This is my first full week of ministry at UDAC (University Drive Alliance Church) and the question of the week is: how do we launch a new youth and young adult’s ministry? Have you ever thought about that? You don’t need to be a pastor to think about this or try to answer the question for yourself. In fact, I believe it is crucial for the church of God to be thinking through these kind of questions whether you are paid for full time ministry or not. So what would your answer be?
I don’t claim to be any genius on this issue. I actually think I’m quite “green” when it comes to the ins and outs of youth ministry. However, I know at least a little bit about leadership and a bit about the bible, so I think I may know at least where I could start. The questions I believe to be essential to answer in starting a youth ministry are as follows:
Why does the ministry exist?
Why would someone want to be a part of the ministry?
How is this ministry going to make a difference where you are?
These questions are not easy to answer. Take a moment and reflect on the ministries you have. Whether these ministries are in a church or in the community, how would you answer these questions?
9.8.10
19.7.10
everything
What does it take to give everything to God? What does it take to give just one thing to God? What does it take to dedicate something to God? When we ask for something, does God it to us for ourselves? Or does he give it to us so that we can turn around and give it right back?
1 Samuel 1:20-28
This is what challenged me today. Hannah showed ultimate faith.
1 Samuel 1:20-28
This is what challenged me today. Hannah showed ultimate faith.
14.7.10
An Urge to Blog
It is quite strange, but I was overcome with an urge to blog about something; and that is the strange part. I just have an urge to write about something, nothing specific. Actually, if I am going to be honest with you, I have absolutely no idea at this point what I am going to write about. Oh, by the way, this is just a little secret for those of you interested in how I come up with what I put in my book: it’s pretty much just like what I am doing right now. I start out writing about absolutely nothing and eventually arrive at something meaningful. This time is slightly different, though. This time I have this leading in my spirit to write, and so I am going to.
Perhaps I am writing for one of you reading this. Perhaps I am writing this so that I can learn something through introspection. I honestly do not know yet. What I do know is that I am writing for a purpose, and this purpose, whatever it should be, was already in the mind of God before I started writing. I know that God has purpose for what I write, because it was him who gave me the ability to write in the first place. He gave me the ability to write and he develops my ability as I put it to use. Certainly, my intention in putting my ability in writing, and all my abilities for that matter, to use is to follow God’s leading and bring glory to his name. There is no use in using any of my abilities unless they are used unto God.
It is quite convicting to look back and assess the amount of time I have spent using my abilities for something other than giving them completely back to God. There are so many times that I simply don’t put the abilities God has gifted me with to good use, let alone the times that I completely profane my gifts whenever I am led away into sin. What God has gifted me with is meant to be entirely and immensely focused on him. God has gifted me with abilities, not so that I could spend them on myself, but so that I could spend them on his kingdom. Yet, there are so many times when I am not even aware of how I am using my gifts for God. There are countless occasions in my experience where using my gifts for God are not even a thought in my mind.
Take for example my trip to the Calgary Stampede on Sunday (ok, side note, I absolutely love the stampede. I feel like I was meant to be a cowboy. I’ve been listening to country music all week. ok, back to the blog). I had an absolutely amazing time at the Stampede. There were games and attractions and the coolest Grandstand show ever. There was tons of sweets and goodies, country music, live entertainment. There was everything imaginable to be distracted and entertained. I have to say, though, while I was at the Stampede it didn’t even occur to me to be using my gifts for God right then and there. It wasn’t even that this was the last thought on my mind. It wasn’t even a thought in my mind to begin with. I was much more focused on getting my beef on a bun and seeing the chucks than using my gifts for God. Can you relate at all?
Don’t get me wrong; I don’t think there is anything wrong with having a good time. However, I know that everything that I have in this life, everything from my possessions to my gifts to each and every second that I have to live is a gift from God. There is nothing that I have done nor anything that I can do to deserve these gifts. They are from God, and so it is my purpose to give it entirely back to him. Entirely. That doesn’t mean thinking about God most of the time. That doesn’t mean putting in a really good effort to love someone once a week. Entirely means everything. Every last bit of my being and of my time is for God. That is the standard for the members of God’s family. Mostly is not good enough. Almost everything is not good enough. Practically all the time is not good enough. Entirely means everything.
Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.”
Luke 9:23-24
I will close off by saying this: I have a friend who texted me today encouraging me in my soon to be position as a youth pastor in Lethbridge. She also asked me if I had any really cool God-encounters lately. Though she may not know it, this was really convicting for me. I have had some really cool God encounters lately, but I had to think for a while of what they might be. I can’t help but think if I am taking Luke 9 seriously, this should be second nature to think of, no effort at all.
I did come to one really cool God experience in my memory after a while of thinking, from the same girl actually. She’s quite sick right now, and taking medicine specifically prescribed from the doctor to cure what should be just a common cold. Even though she is really sick, she took the time to encourage me. She put her gifts to work, even in the most inconvenient circumstances.
Ask yourself with me: how do I do in using my gifts when the circumstances are ideal, let alone inconvenient?
May God bless you as you use your everything entirely.
Perhaps I am writing for one of you reading this. Perhaps I am writing this so that I can learn something through introspection. I honestly do not know yet. What I do know is that I am writing for a purpose, and this purpose, whatever it should be, was already in the mind of God before I started writing. I know that God has purpose for what I write, because it was him who gave me the ability to write in the first place. He gave me the ability to write and he develops my ability as I put it to use. Certainly, my intention in putting my ability in writing, and all my abilities for that matter, to use is to follow God’s leading and bring glory to his name. There is no use in using any of my abilities unless they are used unto God.
It is quite convicting to look back and assess the amount of time I have spent using my abilities for something other than giving them completely back to God. There are so many times that I simply don’t put the abilities God has gifted me with to good use, let alone the times that I completely profane my gifts whenever I am led away into sin. What God has gifted me with is meant to be entirely and immensely focused on him. God has gifted me with abilities, not so that I could spend them on myself, but so that I could spend them on his kingdom. Yet, there are so many times when I am not even aware of how I am using my gifts for God. There are countless occasions in my experience where using my gifts for God are not even a thought in my mind.
Take for example my trip to the Calgary Stampede on Sunday (ok, side note, I absolutely love the stampede. I feel like I was meant to be a cowboy. I’ve been listening to country music all week. ok, back to the blog). I had an absolutely amazing time at the Stampede. There were games and attractions and the coolest Grandstand show ever. There was tons of sweets and goodies, country music, live entertainment. There was everything imaginable to be distracted and entertained. I have to say, though, while I was at the Stampede it didn’t even occur to me to be using my gifts for God right then and there. It wasn’t even that this was the last thought on my mind. It wasn’t even a thought in my mind to begin with. I was much more focused on getting my beef on a bun and seeing the chucks than using my gifts for God. Can you relate at all?
Don’t get me wrong; I don’t think there is anything wrong with having a good time. However, I know that everything that I have in this life, everything from my possessions to my gifts to each and every second that I have to live is a gift from God. There is nothing that I have done nor anything that I can do to deserve these gifts. They are from God, and so it is my purpose to give it entirely back to him. Entirely. That doesn’t mean thinking about God most of the time. That doesn’t mean putting in a really good effort to love someone once a week. Entirely means everything. Every last bit of my being and of my time is for God. That is the standard for the members of God’s family. Mostly is not good enough. Almost everything is not good enough. Practically all the time is not good enough. Entirely means everything.
Then he said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.”
Luke 9:23-24
I will close off by saying this: I have a friend who texted me today encouraging me in my soon to be position as a youth pastor in Lethbridge. She also asked me if I had any really cool God-encounters lately. Though she may not know it, this was really convicting for me. I have had some really cool God encounters lately, but I had to think for a while of what they might be. I can’t help but think if I am taking Luke 9 seriously, this should be second nature to think of, no effort at all.
I did come to one really cool God experience in my memory after a while of thinking, from the same girl actually. She’s quite sick right now, and taking medicine specifically prescribed from the doctor to cure what should be just a common cold. Even though she is really sick, she took the time to encourage me. She put her gifts to work, even in the most inconvenient circumstances.
Ask yourself with me: how do I do in using my gifts when the circumstances are ideal, let alone inconvenient?
May God bless you as you use your everything entirely.
13.7.10
Scatter and Preach
For anyone who reads this, you may or may not know but I have started a new job just recently. So recently that I am just in my second week of work. The first week was anything but smooth. It has been very difficult to get a hold of people and to understand what is going on. Everyone is either busy with camps or vbs' or gone on vacation. This has made it very difficult to get a level of understanding that I would like to help drive this youth ministry into the fall running. I don't even know what a typical 'youth night' looks like at my new church. All of this brought me to reading about Paul or rather Saul and his beginning of his ministry. Before I got to Saul becoming Paul I was reading this morning about how Saul had been persecuting the Church. Saul was throwing people in jail and was a part of the stoning of Stephen. Just after that, it reads that the Church had been scattered all over Judea and Samaria. What comes next completely blew me away (maybe it is basic for everyone else but for me right now, its crazy).
"those who had been scattered went about preaching the word". This is phrase that is crazy. Because it just moves on to tell a story about Philip and his preaching. But what is crazy about the above phrase is how it seems natural that whenever people get scattered they just set up camp somewhere else and continue to preach the word. For the author here it just makes sense that people would be continuing to preach. There is no break for them, it just continues. This made me think so much about my new job and what not in life. I haven't been scattered but i have moved. For Philip, he just moved on to Samaria and continued to do what he did, it didn't matter where he was. This made me wonder about my job. Do I just do what I do, and it doesn't really matter all that much about where I am? What about the culture and being relevant to the community I am in? It seems like it would be a pretty big deal to move from one place and start up another ministry somewhere else. We tend to make a big deal about culture and that different places involve different methods. But maybe we should just be focused on doing what we do, preaching and spreading the word.
"those who had been scattered went about preaching the word". This is phrase that is crazy. Because it just moves on to tell a story about Philip and his preaching. But what is crazy about the above phrase is how it seems natural that whenever people get scattered they just set up camp somewhere else and continue to preach the word. For the author here it just makes sense that people would be continuing to preach. There is no break for them, it just continues. This made me think so much about my new job and what not in life. I haven't been scattered but i have moved. For Philip, he just moved on to Samaria and continued to do what he did, it didn't matter where he was. This made me wonder about my job. Do I just do what I do, and it doesn't really matter all that much about where I am? What about the culture and being relevant to the community I am in? It seems like it would be a pretty big deal to move from one place and start up another ministry somewhere else. We tend to make a big deal about culture and that different places involve different methods. But maybe we should just be focused on doing what we do, preaching and spreading the word.
9.6.10
A Test, Who's Watching?
Have you every had a really ordinary experience turn extraordinary all at once? You’re in your favorite spot doing your regular gig, and then all of a sudden what was once commonplace now turns completely surreal. Everything changes. Something has interrupted your groove and perhaps intervened for some purpose. Something, be that a person, a sound, a commotion, a conversation, or a timely word, has altered what may have been an unrecognized passing moment.
I had one such experience, last week, actually. I was in my favorite writing spot in NW Calgary, which for many of you who know me well can probably guess as the Starbucks in Crowfoot. I grabbed my quasi-usual armchair beside the couch and coffee table, ordered my tall-bold-no-room coffee, leaned back in pure satisfaction after my first sip, and began writing in my coil notebook. Such was the routine I was accustomed to at this Starbucks. Nothing out of the ordinary, simply complete bliss and relaxation; the perfect atmosphere to engage in writing. I wrote about 3 pages until my first pleasant surprise came along.
It came with a familiar voice that I’ve grown to love dearly and followed by a surprised laugh that I could pinpoint in any crowd. I looked up already expecting to see my mom and dad ordering their coffee at the till. They had been out running some errands and came to the Starbucks with no presumption I would be sitting in their writing. They sat on the couch beside my armchair and we talked about the day, about the weekend and about my future as a pastor. I shared some of my anxieties and concerns about my job placement, not least of which was my faith in God’s direction. Little did I know in that commonplace moment my faith would be tested not two hours later in that exact same spot. My parents finished the last few sips of their coffee and made it on their way again. I stayed behind to continue writing. I felt as though I was on a roll and was compelled to continue until I couldn’t write any more.
I was intently writing on loving God and refusing to make excuses that lead toward mediocrity. Having written the developing thoughts of my argument I started to passionately drive home my point. As I began this literary journey, my excursion was interrupted abruptly. At first I thought the interruption originated from the two overly-dramatic girls who couldn’t decide whether they wanted to sit on the couch beside me or on the stools. With a few whispers and laughs they opted for the stools and I dismissed the interruption as an inconvenient distraction. The interruption came again, this time more poignantly than before. I put down my pen, gently closed my notebook and listened. Without a doubt I heard something. It was not auditory, yet undeniably vocal. The calling that was neither human nor earthly simultaneously gripped my heart and mind. The instruction was clear: “In a moment someone will sit beside you on the couch. They will ask you what you are writing. You must tell them.”
At first I was paralyzed with fear at encounter and the possibility that it could be supernatural prophecy. A moment later I tried everything I could to dismiss the instruction as my mind playing tricks on me. I grabbed my pen, opened my notebook and began to write frantically in attempts to distract myself. The recollection of the encounter never quite left. Deep in my being I knew the instruction would come to pass. It was simply a matter of time and my willingness.
Strangely enough, the two whimsical girls came back to sit on the couch, but not quite beside me. They sat at the opposite end, continuing in their female gabble and giggles. I half expected one of them to ask what I was writing, but when they got up and returned to their car a strange and fleeting sense of failure brushed my mind. Was I supposed to begin a conversation with these two that would lead them to ask what I was writing? Was I paralyzed by my own lack of faith to pursue what was right? Though the thought was present, I was able to easily dismiss it. I felt a sense of peace even in dismissing the sense of failure, trusting that if the aforementioned instruction were indeed supernatural guidance, the experience to come would be undeniable. All the same, I still dreaded sharing my faith with a stranger.
It wasn’t five minutes after the last guests on the couch beside me dismissed themselves that another group of college students came to the till beside me to order their coffees. It was a group of four of them, this time, one of whom was impossible to miss. They say there are two kinds of people in this world: those who are introverts and those who are extroverts, but I would have to say the guy that just came in, the one who was impossible to miss, he was in a category all on his own. I am an extrovert. Compared to this guy, I seem like the shyest person you will ever meet. I don’t think there was one word this guy said that anyone in the Starbucks missed. For that matter, I don’t think there was one thought this guy had that wasn’t made explicitly auditory. He was certainly the strongest personality in his group of friends, and he engaged each of them, along with half the people in the Starbucks, as he vibrantly recounted the events of the last week. Mind you, it was not so much the captivating nature of the stories that compelled the attention of so many, but more so the sheer volume and presence of his personality. I looked up from my notebook to catch a glance of this character. I quickly noticed that I was not the only one spotting this individual. Having seen all I needed, I bowed my head and said a gentle prayer somewhat to the effect of, “Dear God, thank you so much for this guy at the till and his vibrant personality. Please help him to sit anywhere but on this couch next to me. Amen.” That was mistake number one. I don’t know what it is with God and answering these kinds of prayers, maybe it’s his sense of humor, but for whatever reason things seem to happen in the exact opposite way you want them to every time. “Hey man! Can we sit on this couch thingy beside you?” he nodded toward the couch and began to sit down before I answered. “Absolutely! Please, be my guest!” If my prayer was mistake number one then this response was mistake number two. Absolutely? Be my guest? I was making it sound like I wanted him to sit down. Immediately after I gave this invitation, pen and notebook in hand, I knew without a shadow of a doubt what the next question would be.
When you expect that a certain event that will take you out of your comfort zone may occur, you become anxious. When you realize there is no chance whatsoever in avoiding such an event, you become terrified. I was terrified. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew that I could kind of enter into a surface level conversation, barely, but I knew with this guy there was no possibility of that.
The question came without any form of disguise whatsoever. “What are you writing?” he asked. When the instruction I heard earlier told me someone would ask me what I was writing, I didn’t think the instruction was that literal. I paused for what seemed to be an eternity. “Uh, well, haha,” I think were the first profound words that came out of my mouth. I considered for a split second to lie or to tell about something else I had written. A second later, though, I knew what I needed to say, “I’m actually writing a book about life and my thoughts on God.”
“Oh, so you believe in God?”
“Yes, I do”
“Oh, so you believe there is a heaven and a hell then?”
“Yes, I do”
Without the slightest hesitation, this guy began to tell me his opinion of heaven and hell as if I had asked him for it. “yeah, I believe in heaven and hell to, but like, I believe that earth is hell. I believe that heaven is where you go when you escape hell, so like, I believe in reincarnation. Do you believe in reincarnation? Do you believe that it’s possible?”
I wanted to be as respectful as possible without compromising my convictions, “well, um, no, not really, no, I don’t believe that.”
“So do you believe God is a man?”
“Well, I believe in Jesus, Yes.”
What came next surprised me. This guy obviously knew about Christianity and had chosen not to believe in it, “Oh, so you believe that God came to earth and he died on a cross to save the world and forgive sin and all that?”
“Yep, I guess, that sounds about right”
“I don’t believe in that. So do you think of God as a big man with long grey hair?”
I could tell he was partly mocking me, yet not without an appreciation for my opposing views. The conversation ended shortly after this question as this guy and his friends lost interest in the topic and conversation. I should say that while the guy bombarding me with questions was obviously not uncomfortable about pursuing the theological discussion, his friends more than obviously were. The entire time each of them were curled up like worms being scorched on hot pavement. They looked at the floor nearly the entire time as though I was going to start biting their heads off. It was ironically comical.
About ten minutes later the group of friends made it on their way. The guy bid me farewell and good luck on my book, a little tongue-in-cheek, but sincere nonetheless. I sat there on the armchair, dumbfounded to say the least. I shook my head and laughed quietly to myself. I had to take a moment to process everything that had just happened. It seemed like a really weird dream or something that you would read about. I guess I never thought I’d be the one writing the story. I finished my journal entry in my coil notebook, imagining what sort of influence my testimony may have had. What was its purpose? Why did God bring that exact person to me at that exact moment? Was it some sort of test?
The timing of events to my thoughts was beginning to seem a little beyond coincidental. During this entire experience at Starbucks I would be processing a thought and then immediately the answer would come. This last thought was no exception. Right as I was processing the purpose of the encounter, I was interrupted one last time. This time when I looked up I saw an old friendly face I had never seen before. It was a strong but older man, probably edging his late 60’s. With grey hair and glasses he looked at me and smiled and said, “I heard what you said to those people sitting over there. Way to go! Keep up the good work!” he gave me a thumbs-up, smiled once again, and turned to leave. I expressed my thanks for his encouragement, and I was encouraged. I was very encouraged. I guess I passed the test.
I forgot to mention something about this last stranger. I never did see him come in to the Starbucks. I distinctly remember looking over my shoulder before the group of people came in and the man wasn’t behind me. Of course, the man could have been hidden behind some ornament or poster board, but what happened next was even more astonishing. I looked down at my notebook briefly after the man turned to leave and I looked up again and the man was gone. I don’t really even know if anyone but me knew he was there. Perhaps it was a mysterious encounter with a kind individual who was prompted by God to encourage me. Perhaps it was something else.
You never know who may be watching, listening and observing your testimony; perhaps a guy who needs to be put back on track, perhaps a bystander who will be encouraged by your conviction, or perhaps, perhaps God will be listening in on your conversation with one of his very own messengers…
You never know when God will test you. You never know when your testimony will make an eternal difference. If you were in my shoes tomorrow, would you pass the test?
I had one such experience, last week, actually. I was in my favorite writing spot in NW Calgary, which for many of you who know me well can probably guess as the Starbucks in Crowfoot. I grabbed my quasi-usual armchair beside the couch and coffee table, ordered my tall-bold-no-room coffee, leaned back in pure satisfaction after my first sip, and began writing in my coil notebook. Such was the routine I was accustomed to at this Starbucks. Nothing out of the ordinary, simply complete bliss and relaxation; the perfect atmosphere to engage in writing. I wrote about 3 pages until my first pleasant surprise came along.
It came with a familiar voice that I’ve grown to love dearly and followed by a surprised laugh that I could pinpoint in any crowd. I looked up already expecting to see my mom and dad ordering their coffee at the till. They had been out running some errands and came to the Starbucks with no presumption I would be sitting in their writing. They sat on the couch beside my armchair and we talked about the day, about the weekend and about my future as a pastor. I shared some of my anxieties and concerns about my job placement, not least of which was my faith in God’s direction. Little did I know in that commonplace moment my faith would be tested not two hours later in that exact same spot. My parents finished the last few sips of their coffee and made it on their way again. I stayed behind to continue writing. I felt as though I was on a roll and was compelled to continue until I couldn’t write any more.
I was intently writing on loving God and refusing to make excuses that lead toward mediocrity. Having written the developing thoughts of my argument I started to passionately drive home my point. As I began this literary journey, my excursion was interrupted abruptly. At first I thought the interruption originated from the two overly-dramatic girls who couldn’t decide whether they wanted to sit on the couch beside me or on the stools. With a few whispers and laughs they opted for the stools and I dismissed the interruption as an inconvenient distraction. The interruption came again, this time more poignantly than before. I put down my pen, gently closed my notebook and listened. Without a doubt I heard something. It was not auditory, yet undeniably vocal. The calling that was neither human nor earthly simultaneously gripped my heart and mind. The instruction was clear: “In a moment someone will sit beside you on the couch. They will ask you what you are writing. You must tell them.”
At first I was paralyzed with fear at encounter and the possibility that it could be supernatural prophecy. A moment later I tried everything I could to dismiss the instruction as my mind playing tricks on me. I grabbed my pen, opened my notebook and began to write frantically in attempts to distract myself. The recollection of the encounter never quite left. Deep in my being I knew the instruction would come to pass. It was simply a matter of time and my willingness.
Strangely enough, the two whimsical girls came back to sit on the couch, but not quite beside me. They sat at the opposite end, continuing in their female gabble and giggles. I half expected one of them to ask what I was writing, but when they got up and returned to their car a strange and fleeting sense of failure brushed my mind. Was I supposed to begin a conversation with these two that would lead them to ask what I was writing? Was I paralyzed by my own lack of faith to pursue what was right? Though the thought was present, I was able to easily dismiss it. I felt a sense of peace even in dismissing the sense of failure, trusting that if the aforementioned instruction were indeed supernatural guidance, the experience to come would be undeniable. All the same, I still dreaded sharing my faith with a stranger.
It wasn’t five minutes after the last guests on the couch beside me dismissed themselves that another group of college students came to the till beside me to order their coffees. It was a group of four of them, this time, one of whom was impossible to miss. They say there are two kinds of people in this world: those who are introverts and those who are extroverts, but I would have to say the guy that just came in, the one who was impossible to miss, he was in a category all on his own. I am an extrovert. Compared to this guy, I seem like the shyest person you will ever meet. I don’t think there was one word this guy said that anyone in the Starbucks missed. For that matter, I don’t think there was one thought this guy had that wasn’t made explicitly auditory. He was certainly the strongest personality in his group of friends, and he engaged each of them, along with half the people in the Starbucks, as he vibrantly recounted the events of the last week. Mind you, it was not so much the captivating nature of the stories that compelled the attention of so many, but more so the sheer volume and presence of his personality. I looked up from my notebook to catch a glance of this character. I quickly noticed that I was not the only one spotting this individual. Having seen all I needed, I bowed my head and said a gentle prayer somewhat to the effect of, “Dear God, thank you so much for this guy at the till and his vibrant personality. Please help him to sit anywhere but on this couch next to me. Amen.” That was mistake number one. I don’t know what it is with God and answering these kinds of prayers, maybe it’s his sense of humor, but for whatever reason things seem to happen in the exact opposite way you want them to every time. “Hey man! Can we sit on this couch thingy beside you?” he nodded toward the couch and began to sit down before I answered. “Absolutely! Please, be my guest!” If my prayer was mistake number one then this response was mistake number two. Absolutely? Be my guest? I was making it sound like I wanted him to sit down. Immediately after I gave this invitation, pen and notebook in hand, I knew without a shadow of a doubt what the next question would be.
When you expect that a certain event that will take you out of your comfort zone may occur, you become anxious. When you realize there is no chance whatsoever in avoiding such an event, you become terrified. I was terrified. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew that I could kind of enter into a surface level conversation, barely, but I knew with this guy there was no possibility of that.
The question came without any form of disguise whatsoever. “What are you writing?” he asked. When the instruction I heard earlier told me someone would ask me what I was writing, I didn’t think the instruction was that literal. I paused for what seemed to be an eternity. “Uh, well, haha,” I think were the first profound words that came out of my mouth. I considered for a split second to lie or to tell about something else I had written. A second later, though, I knew what I needed to say, “I’m actually writing a book about life and my thoughts on God.”
“Oh, so you believe in God?”
“Yes, I do”
“Oh, so you believe there is a heaven and a hell then?”
“Yes, I do”
Without the slightest hesitation, this guy began to tell me his opinion of heaven and hell as if I had asked him for it. “yeah, I believe in heaven and hell to, but like, I believe that earth is hell. I believe that heaven is where you go when you escape hell, so like, I believe in reincarnation. Do you believe in reincarnation? Do you believe that it’s possible?”
I wanted to be as respectful as possible without compromising my convictions, “well, um, no, not really, no, I don’t believe that.”
“So do you believe God is a man?”
“Well, I believe in Jesus, Yes.”
What came next surprised me. This guy obviously knew about Christianity and had chosen not to believe in it, “Oh, so you believe that God came to earth and he died on a cross to save the world and forgive sin and all that?”
“Yep, I guess, that sounds about right”
“I don’t believe in that. So do you think of God as a big man with long grey hair?”
I could tell he was partly mocking me, yet not without an appreciation for my opposing views. The conversation ended shortly after this question as this guy and his friends lost interest in the topic and conversation. I should say that while the guy bombarding me with questions was obviously not uncomfortable about pursuing the theological discussion, his friends more than obviously were. The entire time each of them were curled up like worms being scorched on hot pavement. They looked at the floor nearly the entire time as though I was going to start biting their heads off. It was ironically comical.
About ten minutes later the group of friends made it on their way. The guy bid me farewell and good luck on my book, a little tongue-in-cheek, but sincere nonetheless. I sat there on the armchair, dumbfounded to say the least. I shook my head and laughed quietly to myself. I had to take a moment to process everything that had just happened. It seemed like a really weird dream or something that you would read about. I guess I never thought I’d be the one writing the story. I finished my journal entry in my coil notebook, imagining what sort of influence my testimony may have had. What was its purpose? Why did God bring that exact person to me at that exact moment? Was it some sort of test?
The timing of events to my thoughts was beginning to seem a little beyond coincidental. During this entire experience at Starbucks I would be processing a thought and then immediately the answer would come. This last thought was no exception. Right as I was processing the purpose of the encounter, I was interrupted one last time. This time when I looked up I saw an old friendly face I had never seen before. It was a strong but older man, probably edging his late 60’s. With grey hair and glasses he looked at me and smiled and said, “I heard what you said to those people sitting over there. Way to go! Keep up the good work!” he gave me a thumbs-up, smiled once again, and turned to leave. I expressed my thanks for his encouragement, and I was encouraged. I was very encouraged. I guess I passed the test.
I forgot to mention something about this last stranger. I never did see him come in to the Starbucks. I distinctly remember looking over my shoulder before the group of people came in and the man wasn’t behind me. Of course, the man could have been hidden behind some ornament or poster board, but what happened next was even more astonishing. I looked down at my notebook briefly after the man turned to leave and I looked up again and the man was gone. I don’t really even know if anyone but me knew he was there. Perhaps it was a mysterious encounter with a kind individual who was prompted by God to encourage me. Perhaps it was something else.
You never know who may be watching, listening and observing your testimony; perhaps a guy who needs to be put back on track, perhaps a bystander who will be encouraged by your conviction, or perhaps, perhaps God will be listening in on your conversation with one of his very own messengers…
You never know when God will test you. You never know when your testimony will make an eternal difference. If you were in my shoes tomorrow, would you pass the test?
29.4.10
A Convenient Sickness?
Have you ever had something really unpleasant happen to you at an ironically convenient time? I mean, when you really think about it, has there ever been a time where you were even a little bit thankful for an unpleasant event, or maybe at least thankful that it didn’t happen at a different time?
It’s hard to think of a time like that, isn’t it? We’re really good at remembering the horrible timing of foul events in our lives. We may actually enjoy it; complaining about our dreadful circumstances to gain the attention and sympathy of others. Yet, when it comes to finding bits of joy in our hurts, we’re much less capable. Actually, capable might not be the right word. Perhaps “willing” would be a better fit. We don’t like to find joy in our hurts because it is hard; we want our hurt to go away, not to think about how it might be a blessing. We blind ourselves from the potential blessing of our circumstances with the discomfort of our present. We are so easily narrow-focused.
It was easy for me to be narrow-focused today. I helped my friend Joel move yesterday and almost as soon as I got home I burned up with a fever and almost every muscle in my body ached. I tried to sleep but the fever made my head spin at a million miles an hour. I did get some sleep, but when I woke up, I still felt awful. Actually, as I am writing this blog I still don’t feel that great (Although, the fever is gone and my body doesn’t hurt as bad). I felt sick all day. I wanted so bad for the day just to be over and for the sickness to go away. Oh, by the way, for those of you who don’t know Joel is the other member of this blogspot. Actually, I haven’t told him I am sick yet. Joel, if you are reading this, you should take some cold FX so you don’t get sick too :P. Ok, back to the blog. When I woke up this morning, I realized how much this sickness was going to ruin my day. I had a whole bunch of work I wanted to get done at the church, people I wanted to get together with, and little errands I wanted to get done. None of these were so much as attempted, let alone accomplished. However, when I looked outside my window, my perspective changed a little.
You know how when you wake up in the morning there’s a certain kind of light you’re expecting to be coming through your window? You know, the certain tone and colors of the sunrise through the drapes of your bedroom window that change every season? Well, being as it’s April right now, I was expecting to wake up to the nice warm oranges and reds of a spring sunrise. Instead, I woke up to a violently bright sea of white and grey. It wasn’t because I was sick and now I was hallucinating (although, a part of me kind of wishes I was). It was because during the night we had 20 cm of SNOW! Did I mention that it’s April? Oh, not just April, it’s April 29th… almost MAY! A little late to be having snow don’t you think? But when my eyes finally adjusted to the blinding sunlight reflecting off the dunes of snow on my front yard, I realized how blessed I was with the timing of my sickness. I mean, honestly, could there have been a more convenient time to be sick? There was a ton of snow outside at the end of April which means the roads would be horrific. More than that, the blowing snow would have been like sandpaper against your face, and mixed with the cold and wind chill, would have been a dreadful way to start the day. So here I was sitting in my room staring at the April winter wonderland, and I realized that even if I was not sick, I would be stuck at home all day. So there’s the first part of the blessing.
The second blessing that comes with my sickness is the reality that it didn’t take place at some other significant time, like my grad weekend or during the completion of my final papers. If I had been sick on an occasion like those, I would have been so upset. Thankfully, that was not the case. I was conveniently sick not then, but today.
Finally, my sickness gave me time to think and pray. There is little else you can do when you are sick but to think and pray. You’re likely stuck in bed or on the couch all day. You could watch TV, but it would probably give you a headache before long. So besides sleeping, there’s really not much else to do than to think and to pray. Today I had the opportunity to think and to pray quite a bit (along with sorting some files and pictures on my computer, for which I am also grateful). I had the opportunity to talk with the Creator of all things more than I usually do on a given day. For that I am thankful.
You see, it is so easy to look at what’s wrong in our life. Granted, this fallen world brings a lot of unpleasant and uncomfortable circumstances. However, with an eternal perspective the troubles of our present fade in the light of our connection to Christ. A focus on eternity allows us to see the significance of each moment God has granted to us, and the finitude of our hurts and pains.
When we see God in every moment, we find the fragments of joy in our brokenness.
How has God bless you today?
It’s hard to think of a time like that, isn’t it? We’re really good at remembering the horrible timing of foul events in our lives. We may actually enjoy it; complaining about our dreadful circumstances to gain the attention and sympathy of others. Yet, when it comes to finding bits of joy in our hurts, we’re much less capable. Actually, capable might not be the right word. Perhaps “willing” would be a better fit. We don’t like to find joy in our hurts because it is hard; we want our hurt to go away, not to think about how it might be a blessing. We blind ourselves from the potential blessing of our circumstances with the discomfort of our present. We are so easily narrow-focused.
It was easy for me to be narrow-focused today. I helped my friend Joel move yesterday and almost as soon as I got home I burned up with a fever and almost every muscle in my body ached. I tried to sleep but the fever made my head spin at a million miles an hour. I did get some sleep, but when I woke up, I still felt awful. Actually, as I am writing this blog I still don’t feel that great (Although, the fever is gone and my body doesn’t hurt as bad). I felt sick all day. I wanted so bad for the day just to be over and for the sickness to go away. Oh, by the way, for those of you who don’t know Joel is the other member of this blogspot. Actually, I haven’t told him I am sick yet. Joel, if you are reading this, you should take some cold FX so you don’t get sick too :P. Ok, back to the blog. When I woke up this morning, I realized how much this sickness was going to ruin my day. I had a whole bunch of work I wanted to get done at the church, people I wanted to get together with, and little errands I wanted to get done. None of these were so much as attempted, let alone accomplished. However, when I looked outside my window, my perspective changed a little.
You know how when you wake up in the morning there’s a certain kind of light you’re expecting to be coming through your window? You know, the certain tone and colors of the sunrise through the drapes of your bedroom window that change every season? Well, being as it’s April right now, I was expecting to wake up to the nice warm oranges and reds of a spring sunrise. Instead, I woke up to a violently bright sea of white and grey. It wasn’t because I was sick and now I was hallucinating (although, a part of me kind of wishes I was). It was because during the night we had 20 cm of SNOW! Did I mention that it’s April? Oh, not just April, it’s April 29th… almost MAY! A little late to be having snow don’t you think? But when my eyes finally adjusted to the blinding sunlight reflecting off the dunes of snow on my front yard, I realized how blessed I was with the timing of my sickness. I mean, honestly, could there have been a more convenient time to be sick? There was a ton of snow outside at the end of April which means the roads would be horrific. More than that, the blowing snow would have been like sandpaper against your face, and mixed with the cold and wind chill, would have been a dreadful way to start the day. So here I was sitting in my room staring at the April winter wonderland, and I realized that even if I was not sick, I would be stuck at home all day. So there’s the first part of the blessing.
The second blessing that comes with my sickness is the reality that it didn’t take place at some other significant time, like my grad weekend or during the completion of my final papers. If I had been sick on an occasion like those, I would have been so upset. Thankfully, that was not the case. I was conveniently sick not then, but today.
Finally, my sickness gave me time to think and pray. There is little else you can do when you are sick but to think and pray. You’re likely stuck in bed or on the couch all day. You could watch TV, but it would probably give you a headache before long. So besides sleeping, there’s really not much else to do than to think and to pray. Today I had the opportunity to think and to pray quite a bit (along with sorting some files and pictures on my computer, for which I am also grateful). I had the opportunity to talk with the Creator of all things more than I usually do on a given day. For that I am thankful.
You see, it is so easy to look at what’s wrong in our life. Granted, this fallen world brings a lot of unpleasant and uncomfortable circumstances. However, with an eternal perspective the troubles of our present fade in the light of our connection to Christ. A focus on eternity allows us to see the significance of each moment God has granted to us, and the finitude of our hurts and pains.
When we see God in every moment, we find the fragments of joy in our brokenness.
How has God bless you today?
8.4.10
To know the music
It’s all around us. In front of us. Behind us. In the air. In the ground. Yes, even within our own bodies. Yet, the funny thing is, we so easily miss it. I wonder why that is. Why is it so easy to miss? Some may say it is too quiet, but I don’t think that is the issue. Actually, If I’m going to be honest with you, I think it has much less to do with the volume and much more to do with our listening. In fact, I think that there are times when the volume is piercing and undeniable, and still we will go to the effort of blocking it out and ignoring it all together. And then, when it is quiet or perhaps even silent, we wonder why it isn’t louder instead of leaning in and listening carefully.
We don’t want to hear it until it is convenient. When things are going well, it’s mostly a nuisance. When things are going terrible, it’s never what we want to hear. When we are desperate we listen to everything else. Even when we are at the top of our game, at the peak of the mountain, we still go searching for something else to give us direction. Tell me, does it shock you like it shocks me that when our hopes and dreams come crashing down upon us we don’t know which direction to point our eyes and ears?
We begin listening to everything else, and it consumes us. It consumes us so much that we don’t even recognize the very thing which has always been all around us in every way. We may even fall so deep as to replace what should be heard with something entirely different, thinking the two are the exact same thing. And so I ask again, does it shock you?
It’s easy to miss. But you know, it’s also easy to see if you focus your attention. When you filter your attention on what is good, you will be able to see it; not only in the present, but in a way that you will know it was with you all along.
It’s not always loud. It’s not always audible. I empathize with you if you are in a place where you feel like you can’t hear it. Whether you are there or not, let me encourage you:
The silent symphony of God’s love is love without words, for words aren’t enough.
Eternal life...
... is to know the music
We don’t want to hear it until it is convenient. When things are going well, it’s mostly a nuisance. When things are going terrible, it’s never what we want to hear. When we are desperate we listen to everything else. Even when we are at the top of our game, at the peak of the mountain, we still go searching for something else to give us direction. Tell me, does it shock you like it shocks me that when our hopes and dreams come crashing down upon us we don’t know which direction to point our eyes and ears?
We begin listening to everything else, and it consumes us. It consumes us so much that we don’t even recognize the very thing which has always been all around us in every way. We may even fall so deep as to replace what should be heard with something entirely different, thinking the two are the exact same thing. And so I ask again, does it shock you?
It’s easy to miss. But you know, it’s also easy to see if you focus your attention. When you filter your attention on what is good, you will be able to see it; not only in the present, but in a way that you will know it was with you all along.
It’s not always loud. It’s not always audible. I empathize with you if you are in a place where you feel like you can’t hear it. Whether you are there or not, let me encourage you:
The silent symphony of God’s love is love without words, for words aren’t enough.
Eternal life...
... is to know the music
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