Friday, October 27, 2006

amen

i repent, i repent of my pursuit of america's dream
i repent, i repent of living like i deserve anything
of my house, my fence, my kids, my wife
in our suburb where we're safe and white
i am wrong and of these things i repent

i repent, i repent of parading my liberty
i repent. i repent of paying for what i get for free
and for the way i believe that i am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
i am wrong and of these things i repent

i repent judging by a law that even i can't keep
of wearing righteousness like a disguise
to see through the planks in my own eyes

i repent, i repent of trading truth for false unity
i repent, i repent of confusing peace and idolatry
of caring more of what they think than what i know of what we need
by domesticating you until you look just like me
i am wrong and of these things i repent

--Derek Webb

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

...i shall again praise Him...


Psalm 42

To the choirmaster. A Maskil of the Sons of Korah.


1As a deer pants for flowing streams,
so pants my soul for you, O God.
2My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?
3My tears have been my food
day and night,
while they say to me continually,
"Where is your God?"
4These things I remember,
as I pour out my soul:
how I would go with the throng
and lead them in procession to the house of God
with glad shouts and songs of praise,
a multitude keeping festival.

5Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation 6and my God.

My soul is cast down within me;
therefore I remember you
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,
from Mount Mizar.
7Deep calls to deep
at the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your waves
have gone over me.
8By day the LORD commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.

9I say to God, my rock:
"Why have you forgotten me?
Why do I go mourning
because of the oppression of the enemy?"
10As with a deadly wound in my bones,
my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me continually,
"Where is your God?"

11Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.


I need more hope. I need to remember the power of my God. Brother Andrew said that thinking people need the most hope. I have been thinking too much. It is time to learn to trust, time to rest in hope of my Savior. The world gets me downcast and I forget the days I would lead a procession of rejoicing into the house of my God. But when I remember Him and all that He has worked on my behalf, how can I ever dare to doubt? Where is my God? He is right here...He holds me in the palm of His hand. What can happen to me that's not for my good? What can happen to those I love that doesn't come directly from the loving hand of a sovereign God? Oh Lord, I believe. Help Thou my unbelief!

Saturday, October 21, 2006

life just keeps spinning...

You might notice that today seems to be a huge influx of postings. That's because it is. Some of the posts that have been lingering around as drafts for awhile were finally published. I just really felt like writing today...

This afternoon miriam and I drove up a mountian and then scrambled up to the top where we picked wildflowers and breathed in the silence. All the cars and houses lay far below us and I marvelled at all the hub-bub going on below while we just stood up there and dreamed of heaven. I needed that. I needed the perspective a mountian brings...because I've been getting lost in all the details lately. I needed to be called back to the big picture of God's infinite glory.

I am glad for mountains and friends and musicians who make me dream bigger.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

friday the 13th

It's been a week of falling apart. I don't remember how to live a life that's so busy with things that just don't seem to matter as much. I miss small hands around my neck. I miss singing as I run up and down the hall getting things together for the next project. I miss driving to the projects with a van full of kids and then crying as we left them. I miss praying hard. I miss crying hard. I miss loving more than I thought was possible.

It's exactly the sort of night where I could laugh or cry at any moment. It's the perfect sort of night for dinner with Miriam and Danielle and Rachel. We all put on heels and jackets and listen to the perfect love song as we drive to the restaurant. We ask the waiter for free refills on everything and eat off each other's plates without asking. It's nice to know that's ok. We talk about life and love and random memories from before we knew each other and take pictures of our drinks and our feet.

We run into our rooms and change as fast as possible. Outside Slight, someone's playing music. I dance down the hill in my favorite tennis shoes. It's the kind of night when I feel everything a little more deeply and life hurts because it's so beautiful--it's funny how the more beautiful life gets the more desperately I want heaven.

We hug the squishy tree outside Del Taco and Rachel writes me a love note on a piece of the bark. On the way to Skid Row, I think about dying. It wouldn't be so bad, I decide. My heart is full of hurt for the people I'm about to talk to and the people I've left in Tulsa and Bellingham and Santa Clarita. There's so many big and little things going wrong just in my world. I close my eyes and see the mural at Comanche--"HOPE."

God is sovereign over the blue state of my heart and Rachel and I talk to a Christian named Chris who loves Keith Green and Tozer and knows his Bible so deeply and passionately that I regret wasting so much time in not hungrily studying it the way I ought to. I am encouraged...when I thought I was coming to Skid Row to encourage others.

We drive back to school through a thunderstorm. I love that. I love that about God--how He orchestrates the weather in such glorious ways. I love that He sent that thunderstorm when my soul needed a reminder of His power. I love that He made my Friday the 13th a very lucky day...if by luck you mean sovereignly ordained. I love that every day is my lucky day because the God of heaven holds me in His hand.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

outreach week...

Last week I went back to one of my heart's homes. It's amazing how much of God you can see in one short week...through all-but-orphaned children, through the treasure of the Word, through God-centered preaching, through serving with others, through other people, through sunsets over New Mexico, through sovereignty worked out in continuous small miracles...

Two experiences stand out among all that happened in that crazy short week. Both happened on Wednesday. I was picking up kids at Apache, and only Qwue-Qwue was in my van as we circled the apartment complex. She noticed the writing on my left wrist. "What does that say?" It's a one word reminder to myself--"Love."

"Who do you love, Qwue-Qwue?" I twist around so I can look into her eyes.

"I love God." Tears come to my eyes...you'd have to know her story to understand completely. Miriam says later that we don't know what a 7-year-old born on Skid Row whose parents deal drugs would look like as a Christian...but it might look a lot like Qwue-Qwue. She goes on to tell me, "Yesterday I was trying to read my little Bible but my mommy came and told me to put it away." How does a 7-year-old follow Christ when her own mother is upset when she reads her Bible? When her mom's boyfriend hits her?

On the way back to Apache, I had three kids in my car--siblings, Jessica, Myella and Anthony. They were upset that they couldn't stay for Mission Memorization with some of their friends. But we couldn't get ahold of their mom, so we had to take them back. Most parents at the projects wouldn't even care and might not even notice, but we want to keep them informed any way. When we got to their home, their mom was there, so they asked her if they could go back with me. She agreed and they went inside to get coats. I have a brief phone conference and we're unsure if it's okay for them to come back as they'll miss dinner and most of homework help time. Finally we decide it's okay, and they're back in my van, much happier than they were on our ride to the apartments. I ask them what they like about Kid's Club, the VBS/tutoring program they've been coming to. "I like the songs and the games and learning about Jesus," Jessica answers.

"What do you know about Jesus?" I ask.

"Um...He died on the cross."

I pause to see if there's more and then ask, "Do you know why He died?" She doesn't, so I explain the entire gospel as best I can. The car ride flies past. Finally I try to sum it up for her: "Jesus died so we could go to heaven and be with God when we die, and so we can turn away from our sin and toward Him."

She gets it. "I want to turn away from sin and follow Him." I am amazed at God's sovereign plan for this drive that my flesh had been kicking against. He gave me that one-on-one time so that Jessica could understand the cross. His plans for my days are so much grander than anything I create.