Remembered

I’m a nostalgic kind of person. Quiet drives, time alone at home, and even daily chores give me a lot of time to reminisce and call memories up. It’s part of who I am and I can’t seem to help it. I’m good at long-term memory and bit and pieces of my life so far come and keep me company often.

The only real bad thing about it is that I sometimes wonder if I’m the only one. Would the 7th grade friends I remember and fondly miss even recognize my name? Did the nerd camp friend who promised to never forget me keep his end of the deal? (Yes, I went to something I like to call “nerd camp” when I was a kid!) Does that song remind my 9th grade friends of the good times we had too? Or is it just me? Am I the only one who remembers?

I may be inexplicably afraid of large bodies of water, big animals, and those tall electricity towers that line up like giants along highways. But my biggest fear by far is forgetting and being forgotten. That’s why I’d sometimes rather not contact old friends, try to add them on Facebook, or in any way let them back into my life. As horrible as that may sound, I’d just rather not know if they don’t remember the great times I remember.

It may a silly fear, since all the people I’ve gotten back in touch with do remember me and some have even sought me out. But I’m glad that even my unreasonable fear isn’t too unreasonable for God; he assures me and gives me comfort through his word.

In Deuteronomy 31, when Israel is about to finally enter the land God had promised them, when Moses their leader was stepping down after 40 years, when they could no longer ignore the reality of war and conquest God assured them he would not leave them.

In Joshua 5 when Joshua is stepping into Moses’ shoes and getting ready to try to fill them and lead the people into the battles that awaited them in the Promise Land God told him he’d never leave him.

In 1 Chronicles 28 when Solomon is made king of Israel and receives from his father the overwhelming instructions and specifications on how to build the temple, God, through David, promises to not leave him.

Through these challenges, God promised his chosen people he’d never leave them. Because I was chosen by God (Ephesians 1:3-6) I know he’ll never leave me. If that weren’t enough, in John 14:16 Jesus promises the Holy Spirit, God, will be with believers forever.

I know my Father in heaven will never forget me. He’ll always be with me. And even if everyone else I’ve ever encountered does, as long as he remembers me I know I’ll be just fine.

Coveting

Reading through the Ten Commandments is always at least a bit difficult for me. No matter how well I think I’ve been doing, some sin always comes to light when I really sit down and measure myself against God’s perfect standard. It never fails. I feel conviction.

One commandment in particular never had that effect on me, though. I could stroll right past it, lightheartedly checking it off my list of things I had taken care of. Reading “You shall not covet…” actually made me feel a little better about myself. I was happy with the car and house God had given me, couldn’t complain about clothes or shoes, enjoyed the company of great people in my life, and was content to wait for the think I needed but didn’t yet have. I sincerely thought coveting just wasn’t my struggle.

What I thought changed as I checked blogs off my daily reading list last week. First, I read an amazing description of the beginning of a round-the-world trip: white water rafting in an African river, petting tame lions, riding on elephants’ backs, watching the sun set behind majestic giraffes. Why couldn’t I be the one embarking on such a majestic adventure?

Then came another blog that talked about a couple’s love of traveling. Ever since their wedding day they’ve been packing up and going whenever they may feel like going. Long weekend drives are common and they have a long list of favorite places in several states. Why couldn’t Richie and I have that kind of freedom?

Last, I stopped at a blog written by a guy designing his way through the book of Psalms. His work is amazing. It is inspiring both spiritually and artistically. Why didn’t I have that creativity and skill?

By the end of my blog reading, I was feeling pretty horrible about myself. It wasn’t any of the bloggers’ fault – they’re all great and share awesome things with their readers. I admire all of them. I just felt unsatisfied with my own life when I compared it to theirs.

It’s hard to admit, but I wasn’t glad for the blessings they get to enjoy and I wasn’t thankful for how wonderful my life really is. All I could feel was envy and anger at not having the same exact blessings exactly now. 

I don’t think it could be any clearer. Even though I don’t covet the “usual” material things, that doesn’t mean I don’t covet at all. It took a horrible mood and the ugliness of real envy to make me understand that coveting isn’t just about stuff. We can covet whole lifestyles, beauty, success, relationships. In that case, I covet. A lot.

Do you have a commandment you tend to skip over? One you feel you don’t really struggle with? I thought I didn’t need to work on not coveting, but that was only because I hadn’t fully understood what coveting really covers. Maybe the commandments we think we can handle should get a closer look.

PS. When I’m thinking clearly, I really wouldn’t trade my life for anyone else’s. I may wish I could do a lot more things, but if I had to give up what I have now I’d rather not.

Prayer

If there’s one thing I suck at (besides posting blog entries really late) it’s praying.

I understand the need to pray (Romans 12:12), the command to pray (Luke 18:1), the privilege (Romans 5:1-2) and benefits of prayer (James 5:13-18), and all the theological reasons why I should pray but I can’t seem to actually get myself to do it.

When I first converted, I thought prayer would get easier as I grew spiritually. I thought it would somehow someday come naturally. Six years later, it doesn’t. At all.

For a while, I got into the habit of saying short prayers throughout my day. “Thank you, God, for this amazing view,” as I drive westward at sunset. “Lord, please help me,” before taking a difficult test.

And that kept me satisfied for a while, but eventually I yearned for more. It’s funny how that yearning has worked in my life, though. Instead of leading me to deeper longer prayer times, the dissatisfaction I’ve felt led me cut even the tiny amount of prayer time I already had.

We’ve been slowly reading through RC Sproul’s Five Things Every Christian Needs to Grow with our discipleship kids. The second chapter is about prayer, and boy was it helpful.

Sproul explains the importance of prayer in the first part of the chapter and then moves on to practical advise he himself learned from a booklet by Martin Luther. The two things that stood out the most to me were his encouraging to set time apart specially for prayer and to pray through Scripture.

Praying from Scripture and through Scripture are two very different things, he said. The first just involves reciting verses and repeating parts of the Bible. The second means taking a portion of Scripture and using it as a guide to your prayer. This is how Jesus intended for us to use the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6:9-13.

So instead of running through a recitation of Jesus’ sample prayer, you stop wherever you need to elaborate in your own words. As Sproul puts it, “to pray through the Lord’s Prayer is to focus attention on each of the petitions for a time.”

Last night, I set my alarm to go off at 4:30 in the morning; a whole hour earlier than usual. Granted, I didn’t actually get out of bed until 5:15, but I had some time for prayer before getting ready for school. I took me a few minutes to figure out the most comfortable prayer spot is actually in my closet, but I finally got to pray.

5:15 was the perfect time. The whole house was quiet. There were no distractions but my own wandering mind (which I have at least some control of). It was great. Both tips worked. I got to spend more time in direct communion, speaking to my God, than I had in months.

I’ve heard a lot of people claim their day goes better when it starts in prayer. Others have said it changes their morning from dreadful to cheerful. I don’t have any claims like that, but I will say the satisfaction of being able to praise God, to obey his command to pray, and to finally feel close to him again is far better than any other benefit I could have gained. I can’t wait for my alarm to go off again tomorrow at 4:30 am.

Lasting Beauty

A while ago, I wrote a post about beauty. In it, I said that we should care about our appearance without sliding into vanity and I still believe that. As Christian ladies, we should seek a healthy balance between not caring how we look and caring too much.

A week ago, though, a sister helped me realize I’d forgotten about something more important than decent clothing and hair. As we talked over dinner, it grew more and more obvious: even though she looked externally beautiful, her appearance was not the spring of her beauty. 

This is a sister I’ve come to greatly admire in the short while I’ve known her. She spends time evangelizing every week, is there for her husband as he steps into a new pastoral role, works on learning Spanish to better serve the women in her church, and volunteers as a church secretary daily. Her beauty came from inside, manifested in the things she does.

Maybe it’s the cliches that now surround it or the sheer corniness of how it sounds, but I’ve neglected to write about this inner beauty. I have no trouble remembering 1 Timothy 2:9. But the next verse, the one that says what our adornment should be, I have no trouble forgetting.

God, through Paul in his letter to Timothy, tells us that as godly women we should dress with modesty, showing self-control. This is, of course, important and good to remember, but the instructions don’t end there.

In 1 Timothy 2:10, we’re further instructed on how to adorn ourselves. Instead of using expensive, immodest, gaudy clothing we’re to rely on good works to bring out our beauty. And really, what’s truly more beautiful? The latest low-cut embellished Armani tank top or a heart after God’s own expressed outwardly through works?

Our salvation is not attained by works, but works should adorn all believers. Our character, work ethic, compassion, and charity should shine brightly as a testament to the salvation God granted us.

I sometimes tend to focus on my appearance and neglect the true source of beauty: a heart changed by the God who died on a cross so I could be saved and made new. That’s when I have to let God remind me that external beauty is fleeting but the inner beauty that he gives believers will last all eternity.

Growth

Among the songs my pastor chooses often for worship, one in particular is bittersweet. Singing together as a congregation, the song leads us to ask God to renew us, confessing that everything we are needs to be conformed more unto his image. That’s the sweet part; it’s a beautiful song. The bitter part comes when I remember how I sang it in the past.

At one embarrassing point, I thought I had arrived. I thought I was “there”. I seriously didn’t think I could get any better or need any improvement. Surprisingly, I wasn’t cocky or arrogant about it. This attitude somehow sprung from sincere gratitude toward God for all the ways in which he had dramatically changed my life.

I was 17 and I had gone through severe depressions, deep involvement in the SoCal partying punk rock scene, drug use, an abusive relationship, and serious family problems. My life had gone from that darkness to the light of Christ and I was extremely thankful.

When I sang that song which was supposed to lead me to ask God to keep working in me, what came to mind instead was, “Thank you, Lord, because you’ve changed me so much already, I don’t need any more.” I honestly just couldn’t fathom how things could get any better than they already were.

By God’s grace, I realized my attitude was completely wrong. I learned we never fully arrive at the Biblical ideal, at least not until what Paul calls “the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6). I realized that when Jesus said in Matthew 5:48, “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” he was referring to a life-long struggle to follow the lifestyle Scripture set out for us more and more closely.

There is never a point in a Christian’s life when we can say we’re completely sanctified, done growing, done learning. The work God began in us on the moment we converted does not end until after death. While we’re here, we have to keep striving to grow in him, to be more like him.

Ministry

I used to think that most status updates and Twitter feeds were pretty insignificant. Who cares, after all, if on Friday at 5:02 you were stuck in traffic but were looking forward to the weekend?

A few weeks ago, though, I thought I’d scroll through my youth group’s status updates even if it meant swimming through a deep sea of endless “I love you”s between a boyfriend and girlfriend and reports on who’s house so-and-so were headed to.

It ended up being more difficult than I could have imagined. The annoyingly excessive PDA ended up fading into the background while the emotions, problems, and misplaced hope jumped off the screen. I hadn’t expected that.

One of my kids posted about feeling depressed several times. Another about plans to go out to a wild party. Still another constantly exposed an apparent idolatry of her boyfriend. Where had I been for all this? And why was MySpace the one to clue me in?

The truth is, the blame rests solely on me. For whatever reason, I stopped talking to my kids, stopped seeking them after class, even stopped caring when I knew they needed help. I became completely apathetic toward them. No wonder they didn’t take me up on invitations to talk whenever they needed to. No wonder I never got phone calls when something important happened.

I though I was fulfilling my responsibilities as their teacher simply by having a new class installment ready each week. I stopped caring about their specific needs for guidance and put an end to my availability for more personal teaching.

I let my ministry to 11-13 year old kids focus on just the mechanical part: investing hours in preparing class, showing up to church, giving class. I paid no attention to the actual people I was trying to reach.

Ministry shouldn’t be mechanical. Ministry shouldn’t ignore the people being ministered. I learned that lesson and now I’m trying to figure out how to better help the kids understand the gospel and all things necessary for their salvation. I think a big part of it will be spending time with them individually, explaining how Biblical principles apply even to them and the problems they face. I hope that after a while of helping them in that way, things will get better.

Evangelism

Do you evangelize? Witness? Preach the gospel? Obey the Great Commission (Mar 16:15)? I don't. I have on occasion, but I don't do so regularly at all. I can happily announce that I'm a Christian, but announcing the message that makes me so is a different story.

I'd been ok with this for a long time. I'd watched Ray Comfort rightly preach the gospel several times and felt conviction and a desire to do the same. I bought tracts, passed some out, encouraged the youth group to "get out there" and share their faith, and even helped an established evangelism team one night. The thing is, the conviction and desire always faded away and I ended up back where I had started: discouraged, apathetic, and intimidated.

After going through the process a few times, I'd gotten tired and settled on apathetic mode. Concern for everyone else's eternity was near the bottom of my list. That's probably why I was more excited about the drive out to California than the actual reason behind the drive. I'd made up hundreds of excuses for not evangelizing and they all seemed legitimate enough. "I need to brush up on some apologetics first," "Paul did take years to prepare before he did anything."

As the seven of us headed out in one very large church van, Sarah leaned over and told me she was already very excited. "I'm also a little scared, though. I mean, Ray Comfort is so direct," she said. She knew what was ahead of her. She knew she would feel conviction, but she was ready for, even looking forward to, it. I, unfortunately, was not. I honestly didn't think anything would happen. I'd heard it all before, so what could possibly change?

We'd been settled into our seats for some time and one of the guys had just finished his message. Videos of evangelism encounters were playing as people shuffled in their seats. One particularly caught my attention.

The camera focused on Ray was speaking to a woman near a fancy fountain. "Have you ever told a lie?" he asked. She answered with a simple "yes." "Have you ever looked at another person with lust?" He continued until the look on her face showed she realized how sinful she actually was. Before saying good bye and walking away, he asked her if she had ever heard what he told her about Christ. "No, never," she replied.

Never? Hasn't everyone in America heard the gospel? Doesn't everyone know at least vaguely about what Jesus did and accomplished on the cross? I don't know why I hadn't realized it before. Hardly anyone has heard the gospel. I hadn't heard it before I converted. I'd been told that Jesus loves me. I'd been told he had a plan for my life. Never had I heard that he died on the cross so that if I believe and repent, my sins will be forgiven. Never.

The conference I attended achieved much more than I thought it could. It showed me, once and for all, that there are countless souls who have never ever heard the good news. I cried. I cried not only because I thoughts of dying hospital patients who never heard of the wonderful sacrifice Jesus made flooded my mind, but also because I feared that the urgency I felt at the moment would fade away again.

This time, I'm determined to stay on fire. I know I have to seek the lost and tell them of the salvation that has been revealed to me. I have no more excuses. They were all destroyed during a later message when somebody said something about not needing to know anything but the gospel to go out to preach it. They were destroyed when somebody explained how to start a conversation. They were destroyed when the great men of Living Waters made evangelism seem easy.

So, my dear readers, you have become my accountability group. Next week will mark the beginning of a new post category: Testimony Thursday. I'll make time each week to head out and do some street evangelism and report back any interesting stories on Thursdays. Please pray for me!

Change in Northern California

Ever experience something so monumental, you can't seem to process it? Has it ever happened that after such a monumental event, more monumental little things keep happening until you can't process anything at all? That's how I feel right now and I have no idea how to write this blog post.

I guess I should start by explaining why I was in Northern California this weekend. My husband, a select group of our youth group, plus a close friend who is pretty much responsible for the whole trip, and I traveled 11 hours to San Jose solely to attend the Transformed Conference put on by Living Waters.

Confession: I was more excited about traveling some place new and having a slightly better chance than usual of meeting Kirk Cameron. I was more excited about hanging out with Sarah, one of my best friends, and going thrift shopping* with her. I was more excited about taking photos and enjoying the cool breeze and being close to the Golden Gate bridge and exploring. I was even more excited about my outfits. This is all painful to confess.

Even when we arrived at the venue and took our seats, I was more excited about everything but the word of God. I hadn't really traveled 11 hours to hear brilliant men of God preach and learn from them. I had traveled for the sake of traveling.

All I'll say for now is that by the end of the first session, my whole outlook had changed. I felt conviction and by God's grace and strength was able to humble myself and change on the spot pretty quickly. Somehow, my typically stubborn pride let go easily enough and I was able to submit to God as I should have from the beginning. I know he's the one who deserves all the honor and glory for it because every time I've tried to overcome my pride alone, I've failed horribly.

From that moment until this one, God's been teaching me through his word preached by faithful men like I hadn't experienced in some time. I'd like to share it all with you, but its so much and covers so many topics that we'll have to spread it out over the next few weeks. The upcoming journal entries will be on evangelism, modesty, decisions, and ministry. I hope you'll come back and stick around so I can share all this with you.

*Our little thrifting excursion ended up making the whole group late to the conference and I still feel terrible about it. Sorry, guys. Sarah and I will find a way to make it up to you.

Jesus and the Samaritan Woman

The story of the Samaritan woman in John chapter 4 really stood out to me last week. It jumped from the pages, meandered through my thoughts, convicted me, called me to change.

People tend to think I'm shy. The truth is, I don't really feel comfortable starting conversations or even leading conversations because I'm always afraid of being pushy. I seem to always think that people are not interested in what I say or don't want to talk to me; I don't talk much so they're not forced to talk to me. Its really just an excuse and I'm being over-protective of myself.

In John 4, Jesus is in the middle of a long walk from Judea to Galilee. He stops in Samaria despite the differences (read: hate) between Jews and Samaritans. Hundreds of years prior to the time of Jesus, the Jewish inhabitants of Samaria began to intermarry with the Gentiles that had been sent there when Israel was exiled. Contact with Gentiles meant ceremonial impurity. Contact with the impure meant impurity too. So, since the Samaritans were constantly impure, according to Jewish standards, any Jew who wanted to remain pure could not have contact with them.

Jesus arrives in Samaria at around noon, sends his disciples out to buy food, and takes a seat by a deep well. A woman enters the scene, planning to draw water while no one else is around. She visits the well during the hottest time of the day when she knows she won't run into anyone. You see, she's not just another ceremonially unclean Samaritan; she's also unclean because of her obvious sin: she's had five husbands and now lives in adultery with a sixth man. Whether she was ridiculed or just felt shame for her reputation is not known, but its no coincidence that she avoids people.

What would I have done if I'd been the one sitting by that well? Honestly, I probably would have smiled at her and returned to staring at the rocks by my feet. I would have just sat there in silence, waiting for her to either speak to me or leaver after drawing her water.

Jesus took a different approach. He spoke to her first. It was simple, really: "Give me a drink." He started the conversation, knowing who she was, knowing the challenges that would come in their conversation, knowing how sassy she would be in some of her replies. He spoke to her instead of waiting for her to approach him.

The funny thing is, she later takes the initiative too. When she realizes who it is she's speaking to, she runs into the village full of the people she'd been avoiding to tell them the good news. She had found the Messiah, the Savior of the world! Did her shame matter any more?

So why should my pride and possible popularity matter? I know there are people around me like the woman by the well, people who are ready to embrace Christ when they hear about his forgiveness because they've been prepared by the Spirit. What do I have to be afraid of if there are some who are ready to believe? I also know I am the woman by the well, saved by grace from gross sin by a loving God who chose to reveal himself to me. I found the Messiah and nothing else should matter.

Joy and Idolatry

Call me a nerd, but I've always loved school. After a four-year break from studying and homework, I enrolled in a private art school last December. Butterflies - no, leaping kangaroos- filled my stomach for the next month and half I was forced to wait before classes started.

I'd felt unfulfilled,bored, and tired for so long. Because my work days were unchallenging and uninteresting, I spent my evenings at home feeling miserable and frustrated. I expected my first day back in school to change all those things, to cancel out the grey I perceived in my life. With school in sight, I had hope in sight.

My first quarter back in school is more than halfway done. Final projects are being assigned and the last pages of textbooks are being read. Now that the initial excitement and enthusiasm of school has been replaced by reality, I've been able to think more carefully about this whole hope thing.

I still love going to school and I enjoy all of my classes. I have gotten some of the artistic release I'd been needing and that my admissions officer promised. Its been a wonderful experience so far. I still love school and there's probably no changing that.

On my way home after class one night, I began to wonder, "What comes after this?" I have a good 3.75 years to go before I finish school, but if this is what's filling me now, what's going to fill me when its over? I can't afford to pay for school that lasts for the rest of life. And what would be the point of perpetual education, anyway?

Thinking that made me realize the horrible sin I'd falling into. In such a short time, I had turned something good into something abominable by letting it take the place that rightfully belongs to God. I'd turned education into an idol.

There is obviously nothing wrong with seeking higher education, new skills, or artistic release but I had put my hope for joy in those things instead of trusting God to give me the joy I so badly craved. Looking at it now, its silliness is so visible.

Can anything be more obvious to a Christian than the fact that God is the only source, the only provider of infinite, eternal, complete joy? Nothing else will fill that desire for joy like God can. Nothing else will give the kind of joy that will last beyond time. Trusting in anything else is idolatry.

Nostalgia

I think I am by nature a nostalgic person. Spending hours looking at old photos is not a waste of time, even if it means digging a heavy 5-gallon plastic box out from my mom's closet. I don't mind reading my old diaries, even with their terrible spelling and embarrassing immaturity. My 8th grade year book, along with the tons of sentimental junk I decided to keep forever when I was 13, is still neatly tucked away in a little box waiting for the day when I can show my memorabilia off to someone who will treasure it as much as I do. I love remembering the past, even the painfully dark times, and one my worst fears has always been forgetting. 

The thing about nostalgia, though, is that I can't let it take over my every thought. There are times when visiting an old friend's Facebook profile, finding an old letter from a long-time pen pal, or stumbling upon an old family photo throws me into a chasm of memories of times I can't revisit no matter how much I wish I could.

And that's just the trouble: I end up wishing I could go back to that summer riding my bike around the neighborhood taking in the deep lavender of the flowering trees. I end up wishing I could experience the bond I felt with the friends I made so easily at camp, at least just for another day. I end up wishing I could go back to the time of wonder and nervousness and sweaty palms as Richie and began to date. I end up wishing for so much that I can never have and instead of enjoying the memories and the fact that I have them, I idolize them.

I have a lot of memories to be thankful to God for, but instead of thanking him for the wonderful times he's allowed me to live, I turn what he gave me into a desire stronger than my desire for him.

I found my idol. I know I have to dethrone it and let God take his rightful place again.

Gloria

The most engaging conversations I have ever had have been with older people. I don't mean just a few years older or even a couple of decades older -  I mean they were born in the 30's or 40's and probably used to wear hats whenever they stepped outside. Maybe its because my grandparents have always lived far away or because since I was small I wished I could crawl into the world of the historic novels I read, but hearing the elderly speak about the past is captivating.

This past Sunday, having nothing to do but wait before service started, I struck up a conversation with Gloria. Her hair is white as snow, she uses a cane to walk, and her back is hunched over. When she shares her poetry, written only for God, her blue eyes shine and she stands a little bit taller.

She told me about growing up in New York, a city I've always wanted to visit, and getting lost driving in Las Vegas. She would reach out to hold my hand when she got excited about what she had to say and smiled with every word. Although she asked for my name three times during our conversation, I really enjoyed her company.

I hope I'm like her when my hair turns white: full of life, loving God, and still glorifying his name in wonderful creative ways.

Proverbs 20:29 says that the glory of old men is their grey hair. While many, including my husband, complain about greying hair (Richie only has about 5), the Bible shows it as a sing of wisdom and being fit to give advise. The elderly members of the church are worthy of respect and honor and I hope to give more of my time to sit with them and let them talk.

PS. I can't help but wish I had taken a photo of her to share.

The Greatest Man

Although my husband and I officially moved into our house about six months ago, everything is still mostly a mess. Our office in particular looks like it just held a vicious match between two WWF wrestlers, which isn't too far from the truth since my husband and brother wrestle in there every weekend.

I was in said office trying to write a paper in under an hour when I got side tracked (of course) looking at the knick knacks we have sprawled out all over the desk. Among those things I found a program a few years old saved from a young youth pastor's funeral. He was a 22-year-old newlywed when he died; his church and his youth group had a hard time coping with the loss. As I looked at the smiling photo on the cover, something struck me as strange: right under the young man's joyful portrait was written, "The Greatest Man to Ever Live."

I think we have the tendency to focus on a person's good qualities after they die, and there's nothing wrong with that. Its not wrong to remember the good times spent and honor the person's life and great things they did, specially if it was a life lived for the glory of God.

Reading John 1:51 today made me think of something, though: why does Jesus call himself the Son of Man? "Son of God" is complex, but still relatively easy to understand. What's with the "Son of Man" title?

The gist of it is that he is the greatest man to ever live. There has never been and never will be a greater man than Christ. He is the only one who could live a life perfect before the eyes of God, the only one who never sinned and never failed, the only one who could provide salvation from sin and its eternal punishment. He is God in the flesh, manifested in a human body without giving up his godhood. Who could ever be greater than him?

We have to be careful to always keep our focus on Christ. No matter how wonderful a person is or was, they are no comparison to Jesus. I love my husband with all my heart and think I'm the luckiest girl for being his wife, but I know he can't compete with Jesus in the greatness department. I have to remember that about myself too. I'm in no way even close to being as great as my Savior, no matter what good things I do. Only he can claim to be the best person to ever lay foot on this planet.

Persecution

Last Sunday, a man sat alone as the congregation lined up to support the latest fundraiser. He looked tired and out of place. My husband approached him and, despite language difficulties, found out he's a refugee from Eritrea. According to Persecution.com, Eritrea is a communist country on the east coast of Africa where Christians are arrested and tortured. I've read stories about large groups of Eritrean brothers and sisters being locked into metal shipping containers where they had to endure unimaginable living conditions in oppressive heat. Knowing that the person who sat a few feet away from me knew what persecution is like served as a reality check.

I went back to school this quarter and am closing my third week. Something I've known for a while is that colleges and universities and art academies tend to not be enthusiastically tolerant of true followers of Christ. So far, this seems to be true of my school. No one has said anything regarding my faith yet, but the environment was put into clear focus when most of the class nodded in agreement after my political science instructor said the only people who oppose gay marriage are the ones who "think its a sin and all that crazy stuff."

Wouldn't we all love to say that our commitment to Christ can make it through anything? We rejoice in the story of Peter's restoration but don't want to relate to his denial of the Savior. We shake our heads at his naive determination," Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!" and sigh when in Matthew 26:70 he does, indeed, deny Christ.

I've asked my youth group kids before if they think they would give in to the demands of a torturer asking them to deny their faith. Some make Peter-esque statements and others humbly stare at the floor. Isn't it funny that in a country where our freedom of speech guarantees our safety from physical harm, we're more afraid of speaking our faith than China's underground churches, North Korea's missionaries, and Eritrea's evangelists? I don't know if I could hold on while I'm being beaten to a pulp, starved, given electric shocks, and not allowed to sleep. I don't know because the miniscule things I have to endure at school already seem like so much. I don't know because I realized I don't even have the courage to walk to say that yes, the car with the huge Bible verse on the back window is my car. I don't have the courage to walk up to it after class, so instead I pretend I can't find my keys in front of a religion-neutral car. How shameful is it that thousands of men and women in Eritrea suffer physically for their faith in Christ but I can't suffer mere embarrassment?

I hope I get to see the man from Eritrea again. I need these reality checks more often. I need to see how saddening the weakness of my faith is so that I can pray more earnestly for God's help and seek him in his word more eagerly.

What Faith Isn't

Last Wednesday I dedicated a post

to sharing some of the things God taught me about faith in reading from Genesis to Esther. The time I spent reading this section seems to have had plenty of challenges and many opportunities to have faith as the Word of God describes it. My mom went through her first major surgery, a particularly nasty sin was revealed in a family member, another close family member professed faith in Christ and then quickly denied it, a friend retreated into seclusion for a few months, problems arose in my church, and my husband and I struggled with money issues.

It is very important to know what faith is, but it is also important to know what it isn't. I've heard many Christians say things about faith that I've learned are not correct when compared to Scripture. These incorrect beliefs about what faith is leads them to false hope and a misunderstanding of who they are and who God is. They walk on dangerous ground.

Some things faith is not:

1. Faith is not believing that you will get what you want. Many times, faith is preached as believing that whatever situation you're in  will end in a way you want it to. When I recently told my mom that I may have a medical problem, she told me to have faith. What she meant, of course, was that I should believe that I don't really have this medical problem and that when I go to the doctor he'll tell me I have nothing to worry about. A year ago I would have nodded and thanked her for the encouragement, but I could not do that in light of what God's Word has taught me.  In 2 Corinthians 11:23-28 Paul gives a summary of his many troubles, including beatings, shipwreck, hunger, danger of robbery, and sleeplessness. This convinces me that although we always want things to turn out happily, it is not always God's will to fix problems for us. It may be his will that I be diagnosed with this medical condition and making myself believe that he won't allow it won't change that.

2. Faith is not more powerful than God. It seems that during difficult times it becomes more attractive to listen to those who say things like, "Declare it in faith and it will happen!" People are told to speak positive words because positive words will make positive things happen. A more subtle form of this Word of Faith preaching is present when we give in to the idea that if we believe God will do whatever thing for us, he actually will. This doctrine makes human faith more powerful than the Almighty God. Ephesians 1:11 says that God works all things according to his own will and Psalm 115:3 says that he does whatever he likes. Our faith doesn't have much to do with what God chooses to do. He determines his actions by his own perfect will, not by our faulty and sometimes misguided faith.

3. Faith is not useless. So if having faith doesn't mean I believe God will end everything happily and if faith won't change God's will, what is it good for? Faith is good for salvation (Ephesians 2:8), it is good for righteousness (Romans 4:5), it is good for testimony (Hebrews 11:1-2), and it is good for peace with God (Romans 5:1). As I wrote in the previous post, faith is knowing that whatever God does is best. I know that even if everything goes badly this year, God will use that difficult to bring good into my life. He'll use it for his perfect wise purposes even if I can't understand what he's doing at the moment. Knowing that my God means good for me gives me more trust and peace in him than I would have if faith simply meant I could change his will. How could I trust in a God so easily swayed? Praise God for what faith actually is!

Lessons On Faith

Faith is one of the most present themes in the Bible. Noah had faith when he believed God about the coming flood (Genesis 6), Abraham offered up his son Isaac by faith (Hebrews 11:17), Joseph showed faith when he told his brothers that what they had meant for evil God had used for good (Genesis 50:20). These stories are all found in Genesis and there are many more before you reach the Revelation!

Even though faith is found on practically every page of Scripture, it can oftentimes feel like a vague concept--like a mere idea instead of an actual attainable goal. I found that although I knew I had faith, I couldn't really explain what faith is. Last year, I challenged myself to read from Genesis to Esther, no matter how long it took, and I had no idea God would use these ancient books to teach me so much about faith. These are the lessons I learned:

1. Faith is trusting God more than you trust yourself. Out of all the amazing stories in the historic books of the Bible (Gen-Est), the one that captivated me most was the story of Saul, found in 1 Samuel 9 and on. Saul was the first king of Israel and I was excited to see him doing well in the first few chapters of his story: he seemed humble in his new position, defended the people and drove off invaders. His good qualities quickly faded, though, and he very soon turned into a God-defying, conceited, jealous, power-hungry, violent man. I tried to understand how a young man who showed so much potential could turn into a mean old paranoid bitter man and saw that I am very similar to him. I didn't mind at all seeing a small similarity between Moses and me, but I hated to admit that I was even a little bit like Saul. Being reminded of myself in Saul's fits of anger (1 Samuel 18:10-11 - don't worry, I've never thrown a spear at anyone) really showed me that there is nothing in me that can save me. I can't trust myself to be good enough to please God because sooner or later my ugly side will show. I have an ugly side that only God can make beautiful. I am dirty with sin and only God can clean me. I have to trust that he will be the one to save me and that I can't save myself.

2. Faith is knowing that whatever God does is best. Esther is probably the book I've read the most and every time I've read it I have come away with more knowledge of God. This time around, God's power really stood out. Esther was a Jewish woman living in the capitol city of the empire that ruled over Israel at the time. Instead of returning to the land of her people, she had stayed in the land of her ancestors' captors. After what seemed like a set of random events, Esther was chosen queen just in time to stop a wicked plan to destroy all the Jews. The story shows a God who is powerful enough to arrange a mess of insignificant, hopeless, scary, out of control events into something great and magnificent. When God allows painful or confusing things to happen and we don't understand why, faith is knowing that he is in control and that whatever he allows is what will be best. Looking back at the events of my life, I know that even when I felt like everything was falling apart, God was working something good for me because he knew I would someday be his daughter. That gives me comfort as I face new challenges and new obstacles in life.

3. Faith is believing that God will do what he says he'll do. Todd Agnew said at a concert that the word "promise" is not found in the Hebrew Old Testament. I should have written the quote when it was fresh in my mind, but he said that the reason is that God doesn't need to promise because what he says just is. His words are true always, no matter what. In Exodus, the pharaoh that refuses to let the people of Israel go has a little trouble understanding this. From Exodus 7 to 13, Pharaoh is warned about calamities to come upon his kingdom if he doesn't release God's people. Over and over again he refuses to believe, even when its plainly clear that God is going to keep his word. Pharaoh doubts God's word before the first plague and before the last. Whether we believe what God says or not, his word is true and nothing can make it false. If I refuse to believe, my unbelief won's make God's word any less true. He says I have sinned against him and broken his laws (James 2:10). He teaches that sinners will receive his wrath (Romans 1:18) but that his Son died on a cross to save all who believe in him (John 3:16) and that if I turn away from sin and turn to him instead, I will be safe. I know it is true because God's word is true. Next week: What Faith Isn't.