A Mighty Fortress

 Saturday moning my alarm went off at 6:00 (and in the world of a college student that's unreasonably early). After a few minutes of getting myself ready and finishing some last minute packing, I grabbed my duffle bag, my pillow, locked my dorm room door, and went outside to meet the car-load of near-strangers with whom I'd spend the next eight days. It was the start to my Spring Break, and I hate to admit it, but I was kind of nervous.

In the fall, I signed up for Vanderbilt's Alternative Spring Break program. for those of you not familiar with ASB, it's a program designed to give students the opportunity to travel to one of thirty-seven sites in North America to provide some sort of community service with a group of 10-12 other Vanderbilt students. I was placed on the "Wagon Wheel" site in the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. The focus of our service is on combating homelessness and poverty by partnering with the organization Volunteer Farms. The name kind of says it all: Volunteer Farms relies on the labor of volunteers to run the farm which grows food for food banks. It's ultimate purpose is to provide nutritious, healthy food to hungry people in the Shenandoah Valley.

In short, I signed myself up for a week of manual labor on a FARM for my spring break...and as I climbed into that silver van full of the strangers I'd be working on a farm with, I began to seriously doubt my sanity.

I couldn't help questioning: WHY didn't I choose to go to the beach like a normal college student on spring break...or WHY I didn't choose to go home to spend time with family and friends...and perhaps most importantly, I was asking myself WHY farming EVER sounded like a fun spring break activity.

But I swallowed my fearful, doubtful, questioning attitude and climbed into that Virginia-bound van with a smile. And I'm happy to report that from our little house in the middle of the Shenandoah Valley this Sunday night that coming on this trip has been the best decision I've made in quite a while.

Yesterday we made the long car ride from Nashville to Fort Valley, Virginia--complete with lots of group bonding and an epic Taylor Swift marathon of ever song she's ever recorded. So. Much. Fun. After a late-night game of Apples to Apples, I knew without a doubt that it was going to be a good week.

Today was our free day to enjoy being in Virginia together (don't worry...we'll start our farming tomorrow). We all went together to explore Luray Caverns, a gorgeous maze of underground rock formations filled with enormous stalactites and stalagmites.

From above ground, the caverns looked like they wouldn't be anything more than a hokey tourist trap (and believe me...there are plenty of those in the town of Luray, VA). We pulled into the parking lot and passed a giant maze of hedges, an automobile museum, and a gift shop. I did not have high expectations for the caverns. But upon venturing down the flight of stairs from the building's entryway into the heart of the caverns, I was astounded by the intricacies of the natural rock formations.

I couldn't help but feel that Luray Caverns is an impeccable example of the way the handiwork of mere people will never match the beauty of the creation of our great God. In an attempt to make the caverns a more appealing place to visit, someone had constructed a huge parking lot, and several really unappealing tourist-y buildings. However, the caverns, an uninterrupted example of God's work, were absolutely awe-inspiring. His greatness is unfathomable, and it's humbling to experience even a glimpse of God's glory in the work of His hands.

As we made our way through the caverns, I found myself smiling to think of what fun God must have had designing some of the more notable rock formations, like the stalactites that look like a water fall, the stalagmites that form the shape of "a big shaggy dog," or these little rocks that look just like a pair of fried eggs:

As funny as the fried-egg rocks are, the most impressive part of the Caverns is without a doubt the room dubbed "Giants' Hall" with it's massive naturally-vaulted ceilings, surrounded on all sides by some of the largest stalactites in the caverns.

As our tour group made our way into "Giants' Hall" the guide asked us to gather into the center of the room so that we could witness the playing of the "Great Stalac-pipe Organ" (the world's largest musical instrument, comprised of stalactites spread out over 3.5 acres within the caverns that each chime a different note when struck by a rubber mallet).

Within moments "Giants' Hall" was flooded with the resonating tones of Martin Luther's beloved hymn: A Mighty Fortress is Our God.

     "A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;

     Our helper He, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing:
     For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;
     His craft and power are great, and, armed with cruel hate,
     On earth is not his equal.

     Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;
     Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
     Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
     Lord Sabbath, His Name, from age to age the same,
     And He must win the battle.


     And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
     We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:
     The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
      His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
      One little word shall fell him.


     That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;
     The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth:
      Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
     The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still,
     His kingdom is forever."

And in that moment, I was moved to worship. A more appropriate song could not have been played by the deep, reverberating tones of the stalactites. "A mighty fortress is our God...His kingdom is forever." Our great God is Lord of all Creation, and He leaves beautiful reminders in the work of his hand to draw us to rejoice in his glory. And right now I'm thankful for spring break. For a trip to Virginia. For a house full of new friends to spend a week with. For Luray Caverns. For stalactites. For Martin Luther's hymn. But most of all, I'm thankful that each aspect of this adventure is filled with opportunities to simply revel in the goodness and glory of my God.

To Make Much of You

 

I just got back from RUF Winter Conference, and I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my weekend. On Friday afternoon, after class, we loaded up the cars and left Nashville--bound for Fall Creek Falls state park in Pikesville, TN.

As we pulled out of the Vanderbilt parking lot, I was still feeling more worried than excited. I wasn't worried about the conference itself or any of the wonderful things it entailed: time with friends, the chance to worship to absolutely incredible worship, or spending time outside in the gorgeous spring-time weather we've been getting to enjoy here in the middle of February. Instead, I was worried about the days following the weekend: Monday and Tuesday. In the first two days of my week, mid-terms will hit with full force.

But as we continued to drive across East Tennessee on our way to Winter Conference, I slowly began to let go of my worries and enjoy the trip. The sun went down not long after we started our drive, and bright pin-points of starlight broke up the dark night sky. They were such a welcome sight because in my little corner of Nashville, the city lights are usually too bright to see the stars.

In our two hour drive, it was as though we fled civilization. We left the bright bustling city of Nashville, and when we reached East Tennessee we departed from the interstate. We drove through little country towns where fields full of sleeping cows lined the roads. And finally we entered the state park and drove slowly up into the mountains on a road bent and broken with countless hairpin turns. We even got lost for a little while and followed the incredibly long "scenic route" that actually wasn't very scenic in the dark.

We finally arrived at the Fall Creek Falls Inn, deep in the heart of the park, and without cell phone service or city lights it felt so far away from the rest of the world. Making it absolutely the perfect place to retreat from all of my stress about all the little things that populate my life.

After unloading the car, we made our way inside the main part of the Inn. As we walked through the doors we were greeted by the sound of hundreds of voices singing in unison to the old, familiar "Arise, My Soul, Arise." Worship had already started, so we hurried to join in. From the back of the room, I noticed so many familiar faces. Winter Conference was open to RUF groups from across the southeast so many of my sweet friends who go to Auburn and Alabama were there. Surrounded by my new college friends as well as close friends from back home, I couldn't help but smile. And as we all worshiped Jesus together, I knew that it was going to be a really incredible weekend.

In the few days of Winter Conference, we enjoyed sunshine and seminars, game nights and large-group worship. The whole weekend was wonderful, but one moment in particular stands out against the rest.

On Saturday afternoon, we were given free time that lasted from just after lunch until it was time for dinner. The free time activity that my friends and I chose, was the hike to the park's namesake waterfall: Fall Creek Falls.

In celebration of a sunny 70 degree hiking day in the middle of February, I donned Chacos and running shorts and set off down the trail with my friends. The trail we chose winds its way down a wooded hillside, through an open green valley, ultimately arriving at the base of the falls.

When we rounded the final bend in the trail and the falls came into view, I was absolutely taken aback by the torrential downpour of water, thundering over a dark rock-face, and landing in a deep blue-green pool below.

In that moment I was so humbled, to realize that this waterfall, with its natural beauty and power, is just a diminutive reflection of the beauty and power of my God who created it. To see the continually flowing water cascade nearly 300 feet down the face of the falls, reminded me of how big God's hand is in creation and how small I am in comparison. It was one of those refreshing moment when I realize how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things.

In the routine of everyday life, it's so easy for me to get swept away in the stress and responsibilities of meetings, tests and papers. It's easy to feel like my success at these sorts of things is the end-all-be-all of my existence. It's easy to forsake the things that really matter for things that are far less important.

But to stand and gaze at the wonder of creation that reflects the wonder of my God, I couldn't help but feel that the things I worry so much about are actually incredibly insignificant. In a moment like this, I can't help but feel my own insignificance.

And normally that would be a painful realization. Our society tells us that we must prove our significance through our success so that we will be worthy of love and attention. But in truth, I am not ever going to be able to earn significance. I am unworthy, but I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I am the precious creation of my God, my all powerful and fully loving Creator. And even in the midst of my sinful insignificance, Jesus loved me enough to redeem me. Without his love I am unworthy, but through his redeeming love I am made worthy. And it's moments like this that remind me that it's when I'm faced with my insignificance that I can see more fully, the be beauty of my God.

" 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me."
                       2 Corinthians 12:9

Yes, I will boast all the more gladly in my weakness, for when I see my comparative insignificance I become more fully aware of the glorious significance of my God.

I'm reminded of Steven Curtis Chapman's song, "Much of You":

"How could I stand here

And watch the sun rise

Follow the mountains

Where they touch the sky

Ponder the vastness

And the depths of the sea

And think for a moment

The point of it all was to make much of me

Cause I'm just a whisper

And You are the thunder and

I want to make much of You, Jesus

I want to make much of Your love

I want to live today to give You the praise

That You alone are so worthy of

I want to make much of Your mercy

I want to make much of Your cross

I give You my life
Take it and let it be used

To make much of You

"How could I stand here...and think for a moment the point was to make much of me?" When I come fact to face with even the slightest reflection of the glory of my God, I am humbled by my insignificance in comparison to Him. And I am thankful for that. I rejoice that my God is strong when I am weak. My God is sovereign when I am powerless. He is loving when I am bitter. His grace is persistent when my heart wanders. And my God is faithful when I am faithless. His perfection covers my flaws, and my insignificance is made worthy in Him.

So I will rejoice, and make much of Jesus. I will celebrate mercy, grace, and unfailing love. I will rest in the knowledge that my God is greater and more glorious than I can fathom, and yet he loves me unconditionally. I have no need to prove my significance, for when I am weak, His power is made perfect.

Truth Isn't Always Safe

Nights like tonight are by far the best part of getting to live in the city of Nashville.

Nashville has been dubbed "Music City USA" and it is deserving of its name. From the country music that flows unceasingly into downtown from the doorways of honky-tonks and dance halls, to the young guy who serenades customers outside Sweet Cece's (the local frozen yogurt shop), to the Bridgestone Arena--Nashville's music venue with a seating capacity of 20,000, live music absolutely permeates this city.

But in the six months that I've been in school here, nothing else quite measures up to the way that I got to experience "Music City" tonight. I didn't pay a lot of money for a ticket and I didn't attend a crowded concert in a trendy venue. Instead, I made my way to Bongo Java East, a little unassuming coffee shop that hosted a few local musicians tonight.

Anyone who walked through the doorway of Bongo Java tonight was greeted by the warm smell of coffee and warm smiles from everyone in the room.

The performers at the coffee shop tonight were all singers and song-writers who have established themselves as Christian artists. And the crowd of believers that gathered to hear them shared a strikingly sweet community. Hugs, and smiles, and laughter characterized the crowd, and as people filtered through the door one or two at a time, everyone was greeted warmly by an elderly man who sat by the door saying simply "Welcome, brother" or "Welcome, sister" as people walked by.

As the music started, I settled down into a little coffee shop chair in the second row of the audience. As the opening performers played, I sipped a chai latte and slipped into a comfortable mindset of worship as I listened to the songs sung as praise to Jesus.

It wasn't long though, before my level of comfort in the feel-good aspects of Christianity was challenged. When Tiffany Arbuckle Lee of the band Plumb took the microphone, I was expecting a rather simple, but pleasant rendition of songs of hers that I've heard on the radio. I was so wrong. Instead, she chose to preform her new, and as of yet, unrecorded song "Unlovable." Written as a challenge to the modern church, "Unlovable" speaks from the perspective of an outsider, someone who has been rejected, rather than embraced in love, by followers of Jesus:

               "Why am I not welcome in your company?
                 Why do you treat me like an enemy?
                 If you believe the way you say you do,
                 Then why am I unlovable to you?"

Wow. Anyone else feeling convicted? I know I'm unable to read those lyrics without being brought to absolute humility in the face of my inability to love people in a way that demonstrates even a reflection of the love of my Savior.

To be honest, these lyrics even make me feel a little bit uncomfortable. I know that they speak truth, but they provide such a striking challenge to the way that I, along with most other believers, live my life. It feels safe, comfortable, and predictable to associate with people that are like us. I think it's this tendency of our hearts that draws us to choose friends and neighbors that are just the same as we are. And this same tendency of our hearts overflows into our spiritual life and leads us to join congregations, participate in Bible studies, and worship with people that are like ourselves. Often, our churches look like we do--and I'm particularly convicted to think about the wonderful campus ministry I've gotten involved with here at Vanderbilt. I love it dearly, but for the most part, it is filled with people that look and think and act (and are even in the same sorority) as me. I love to gather and fellowship and worship Jesus with those people, but there's something missing in the picture when too many of the people we love are just like we are.

The Gospel is so much bigger and so much more powerful than our proclivity to love and associate in simple, comfortable circles of same-ness. We are loved with a radical, unceasing love. We are sinners loved immeasurably by a perfect God. And when we have been captivated and transformed by that love, the mark of being a new creation in Jesus is supposed to be our love for one another.

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you are also to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples."
              John 13:35

We are called to love as Jesus loves, and his love is a love that transcends boundaries of race, age, and religion. His love is a restorative love that binds broken hearts. His love is a forgiving love that looks past our imperfections, to see who we are rather than what we've done. He has loved us with a perfect love. And although we are sinful and imperfect, even a broken love that emulates Jesus' love is powerful enough to display to the world that we are followers of Christ.

All too often though, we as the church of Christ, do not demonstrate the love of Christ. Anyone is capable of loving someone who looks and thinks and acts the way they do. I think it's time for us, as believers, to embrace Christ's new command and love one another--even love those people that are different or disagreeable or hard to love. For if we have been loved unconditionally, how can we not love in return?

In a simple three minute song, I was drawn out of my comfort-zone and challenged to step away from a "safe" approach to Christianity. Through a few lines of lyrics, I was called to embrace the teachings of the Jesus of the Bible, rather than the teachings of a white-washed over-simplified version of religion. Christianity is radical. It isn't always safe, and it isn't always comfortable...and I faced that truth more than once tonight.

I faced that truth again in the final performance of the night. The last musician to play in tonight's line-up was Derek Webb. I pretty much grew up on Derek Webb's music. When I was little, Derek sang with Caedmon's Call. Their music was like the soundtrack to my childhood. I can remember so many nights of talking with my parents while they washed the dishes and songs like "There You Go" or "Thy Mercy" played in the background. (To this day, "Thy Mercy" remains my favorite song of all time). And  I have such vivid, happy childhood memories of dancing with my Daddy in the kitchen to the song "Hands of the Potter."

But more recently, Derek Webb split from Caedmon's Call to pursue a solo career. While preforming on his own, his music has drawn great criticism for straying from a "traditionalist" stand-point on the Gospel. I don't know if you're familiar with the controversy, or how you might feel about some of his more recently released music...and to be honest, I don't know if it really matters.

What I do know is that Derek Webb has chosen to proclaim truth that he feels deeply convicted about at the expense of both his financial success as an artist and his popular reception among fans. And I respect that.

The Gospel isn't easy, and it isn't popular. The world isn't receptive to the truth that we are all broken and in need of a Savior who redeems by grace alone. That truth defies everything that our society is built upon, and people don't want to hear a message that calls attention to our brokenness and unworthiness.

I was particularly moved when he sang lines from his song "Nobody Loves Me":

     "I'm a dangerous crusader, because I need to tell the truth"

     "The truth is never sexy, so it's not an easy sell"

     "So I'll say the words that rattle your nerves, words like sin
      and faith alone"

I need to tell the truth. The truth is never sexy. I'll say the words that rattle your nerves, words like sin and faith alone. As I listened, I was struck, full-force by the power of the Gospel and our need to speak its truth it regardless of the way in which we will be perceived by our culture for proclaiming Jesus.

So tonight, I am thankful to live in Nashville. I am thankful for free concerts in my favorite little coffee shops. I am thankful for good music. And I am thankful for the simple ways in which God pulls at my heart, to more fully reveal his truth to me.

As Webb sings, "The truth is never sexy, so it's not an easy sell." The truth of the Gospel is not appealing to our culture. It isn't always safe. It isn't always comfortable. But it is beautiful and essential and life-giving. We have been captivated and transformed by love and our eyes have been oped to this truth that is worthy to be lived out and proclaimed in every chance we get.

Love without Limits

Boxes of Chocolates. Bouquets of Roses. Hallmark Cards. Red and Pink Color Schemes. Sweethearts Candy. Love Songs. Candlelight Dinners. Romantic Movies. Welcome to Valentine's Day, our culture's day devoted to the celebration of love.

Valentine's Day influences every level of our society on February 14th. The CVS down the street from campus has been absolutely taken over by boxes of Valentines, chocolates, and heart-shaped candies. The Vanderbilt dining hall where I ate my breakfast this morning set up tables filled with bouquets of flowers, stuffed animals, and other gifts for students to buy for their boyfriends and girlfriends. The google homepage has been covered in red and pink hearts, and TV channels (not that I actually have enough time to watch TV anymore) have been announcing plans to run Valentines specials all day long today.

Valentine's Day had even infiltrated the middle school where I went to lunch today. (For those of you that don't know...I've gotten involved with Nashville YoungLife. It's awesome. And on Mondays I get to go to lunch with the girls I help to host a Bible study for.) Usually the Monday lunch conversations I get to have with these sweet 5th graders centers around their activities of the past weekend, the play practice that they go to on Monday afternoons, or the awesome last-second  win in the girls' basketball game on Saturday.

But today, the girls didn't want to talk about any of those things. All day long, the guys at this school had apparently been approaching different girls and asking the classic question "Will you be my Valentine?". It was this all-important Valentine's Day match-making that formed the center of lunch-time conversation.

For the girls who had a "Valentine," the girls who had been given little love notes, the girls who had been presented with candy or even a red carnation, it was obvious that the morning had been a really good one. These girls were all-smiles. But there were other girls at the table who obviously were not enjoying Valentine's Day quite as much. These girls had hoped for a "Valentine" but no one had asked them. One of the girls even said "I don't really like boys that much. It would just be nice to know that one of them likes me."

At first, I couldn't help but feel that their dejection was a little bit ridiculous. My goodness, these girls are only in 5th grade. They're just ten or eleven years old. They don't need to be paired off for Valentine's Day. For goodness' sake, I'm in college and I'm not paired off for Valentine's Day. It's okay. But as I thought more about their situation I realized that these girls were just feeling the universal human desire to feel loved and accepted.

"It would just be nice to know that one of them likes me." Wow. This ten year old, in her school uniform, eating Lunchables chicken nuggets articulated one of the deepest desires of our hearts. As people, we are hard-wired to crave affirmation of who we are. We seek confirmation of our worth in knowing that we are loved and cared for. We long for affirmation, affection, sympathy, encouragement, and support.

Knowing that others approve of us feels good. Knowing that we are loved by friends and family feels even better. But even this love doesn't fulfill our desire to be loved completely and unconditionally. No person will ever be able to satisfy us completely, for human relationships are always tainted by shadows of the possibility of rejection or withdrawal. Shadows that stem from the darkness of sin that clouds the human heart. But there is radical good news: even the best human relationships are only broken reflections of a complete love, and this complete love is offered by our gracious and glorious God, in whom there are no shadows.

The all-encompassing love of God is evidenced in countless verses throughout the Bible:

"I have loved you with an EVERLASTING LOVE; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you."
     Jeremiah 31:3

"Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my UNFAILING LOVE for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed," says the LORD, who has compassion on you."
     Isaiah 54:10

"There is no fear in love, but PERFECT LOVE casts out fear."
     1 John 4:18

And the all-too-familiar verse that sums up the love story of the Gospel:

"For God so LOVED the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish, but will have eternal life."
     John 3:16

We are loved with a radical love. We are loved with a love that surpasses all understanding. We are loved with an infinite love. We are loved with an unconditional love. But far too many people around us do not understand that they are loved without conditions or limits.

So today, and everyday for that matter, celebrate love. Proclaim love. Live love. Not the "love" of Hallmark cards or romantic movies, but the all-sufficient and all-encompassing love that overlooks our fears and failures to redeem us and justify us as children of God.

Faithfully Present

Last night I was talking with a friend about how painful it can be when God feels far away. For me, it was such a refreshingly honest conversation to get to have. I rarely hear someone acknowledge how discouraging it can be to long for God's presence, but feel that God simply isn't there.

So often, I feel that as believers we feel compelled to demonstrate to the world the value of our relationship with Jesus. It's so exciting to get to share the joyful parts of our walk with God, but in our culture that is so focused on success, so focused on proving our worth, it's hard to acknowledge when things are difficult. I know that in my own life, it's more comfortable to put on a front of having things all pulled together. But let's be honest--most of the time we don't have it all pulled together. Our lives arent' perfect, and neither are our walks with Jesus.

I wish that I could say that in the years that I've been a Christian, that my relationship with God has been one of steady and constant growth. I wish that I could say that in each day I have experienced new life that I have also rejoiced in my Jesus. And I wish that I could say that I wake up every morning with a desire to spend time in the word because God is my God and I love him. But that hasn't always been the case.

My walk with Jesus has been one that has been characterized by times of joy in my wonderful, glorious, Savior, but it has also been characterized by times when my heart has wandered, when I have been consumed by doubt, and when unbelief has blinded me to the beauty of Christ's saving grace.

In the past several weeks I have been blessed to really experience Christ and to get to see God working in my life. At times like these, it's easy to forget that Christ sustains me both in seasons of joy and in seasons of doubt. It brings such comfort to know that He holds us in His hands even when we feel far from Him. Even when we feel separated from His love. Even when we are overcome by unbelief.

When I think about my walk with Jesus, I am reminded of the man in Mark 9:24 who calls out to Christ, "I believe, Help my Unbelief". I do believe. I believe because Jesus has opened my eyes to recognize Him as my savior. But in my sinfulness I still struggle with my unbelief, and I think that I'll struggle with it for as long as I'm of this earth. In some ways, though, I can rejoice in my weakness and in my unbelief for my Jesus is faithful to draw me close to Him. My Jesus is greater than my failings.

So I rejoice when I feel God's presence and see Him at work, but I'll also patiently wait for Him when the feeling fades and doubt infiltrates my interactions with Jesus. For in both the good times, and the bad I have come to see the Gospel clearly portrayed: I am unworthy to even comprehend the greatness of my God, and yet He loves me, calls me, and redeems me. In both times of joy and in times of discouragement we can see that Jesus never leaves. He never forsakes. He is patiently persistent. He is faithfully present. And for that, I am inexpressibly thankful.

Preeminent

Today I feel as though I've been moving about a million miles an hour. My day was scheduled from the moment I woke up until well into the night, and it wasn't until I met a few friends for dinner that I finally slowed down and stopped moving.

It felt good to be still for a little while. But even as I took time out of my day to "rest" my mind continued running through my to do list: a paper to write, homework to finish, the fact that I'll need to be up at 5:00 AM tomorrow. All too often I find myself preoccupied with all I need to do that I forget to enjoy the here and now. I have a tendency to busy myself, to fill my schedule with study, meetings, and appointments until there is no time left to simply rejoice in the fact that today is beautiful and that simply living this life is a gift.

There's so much that I miss out on when I schedule my day so full that I get caught up in the busy-ness and forget to step back and worship my God for his grace, his glory, and his presence in my daily life. I almost missed out on so much tonight. I almost went straight back to my dorm to busy myself with studying for the night. Instead, as I stood up from the table one of my friends mentioned that she was going to Sanctuary.

For those of you that aren't familiar with it, Sanctuary is a student-led praise and worship event held at a local Nashville church every Thursday night at 9:00. It draws quite a crowd from Vanderbilt, Belmont, Fisk, and Lipscomb Universities--and for good reason. It's wonderful.

So when I heard that she was going to Sanctuary, I impulsively ditched my plans for the evening (which is very out of character, I like to plan and I always stick to my plans).  And it was the best decision I've made in a long time.

I told a friend from home that I was going to go to Sanctuary, and immediately I received just the spiritual encouragement I needed...in the form of a simple text message: "Enjoy it and take this time to worship with all of your heart." God must have known that I would need that simple reminder because it really convicted me. And so I bid good-bye to the stresses and little concerns of campus for a couple hours and I focused on the chance to join in fellowship and lift my voice in praise to my King.

When we arrived at Sanctuary we quietly made our way to the front and joined the worship. In that dark room, surrounded on all sides by other college students simply worshipping our Jesus together, I was so humbled that it's hard to explain.

The reactions to this worship of our God were many and varied, but each was a response to the genuine praise in the sanctuary. Many of those around me lifted their hands in worship, while others slowly sat down and bowed their heads in prayer. One girl sitting in the seat next to me even stood up and made her way to the front of the room where she danced, joyfully danced, in worship of the Lord Most High.

Surrounded by so many other people earnestly seeking to bring honor and praise to our God: Creator, Redeemer, and Savior--I was struck by the magnificence of my Jesus in comparison to all of the little things that distract me from Him throughout the day. In that moment I was reminded of Colossians 1:18 "And he [Christ] is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent." Different versions of the Bible provided varying translations for this last word of the verse. The ESV calls Christ "preeminent", the NIV says "so that in everything that he might have the supremacy" and the NLT says "so that he is first in everything."

Preeminent. First. Supreme. Christ reigns over all creation: he always has and he always will. But so often in my sinfulness I fail to see Jesus as preeminent. I fail to grant him supremacy over the distractions in my day or the desires of my heart. So, in my sinful inability to see the full glory of Christ, I am made all the more grateful for the faithfulness of my God to patiently pursue me and lovingly remind me of his glorious preeminence over all.

You Paint the Sky

 
God must have known how upset I was with the rainy weather in Nashville yesterday because He sent me an absolutely gorgeous (albeit, very cold) day to enjoy today. There's nothing quite like a rainy day to make me appreciate blue skies and bright sunshine. But when you get down to it, most of life is like that--most of the time I think we wouldn't be able to appreciate the value of the blessings we receive if it weren't for the trials that we endure.

Today I had the chance to rejoice in the sunshine and I was so thankful to not have to brave a torrential downpour every time I needed to change classes or go to the dining hall go get something to eat. I definitely celebrated the beautiful weather today, but it wasn't until I'd made it back to my dorm room for the afternoon and started chipping away at the mountain of reading assignments I had to do today that I fully appreciated the majesty of God's handiwork in today's bright, clear skies.

When I looked out my window toward downtown Nashville, I was taken aback by the beauty of the clouds. They hung majestically over the city, deep purple and reflecting the golden rays of the sun. I immediately though of the lyrics of "Love Song":

      You walk on waves,
      You run with clouds,
      You paint the sky for me to see,
      Your majesty,
      Your majesty is why I sing

"You paint the sky for me to see". I'm in awe of the greatness of my God who is King of Kings and the Lord Most High, yet He is intimately involved with the here and now that I experience in each moment of my day.  He is the all-powerful ruler of all, and yet He pauses to paint a beautiful Nashville sunset. The work of His hands is truly awe-inspiring. And just as the golden clouds this afternoon reflected in a small part the bright rays of today's sunshine, all of creation reflects, in part, the glory of our awesome God.

All too often, I hear friends and classmates say that they simply can't believe that there is a God because they have never experienced Him. I understand their reservations and their doubt because I've experienced it, but today when I looked at the sunset I became immensely grateful for the way that God reveals Himself to us--even when we aren't privileged to gaze upon His face. For in a Nashville sunset, I had the chance to witness God's glorious handiwork that reflects His own infinite glory.

"The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork." Psalm 19:1. Our great God is ever-present and makes His existence known in even the seemingly least significant aspects of creation. So I hope to train my eye to look for Him in all situations. I want to hear God in the wind, I want to feel Him in the Sun, and I want to smell Him in the flower. The glory of my God surrounds me, and all that is required of me is to be still for a moment and experience Him.

He is Reflected in the Rain Drops.

I woke up to a gray Nashville morning with big fat raindrops rolling down the the panes of my dorm room window. Dreary, cold, wet weather has enveloped the city today.

For those of you that know me well, you know that regardless of what's going on...I'd probably rather be outside. In a list of my favorite things in the world, things like sunshine, green grass, blue skies, stars, sunsets, rope swings, mountains, and lakes all rank at the very top. I'm enthralled by the beauty of creation and I love to get out and enjoy it in any way that I can whether that's taking long hikes, driving scenic back roads instead of interstate, or simply going for a walk in the neighborhood after dinner.

So when the icky winter weather rolled back into Nashville and washed away the pretty sunshine I'd enjoyed this weekend, I ended up in a dreary mood that matched the dreary weather. I'd like to make a public apology to anyone who may have had the misfortune of encountering me this morning--because in between the headache that I had and the messy rainy day, I was not a happy camper. To make a bad situation even worse, I had a class that met in a building as far away from my dorm as you can get on Vanderbilt's campus. Despite my raincoat, my umbrella, and my rain boots, within a few minutes of stepping outside, today's weather combination of wind and rain had joined forces to douse me from head to toe.

At first I was incredibly frustrated...but God was gracious enough to use the rain this morning as a means to draw my eyes to Him. As I trudged across campus with my hair soaked and the relentless rain drops washing my make-up down my cheeks, I was suddenly reminded of Psalm 51:2 in which David cries out to God: "Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!"

In that moment, my attitude toward that rainy Nashville day changed completely. And rather than viewing the rain as a nuisance and a frustration, I saw each drop falling from the sky as a physical parable for the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me. In the same way that the rain drops slid down my cheeks, washing the make-up from my face, I am soaked in grace to the extent that each of my faults, my imperfections, and my sins are washed away completely. And just as the rain that fell from the sky this morning will bring new life to the trees and grass and flowers around campus, I am now a new creation because I have been washed and redeemed by the blood of Christ.

Today, I was reminded that my God is the creator of both rainy days and sunny days--and that there is beauty in everyday because my Lord has made it. I was reminded that my God is sovereign when things are going well, and my God is sovereign when they aren't. And most importantly, I was reminded that regardless of the challenges that tomorrow may bring that everything will be okay because I have been washed--I have been redeemed.

So today I'll rejoice in the rain (and tomorrow I'll rejoice in the snow that's headed for Nashville) for each day is a reflection of the beauty and goodness of my Creator, and is therefore worthy to be celebrated.

I Am Free

After class today, I headed back across campus to my dorm and ended up walking behind two girls. They couldn't have been more than 14 or so, and they were probaby from a local high school. The girls were deep in conversation:

One of them said "You HAVE to be able to succeed academically if you're not able to succeed athletically." And the other girl nodded sadly before she said "I wish I were artistic or maybe really musical...then I'd at least have a chance at being good at something."

They both seemed so burdened by an obvious longing to demonstrate their worth. And in the brief moments of their conversation that I overheard, I realized that these high school girls with matching pink laces on their tennis shoes and brightly colored backpacks slung over their shoulders had articulated a profound truth about our society.

We live in a competitive world. We are constantly bombarded with the message that we must prove ourselves to demonstrate our worth. All you've got to do is look around you--you'll see it played out in just about every aspect of our culture. Magazines tell girls that they need to be pretty, fix their hair, do their make-up, wear expensive clothes, and fit into about a size zero to be loved and to be valued. While ESPN and other "masculine" parts of our culture send the constant message to guys that they need to be muscular, athletic, wealthy, and drive nice cars to be "real men" who will be respected by society. And from things as seemingly insignificant as middle schoool dance team tryouts to increasingly cut-throat college admissions process to the pressures of the job market, we are told that we must be pretty, smart, healthy, athletic, popular, successful, and better than the next guy to win a place in society so that we will be considered worthy and significant.

We all participate in this frenzy for acceptance and recognition because we are hardwired with a desire for love and approval. And yet, the attention that we win and accolades we receive will never satisfy us completely because there will always be someone smarter, stronger, faster, or wealthier than we are. In a sense, we're all playing hard and fast at a game that we can't win.

But even though I'm not able to win the praise and affection I so crave from our society, I am loved unconditionally. I am loved with an intensity that surpasses what I have or haven't done. Instead, I am loved purely and passionately for who I am. Even when I feel that I don't quite measure-up, the awesome and all-powerful God of the universe loves me, simply for me. I'm reminded of Isaiah 43 in which God says to his people "I have called you by name, you are Mine." Just thinking of that assurance makes me smile. So much. My God knows my name, and calls me. And even when I'm feeling insignificant, I can rest in knowing that I am valuable to Him, for I am His.

Later in Isaiah 43, verse 4 pours forth yet more assurance of God's love for His children: "You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you." To be precious in the eyes of my God, to be honored, and to be loved by my Creator, my King, and my Redeemer is of immeasurable worth. In this love that is so deep and given so freely, I am free. I am free to find my worth in Jesus rather than in my abilities and acomplishments...and that leaves me free to rejoice in the wonder of each day: to enjoy the beauty of creation, to rest in the love of my Creator, and to proclaim to the world that Jesus is King. For in this love, I am free.

Transience

Tonight I just feel tired. Not really physically tired, more mentally worn-out. I'm two and a half weeks into my second semester of college and although it's been great, tonight I just feel overwhelmed.

For those of you who know me well, you know that I'm a planner. I like to know what's going to happen today, tomorrow, and next week. Don't get me wrong, sometimes spontaneity can be fun...but for the most part I crave a sense of normalcy in my life.

So far this semester, that sense of normalcy has been hard to come by. I feel like the word that best describes these past couple weeks for me is BUSY. My schedule is different every day, and I can't seem to establish any semblence of a routine. In short, I feel like I've been in a perpetual state of transience.

But my perspective on all of this changed while I was talking with a friend about an hour ago. He asked me "Wanna know what made me super happy?" I was expecting a simple answer: something good for dinner, not much homework for the night, or maybe having seen a good friend at Wednesday night church. Instead he told me about the really awesome worship of our great God that he'd gotten to experience earlier at youth group. They'd sung the song Amazing Grace. He then forwarded me the text of my very favorite verse of that 18th century hymn:

"When we've been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We've no less days to sing God's praise,
Than when we first begun"

As I read those sweet, familiar words my face broke out into the biggest smile. I haven't stopped smiling yet, for in a simple text message from a friend from back home and in the words of a hymn that's been around for more than two centuries, my God spoke clearly and decisively to me--bringing me peace in my situation.

When I stopped to think for a moment about the joyous eternal worship that I'll someday partake in, my feelings of transience began to seem perfectly natural rather than unsettling. Truthfully, this is exactly the way I should be feeling--not just about this semester of college though. I should be feeling this same inability to settle in when it comes to the whole of my existence on this earth.

This is just my temporary home. I was created for so much more than this. With this in mind, it really would be a tragedy to be satisfied with anything less than Christ. It would be a tragedy to settle for earth. I am not fully happy here because I am not home here. I am not fully happy here because I am not suppposed to be fully happy here. Greater and glorious things that will fulfill my heart's desires await me.

Of course on earth, I'll get to experience some joy: I feel a portion of God's goodness in the warmth of His sunshine. I see a sliver of his glory in the majesty of his creation. I catch a glimpse of His love in time I spend with sweet friends. And I taste a bit of His grace each time I sinfully stumble and He patiently draws me close again.

But while I'm here, the joy I experience can never measure up to the glory of what awaits me as a redeemed child of Christ. It is only right for me to feel this sense of transience that has overwhelmed these past two weeks for me, because as 1 Peter 2:11 explains, we are "like foreigners and strangers in this world." I'm only passing through this life on my way to something greater: unbroken communion with and worship of my savior and king.

Tonight I've come to realize that I'm homesick. Not homesick for Birmingham where I was born and raised, but homesick for my real home--where I'll be there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, and I'll have no less days to sing God's praise, than when I first begun. It's going to be wonderful, and tonight I'm so excited that I can't stop smiling.

To Brave the Storm

Water:

I swim in it.
I drink it.
I splash through puddles in it.
I shower with it.
I kayak on it.
I play in it.
I dive under it.
I wash my hair with it.
I was baptized with it.
I dance in the rain in it.
But Jesus walked on it.

In all the ways that I'll experience water, I'll never experience it the way that Jesus did in Matthew 14. I'll never walk on it. And I'd wager that you'll never walk on it either. Only God incarnate holds such authority over the physical force of the substance of water that He can command it to hold solid beneath His holy feet and bear his weight as He walks across its surface.

For as long as I can remember, I've been absolutely captivated by the story of Jesus walking on water. In my mind there is something undeniably glorious about the utter control that Jesus exhibits over such a familiar force in that story.

Jesus's ability to walk on water is an undeniable demonstration of his divinity, but what He does with this ability is, to me, the most enchanting part of the story. Christ walks on water to go to His disciples who are in a boat that has been swept away from Jesus, "beaten by the waves" and losing a battle to strong "winds [that were] against them." He walks on water to His disciples who are unable to come to Him. I personally find great comfort in knowing that Christ went to his disciples while they were still at the mercy of the powers of the storm.

Too often in my own life, I feel the inexplicable need to pull my life together before I invite Jesus into the details. As a perfectionist I feel compelled to clean house and get everything in order before I feel justified in approaching the throne of grace. In the midst of life's storms, I feel the need to prove my worth, to take control and weather the storm, to make it back to shore before I can seek Jesus's hand. I know this is non-sensical, that my works will never earn me grace, but this perfectionist-bent is hardwired into my personality. And so, I find great comfort and encouragement in stories like this one, where Jesus, in his glorious godliness walks on water to meet his disciples who are caught at sea in the midst of the storm. He meets them where they are, not because of the immense skill they have demonstrated in dealing with the situation, or in proving themselves worthy. No, Christ goes to His disciples when they are in need of him simply because he loves them.

When he arrives at their boat, Jesus calms the fears of the disciples saying, "Take heart; It is I. Do not be afraid." The simple fact of his presence is enough to make everything okay. For there is no need to fear the storm when you have the king of the universe by your side. With Christ, not only is it safe to weather the crashing waves and howling winds from inside the boat, with Christ, we are equipped to fearlessly brave the storm (whatever it may be) face on.

I am Redeemed, I am Called, I am Christ's.

Some of you may have noticed that it's been a really long time since I last blogged. It wasn't until just now...now that I am sitting back down to write again that I had realized how important writing like this has been for me. In taking the time to write about the Majesty of my God, the failings of my flesh, and the beauty of the grace that I am so undeserving of, I am reminded of the simple yet intricate glory of the Gospel.

I am far too easily distracted from what is truly important. This has always been the case in my life--I think it's just one of the ways that inherent sin manifests itself in my life. My struggle with keeping my priorities straight has really been exacerbated by being a freshman in college. Too often I lose sight of Christ's glorious preeminence in all things.

It's easy to feel that the test in my math class is a vital measure of my competence, that the paper I'm writing for my English class determines my worth, and that the exams looming at the end of next week will decide my future. It's easy to feel academic pressures and make time for homework by shortchanging my time with Jesus. But when I make poor decisions like that I am forsaking the one portion of my life that is steady, dependable, live-giving, and eternal for something of marginal temporary worth. Ultimately my achievements and accomplishments are relegated to positions of stumbling blocks unless Christ is the central aim for my actions. Only when I am pursuing Him, glorifying Him is my life significant.

I've heard it said that even as Christians in a steady walk with Christ that we need to preach the basic premise of the Gospel to ourselves everyday. In my life I have found this to be an absolutely integrally important truth, for I am far too prone to allow the glory of the Gospel to pass me by. I was once dead to my sins, but I am now redeemed and given glorious life through the blood of Christ. It is He who holds me, renews me, provides for me, protects me, and defines me. Christ is my everything; without Him I am nothing.

So as I embark on my first set of college finals, I'll pursue academic excellenece in the name of Christ, but I will also aim to seek His face in all that I do. I'll abide in Him through prayer, through scripture, and through recognition of the beauty of a Nashville sunset or enjoyment of the simple, beautiful fact that He is with me always. I am reminded of Isaiah 43:1 "I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, you are Mine." I can find peace, assurance, and affirmation in knowledge of the most basic, beautiful aspects of the Gospel: I am redeemed, I am called, I am Christ's.

Entering the Throne Room.

I am blessed so far beyond what I deserve. So very, very far beyond what I deserve. I've been given dear friends and family who have taught me to smile and love and laugh. I've been blessed to attend a phenomenal school where my teachers have taught me to read and think and dream and wonder. And I'm loved more than I'll ever be able to fathom, Christ died to redeem me and my great God loves me dearly and answers prayer.

He answers prayer. Wow. That simple fact blows my mind. The LORD of all creation not only loves me, He's concerned enough with me on a moment-to-moment basis to listen to my cries to heaven and answer those prayers. I hold such enormous power in my ability to enter the Throne Room and beseech the God of the universe. And we're promised that God has the power to do far beyond all that we think to ask or imagine.

Recently God's been teaching me that I don't pray as I ought to. And I don't stop to pray anywhere near as often as I should either. If I really, really believed in my heart(not just in my head) that prayer is truly as powerful as it is, I don't think I'd ever have trouble finding time to stop and pray...I'd struggle with getting off my knees and going about my work for the rest of the day.

In this past week, I've also been really convicted that I rarely pray specifically. It's so much easier to pray in generalizations: "God bless this day, bless all the people in the world"...those prayers sound pretty, but my motivation for praying in generalizations is shameful. I'm fearful and I doubt God's ability to answer prayer. Sometimes it feels safer to not pray in specifics, so I don't. But when I allow fear that God won't answer prayer to keep me from praying, I build up a wall that separates me from Him. Ultimately, though, what is it that I could possibly have to fear?

Not only is my God powerful enough to hear my prayers and answer them, He is loving enough to hold my best interest at heart. Praying specifically allows me to take time each day to fully place my trust in Him, to make myself vulnerable and acknowledge my reliance on God. And in waiting to hear his answer, I grow closer to Him. So I'll celebrate the power of prayer with great thanksgiving, for my God listens to my prayers and is powerful to answer them.

Glory to be Revealed.

I like for everything in life to be straight-forward and definitive. I get irritated when things are ambiguous rather than simple as I think they ought to be. I want things to be easily discernible, black and white--not a fuzzy tint of gray.

But sometimes inexplicable duality exists. And sometimes its beautiful. Like the times when the sun is shining, but rain pours forth from the clouds anyway. I wouldn't trade those moments of meteorological indecision for anything, because it's when the sun shines and the rain falls simultaneously that we witness the beauty of a rainbow.

Today has been anything but the straight-forward and definitive that I so love. It's been full of things bigger than I know how to handle. Full of emotions that don't seem to mix. Today was burdened by the sadness of loss and death, but it was also overflowing with the promise of eternal life in Jesus.

Happinesss and sadness are such polar opposites that it hardly seems possible for both to occupy our minds at one time. But sometimes...just sometimes they entertwine. In this sweet duality, I found a perfect picture of Jesus today.

Sadly, our life is fleeting and ephemeral. None of us is long of this world, but the things of this world will soon pass. A dear friend once told reminded me that we are eternal beings...we won't last forever in this life, but our souls were created to exist into eternity. She mused that perhaps this eternality of our nature is what makes death so painful. Death ultimately has no power over us, for Christ has conquered. As 1 Corinthians 15:55 so boldly declares, "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” Death is unable to rob us of our life, but because we are created to exist eternally, death brings an unnatural and painful separation.

But the sadness brought by death's separation never comes alone. It is always accompanied by the joy and peace of Christ. We can know that our savior has conquered, that eternity awaits. In this duality of joy and sadness, the Gospel is the most evident. And for those of us who have placed our lives in Christ, we can find hope in the darkest of times, for as Paul wrote in Romans 8:18 "
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us."

Though sadness and joy may mingle in this life, no suffering we face on earth is worth comparing to the Glory that is to be revealed to us. Therefore, let us walk with Jesus and live with our eyes fixed on eternity.

If I Don't Go Tell The World.

"There are no 4 year old atheists."

I've been going through The Truth Project, an in depth study of a Biblical worldview with my Bible study. The segment that we watched on Saturday night pertained to philosophy and ethics. It focused particularly on our awareness of our relational God, and the sad reality that many around us do not acknowledge His existence, (or if they do believe He exists, they refuse to recognize his relevance).

This topic hit particularly close to home for be because so many people that I'm close to deny the magnificence of God's simply being God. I am surrounded by hopelessness and the belief that this life is all there is, that we live and die and simply cease to be. Surrounded by the belief that life has no purpose, that we're simply products of evolutionary development with no greater calling and no definitive ethical code to bind our actions.

This hopelessness breaks my heart. Our souls are empty and long for connection to something deeper than ourselves.When God doesn't fill that void in our hearts we seek to find our fulfillment in other ways. I know. I've tried it. And it doesn't work.

C.S. Lewis once brilliantly explained this dilemma of humanity's search for joy and fulfillment outside of God in his book Mere Christianity. Lewis wrote, "God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing."

As I look around me, I see broken hearts seeking fulfillment while denying the existance of God, whose awesome power, indescribable glory, and unfailing love are the only things big enough to fill the void in our human hearts. They turn to alcohol, parties, rebellion, lawbreaking, drugs, and unhealthy relationships instead, and I see their unbelief destroy them. I want so badly to tell this broken world "There is a God, and He loves you. Jesus died for you. Eternity is for you."

But they won't listen. They cling to supposed "freedom" from the authority of God, and nothing I say has the power to soften hardened hearts. Thank goodness responsibility for salvation doesn't lie in my hands. That's all up to Jesus,and when He moves decisively, the world will finally have their blind eyes opened to the joy of Freedom in Jesus.

Until then, I'll simply tell of the beauty of life with my Savior. Perhaps somehow...someway, my life will turn the eyes of those around me to Jesus. I once heard it explained that "There are no 4 year old atheists" because we are born with an innate sense of our connection to our Creator and our inevitable need for a Savior. Maybe all this world needs is a little reminder of child-like wonder and our innocent realization of the greatness of God. So I'll go tell the world. How selfish am I if I don't go tell the world?