Category Archives: Following Jesus

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The Meaning of Life

When they had eaten, Jesus said to Simon Peter, Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these [others do–with reasoning, intentional, spiritual devotion, as one loves the Father]? He said to Him, Yes, Lord, You know that I love You [that I have deep, instinctive, personal affection for You, as for a close friend]. He said to him, Feed My lambs.

Again He said to him the second time, Simon, son of John, do you love Me [with reasoning, intentional, spiritual devotion, as one loves the Father]? He said to Him, Yes, Lord, You know that I love You [that I have a deep, instinctive, personal affection for You, as for a close friend]. He said to him, Shepherd (tend) My sheep.

He said to him the third time, Simon, son of John, do you love Me [with a deep, instinctive, personal affection for Me, as for a close friend]? Peter was grieved (was saddened and hurt) that He should ask him the third time, Do you love Me? And he said to Him, Lord, You know everything; You know that I love You [that I have a deep, instinctive, personal affection for You, as for a close friend]. Jesus said to him, Feed My sheep.

I assure you, most solemnly I tell you, when you were young you girded yourself [put on your own belt or girdle] and you walked about wherever you pleased to go. But when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will put a girdle around you and carry you where you do not wish to go.

He said this to indicate by what kind of death Peter would glorify God. And after this, He said to him, Follow Me!

……Jesus said to him, If I want him to stay (survive, live) until I come, what is that to you? [What concern is it of yours?] You follow Me! — John 21:15-22 (Amplified Bible)

We use one word to describe so many emotions. How inadequate the English language is!

Throughout my many years in church I’ve heard a lot of sermons on this passage, and much speculation on why Jesus asked Peter this question 3 times. However, it wasn’t until two years ago that someone finally showed me the subtle but distinct difference in the meaning of Jesus’ love-word and Peter’s love-word (and then this week I found out that Adria learned this in her Greek Bible class at Taylor U. That just stinks…. why isn’t anyone really TALKING about this?)

I was in a Beth Moore Bible study while in Cyprus. We were going through her study called Breaking Free. Beth came to this passage and pointed out the two different, distinct words used and I was thunderstruck. I’ve been listening to internet broadcasts of this series the past couple of weeks and last Monday’s lesson retraced my steps through this passage again.

Jesus uses a word, agapao, which means a high esteem, respect, reverent kind of love. It the same word Jesus uses in Mark 12:30-31. This word also indicates a direction of the will. The idea here is that its a choice we make; being determined to so.

Peter, on the other hand, keeps using the word, phileo, which is a brotherly kind of love.

Finally, on his last "do you love me?" Jesus switches to Peter’s word, saying, "Okay, Peter, do you phileo me?" And Peter says, "you know I do…."

The point of this banter wasn’t, as some preachers have said, to give Peter a chance to cancel his three denials of Jesus. The point was for Peter, and us, to catch the truth that phileo love just isn’t enough to keep us followers of Jesus from crashing and burning out as we serve others.

Yes Jesus said, "feed my sheep". But he goes on to say, "follow me.’ In other words, "make a conscious choice to agapao Me. Esteem Me, respect Me, trust Me with everything you’ve got. Because that’s the only way you’re gonna be able to handle all that is to come without burning out and giving up on Me."

It’s amazing to me how badly I get it wrong often times. Even now that I get the meaning of the love-words, and the whole exchange, I still often revert back to old teaching and erroneous thought patterns, believing that it’s all about me, all on me to love and thus get myself through things through sheer determination of will.

My experience with God, however, is so vastly different. And proves beyond doubt, when I think about it, just how big a liar the enemy is and how often I fall prey to those lies.

I think the thing that impacted me most though, was a realization that this is what life is all about. Yes, I’m called to serve and give my life away for others. But…. if I don’t agapao Jesus; if I don’t highly esteem Him, revere Him and make a determined choice to love Him, to want what’s in His best interest; if I just love Him like a brother, if He’s just my pal and a dear close, close friend, or if He’s just a family member, just the Father I obey because I’m too afraid not to; if I do not highly regard and prize Him as a grand treasure, then I will not survive this thing we call "Christianity". I may continue to serve, and lead, and even be held up as an example. But my heart and spirit will languish in the fires of religious burn-out.

I’m getting through this hell on earth called mourning and grief and loss each day because I so love Jesus. I soooo love Him! He cradles me in His arms, dances with me, cries with me, yells with me, fights with me, walks with me, picks me up when I fall, holds me firm when I can’t stand, carries me when I can’t get up, shelters me in His robe when the rain lashes us, covers me as the lightning flashs and thunder roars, helps me to cut loose and laugh at how drenched we are when the storm passes, sings me to sleep, wakes me with sunrises, watches the fireflies dance with me…..

There isn’t anything He doesn’t do with me, or for me. He doesn’t have to say anything and I know by His presence, His touch, His creation that He loves me. He’s proven He will not leave me, yet never tires of gently saying He won’t when I get scared and beg Him not to go. He doesn’t get offended when I get angry and doesn’t just give in to my demands. He fights with me, proving His love through His willingness and strength to stand toe-to-toe with me, not withdrawing and not bullying, but arguing His case and standing firm and resolute in Himself.

I DO highly esteem Him. I DO hold Him in the highest regard. I DO make a choice to love Him — I’ve had many opportunities to walk away, to give up on this thing He calls Abundant Life, which hasn’t much felt abundant or Life-like these last few years. But I can’t leave Him. My heart would break and my life would be nothing. HE is the thing that breathes Life into me. Without Him, there’s just no point.

And this is what I was referring to earlier. The enemy so often lies to me that I must be the one to get myself through things, I must bear the burden of agapao love alone, that what this whole exchange between Jesus and Peter is really Jesus telling Peter, "buck up, bud. You gotta carry this cross thing all the way. If you love me, work hard and follow hard, ’cause I ain’t gonna do anything for ya. It’s all on you."

What a crock!

Now…. now I’m learning that this agapao; this thing we call Love — True Love — this is my purpose. This is the reason I was created, the thing I was made to do! That, in doing this, in agapao-ing God, I live out my purpose. Can you believe that?? How simple! And I keep trying to make this purpose thing so complicated…. Here I thought, and always believed, that I was created to do things high and lofty. But it turns out, it seems, that I was just made to Love. Just to be Loved and to Love in return. Love the way God loves. To agapao. — I’ve spent the last two years seeking my purpose, and as it turns out, perhaps I have been fulfilling my purpose all along. Who knew?

"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: ‘Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than
these." — Mark 12: 30-31

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Grace & Daddy’s Voice

An old hymn is bouncing around my head, but I can’t remember the exact title….

"Grace, grace. God’s Grace.
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within.
Grace, Grace. God’s Grace.
Grace that is greater than all my sin."

I want so desperately to pick up the phone and call my dad. Ask him what the name of it is, and listen to him sing it to me over the phone. Though he probably wouldn’t have sung it, but grabbed mom, whom he deemed the real musician in the family, and have her sing it to me. I don’t care. I’d take either one. I just want to hear their voices again.

I saved a couple of messages on my answering machine that daddy left me while I was overseas. I just listened to them again. Just to hear his voice. I wish I had something like that of mom….

Romans 8 seems to be where I’m parked Scripturally right now. For one thing, I’m trying to learn, soul-learn and experience-learn the truth of verse 1:

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus"

I think I’m harder on myself than anyone dares to even think of being on me. I somehow learned as I  grew up to condemn myself for anything and everything that went wrong. And certainly not to take credit for anything that went right. UNlearning that habit is hard. I’m working on it, but it’s hard.

Lately, however, I’ve been drawn to a section later in the chapter. Especially the way it’s written in The Message:

So don’t you see that we don’t owe this old do-it–yourself life one red cent. There’s nothing in it for us, nothing at all. The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life. God’s Spirit beckons. There are things to do and places to go!

This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What’s next, Papa?" God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us–an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we’re certainly going to go through the good times with him! That’s why I don’t think there’s any comparison between the present hard times and the coming good times. The created world itself can hardly wait for what’s coming next. Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.

I confess, I’m not there right now. Oh, I’ve been there before. And I’m pretty sure I’ll be there again. But right now, right now I’m not "adventurously expectant" and greeting God with a childlike "what’s next, papa?" My "what’s next?" is much more haggard and perhaps even a little cynical right now. A more "now what?" delivery.

I read this passage and I see hope. Yet I still feel rather hopeless. Or at the least, sad or melancholy or discouraged… or perhaps all three rolled into one big globby mess. Yet I SEE hope.

Perhaps that’s why I’m so drawn to it right now. I read it over and over, letting the words swirling around in my soul as if they were a glass of vintage wine to be savored, all the while pondering the deepening "joyful anticipation" Paul talks about.

Is this pain I feel, this longing for a place I’ve never seen but that I am convinced is where my parents now reside, is this joyful anticipation? Is this frustration with life, this aching to see Jesus face to face, to finally feel with my body what only my spirit and soul have felt all these years —  the caress of His hand, the sweet warmth of His breath on my face as He whispers my name, the special one HE’s given me, and His soft lips kiss my cheek before breaking into a smile, and hear with my ears His roaring laughter as we dance our first dance in heaven… is this aching "joyful anticipation"? Whatever it is, Paul is right about one thing. It’s deepening. Nearly to the point of madness.

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

Oh, thank GOD!! Someone finally acknowledges that we DO get tired in the waiting. Thank GOD He made a provision for this! Because THIS is where I am. As much as I’d like to say I’m charging forward like a Rhino — or should that be crashing forward — and living life on the Barbarian edge, the truth is much less glamourous or "spiritual". The truth is, I’m just hanging on for dear life right now. I’m not just tired in the waiting, I’m exhausted and beat up from the journey. I’m John the Baptist in prison awaiting a beheading and sending disciples to Jesus to ask, "Are you the one or should we look for another?" No, I’m not doubting Jesus. Just wondering why He’s going about healing everyone else and leaving me in this prison of depression. I’m Anna, widowed and bereft of a family of my own, serving out my days in the temple and awaiting the promised Messiah…. and waiting… and waiting…. and waiting….

God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.

So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us–who was raised to life for us!-is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:

They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.
We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I’m absolutely convinced that nothing–nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable–absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.

Hope. So much hope. I can SEE it. Why can’t I touch it? Why can’t I FEEL it?

And then I come back to Grace. I am not who I want to be. I am not all I think I "should" be. Yet every morning God’s laughter awakens me and He greets me as if I am perfect. Absolutely scratch-resistantly perfect. I am showered with Grace upon Grace upon Grace. And, finally, I FEEL a little hope…..

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Silence Is

My mom, I think, was afraid of silence. If no one would talk, she would fill the silence with her own voice, even when she really didn’t have anything to talk about. She would try to engage others in conversation but got frustrated when we didn’t want to talk. I’ve spent most of my life in my own head, not always noticing the silences — or being grateful for the few I found. So I wasn’t much help to my mom in filling the silences of life.

I’m experiencing one of those right now. A Silence of Life. But I noticed a frightening trend recently: I, too, have grown fearful of silence. Even when I’m alone I’ll have the tv on, or music playing. It’s been a rare occasion to spend time in silence. I noticed this a few weeks ago as I rode with Adria somewhere. She was in her own head and I longed to be in mine. She seemed content in the silence, but the silence felt strange to me – – not strained, as if we were estranged or something. Just strange. Foreign. I don’t like that feeling. When did I get this way?

God seems intent on bringing me fully into this silent moment, drawing me into it, begging me to turn off the noise and leave it off, calling me to be still.

I don’t know what this is supposed to accomplish. It feels like I’m accomplishing nothing, doing nothing, going nowhere. I want to get up and DO something. Anything. Especially with noise. But like a disciplining parent, God keeps putting me back on the blanket every time I roll over and crawl away. He turns of my loud-music-toys that I’ve turned on and calls me back into silence.

Perhaps this is what spiritual Nap Time looks like.

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Deep In

I’ve been in my head a lot the last week, contemplating things around me, observing, learning. God’s been teaching me and showing me in practical ways how to live in a new way.

I’m loving it. It’s so good to have such a hard-core deep relationship with God. Processing through things with Him is such a powerful mind-bending experience.

You know, for seven years now my life has become increasingly dynamic and rich. It’s as if my soul and spirit are finally fully awake and alive. I feel every emotion, see every nuance and hue in the world around me, taste every flavor…. yeah, that also means that the painful things are felt and experienced deeply, but I much prefer life this way, lived and experienced to the fullest, to the monotone life I had before. Two years ago this month I came to the realization that this is really what Christ meant when He talked about giving us Abundant Life. Its not about being on top of the world, it’s about your soul being awakened to every nuance and flavor of life, both good and bad.

For me, even the bad is good. Because God meets me in the bad and walks with me through it. He doesn’t take it away, or make it less, He just fills up the space with Himself and we walk together. I’ve never been married, but I’ve been in a few serious, lengthy relationships and I gotta tell ya, nothing has ever come close to the power and intimacy of my relationship with God. No man will ever be able to satisfy and fulfill me the way God does. Does that sound sacrilegious or… sick in some way? I can’t help it if it does. Its just the plain absolute truth. No one can touch this.

"How can I picture God’s kingdom for you? What kind of story can I use? It’s like a pine nut that a man plants in his front yard. It grows into a huge pine tree with thick branches, and eagles build nests in it…. How can I picture God’s kingdom? It’s like yeast that a woman works into enough dough for three loaves of bread–and waits while the dough rises."  — Jesus, Luke 13:18-20

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Morning Meditation

"Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart…

we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this allsurpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." — 2 Cor 4:1,7-11,16-18

An email conversation taking place between some of my Mosaic teammates got my spirit chewing on things this morning, after I worked out at the Y (Yippeee!! Lu is finally learning how to get up in the morning and EXERCISE! I’m still not a morning person, but, hey, I’m still awake and thinking 7 hours after I arose. šŸ™‚ Not a bad start to the new routine. PRAY that I can keep it up.)

I also read the Purpose Driven devotional email and saw a verse from this passage. Things began to click as my mind finally began waking up (a good hot shower always helps the mind-fog to clear).

How many times have I heard in my Christian life that, while suffering is a part of life in Christ, "joy comes in the morning." That is, the pain of suffering will vanish with the light of Jesus upon our souls — or something equally churchy, ethereal,enigmatic, and completely impracticable.

The reality of a follower of Christ just isn’t so pretty a picture. John the Baptist was left in prison to lose his head while Jesus healed and freed OTHERS. Peter died for Christ, Paul went through a litany of crap, John was banished to an uninhabited island, unnamed and countless other followers of Christ have been tortured and killed in our time, in places like Morocco, Libya, India, Indonesia and China.

All of us on my team are struggling and fighting and waging bloody dirty war every single day. Financial difficulties keep us all severely strapped for funds, unmet expectations and unrealized dreams taunt us and dog our every step, workplace strife and stress rips at our spirits and the hard, cold spiritual ground of Nashville leaves us with calluses on our souls as we till the land God has called us to.

I love reading the email of one teammate. He was so excited when we first began. Now he is feeling the beatings of the life of a Barbarian and is struggling to continue to seize every moment of this life to which Jesus called him. It’s such a beautiful sight to see!

Call me weird if you want, but I much prefer to see the struggle; to see followers of Christ contending with life, sometimes overcoming and sometimes being overcome by it, than to see an always victorious shiny person. Another friend is in the throes of wrestling with God over some issues in his life. I love that.

I don’t think you heard me yet. I LOVE THAT.

That’s real life. That’s the kind of life I want to live, the kind of life I want to journey alongside, the kind of community I want to be apart of. I belong in that kind of group. I’m probably the messiest follower of Christ you will ever meet. My life, my heart, my soul, my spirit. Every part of me is messy, muddy, bloody, gritty — and real. I’m not Janice Dickinson — nothing about me is fake and I’m absolutely not perfect. If you don’t like gritty, bloody reality, you better steer clear of me. ‘Cause I’m all about that kind of life. I’ve had my fill of the fluffy, no-complications kind of life most churches try to sell these days.

It is such a cool and amazing thing to be a part of a community where we all sweat and get dirty and bloody together. To watch my brothers contending with life is such an amazing blessing! It brings healing to my soul and courage to my heart. I am literally EN-couraged — filled to overflowing with courage — when I witness such things. Because it says to me, "there is hope for me yet."

There is hope that I can continue the Barbarian path I am on. There is hope that I can contend with life as they do. There is hope that our community will be real and authentic; a true community where hearts are bonded by the gritty reality of following Christ no matter the cost.

Fight on, my brothers! Your struggles buoy my spirit. Your untamed hearts give me courage to unleash my own. And your steadfast love for Christ spurs me on to greater levels of intimacy with Him.

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God’s Thunder

The thunder is rolling outside. One thunderstorm rolled through about an hour or so ago. Now another one approaches.

I absolutely love the sound of thunder. It reminds me of my childhood, watching thunderstorms roll through El Paso, and Casper, and Glorieta. Watching the lightning out the windows and counting the seconds until the crack of thunder. There’s such power in that sound — so you know there’s power in the lightning.

Many nights our first month or so in Delhi we would sit on our veranda, all 5 of us girls, and watch the storms roll across the city.  We were on the 4th floor, with a only a park in front of our building, so we had a good view of our surroundings. As we watched, inevitably someone would pick up the guitar and start playing a worship song. Before long we would all be singing praises to the Mighty God, He who made the thunder and rain. My prayers during those times were that God’s Spirit would sweep across the city like a storm, bright and loud and bringing cleansing rain.

I have a few friends who are deathly afraid of lightning and thunder. I’ve never understood that. To me the sound of thunder is comforting, soothing. Yes, great power is on display — and if you aren’t careful, you could end up on the wrong end of that power. But to fear it? To be frightened at every crack and rumble? I can’t imagine it.

Thunder is a beautiful sound to my ears. Like a great symphony, an amazing guitar lick or — or the drums coming in on Phil Collins’ "In The Air Tonight." I realized tonight how much I missed it when I stepped outside for a moment just in time to hear it rumble. It’s the rhythm that underscores and accentuates the rain. Without it the rain is, well, just wet. But add thunder and you have music. God’s music. Music in which He displays a hint of His power, celebrates life and brings life.

As a child my parents told me that thunder was God bowling. Perhaps that’s where my association with God and thunder began. Somewhere early in my life, however, God whispered to me that it wasn’t His bowling making the noise, it was His celebration of life.

Tonight as I read through the upper Psalms, I was struck by Psalm 99, particularly the first 4-5 verses.

The LORD reigns,
let the nations tremble;
he sits enthroned between the cherubim,
let the earth shake.
Great is the LORD in Zion;
he is exalted over all the nations.
Let them praise your great and awesome name-
he is holy.

The King is mighty, he loves justice-
you have established equity;
in Jacob you have done
what is just and right.
Exalt the LORD our God
and worship at his footstool;
he is holy.

As I read, I heard God whisper, "Think of it. That’s the One who stands in front of you and fights for you. That’s Me — your Lover."

I had always read these verses and believed my proper response should be fear. As I grew closer to the Lord, I couldn’t fit that belief into my shifting paradigm. I’m not afraid of God. I don’t fear Him at all. Yes, I know He’s all-powerful. But I also know how much and how deeply He loves me. He won’t hurt me. Not that I ever want to do anything that would make Him want to. I love Him very much and very deeply. Its the kind of love that so invades my very being that I just don’t want to hurt Him. I won’t allow myself to if I can at all help it. I don’t want to do that to Him.

But even with all that, reading passages of God’s might and how everyone and everything trembles and shakes before Him really left me with a dilemma that I couldn’t resolve: How am I supposed to respond to these verses?

God, in His whispering voice, answered my question, one I wasn’t even asking as I read.

My response can be the same as my response to thunder. I can rest in the comforting knowledge that all that power and might going on around me isn’t going to "get" me — instead, it is going before me. God stands in front of me, my Defender, my Champion; the One who fights for me.

I am such the quintessential girly-girl!! That hit me in the most needed places in my heart. I want to be championed. I want to be defended. I want to be fought for. And to think that all that power and all that might is on display to ward of my enemies, to defend me against attack, to fight for my honor and reputation, to stand between me and those who wish to take me captive… wow!

It’s a subtle shift in context, from looking at God as the Almighty to be feared —  which the Church these days often misnames "revered" or "respected" — to looking at God as the Almighty defender and protector and champion of me, of you, of all those who follow Him. But it makes a huge difference in how I view Him and how I now can see myself responding to passages like Psalm 99:1-4 with gratefulness, love and loyalty to my God.

And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect. So we will not be afraid on the day of judgment, but we can face him with confidence because we are like Christ here in this world.

Such love has no fear because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of judgment, and this shows that his love has not been perfected in us. We love each other as a result of his loving us first. – 1 John 4:17-19

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A Harry & Sally Moment….

In "When Harry Met Sally…" there is a scene where Sally calls Harry sobbing, so he rushes over to her apartment to see what horrible disaster has befallen his friend. Turns out her ex-boyfriend is getting married, and the news has had an unexpectedly painful effect on Sally. When Harry asks her, "If you could have him back today and he asked you to marry him, would you want him?"

Sally responds quickly and vehemently, "NO!!"

This leaves poor Harry absolutely flummoxed as to what the problem is. You poor men! There is no way for you to ever comprehend how a woman’s mind and heart work — and how they work in tandem, tag-teaming to drive us nearly insane with a bizarre combination of logic and emotion, that ultimately winds up distorting all reality and yet at the same time getting it so keenly on the mark.

Sally uncovers for us the real reason for her tears. "I thought he didn’t want to get married. But the truth is, he didn’t want to marry me. He didn’t love me."

I’m in a Sally moment. Of sorts. There are things I’ve realized I don’t want, situations and people I don’t want to commit to. But, like Sally, now that they are moving on and making commitments with others, my ego is taking a hit. My ego hurts. And it’s crying out in Sally-like pain, "No?! I don’t want them… I wouldn’t commit to that if they asked… but…. they didn’t ask. They aren’t asking. They don’t want me.

Ouch.

I know God has His hand in all this. I know Him. If this these things were His desire for me, the situations would be much different. He has a way of making things come together, even when we’re not sure it can, or should… or if we want it to….

But, dang. My ego hurts! I want people to want me. I want people to think I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread. And when they don’t — for whatever reason — I feel like I’ve failed.

I’m learning to fight those thoughts with God’s Truth about me. I’m not a failure when people don’t see my wonderfulness. I’m just not the kind of wonderfulness they need — or deserve (so says the snarky voice in my heart). But knowing these things, fighting the failure-feeling with these Truths, doesn’t take the sting out of rejection.

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In Love

His mouth is full of sweetness  And he is wholly desirable. This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem…" Song of Songs 5:16

I’m in love. So very, passionately, cray in love.

He’s funny, and wise, and brave, and heroic. He’s romantic, but also very rugged and manly. He always knows what to say, when to say it, and when to keep silent. He loves to laugh, but isn’t afraid to cry either. He’s larger than life and at the same time so very much down to earth and, "real". He’s transparent, authentic I guess is the best word. He is what you see and all you see. He hides nothing, yet at the same time is very mysterious. He knows more than I could ever dream to know. Yet He’s humble. He’s gracious, loving, passionate, kind, strong, powerful, skilled, creative, talented…. What can I say? He’s amazing. Just absolutely amazing.

Throughout the last three years I’ve cried on his shoulder time and time again. I’ve shouted him down a few times too. Whined a lot… all kinds of things. But he’s never complained, never gotten fed up with me. Instead, he’s always been there, comforting me, even when there were no words adequate to the pain I felt and the love and compassion he felt. He’s encouraged me in every endeavour I’ve undertaken, held me up through incredible pain, gotten me to laugh just when I needed it… man! What a lucky — blessed! — woman I am! Such a blessed woman. I know I am loved. Beyond doubt I know. He never misses an opportunity to tell me again of his love. No one could dream of a love this rich, this intimate, this passionate, this personal — it’s as if we were made for each other, we fit like hand-in-glove. I certainly couldn’t have dreamt of a love this crazy-wonderful.

And the craziest thing is I’ve never seen Him with my eyes. I only feel His Spirit within me, feel Him brush against me with every breeze. I see His hands and hear His voice in my mind… But I swear, I feel His breath on me every second of the day, breathing fresh Life into me.

I could never survive without this Love. It is what I live for. What I die for. It is the reason I am who I am.

His love. What a gift it is to me.

I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me. — Song of Songs 7:10

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Barbarian

I’m a Barbarian Christian. There’s no other way to put it. I gave up on civilized religion many years ago. It didn’t satisfy me. It left me feeling frustrated, unfulfilled, empty. The life I now live is uncivilized, uncultured and raw. I follow Jesus where ever He goes. Not because He tells me to, not because I’ll be "blessed" if I do, not because I must. But only because I want to.

I followed when He parked me in Hollywood. I followed Him to India. I followed Him to the Mediterranean. And I followed Him to Nashville. Yeah, God loves even Nashville. Kid Rock and all.

I don’t run around saying "Praise Jesus!" or "Glory!" But that’s just me. I’m more the "cool!" "Awesome!" "Jesus, You Rock!" kind of freak.

I’m not into Christian-eese. I hate it when people use those big churchy words, like propitiation. I mean, really. Who talks like that? My dad used to. But he was 80 when he died nearly two years ago. You expect 80 year-olds to talk like that. But not someone half his age. And certain not someone a quarter his age!

In a nutshell, I don’t fit in in a "regular" church. Singing songs, listening to a sermon and going home to Sunday dinner just isn’t me. I need to get my hands dirty, be down in the mud and muck with the rest of the world. That’s where real life happens. In the trenches, with people. And dang, people are just messy.

Life got really messy for me. It’s been ugly and painful for about three years now. And I’ve spent some pretty hefty time in deep contemplation of whether this whole Barbarian thing is worth it. It’s a rough, rugged, bare-fisted kinda life. And I ain’t no camper-girl. I’m more you standard hotel/urban-lovin’ city-girl.

I came to Nashville to plant a church like the one I have in Los Angeles. But now I’m struggling with whether to commit fully to this venture. Barbarian or not, there’s only so much pain I can endure. Planting a church is about as easy and painless as birthing a baby. Yeah.

Did I mention I hate pain?

Yes, I am a Barbarian — an urban-lover-pain-hater Barbarian. It’s not about the warrior part — Don’t think Conan. Yikes, I’ll never be that! Think — Amelia Earhart. Or Katharine Hepburn. Or Mary Tyler Moore. The ground-breaker. The Pioneer. Fierce, and unwilling to yield to her own fears or the nay-sayers around her. Its not about slashing and dashing, it’s about… the courage to give your life to something bigger than anything you ever imagined. Its about the humility to be transparent, to be real and authentic, even at the cost of your own heart. Its about caring so much about the people in your life that you give your life’s blood for their well-being. Its about living out the Bible, not just memorizing it or talking about it. And most of all, its about having a deep, intimate, passionate, crazy-making, relationship — with the Creator of the Universe.

My teammates saw in me something I couldn’t see myself. Last night they reminded me that I AM a Barbarian. They celebrated my un-civilzation and in doing so, they momentarily cleared the fog of confusion brought by my pain and brokenness. It takes time to heal. The deeper the wounds, the more time it takes. My wounds are pretty deep. But I’m still here. Someday I will be better. Last night, for a brief moment I saw myself clearly in the reflection of my teammates’ hearts — and I remembered Who I Am.

My name is Lu, and I am a Barbarian.

The Barbarian Way

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Quiet

Forgive me if this rambles or has lots of errors. I took some allergy medication shortly before I began writing and now I’m quite loopy….

Been a rather quiet weekend. Except for the fact that my phone nearly rang off the hook for a while. I am truly blessed with friends who love me and get concerned when I start talking about yelling at God and all. I’m so grateful for them!

I’ve been exhausted much of the time. Perhaps from wrestling with God. Perhaps just from depression. But I’m tired of whining to God. That’s part of what prompted my need to wrestle with Him. I’m tired of whining. Tired of crying out to HIm. I hurt, I want answers, I want Him to keep His promises — and yes, I want Him to keep His promises in MY time, not His. Well, while I know my passion moves God, I also know it won’t move Him to live by my timeline.

My relationship with Him is stronger, though, for the wrestling. He met me there, He fought with me there, and I now know beyond doubt He won’t leave me, He hasn’t forgotten me, and He will take care of me.

I still walk on a fragile ledge, though. The stresses of daily life can overwhelm me at a moment’s notice. Tonight I nearly crumbled under the weight of them, as I thought of all the things I don’t have settled, and how much I long for them to be so. 

Wendy wrote about Purpose the other day, talking about how single women sometimes get rather hung up on the issue, and wondering if David, Peter, Paul and others ever stewed over this issue or struggled with knowing what their purpose was. It prompted me to think of writing a children’s story about a pot wondering what it’s purpose was, since it seemed to rarely get used. Yet in the end it is the most special of pots, because it’s used only for special occasions, like making candy or perhaps to cook a turkey. My mom used to use the same huge pot to mix up and heat homemade ice cream as she used for baking a turkey. But she never used that pot for anything else.

What if we are like that pot? What if I am like that pot? And God only pulls me out for use once in a great while, but that use is incredibly important and special….

I realize we aren’t pots. Most people don’t have relationship with their pots the way God has relationships with us (unless you’re like my roommate, Adria, who’s nearly obsessed with cooking). I don’t believe we are just vessels for God to use for His purpose. If we were, then free will and all that is in vane.

No, we’re here for more than just to be used by God. I think we Christians try way too hard to simplify life down to its bare-bones. It’s either this, or its this. But life is much more complicated than that. It’s usually in the both/and that we live and  find the truth of life. It’s both hard and rewarding. Its both pleasure and pain. And it’s both purpose and just ’cause God wanted to have a relationship with us.

I love the show Joan of Arcadia. It portrays God the way I always experience Him. Not that God talks to me by taking control of other people, but the way He talks to me, what He says, and the way He acts, is so much like the way He talks to Joan — even down to the little wave as He walks away. šŸ™‚

Friday night’s episode was on love. And romance. At the end, God sums up the lesson for Joan by saying that Romance is an illusion, given to us because we wouldn’t risk otherwise. Then he concludes by saying:

"Illusion dies so something bigger can take its place. Love is hard work. You have to decide if you want it in your story, or if you want to stay in the dream."

More than six years ago I decided I no longer wanted to stay in the dream. I wanted to experience real life the way God intended for me to live it. I had spent years insulating myself and isolating my heart. But in one moment, I threw open the doors and let God in to every part, even the parts that were tender and raw from previous hurts and deep wounds. I look at where I am now, everything I have experienced, and I know it is because of that one moment back in October 1998 when I told God, "I want to LIVE."

Had I known then what I know now… I still would have embarked on this journey. I would have paused for a long moment, but I still would have opened my heart up to God and allowed Him to breathe fresh life into me. It has all been worth it to travel this road with God. For what has been birthed in my heart and lived out in this life I now have is NOT adventure, as I thought it would be six years ago. What has been planted deep in my heart and continues to grow even today is Love. A deep and abiding love — from Christ, for Christ and by extension for all those around me.

Love IS hard. Its hard work and full of pain. Those we love hurt us, disappoint us, and eventually leave us, their bodies decaying in the ground as their spirits live on in eternity. There is no way around this pain. No way. We must either endure it, or not love.

I want love in my story. Even with all the pain I have experienced, and the losses I endure, I would not give back a second of my time loving my parents, loving those who have rejected me and loving those whom I no longer see with my eyes.