The Ghosts of My Past

"Nothing changes what already happened. It will always have happened. You either let it break you down or you don't." - Charles Frazier, Nightwoods

Not many people run straight into the darkness of their past; into the pains, the failures, and the heartbreaks of it all. It's not typically a place we really care to go. No no, instead we try to ignore it, to stuff it down so deeply that we forget it. We cover it up, rushing along time in the hopes that one year, two years, or ten years from now it won't seem so significantly painful, so dark, so haunting. 

Honestly, that's all I could think of when I returned to the States nine months ago. After spending a year in Mexico as a missionary, I came back in survival mode, hoping that time would hurry itself along so I could look back in 10 years and it would all be just a distant memory. I couldn't stand to be so close to it all- how long would it take for my past to really feel like it was in the past? Would it ever? Was it even? 

My time in Mexico was both the darkest and ugliest year of my life. To say I crashed and burned would be putting it lightly, and I certainly wasn't alone in whatever car I was driving. Maybe a train wreck might be more accurate? To put it simply, I rebelled against God, and I hurt a lot of people in the process. I was selfish and deceitful. I did some of the most horrendous things I could imagine, all the while with the title "Christian missionary." 

After nearly a year there, I was fired from my position and was told to never come back. When I returned to the States, I was a shell of the person I once was (or thought I was), and I was covered in shame, regret, anger, sorrow, pain, and failure. I felt utterly empty on the inside, the pain so deep that I couldn't feel anything. 

So six months ago when I joined a discipleship school, I hoped and prayed with everything in me that our yearly mission trip wouldn't be to Mexico. In years past, the common destination was indeed Mexico, but I had heard that this year there were other options on the table. I swore that even if our trip was going to be there, I just wouldn't go. 

They didn't want me there, and I didn't want to be there. I just settled with the fact that Mexico would forever be a dark place on my map. 

Ironically, although not-so-ironically, the school decided to go to Mexico. It took months for me to even agree in my heart to go. The only thing that kept me going was my faith in the fact that nothing takes God by surprise. It was no accident that He led me to the school this year, and it was no coincidence that the mission trip that year would be to Mexico. I was terrified of going, afraid of what awaited me on the other side, but I knew He was going with me, and so I would go. 

The anticipation on the way there made me physically ill. I was filled with anxiety and nerves. Much of my time was spent in prayer and worship on the way down, trying to fight the fear that was overwhelming me. After a long drive we finally arrived, and we spent two weeks in a canyon only twenty minutes from where I had lived. The sights, the smells; all of it was too familiar. Painful memories flooded my mind, and I continually had to fight the feeling that God was cruel to bring me back here. 

Every day was a battle. Condemnation, fear, and self-hatred were heavy in the air. They hovered over me, just waiting for an opportunity to make their way back into my heart. Yet every morning I'd press in to the truth God had spoken over me in the past nine months since I had returned.

"For there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, for the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death," Romans 8:1-2. 

"And He who sits on the throne said, 'Behold, I make all things new.' And He said, 'Write, for these words are faithful and true,'" Revelation 21:5. 

"God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God," 2 Corinthians 5:21. 

"The Lord Himself goes before you and He will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged," Deuteronomy 31:8. 

Over and over I would remind myself of God's promises to me: that I have been forgiven and made righteous; that nothing can separate me from His love; that He is with me and He is helping me; that He has made me new and does not condemn me; that He doesn't hate me. Some days were easier than others. Yet through it all, I was overwhelmed by His grace and mercy for me. Every day was a battle, and yet I continually felt as if I was soaring. It was a very strange feeling, to be honest, because I felt both oppressed and free. 

Beyond all of my understanding, His love sustained me. 

                     

The trip held many amazing experiences, though I won't take the time to explain them all. However, God's grace and favor were all over me. I spent every day ministering and serving others in the midst of my own inner battle, and in turn others- without prompting- would turn and minister to and serve me. I overcame many fears and inner demons in those two short weeks. It all happened so fast, it still feels like it was a dream. 

On our last day in Mexico, I was overcome by fear. We were going to spend the day relaxing at the beach as a reward for all our hard work, and I internally started panicking. Don't get me wrong: I couldn't wait to return to the States. My heart and soul were exhausted from all of the emotional stimulation (both good and bad) that I had experienced on our trip. Yet on our way to the beach, I quickly became anxious at the thought that our trip was nearly over. 

But wait, I hadn't fixed it yet. It wasn't over. I could still feel the ugliness of my past, like a sticky paste that was all over my body, and I couldn't get it off. It felt nasty. All I wanted was for it to be over, for it to be history, for this trip to somehow erase the previous year I had spent in Mexico. Yet in that moment I realized my past was still alive and well, and that nothing I could do would change it. 

I couldn't change it. It didn't matter how many times I came to Mexico. It didn't matter how many times I ministered or how much I served. It didn't matter how many times I proclaimed that God's love has set me free and made me new. Nothing I did would be able to erase what I had done. My past was still there, and it felt so heavy over me in that moment. Struggling to fight against what I thought was the voice of condemnation, I suddenly realized that, actually, it's true. 

The truth is, it doesn't matter how many times I go to Mexico to serve or to minister. It doesn't matter how many mission trips I take. None of it will ever change or redeem the past. 

But what's also true, is that God didn't take me to Mexico to redeem the past. He already accomplished redemption fully on the cross. 

Instead, it was His grace and His kindness that invited me to return to Mexico to make new memories, to take away the sting of the old, to change the way "Mexico" tasted in my mouth, to remind me that even when I am weak He is strong, to show me that the past has no hold over my future, to bless others with that which He has given me: unconditional love and redemption. He brought me back so that, even in the very land in which I was unfaithful and ashamed, I would be confronted with the truth that nothing will disqualify me from proclaiming His truth, nor will it separate me from His love. 

My redemption was already paid for a long long time ago, and it was done by His work on the cross. Yet in His great love for me, He wanted to take it even further, to give me hope and beauty from the ashes of the train wreck I caused. He wanted to restore to me what had been lost, and bring back to life that which was dead- in the very land where it had withered. 

"In that day you shall not be put to shame for all your deeds by which you have rebelled and sinned against me ... for I will give you honor and praise in every land of your shame," Zephaniah 3:11,19. 

"Come be with Me," He said.

“Just write what I tell you to put on the page,” He tells me.

I go through phases like this all the time with my writing. I can’t seem to write. My thoughts don’t make it to the page. I want so badly to share what God has shown me and taught me, and yet when I try I stare at a blank computer screen for hours until I give up. And I do; I don’t write for long periods of time. Some would call it writer’s block, but I don’t. It’s not that there’s a lack of words or thoughts or ideas running through my mind. It’s that there are too many, and I feel an incessant need to thoroughly explain each one. Nobody has time for that.

So this morning I sat down in front of my blank computer screen, wondering if I’d ever get more than a few poorly written sentences on the page, and God  tells me to skip all the fancy stuff and just jump right into it- to just write what He has taught me. So pardon me for getting right to the point, but I’m not sure I’ll ever get this one out otherwise.

Here it is: Talking about God will never be a substitute for talking with God.

I went through a fairly difficult adjustment period when I first starting living here in Mexico. I had just spent two years in a discipleship school where I felt my heart for God had grown and matured and deepened. I felt like there was both a greater desire and a greater need for His presence in my life. I felt like my heart had become like a swimming pool, filled daily by His presence and His voice. During my time in the school, it was constantly overflowing.

Then I moved to Mexico, and I started pouring some of that water out. Little by little my pool was being drained, and because I was so busy with my new responsibilities and the adjustment of this new life I was living, I wasn’t taking the time to go to God to fill me up. I no longer felt like the pool of my heart was overflowing, but I wasn’t worried I’d ever be emptied. I mean, I’m a missionary, right? I’m talking about God all the time, and I work with people who love Him. How could my heart ever feel dry in this kind of environment?

Oh, but it could. And it did.

It was surprising to me at first because I seemed to surround myself with so many godly things and I was doing much of the same stuff I had done before. I was going to church. I was involved in a bible study. I’d read Christian books. I was talking about God to other people. I was listening to Christian music. I was playing Christian songs on piano and guitar. I was reading my bible (a little). It wasn’t as if I had cut God out of my life, and yet every day I felt more and more weary. I knew my pool was becoming more and more empty.

After about two months in, I cracked. My insides felt dry. My spirit was so thirsty. I longed for my God as if we’d been apart forever. I didn’t understand. How could I be in a place where God is so prevalent- He’s talked about, He’s loved, He’s known- and yet feel so far from Him? Another month went by and I couldn’t believe how hard it all had become on my heart. I was embarrassed and confused by it all. I felt so empty, and I knew I’d never make it as a missionary if this is what it would be like.

And then one day, as clear as could be, I heard God ask me to come be with Him. I said ok and I figured I’d go read my bible to spend time with Him. I sat down at my dining room table and opened up the bible and heard Him say, “Don’t do that.”

There is no way, I thought, that God just told me not to read the bible. I was sure I was hearing the enemy or that it was my own laziness urging me to put the book down and just relax instead. I shook it off and started flipping through the pages, trying to decide what to read.

“No,” He said again. “Don’t do that right now.”

I was so confused as to why God would tell me not to read the bible. I sat back and just stared for a minute, wondering if I reached for the bible again if I’d hear Him one more time. I thought about it for a second and then asked, “Okay, God, is this you? Are you seriously telling me not to read the bible?”

“Come be with me,” He responded. He didn’t really answer my question, but I knew it was Him.

It’s funny how that works.

Needless to say, I closed the bible and snuck away where I could be with Him in private. I sat there, not really knowing what to do, and so I just said, “Well … I’m here, God. What now?” I knew He wanted to talk with me, but I felt so out of place and so awkward. I didn’t know what to say. What in the world was I supposed to talk with Him about? And then it hit me: I felt awkward talking to God. When did that happen?! Was it not just mere months ago that He and I could talk for hours about something as simple as a flower or the way the sky looked?

Then as we began to speak, I realized it had been so long since I had slowed down enough to really hear His voice. Even though I had been reading the word or talking to others about Him, I wasn’t listening for Him to speak. Yet now as I heard His voice, He hardly had to say anything and I started crying at the sweetness of it all. I couldn’t believe how long it had been since we’d spoken like that, and in that moment I realized how deeply I had missed this communion with Him and how much of a toll it had taken on me.

Throughout my first few months I had talked about Him, yes. I had taught about Him. I had learned about Him. I had heard His name and shared His truth, yes, and yet in those months I hadn’t taken the time to talk with Him, and it made all the difference in the world. I was empty without His voice. I started to lose my perspective, my vision, and my rest. I had no peace. I felt like I was in constant striving, and I was always thirsty. I needed His presence. I needed His voice. I needed Him.

Since that moment with Him, it has been different. I haven’t been perfect in setting aside time by any means, but I have made it a point to rest daily. I’ve made time to sit in His presence and listen, to chat with Him about both important and menial things. I’ve taken the time to talk with Him, and I kid you not, my heart feels full. I feel alive. I have vision and peace and energy, and I am full of His love and joy. His voice made all the difference- His words for me personally, in that moment and in that circumstance. Simply talking about Him would’ve never brought me the same kind of love and peace.

Listen to me, friend: it doesn’t matter what kind of environment you are in. It doesn’t matter if you spend six days of the week at your church. It doesn’t matter if you are involved in a bible study every day of the week or if you spend all your time teaching the Word of God. It does not matter how much time you spend talking about God if you are not talking with Him. You will always be thirsty. You will never find rest. You will not know the “peace of God that surpasses all understanding” (Phil 4:7). These things are found in His presence, not in the mere talk of it.

So go and be with Him. Slow down and talk with Him. Don’t be fooled into thinking talking about Him will ever be a substitute. I can promise you it’s not. 

I Can't Stand in Awe of You

I have never been so consistently speechless in my life.

I’m serious. If I had transcripts of all my prayers this past month, most of them would look something like this:

Mary: God … *sobs*

God, you’re so great! *sobs more*

God … *continues sobbing*

Every once in awhile something fancy will get thrown in there, but it’s mostly just tears. They’re good tears, mind you, but tears nonetheless. I am so overwhelmed by who God is and what He has done that I have no words. I hardly have thoughts. I just have tears. I don’t know how else to respond. I am in such awe of Him that my body knows no other way to respond to His goodness but to cry. I pray, of course, but who knows what words stumble out of my mouth through the sobs.

He does, of course. Thank God.

I promise you that whatever picture you have of God in your head right now, it is not big enough. I promise you that my picture isn’t either. We say He’s big and we say He’s great, but we don’t understand. We can’t understand, because He’s that mighty. Paul says we only see and know in part- I assure you that is a very very very miniscule part.

We don’t understand. His greatness, His goodness, His faithfulness- it is so deep it’s immeasurable. Even if we could measure it, it’d be a number so great we couldn’t even define it. Do you realize how great He is?! I am certain that if I were to stand before even a fraction of Himself, I’d melt like candle wax in front of a fire. If I meditate on Him too long, I feel like I may explode.

He’s that great. We have no idea.

As I sit back and reflect on the last month of my life, I am speechless. How is it possible that the God of the entire universe has so blessed me and loved me and cared for me that I feel I am the only one in the world? It seems as if He only has eyes for me, and I can’t comprehend how He could love everyone this much. I want to write down everything He has done and every mountain He has moved, and yet I’m unable to find enough pages and enough time to write it. I’ve written about three pages per day, and I know I’ve left out so much. How is this even possible?

I feel like I am living out what John expressed in his gospel. “And there are also many other things which Jesus did, which, if they were written one by one, I suppose that not even the whole world itself could contain the books written,” (John 21:25). I always thought he was just exaggerated for dramatic effect, but now I wonder if he felt as I do- as if I could spend my entire day writing of His work in my life and I still wouldn’t be caught up. Plus, He’d probably do more miraculous things as I’m writing so I’d fall even further behind.

It’s incredible.

Our petite brains have no capacity to grasp how great our God truly is. Our momentary lives have not the time to write of all the great things He has done. He is so much greater than what we could possibly imagine (and some of us have really great imaginations).

Earlier this year God gave me a picture. I saw a great big ocean and God’s hand hovering above it. In His hand He had an eye-dropper, and He would take up from the ocean a single drop. He would bring it over to me and drop it into my heart. I was literally blown away. My body was tossed backward and the force of that one drop was so strong that I had to recover from how it had knocked me back. It was so powerful that I was out of breath. As I lay in the sand He said, “You have no idea. You have no concept for the depths of what I have to offer you, but I know this and I am patient. I will give you all of me you can handle at a time- one drop- and I will eagerly await each one.”

The Lord not only wanted me to see the depths of His goodness, but also His patience. I had a revelation that He wants to be known and He wants to give me all of Himself and who He is, but He knows He is so great that I can only handle a drop at a time, and even that one drop is overwhelming to me. So, He showed me, He waits. He blows me away with one drop of the vast ocean of who He is and He waits. Once I’ve stood up again and caught my breath and look out into the ocean once more, He smirks at me and asks, “Are you ready for more?” I smile and He takes another drop, and He blows me away again.

This is the greatness of our God! Think of the most amazing revelation you’ve had of Him. Think of the time you were most amazed and truly believed that God is big. Think of a time He blew you away and left you speechless.

Beloved, that was only one drop.

Oh, our God is so great. He is so good and mighty and big. We have no idea! As if that wasn’t enough to fall to my knees in worship (it totally is!), I am amazed by the truth that it is this God who loves us. It is this grandiose, immeasurable, powerful God who knows us and calls us His own. It is this God who chose us and pursues us and sacrifices Himself for us. It is this God! How is such goodness even possible?

I am reminded of the old hymn I used to sing as a kid that read, “I stand, I stand in awe of you. Holy God to whom all praise is due, I stand in awe of you,” and I think, “There’s no way I could stand.” I can’t. His greatness brings me to my knees every time. I am in awe of Him, that much is true, but it makes my knees buckle. I can’t even begin to explain it. I can’t even begin to understand it.

God is so great.

Oh, how those words feel so empty when trying to describe Him. No words in the English language (or any language, for that matter) could ever come close. I have no words. I have no song I could sing or prayer to pray that could ever do Him justice. I have no words.

I do have tears and intermittent mumbles. Thankfully, He welcomes even those.

Oh God, you are so so good. You are so great I can hardly catch my breath. This was a really good drop. 

Icing on the Cake

“Trust in the Lord and do good; dwell in the land and feed on His faithfulness. Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalm 37:3-4

Last night as I was falling asleep, various scenes from the past two years of my life ran through my mind. It was as if I was watching a movie before bed and the Lord was walking with me through each clip, showing me what it looked like from His eyes. In every scene I was crying. I knew the moments well, and I could remember the emotions as if they had all happened yesterday.

“Ah, so this is going to be a sports movie,” I thought. “He’s going to remind me of all the times that I wrestled.”

Scene after scene, the Lord showed me the moments in time when I had wrestled with my heart to be a missionary. It seems ironic that I ever had to wrestle with this, but looking back it makes perfect sense. I don’t know why I ever thought the Lord had other plans for me, but for whatever reason I had a sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, being a missionary wasn’t my calling. What if it wasn’t? Would I still trust God? Would I be happy wherever He had me? Would I still follow Him if His path wasn’t what I wanted?

I struggled with these questions over and over and over. Would I give up what my heart desired for the Lord? There were days I wouldn’t. I didn’t understand why He would ask me to give that up anyway, and I didn’t even want to wrestle. I just said, “No.” Many days, though, it was a fight. I wanted the Lord and I wanted to follow Him, but I didn’t want to stay where I was. I wanted to travel the world and preach the good news! I didn’t want a simple life in a small town.

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

The Lord went through scene after scene of my yeses to Him. They were all through tears, but He reminded me of all the times I said yes. I watched myself sob through the words, as if in those very moments I was giving up my resolve to travel and be a missionary. “I want to want what you want. I will stay if you ask me to stay.” Time and time again, I laid down my life and proclaimed that, though it hurt, God was worth it and He was enough. It was not easy.  In those moments of surrender I had felt sorrow and pain and loss, yet watching them again I felt excitement. I felt as if I were watching my child take her first steps. I felt proud. I felt love. I felt joy.

I knew this was how my Father had felt for me.

One scene in particular stood out to me and we lingered there for a moment. I suppose you could say it was the final yes in a series of yeses. It was a day near the end of the school year, and I had been praying about what to do after school had ended. I had felt no direction. I didn’t feel peace about going back home to Michigan, and I didn’t feel peace about pursuing missionary opportunities elsewhere. The only option that brought me peace was staying exactly where I was. I didn’t like it, but I knew it was what the Lord was asking of me.

“For how long?” I’d ask.

No response.

“Will this be forever?” I’d whine.

No response.

“But what about …?” I’d wonder.

“Trust Me,” He’d say.

So there I am one day at school and during prayer, I utterly break down. I sobbed. I cried and poured out everything I had in my heart. I confessed to the Lord that I was afraid. I was scared that I would never leave, that I would never receive the desires of my heart. I was sad to think about staying. It hurt. It felt as if a part of my heart as dying. I told the Lord about how deep the pain was, and that I didn’t understand why I had to let something like this go. I mourned my dreams and my desires.

Then, I let them go.

I said yes to the Lord, and this time it was loud. It wasn’t a whisper. I wasn’t trying to get myself to believe He was enough- I believed it, and I proclaimed it. I didn’t want to want what He wanted. I wanted it; whatever it was. I professed to the Lord that more than anything what I wanted was Him. If He asked me to stay, I’d stay. If He asked me to go, I’d go. As long as He was with me, I’d do it. I proclaimed that I trusted Him and that I believed He had good things for me. I said yes again and again and again, and I prayed that if He wanted me to stay for the rest of my life, I’d do it and I’d be content. He would be enough.

Last night as I watched myself let go of all the things I wanted for the sake of the Lord, I felt even more love rush over me. My Father whispered to me how overjoyed He was in my surrender. It wasn’t a selfish joy, either. He wasn’t happy because now He could have me all to Himself and tell me to do whatever He wanted. I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt it. I felt such pure joy and pleasure and delight; I felt excitement about what was coming.

It felt like the relief you feel after you’ve been holding your breath for a really long time. It was as if the Lord had been waiting and waiting for that moment and when it came, He could finally exhale and say, “At last. Oh, how I have longed for this day.”

I saw one last picture- myself driving down to Mexico as a missionary in two weeks- and I was overwhelmed again by joy at the thought of His faithfulness. The very thing I gave up, He has given to me not three months later. How good is God?!

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” Hm, what the Bible says is true. Go figure!

What a depiction this verse is of my life for the past two years. I stopped, I slowed down, and I took the time to delight myself in the Lord, and He has indeed given me the desires of my heart. The incredible thing is, the more I delighted myself in the Lord, the more He became the desire of my heart. Being a missionary never ceased to be a desire, but it became second to that of being with Him. I still wanted both, certainly, but I became convinced that if I had to pick one, it would be Him. He was my one desire. I was sold.

I believe it was then and only then that I could truly enjoy the fulfillment of being a missionary, and it was my surrender that allowed God to fulfill it. I don’t think this was some sort of formula and God was waiting for the magic words, but I do think it is truth. It’s just true. When we delight ourselves in the Lord, He will give us the desires of our hearts.

I don’t know why it works this way, but it does. Maybe, just maybe, He wants us to first recognize that He is all that can truly satisfy. He is the one thing we can long for that can never be taken from us. When we want the Lord above all else, our desire will never go unfulfilled for He Himself is faithful to fulfill it! Then as we delight ourselves in Him and are satisfied, He will give us the other desires of our hearts that turn out to be just icing on a really delicious cake.

Who doesn't love a really good cake?

Feed on His faithfulness. Delight yourself in Him. He is good and trustworthy and able, and He will give you the desires of your heart- starting with Himself. 

My Unnecessary Guilt

I remember reading a blog post one time that talked about how boredom was a sign of spiritual immaturity. It suggested that those who were bored in their lives merely didn’t know how to adequately be with God because God is not boring. I remember reading it and feeling as low as one could possibly get. “I’m a terrible Christian,” I thought. “I get bored all the time!” To this day, I still can’t shake that thought from memory. It has been permanently ingrained into my mind that boredom=bad Christian.

I have suffered immense guilt because of those words.

You see, I am a doer. I’m an extreme, restless, let’s do it all, please give me more work, doer. I do. I’ve never been much good at sitting unless, of course, the sitting is part of what I’m doing. I’m not good at “stillness.” I know it, God knows it, and anyone who has followed my blog for over a year knows it because I’ve written about trying to be still and rest so many times. I don’t rest like a lot of people. In my type of resting, I am still doing; I just do something lighter. I always do. That’s how I am made.

Because I’m wired this way, I’m restless when I’m not doing something. I become antsy. I feel lethargic and sad. I do not thrive in any way. I get bored. I start asking myself questions like, “Why would anyone ever retire?” and “What would the point of life be if you did?” Yes, I know to some of you that sounds crazy- I’ve been told. I know it sounds like I’m a workaholic who can’t enjoy life- I’ve been told.

The sad thing is, I have let such labels guilt me, confine me, and define me for a long time. I have believed for years that there is something wrong with me because I always want to be on the go. People have suggested I didn’t know how to be happy where I was or I was afraid of commitment. I never really felt that way, but I supposed there had to be a reason why I had these “wrong” feelings. It didn’t occur to me that someone could simply enjoy doing, going, and moving. It was impressed upon me as abnormal.

I was deceived by a number of lies about myself and how I was, one of the most damaging being that boredom meant I was spiritually immature. Even when I’d try to explain that I experience God in the doing, I’d be accused of “multi-tasking God,” and I would feel even worse. They’d say God is deserving of our undivided attention (which is true), but why couldn’t I give Him mine? The thing is that I could, but only for a little while. After about an hour I’d get antsy. I’d have to get up. I’d have to do something. Whenever I did, I’d feel guilty and then berate myself for being a bad Christian. Did I just get bored with God?

Yesterday I was on a walk and guilt began to overwhelm me. I had been bored most of my day. Yes I had a quiet time. Yes I spoke to God. Yes I spent time with Him, and yes I was still bored. I began mentally scolding myself for not being a good enough Christian. “I must not love God enough,” I thought. “Otherwise I could spend my whole day with Him and not be bored at all.” What kind of lie had I bought into? God spoke up and said, “Hey, I made you that way.” I could tell there was a hint of laughter in His voice.

I paused. I had to clarify because at first I thought He meant He made me to be bored and I just didn’t appreciate that. He then explained to me, though, that He made me to be a doer and there is never any reason to feel guilt about how He has crafted me. He and I began to talk about all the ways we spend time together, and He assured me it’s okay that I find it easier to do things with God than to sit still and stare at His beautiful face. Do I take time to sit still and stare at His face? Yes. Do I get restless after awhile? Yes, but it’s not because I think God is boring. It’s because I’d rather experience God in the doing than in the gazing, and that’s okay. That’s how He made me.

Some people could spend an entire day in one room, meditating on the character of God and they’d have the best day ever. That’s incredible, and I commend them. However, I can’t do that. I can spend some time meditating on the character of God, but I’d get antsy. What I could do is spend an entire day hiking, talking to God on my way and experiencing His character as we traipse through the woods together. That’s also incredible, and it’s not any less holy. Not in my opinion, anyway.

I think there is a big difference between doing stuff with God and multi-tasking God. I think there is a great difference between being bored with God and being bored along with God. I don’t mean to insinuate that God can get bored (maybe He can- I don’t know), but I do suggest that I can love someone with my entire being and if all I am doing is sitting around with that person, I will still be bored. The bottom line is that God knows that. See, He knows how He has made me. He knows that I enjoy Him most when we are doing things together.

That’s why God runs with me. That’s why He likes to take me on adventures and why He makes excuses for me to get lost in my car. It’s why I can hear Him loudest when I am doing something else. God knows I am a doer. He made me that way, and He will reveal Himself to me in that context. Does He still ask me at times to be still and just listen? Yes. Does He still ask me to sit and meditate on who He is? Yes. Does He get upset or think less of me because I prefer the former? Not at all. He designed me that way- He knew I would.

You know what? Jesus was a doer, too. He knew how to rest, of course, but He also knew how to go. There were times in His ministry when He would work for so long that He skipped meals for days. Sure, He escaped to the mountain to go pray, but who’s to say whether He experienced God more during the hike to the top or during the meditation on the peak? Who’s to say it wasn’t both? That’s the beauty of God- He can meet you in either place.

I write all this to say, to both myself and to you: however you are, that’s the way God made you. Don’t be ashamed- He made no mistake.

Some people can’t wait to retire. Others never want to. Some seek God in stillness. Others seek Him in movement. Some hear God loudest in silence. Others hear Him loudest in clamor. Neither is wrong; they are only different. How thankful I am that we have a God who can meet us and speak to us in a thousand different ways. In fact, I think it is one of the most beautiful things to see a person connect with God on a level He intended for them to.

God made me a doer, and I believe He intended for me to seek Him in the doing. If I happen to get a little bored from time to time, God gets it. He’s not ashamed- He’s probably laughing. I hope what He’s doing is planning our next great adventure!

Never apologize for how you are- God made you just right.

Maybe twenty years from now I’ll look back at what I wrote and think I was wrong and boredom actually does equate to spiritual immaturity. On the other hand, maybe I’ll look back and be thankful I learned this lesson when I did. What would those twenty years have looked like if I hadn’t?

“For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are you works; my soul knows it very well,” (Psalm 139:13-14).

What We Don't Want To Hear, Pt. 2

"Then the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, Speak to all the assembly of the children of Israel, and say to them, You shall be holy, for I, Jehovah your God, am holy," (Leviticus 19:1-2). 

I am Jehovah your God. Be holy for I am holy. God repeated this mandate continually throughout the book of Leviticus. It amazes me, actually, how often the Lord reminds His people who He is as He "lays down the law," so to speak. Much of Leviticus is directed toward the priesthood, but in a span of three chapters in which the directions for holy living are given to the people of Israel specifically, God echoes this proclamation of who He is 25 different times.  

It seems to me like He really wants to hit home the point that 1) He is holy and 2) He is God and lastly, 3) He wants us to be as He is. 
If I had to pick one concept that stuck out to me through my reading of this book, it would be that holiness really matters to God. "Be holy for I am holy." This was neither a half-hearted statement nor a passing thought. This was the foundation and purpose for the law: our holiness. It is apparent as one reads through the book of the law that holiness is a matter of great importance to the Lord. 
I think sometimes we can become so caught up in the grace of God that we forget the holiness of God. We are more apt to remember that Jesus didn't condemn the women caught in adultery than the fact that He commanded her to go and sin no more (see John 8:10-11). Yet both aspects are the truth of who God is and what He desires of His people. He is full of grace and compassion toward us in our shortcomings, but He wills that we leave our sin and live a life of holiness. 
It matters to Him that we change. He loves us as we are, but He is not content to leave us there. Now, as I explained in my previous post, we are free from this Old Testament law. Simply because it is beneficial for understanding doesn't mean it is binding. We are not required to live by the same conditions that God's people once did. Thank you, Jesus! However, the principles of holy living given in the law are still applicable to us today.
Disclaimer: As we search the law for understanding, we must remember that God has not changed from the Old Testament to the New Testament. How we relate to Him has, but who He is has not. What was once important to Him still is, and what He once considered to be sin still stands. He is the same yesterday, today, and yes, even forever, (see Hebrews 13:8). We should keep this in mind as we continue.
Okay, so are you with me so far? Holiness is super important to God. The law helps us understand what holiness is. Thus, the law is beneficial. 
So far so good? Sweet! (I'm assuming you said yes). Let us jump in, then, to discover the principles of the law and what they mean for us today. 
Oh, by the way: The beauty of grace is that, as we dive in, we mustn't be concerned with our standing before God. We are free to read through a host of laws we assuredly don't follow, and we can be confident in the power of Jesus's blood to redeem us as if we always had. We are holy before the Lord- don't forget that He has made you new. 
Leviticus begins with eight chapters that discuss protocol regarding different offerings unto God. These are the exciting chapters that talk about animal sacrifice, a little blood sprinkled here and there, removing fat from bones, etc. I could go into all the symbolism and how they all represent an aspect of Jesus and what He has done for us, but I'm currently more concerned with how they affect our walk of holiness because, however strangely, they do. 
We no longer bring animals or food to an altar, but we can bring to God the best of our time, our devotion, our money, and our lives. God is worthy of our best, and He knows when we give Him less. 

In my last blog I left you with questions about the purpose of the law to us now that it has been fulfilled through Jesus Christ. This is it, my friends: our holiness. Paul says that although through the works of the law no one shall be justified before God, "through the law is the clear knowledge of sin," (Romans 3:20). An understanding of the law will guide us into the holiness the Lord desires for our lives. 

... ... ... ... 

Holiness principle one: God is worthy of sacrificing the best.

What struck me throughout the offerings is that God required His people to sacrifice an animal from their herd of cattle without blemish. Cattle was part of their livelihood, so it was a cost to them, and God wanted a perfectly pure sacrifice. He wouldn't accept the disabled cow that no longer plowed or the sick goat that was of no use. It was, by definition, a true sacrifice- they had to give up something that was of great value to them. 

Not only this, but some of these sacrifices were to be made more than once per day. That's a lot of sacrifice! The principle here is that God is worthy of our best in every day, and we ought to give Him no less than best of what we have. We no longer make sacrifices to earn God's grace, but we sacrifice in response to grace because God, the glorious gift-giver, is worthy. 

It matters to God whether we give to Him of our first fruits or if we give what we have left over. Do we give Him our time and attention before we get started with our day, or do we wait until after we've spent time accomplishing everything else under the sun? Do we offer Him money as soon as we receive the paycheck, or do we give to Him after we've bought all we wanted to? Do we allow Him to direct our lives, or do we give Him a small portion of our life wherein He can have a say? He deserves the first and the best, and that is what we should offer.

Don't bring God a sick goat; He deserves your best. Walking in this reverent generosity is holiness.

"He who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me. He who seeks to find his life shall lose it, but he who loses his life for My sake shall find it," (Matthew 10:38-39).

Holiness principle two: God is ruthless with sin, and so shall we be. 

In Leviticus 12, God distinguishes between clean and unclean animals, stating those that are considered clean are able to be sacrificed and eaten without fear of defilement. The unclean animals, however, must be avoided at all costs. 

The Israelites are commanded to literally shatter stoves or vessels into which any unclean insect may fall, and likewise must rid themselves of articles of clothing or sackcloth that becomes tainted. It is certainly drastic and seemingly unnecessary, yet it's not merely about a few flies falling in your water. The principle here is that sin will defile whatever it touches, and we are to be ruthless with it in our lives. Even sin the size of a fly has the power to destroy us from the inside out if we let it. 

God didn't play games with sin, and neither should we. He didn't overlook even the smallest of unclean insects, though we tend to gloss over (and even justify) the "smallest" of sins such as lying, stealing, pride, worry (yes, worry), judgment, or disobedience. In our human perceptions we create a hierarchy of sin, failing to realize that every sin of every "size" defiles us just the same. 

It doesn't matter if it's just a fly if it still contaminates your soul. 

We are to be merciless with the sin in our lives, and we ought to shatter any vessel that harbors it. Don't dare drink out of the cup of pride that says, "I'm better than him because..." nor the cup of worry which says, "What if...?" Surely sin has tainted your drink, and even a drop will defile you from the inside out. 

Walking in such fierceness toward sin is holiness. 

"And if your eye stumbles you, cast it out; it is better for you to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into Gehenna," (Mark 9:47).

Holiness principle three: God doesn't purify sin; when sin is present, He brings in the wrecking ball.

Though similar in ways to point number two, I thought this concept was especially important to add. In Leviticus 13-14, God gives instructions on how to deal with leprosy. Much of this, I believe, is practical, yet also symbolic in many ways regarding sin. What I find fascinating is what God says about leprosy that has spread to clothing and housing. 

There is a process of isolation to go through when a house or cloth is suspected to be infected by leprosy, which is an attempt to remove the infection from the item and observe whether it is still unharmed. However, when the appointed time passes and it is clear that the clothing or house is tainted by leprosy, the clothing is burnt and the house is broken down (and its pieces of stone are thrown outside the city). 

I think there is something to be said about the way God utterly destroys what has been infected. The principle is that sin must be mercilessly destroyed and cast out of our lives lest it corrupt our very foundation. We ought not build around sin with a wall of "good stones" and think that will cause the infection to be stifled. You can not build a solid house on a tainted foundation. 

To me this looks like harboring "stones" of greed, lust, jealousy, pride, hate, and bitterness in the houses of our hearts and believing they won't contaminate the others around them. I assure you, a stone of kindness will quickly be squashed by even a pebble of jealousy. We must cast out these stones and tear down the house we've built with them. No house will stand with such sin in its walls. 

Now, as humans we may fall prey to these emotions from time to time, but we must not build with them. There is a difference between stumbling and accepting.  We may stumble, but we do not accept nor justify the sin. 

Ridding our lives of sin-infested stones is holiness. 

"Therefore this iniquity shall be to you like a breach in a high wall, bulging out and about to collapse, whose breaking comes suddenly, in an instant," (Isaiah 30:13).

Holiness principle four: God has appointed us to walk in purity and be separated from the ways of the world.

Chapter 18 begins the section of Leviticus that details holy living for God's people. These three chapters (18-20) focus on purity and living differently than the wicked people who had inhabited the land before them. Listed here are mostly examples of what they are not to do, and one command in particular stuck out to me. 

"...nor shall a garment made of two kinds of material come upon you," (Leviticus 19:19). I think this one entices me because it is so weird. I mean, what's the big deal? Well, the big deal is that it isn't about the fabric at all. The principle here is that we are to be pure; not mixed in with the world and its customs, but wholly as God designed us to be. You see, God is not offended by me if I wear a shirt that isn't 100% cotton, but He is displeased when I live my life partly in the culture of the world and partly in the culture He constituted. 

God desires us to walk in purity in all aspects, and He doesn't want our character nor our lives to be assimilated with the world. I believe this is so important because as Christians we can be deceived to think we must be "relevant" to get our message across. We think we must blend in with the culture so people will listen and hear the truth. Yet we misunderstand that the church is most effective when it is least like the culture (you can see that to be true all throughout church history). It is holiness- not as perfection, but as difference- that draws people in and causes them to question.  

We are not meant to look like the world- we were called as Christians to stand out. It is vital, both to God and to His message, to walk in this purity. We must not blend ourselves, in even the most insignificant ways, with the world. 

Do we? 

Do we avoid things such as drunkenness, sexual immorality, demoralizing music and shows, drugs, and idolatry, or do we engage in these things either unknowingly or to prove some sort of point that Christians can still be "cool?" I suppose we could debate about which of those are actually sinful, yet let us be in agreeance about one thing: none of them are life-giving nor do they set us apart from the world. 

It is holiness, by definition, to be set apart from the ways of the world.

"Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect," (Romans 12:2).

I could go on and on about what further instruction we could find in Leviticus, but the point is this: God is God, He is holy, we are to be holy as He is, and the law in the Old Testament is not disqualified from helping us be so. 

One last thing I would like to point out is that holiness is not about perfection. The definition of holiness is to be set apart for a specific purpose and regarded as sacred (which means to be reverently dedicated to a purpose). So really, it's not about being a great person or being a perfect witness for Christ. None of us can be that within our own power, anyway. We need the grace of God to change and be changed- no amount of holiness ever originates within ourselves. 

Holiness is about being set apart and being dedicated. Walking in holiness is about being so devoted to the Lord, that it becomes our joy to walk in His ways that will bring Him glory and delight. God doesn't ask us to be perfect- He knows we aren't and won't be! What He asks of us is to be holy, to be different, to walk in His ways and not our own. 

"Be holy for I am holy." We don't have to be perfect, friends. We just have to be different. 

Lastly, on top of all of this we must have humility. If we do not have humility, nothing else we do will matter to the Lord. We must walk in humble holiness, or all will be lost. After all, it's not our own strength that produces within us holiness, but the endless grace of God. 

"The greatest test of whether the holiness we profess to seek or to attain is truth and life will be whether it produces an increasing humility in us. In man, humility is the one thing needed to allow God’s holiness to dwell in him and shine through him. The chief mark of counterfeit holiness is lack of humility. The holiest will be the humblest." -Andrew Murray.