they were taught in Sunday school.
68% of Evangelicals? Wow. What has happened?
Sunday, August 21, 2005
With Love
Now glory be to God! By his mighty power at work within us, he is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope. May he be given glory in the church and in Christ Jesus forever and ever through endless ages. Amen. ~ Ephesians 3:20-21
Father, help me to stop focusing on myself. Let me realize that it's not about me, and it's all about You.
Thank You for Your love, thank You for Your forgiveness, for Your mercy and Your grace and Your infinite wisdom. Thank You for Your patience and for not giving up on me, for still desiring to work in me, even though I fail You so many times.
I love You. Thank You for loving me.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Except
Father, I want to be Your Disciple.
I will do anything You ask of me.
(Except that. I won't do that.)
Father, I want to be Your messenger.
I will go anywhere You tell me.
(Except there. I won't go there.)
Lord, I want to be Your Pastor.
I will tell them anything Your word says.
(Except this. You can't expect me to tell them this.)
Lord, I want to be Your Evangelist.
I will share You with anyone You put in my way.
(Except him. You know I can't talk to him.)
God, I want to be Your Teacher.
I will teach them all to be Your disciples.
(Except me.)
I will do anything You ask of me.
(Except that. I won't do that.)
Father, I want to be Your messenger.
I will go anywhere You tell me.
(Except there. I won't go there.)
Lord, I want to be Your Pastor.
I will tell them anything Your word says.
(Except this. You can't expect me to tell them this.)
Lord, I want to be Your Evangelist.
I will share You with anyone You put in my way.
(Except him. You know I can't talk to him.)
God, I want to be Your Teacher.
I will teach them all to be Your disciples.
(Except me.)
Missed Opportunities
Last night I pulled out a prayer journal that I had near my bed and started reading through some of the old entries. This is not a journal that I write in very often. I got it in 2001, and I probably have 10 or 15 entries in it, total. But it is a journal that I have written in consistently--there are at least a few entries from every year for the past four.
What this journal provides, then, is a snapshot of me in my faith journey at some very distinct times in my life. As I read through the entries, I can't remember writing each one -- but I definitely remember the circumstances surrounding each one and the emotions that I was feeling as I called out for help to God in this journal.
As I read through it, I was struck by two things:
1. Not a single one of my old concerns are my concerns now. Not a one. There is not one thing I wrote down in that journal that I would even think of praying about today. Every single situation was solved, taken care of, and is no longer a worry. I even laughed and smiled at the things that caused me to be so uptight--even as recent as a year ago--and how God's hand has moved in every dilemma. What an awe-inspiring thought to see how God moves in our lives over time.
2. My walk in my faith is no further along now than it was 4 years ago. Although the external problems that have plagued me over the past four years are gone, the shortcomings I have when it comes to my faith, are still there. As I read over this journal, I can't tell you how many times I asked God to "use me," to "let me do your will no matter what," to "change me and shape me, and help me become more like you." And when I wrote in that journal again last night, I used those same cries and pleas for God to use me.
It struck me in reflecting on this that everything that God had control over and I didn't--all of the external situations in my life that have caused me so much worry over the years--God took care of and those problems disappeared. But the one thing that I had control over--my faith, and where I was going to go with it, and how I was going to serve God--is no better off now than it was when I first opened the pages of that journal. In other words, the one obstacle God has failed to remove in my life is the one that He can't. Me.
And yet I look over these years, and I see countless times when God has touched me, when He has reached down and impacted my life. I see times where He has both indirectly and directly called out to me. And I know that those times have changed me--but only for a while. For a week I'll be on cloud-9, ready to do anything and everything that He asks of me. But that next week I'm back on earth, resisting and fighting and falling back into temptation and back into sin.
In short, a lot of that journal was filled with missed opportunities.
Opportunities where God was calling me to do great things. Where if I had truly been willing to "deny myself," there is no limit to what He could have done with me. I have no doubt that if I had recklessly surrendered to God my freshman year of college--and stayed that way throughout--that God could have used me to lead a spiritual revival at USC, the likes of which no campus has seen. That's not boasting in my own abilities; that's marvelling at what God can do with anyone who is willing to follow his will.
Instead? I shrunk back and doubted and said "God, not me, there's no way I could do it" and continued on in my safe world.
In the end, I realized that I have never taken a significant step for my faith in all my life. I have always talked the big talk, I know how to get in a debate about God and hold my own, I can quote scripture and sing the songs, and I can pray and everything else. But I have never taken that leap of faith. I have never taken up my own cross and followed Christ. I've always been too scared to. At that moment when I start to feel myself really losing control to Him, I cour back and say "no. I can't do it." And I miss another opportunity.
And I'm afraid I might do that again.
Recently, I've begun to doubt my calling. Not doubt, per se, but question whether it's necessary for me to do it so soon. I mean, what's the difference if I go to seminary school next year or work for a few more? I'm making good money now, and to work for a few more, I could have a very secure nest egg that could support me for my years of seminary--and then some. I have the potential to make a ton of money in the next several years, and that is very tempting.
Also, what are people going to think about me if I decide to go to seminary school? That I'm giving up? That I couldn't cut it in the "real world" and had to come crawling back home? How will this effect my image of an overachiever? What will people say?
And I also have a feeling that if I decide to do this, I'm going it alone. I will be doing it without the approval of many people around me. My parents, for one, although ultimately supportive, will question why I really had to do it so quick--and be leaving a lot of money on the table. My friends will think I'm downright crazy, many of whom aren't Christians. And I don't blame them. Think of it from their perspective--I'm leaving a world of wealth behind to go and spend my life teaching about something they don't even believe in. To them, I'm sure, it's the equivalent of me saying "I'm quitting my job to go become one of Santa's elves." And what about my future family? Sure, I'm choosing to be a Pastor--but they're not. Is it fair to drag them into a lifestyle that I have chosen for myself? A lifestyle that for them will be no doubt exceedingly difficult? -- when it would be so easy for me to just continue on and be a successful businessman, affording them all of the luxuries they could imagine to their heart's content?
And so as this ultimate deadline draws nearer--where I leave this behind and start my study to become a Pastor--and as the reality is starting to set in as to what I'm going to be embarking on in less than a year--I'm doing what I've always done. I'm getting scared. I'm backing off. I'm in the couring position. And I'm close to saying, "No. I can't do it. I just can't."
There was an emptiness as I looked over that prayer journal last night. A profound sadness as I looked at all of those missed opportunities. In many ways I was mad at myself. Mad at myself for never taking that step, for never abandoning all and following God.
I don't want that to happen again. But I wouldn't be honest if I ended this post with a positive twist, a message that "everything will be alright, I'll make it through." I'm sure I will, but that's not how I feel right now. It's not that I'm doubting God. I don't doubt God. And it's not that I'm doubting His will for my life. I'm not doubting his will for my life. I have been more sure of that then anything else. I know where God wants me, and I have not doubted that since that day in August.
I guess, ultimately, the thing that I'm doubting is...myself.
"Me? Really? Are you sure?"
God, help me get over myself.
What this journal provides, then, is a snapshot of me in my faith journey at some very distinct times in my life. As I read through the entries, I can't remember writing each one -- but I definitely remember the circumstances surrounding each one and the emotions that I was feeling as I called out for help to God in this journal.
As I read through it, I was struck by two things:
1. Not a single one of my old concerns are my concerns now. Not a one. There is not one thing I wrote down in that journal that I would even think of praying about today. Every single situation was solved, taken care of, and is no longer a worry. I even laughed and smiled at the things that caused me to be so uptight--even as recent as a year ago--and how God's hand has moved in every dilemma. What an awe-inspiring thought to see how God moves in our lives over time.
2. My walk in my faith is no further along now than it was 4 years ago. Although the external problems that have plagued me over the past four years are gone, the shortcomings I have when it comes to my faith, are still there. As I read over this journal, I can't tell you how many times I asked God to "use me," to "let me do your will no matter what," to "change me and shape me, and help me become more like you." And when I wrote in that journal again last night, I used those same cries and pleas for God to use me.
It struck me in reflecting on this that everything that God had control over and I didn't--all of the external situations in my life that have caused me so much worry over the years--God took care of and those problems disappeared. But the one thing that I had control over--my faith, and where I was going to go with it, and how I was going to serve God--is no better off now than it was when I first opened the pages of that journal. In other words, the one obstacle God has failed to remove in my life is the one that He can't. Me.
And yet I look over these years, and I see countless times when God has touched me, when He has reached down and impacted my life. I see times where He has both indirectly and directly called out to me. And I know that those times have changed me--but only for a while. For a week I'll be on cloud-9, ready to do anything and everything that He asks of me. But that next week I'm back on earth, resisting and fighting and falling back into temptation and back into sin.
In short, a lot of that journal was filled with missed opportunities.
Opportunities where God was calling me to do great things. Where if I had truly been willing to "deny myself," there is no limit to what He could have done with me. I have no doubt that if I had recklessly surrendered to God my freshman year of college--and stayed that way throughout--that God could have used me to lead a spiritual revival at USC, the likes of which no campus has seen. That's not boasting in my own abilities; that's marvelling at what God can do with anyone who is willing to follow his will.
Instead? I shrunk back and doubted and said "God, not me, there's no way I could do it" and continued on in my safe world.
In the end, I realized that I have never taken a significant step for my faith in all my life. I have always talked the big talk, I know how to get in a debate about God and hold my own, I can quote scripture and sing the songs, and I can pray and everything else. But I have never taken that leap of faith. I have never taken up my own cross and followed Christ. I've always been too scared to. At that moment when I start to feel myself really losing control to Him, I cour back and say "no. I can't do it." And I miss another opportunity.
And I'm afraid I might do that again.
Recently, I've begun to doubt my calling. Not doubt, per se, but question whether it's necessary for me to do it so soon. I mean, what's the difference if I go to seminary school next year or work for a few more? I'm making good money now, and to work for a few more, I could have a very secure nest egg that could support me for my years of seminary--and then some. I have the potential to make a ton of money in the next several years, and that is very tempting.
Also, what are people going to think about me if I decide to go to seminary school? That I'm giving up? That I couldn't cut it in the "real world" and had to come crawling back home? How will this effect my image of an overachiever? What will people say?
And I also have a feeling that if I decide to do this, I'm going it alone. I will be doing it without the approval of many people around me. My parents, for one, although ultimately supportive, will question why I really had to do it so quick--and be leaving a lot of money on the table. My friends will think I'm downright crazy, many of whom aren't Christians. And I don't blame them. Think of it from their perspective--I'm leaving a world of wealth behind to go and spend my life teaching about something they don't even believe in. To them, I'm sure, it's the equivalent of me saying "I'm quitting my job to go become one of Santa's elves." And what about my future family? Sure, I'm choosing to be a Pastor--but they're not. Is it fair to drag them into a lifestyle that I have chosen for myself? A lifestyle that for them will be no doubt exceedingly difficult? -- when it would be so easy for me to just continue on and be a successful businessman, affording them all of the luxuries they could imagine to their heart's content?
And so as this ultimate deadline draws nearer--where I leave this behind and start my study to become a Pastor--and as the reality is starting to set in as to what I'm going to be embarking on in less than a year--I'm doing what I've always done. I'm getting scared. I'm backing off. I'm in the couring position. And I'm close to saying, "No. I can't do it. I just can't."
There was an emptiness as I looked over that prayer journal last night. A profound sadness as I looked at all of those missed opportunities. In many ways I was mad at myself. Mad at myself for never taking that step, for never abandoning all and following God.
I don't want that to happen again. But I wouldn't be honest if I ended this post with a positive twist, a message that "everything will be alright, I'll make it through." I'm sure I will, but that's not how I feel right now. It's not that I'm doubting God. I don't doubt God. And it's not that I'm doubting His will for my life. I'm not doubting his will for my life. I have been more sure of that then anything else. I know where God wants me, and I have not doubted that since that day in August.
I guess, ultimately, the thing that I'm doubting is...myself.
"Me? Really? Are you sure?"
God, help me get over myself.
Monday, August 08, 2005
A Gentle Reminder
Recently God has been giving me a lot of those moments -- I call them "Gentle Reminders" -- that He's around. Those moments when you're reminded, once again, that He is there, and that He loves you and that He cares for you.
They've come at some pretty interesting times in some pretty interesting places...at 4:00am as I'm walking into my hotel room in New York...at 9:00 p.m. as I'm packing up for the day...at 8:00 am when I'm getting ready...
They're not much. There's no sound of trumpets or calls of angels, no dramatic "come to Jesus" moments.
But they're unmistakeable and oh, so real.
It's a nudge. A whisper. A skipped heartbeat. A twinkle of light. A gentle push from behind. A soft breeze or a sweet aroma.
It's these things that cause our hearts to dance with joy. It is as if for a moment--only a brief moment--God unviels for us what He has prepared for us. As if this world disappears and Heaven gets to shine through--if only for a second.
It's in these moments that I'm reminded of what I'm living for, and where I'm headed.
I can't wait to get there.
Saturday, August 06, 2005
Baidu
Here's a picture of me in the LA Times. Pretty cool, huh?
(No religious message. I just wanted to share that I was in the paper. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll use it in some sermon sometime, though.)
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