Redeeming the Christmas Story

This week I had a professor make quite the statement during his lecture. He looked at our class and in all seriousness said,

"I think the most Christian thing we could do is stop celebrating Christmas."

 I had been fervently nodding along with his lecture up to this point. Don't celebrate Christmas in order to be Christian? That seemed absurd, after all Christmas is a celebration of Jesus. It is a Christian holiday. Isn't it? However as I sat there and listened to him unravel what he meant, and reflected deeply on this holiday of Christmas, I realized just how secular it had become. The holiday meant to be a means of telling the story of Christ had become its own story.
No longer was the story of Christmas found in Luke 2 but in 'Twas the Night Before Christmas and Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. It's no secret that Christmas has become commercialized. Everyone knows it. Charlie Brown and Linus have been trying to remind us of the real meaning of Christmas for years, but few are listening. Yet I still do not want to agree with my professor that we should stop celebrating Christmas. My hesitancy to agree with him is not a result of my denial that Christmas has been commercialized, nor is it a shrugging of my shoulders saying that's simply the way it's going to be and there's nothing we can do about it. I cling to Christmas because I am living into a different Christmas story, the real Christmas story.
Now if you expect me to break into Luke 2 here in good ol' Linus fashion, that wouldn't be a bad idea, but that's not what I'm going to do. See I think if we're really going to live into the story of Christmas, we need to look beyond the manger, we need to look into the heart of Christ.  The early church had one of the most beautiful ways of expressing Christmas in their hymn of Christ presented in Philippians 2. Here the story of Christmas takes form:

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. -Philippians 2:5-11(emphasis mine).

Before Christmas became a story of wanting, of shopping, of stress, it was a story of humility. Jesus became nothing. Jesus became a servant. Christmas is about humility, about emptying ourselves, not for our glory, not so we can mark charitable giving off our holiday to-do lists, but that at the name of Jesus every knee may bow.
During the discussion, my professor acknowledged that maybe seeking to celebrate Christmas the right way was a better option than skipping it entirely, and he invited us to think about how we can do that. I believe the answer is as simple as it is complicated.

We choose to live into the story of Jesus.

This is more than keeping Christ in Christmas, for this far surpasses bumper stickers and an insistence on saying Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays. What is involved here is humbling ourselves, not just during the Christmas season but all throughout the year. If our focus is emptying ourselves as Christ did, when Christmas comes we can rejoice for the Lord we serve came and is coming again! We might be in a fallen world with brokenness and pain, but hope is here, for Christ has come and will come once again to restore us! This truth that pervades the Christmas story starkly contrasts the story the world has written for itself. The joy we receive by entering into the humility Christ offers presents an alternative reality to the world around us, the true reality marked by hope. However, the only way to present this truth is to enter into Christ's story of humility.  This is not easy. The same professor that suggested we skip Christmas often reminds us of how difficult the Christian life truly is, and to these statements my head nods quite a bit. Entering into the story of Jesus, one of humility and complete surrender to God takes obedience and a commitment to living holy as He is holy. It's an emptying of oneself. It's hard, but it's beautiful. It's the Christmas story at its finest. Mary, Joseph and the shepherds aren't the only characters in this story. We can all find our place beside the manger if we step into the story of humility God offers us. When we do this, we redeem the ever important Christmas story and point the world to the Savior that came and is coming again.

Recognizing our Disease

I'm jumping on the bandwagon with this entry, and I'm completely aware of this. However, I'm not ashamed. The blogs that have been covering my facebook newsfeed lately all revolve around a topic that I feel needs to be addressed. People are obviously thinking about it. I know I am.

That topic? Singleness.

Not just your normal singleness though. The singleness of young Christian women. All throughout evangelical circles, many young women are graduating from their private Christian colleges without that much desired MRS. Degree. Rings by spring are simply not happening for all of us. As a college senior about to graduate from one of these Christian colleges, I am very familiar with this new trend, this singleness that is often viewed as a disease in need of curing, and I am very, very familiar with the various cures suggested. They sound like this:

"I trust that God will bring you a husband one day."

"Keep waiting, when the timing is right he will come."

And my personal favorite, "Always remember that you are filet mignon, so never settle for a cheap hamburger."

All of these phrases have been spoken to me several times throughout my college career. Now I am not critiquing the people who said them. I know they all had wonderful intentions of encouraging me to be patient and hold out for the husband God might possibly have in my future. However, as I listened to the phrases and nodded and smiled politely, thanking them for their kind words, something was stirred up in me, something I have been working to squish. While these well-intending members of my church were trying to encourage patience in me, all their words were doing were reminding me of my singleness, making it a problem in me that would one day be solved. A disease that was not chronic, but would one day have a cure.

They were allowing me to become discontent.

See, us single evangelicals do have a disease, and we need to recognize it. But it's not our singleness. It's a disease shared by singles and non-singles alike.

It's our sinful nature.

My ability to easily become discontented with the way my life is, to desire more than I have, to not find fulfillment in God alone, that is my disease. Not my singleness. Discontentment transcends my singleness, for the cure is not in the man I may one day marry. I do not learn to become content by entering a relationship. The cure is God alone.

In Philippians 4:12-13, Paul says this

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.

That last verse, "I can do all this through him who gives me strength," is widely quoted and used by many to teach that God makes all things possible and gives us the strength to do all He requires us to do. While all of this is true, the verse takes on a very specific meaning in its context. For God is giving Paul the strength to be content. Contentment goes against our very nature, it is a sin that needs to be overcome, and this is only possible through God, the one in which were are to find our contentment.

Instead of falling into the trap of discontentment, of finding ourselves in a constant state of waiting for that man everyone tells us will one day come, we need to be filling ourselves with God that He may give us the strength to be content in all circumstances. Not to make us better prepared for our possible future husbands, that is not the point. A relationship is not the cure to our discontentment. We will struggle against being discontent even in marriage. Instead we take up this battle against our discontentment because it is part of our sinful nature, it is part of what separates us from God.

Maybe it's time we start being thankful for singleness. It can bring us face to face with our tendency to become discontent. It can cause us to fall on our knees and learn to depend on God's strength to overcome our sinful nature. Not so we can one day be the perfect wife, but so that we might today love and serve the perfect God.

At His Feet

Prayer is hard. Especially, the art of silent prayer, the kind where you sit still and turn your mind off to try to hear what God's saying. It's so easy to interject with random thoughts that don't really apply, like the idea that something God just taught us would make a really good facebook status. Maybe I'm the only one, but that one gets me often. All of a sudden I'm turning what God is teaching me into a catchy phrase to stick on my wall. Don't get me wrong, I think facebook is a wonderful platform for sharing what God's doing in your life in order to encourage others, but prayer has to be about more than facebook.*
Today, when I was sitting in one of my prayer/meditation times working on ignoring the random facebook statuses popping into my head, I realized how caught up in the presence of God I was. It was like sitting with my dad. I was having a conversation with God, one where I was doing most of the listening and less of the talking. I opened my eyes and looked up confused as to where I was. My dorm room had vanished completely from my thoughts. It was incredible. The God of the universe had allowed me to enter His presence. He had spoken with me. I found my heart saying, "Lord, don't let me leave." I did not ask for permission to stay, for I knew that had already been granted. However, I also knew that my human tendency would be to leave God's presence. I would get distracted by my homework assignments, work and friendships. I would leave. Not because God told me it was time to go, but because I had decided something else was more important. At that moment, sitting on my dorm room floor, I saw that reality, and I wanted God to keep that from happening. So I asked Him not to let me leave.
See, I spent the last week leaving His presence. He would draw me in to Him whenever I sought Him during my morning devotions or chapel, but I would leave as soon as my day got too busy. I spent last week discouraged and preoccupied with the stresses of life. I ignored the blessings God was pouring into my week and focused on the negative. My heart was far from where it needed to be; I had left His presence. Today I realized that I don't want to leave anymore.
After spending time in silence, I opened one of my old devotionals and read a devotion entitled, "Prayer Changes You." It ended by saying,

"You cannot be intimately exposed to God's heart and remain complacent."(Henry Blackaby, Experiencing God Day by Day, p 293).  

Prayer is meant to change us. It is meant to expose us to the heart of God that we might desire to become more like Him and see how far from that we truly are. Prayer draws us near to God in a way that makes us dissatisfied with the world in which we live. This world is not enough, we must be near God, we must be with Him. No longer is it okay to simply dedicate a quick time of morning devotions to Him, now we must dedicate our entire lives to Him. Prayer is about deciding to live each day, the entire day, at the feet of God. It is about refusing to leave.



*Just so we're clear, prayer is also about more than blog entries, but I could not help but share what God is doing in my life. I am always encouraged to hear how God is moving in the lives of others, and want to make sure I'm not keeping the grace He is showing me a secret! 

More Than a Steeple

Sometimes I like to pretend I'm an incredible food blogger. Like right now. I'm sitting on my kitchen counter, waiting for the oven timer to go off so that I can taste the gluten free, dairy free blueberry crumble muffins I'm attempting. Baking without wheat or dairy is a challenge, but what's the point of cooking if you can't lick the spoon afterwards, let alone eat the finished product?

My pretending to be a food blogger wouldn't be complete without a picture!

Though it would seem the baking adventures created by my new dietary regulations would provide for ample blogging material, I am well aware that I am no foody. I am also aware that baking is my hobby, not my passion. For that reason, I will continue to only pretend to be a food blogger, and will instead remain a storyteller and theologian. After all my passions are for people and the restoration of the family, and as much as chocolate chip cookies help smooth out family issues, only God can truly mend the family.
So, with that thought, let me tell you one last story from Ukraine. I realize that I haven't blogged about every detail, but I am about to head back to school and so my mind is switching focus. It's time to wrap up the summer chapter of my life and focus on my senior year of college. With that said, here is my final story from Ukraine.
It ends and begins with a boy named Vitya. When my team arrived in Bushcha we pulled into the home of one woman and her fourteen year old son, Vitya. It was with them that we were to live for the five days we spent in the village. Because I am usually quite good with kids, I was determined to connect with Vitya in some way. However, once again, language stood between us, so I did the one thing I could think of and pulled out my photo album. Per suggestion of my fellow teammates, I had brought with me a scrapbook of pictures of my family and had practiced phrases such as, "This is my sister Sarah." (Це мене сестра Sarah). As I showed him the pictures, we worked together to describe them in his broken English and my pitiful attempts at Ukrainian. The minute I finished going through my scrapbook he quickly went looking for a photo album of his own, and then proceeded to show me pictures of his family. The ice had been broken. As the week progressed Vitya and I had several other bonding experiences. We played Uno with my other team members, something I found highly entertaining as it meant we were playing a game in English, Ukrainian and Spanish. Vitya also became my own personal Ukrainian tutor, teaching me lessons at home and then testing me in front of the other kids at camp. I would help him with his English, and as he knew more English than I knew Ukrainian, his favorite phrase was, "I win!" Whenever he didn't understand what I was trying to say he would look at me and say, "What?" When I didn't understand him, which happened much more often, I would turn to him and say, "Шо?" Interacting with Vitya and observing him often made me think. I thought about the families in the village and the influence of the Orthodox church on the families and the people within the village. I wondered about Vitya's future and what would happen to him in a few years in a culture where 49% of all men die of alcohol related causes. Again I wondered how would the church impact this young boy's life? Would it do anything at all?
See, in every Ukrainian village there stands a Ukrainian Orthodox Church. It's gold steeples tower over the small, wooded houses of the village people. The church is esteemed as one of the highest authorities in the village. Our interactions with the church in Bushcha was interesting to say the least. The priest did not approve of what we were doing. Believing we were a cult, he informed the people of the village that their children were not to come to our program, and those children that did attend would not be permitted to come to confession. As news travels faster in a small Ukrainian village than it does in the smallest towns in America, all the children were aware of this. One day Vitya was asking me if I would ever come back, when I didn't give a definite yes, he said he thought I would come back to Ukraine, but not to Bushcha, for the priest didn't like us.
Is that the role of the church? To ban people from confession? To call another Christ serving, Bible believing denomination a cult? All the while watching the people in its community struggle with poverty and dying of alcoholism? Watching families fall apart and children grow up without fathers or mothers? How often do church's in America do the same thing? In many American towns there is a church on every corner, but can you tell? If the church was not there would it make a difference? The church is not a building. It is a community of believers dedicated to serving Christ, therefore it should be bearing much fruit. Lives should be changing. People should be embracing personal relationships with Jesus Christ. Relationships that change the way they live. Relationships that change the way they interact with their families. As I watched young Vitya, a boy who became like a little brother to me, I could not help but wonder where he would be in a few years. Would he be like the other young men in his community, drinking in front of the culture center every night? Or would the message brought by our team sink into his heart? Would the future work of the mission in that area continue to impact him? Would he be able to embrace a relationship with Jesus that transforms his life and the lives of those around him? Though I do not know the answer to these questions, I pray and hope the answer is yes.

Me and Vitya. 

B-E-A-UTIFUL

When returning from a 2 week trip to a foreign country, it's amazing how much there is to write about. Deciding the topic of this next blog is proving to be quite difficult. At the rate I'm going, I'll be done blogging about my trip to Ukraine by Christmas. Today, I want to paint a picture of Ukraine for you. A picture filled with the beauty that so captures the hearts and minds of every Ukrainian I met.
Women walk through parks and grocery stores dressed to the nines. They wear heels wherever they go and are always in makeup with hair done to perfection. They are embracing the Ukrainian concept of beauty. Inside the houses, rugs and textiles are placed everywhere, not simply on the floors but on the walls as well. Icons and embroidery are found in almost every home as Ukrainian interior design seeks to be beautiful. Even the churches grab hold of this concept of beauty. The orthodox cathedrals stand tall, painted in beautiful, vibrant colors. The tops of their steeples are adorned with gold, shining over the city. When Ukrainians seek to give a blessing, their words flow from their mouths seamlessly, and even those who cannot understand what is being said know that it is beautiful. When seeking to commend a child on his/her artwork it is not common to say, "That looks great!" or "That's awesome!" No, when complimenting a child on their little picture frame decorated with pasta you say, "Це дужа гарна" or, "That's very beautiful." The word beautiful, which is saved for very special occasions in America, is used daily in Ukraine. Everything is гарна (beautiful).
At first glance, this obsession with beauty might seem to be a struggle with vanity. I asked about this several times, wondering if the self-esteems of Ukrainian women were being harmed by this beauty craze. However, this did not seem to be the case. Those I talked to about the concept of beauty simply recognized it as a part of their culture. As it turned out, it would be a part of the Ukrainian culture that God would use to create an opportunity of ministry.
There is a group of women in my church who make dresses, simple little sundresses, to donate to girls in need. As I was preparing for my trip they gave me a bag of 47 dresses for me to distribute. While we were in the village of Bushcha, it was clear that the fascination with beauty was not limited to the city walls. Though the clothes and hair styles were not as refined, little girls still came to camp in dresses and children refused to sit on the ground as it was too dirty. The gates in front of homes were painted in bright colors. Even in a place where there is no sewage system, people strived for beauty. It was here, in this village as well as a neighboring village that I was able to distribute the dresses. I gave dresses to girls who have most likely never had a brand new dress of their own. As I looked at each little girl and gave her a dress in the name of Jesus, explaining that she was a beautiful daughter of God and that He loved her very much, I could see their eyes lighting up. One little girl, still not grasping the idea that the dress was hers, looked at it and said, "Це дужа гарна!" When she realized that it was meant for her, she was even more amazed. Inside each dress pocket was a handmade card, equally as beautiful as the dresses which said, "Jesus loves you." Though I was nervous about distributing these dresses, as distribution is always tricky, I trusted that God had a plan. I did not know about the Ukrainian desire for beauty, but God did. I did not realize how much power could lie within a simple sundress, but God did.  Watching Him reach the hearts of these little girls through the gift of dresses was an amazing experience. That was truly дужа гарна.

When Reality Hits

There is one problem with blogging and journaling that I have discovered; it makes it all too easy to discover when you lie to yourself. See, in my last entry I wrote about the beauty of leaving your expectations behind that you may truly embrace whatever it is God has in store for you. I truly believed that I had given my expectations for this trip to God. I soon discovered, however, that I had multiple unconscious expectations. I had this idealized view of what a call to missions must look like. I anticipated an automatic connection with the country, a feeling of belongingness that would cause me to realize that this is where I was truly meant to live. I believed that I would look into the eyes of the children I was working with and feel such a deep connection that the only logical explanation would be a call to serve there and work with them. I assumed that everything would fall into place perfectly and the clarity that I would receive would be so great that there would no longer be a doubt in my mind that missions in Ukraine is what I was created for. The idealized view of a missions calling was shattered the moment the plane landed in Kiev.
We got off the plane, grabbed our baggage and headed to meet Misha, one of the members of the Free Methodist Mission based in Rivne. As I attempted to greet him, I realized the limits of my Ukrainian, and my hesitancy to even attempt to speak it. There is something highly intimidating about trying to speak to someone in their native tongue when you've only been practicing it in your dorm room. As we traveled to Rivne, I listened to Julie, a former American missionary to Ukraine, point to all the various apartments she had lived in throughout her 10 years as a career missionary, and I began to panic. How did she do it? How did she, as a single woman in her 20s, live on her own in a foreign country? How on earth was I supposed to do that?
This was not the only time my concept of what it would look like to be called to missions was completely disproved. Often I found myself in situations where I felt completely out of place. It was the middle of the trip when it truly hit me. We were in Bushcha, a small rural village that looks like it was taken straight from the pages of Jack and the Beanstalk. We were living with a young boy, Vitya and his mother in a small home surrounded by vegetable gardens, a cow, some chickens and pigs, and complete with an outhouse that would serve as our toilet for five days. Here we were doing a day camp program with the children. I had been told I would lead crafts, and assumed that explaining the instructions of each craft while someone interpreted for me, would be my only task. I was wrong. They expected me to be a team leader, assigning me four children to lead through the various activities. I had no idea what to do. I was excited to begin doing the camp. I love working with children. It's what I'm good at. It's my comfort zone. However, on that day I had no idea how to work with those children. I found myself staring at them when I normally would have been striking up conversation to get to know them better. I could not explain the rules of the games to them as I didn't even know what it was we were supposed to be doing.

This face captures the confusion I felt all day long. 

By the end of the first day, I felt like a complete failure. All I had seemed capable of doing was smiling. As I journaled later that day, I cried out to God asking Him for help as I had no idea what to do. I couldn't speak to those children and that was all I wanted. Gone were the fantasized pictures of an automatic connection and perfect clarity. The difficult reality of a call to missions had come crashing down upon me.
Though God began to teach me different ways of communicating, and provided me with strength even when I felt my weakest, the challenges continued throughout the trip. As the end of the 2 weeks neared, I realized that I was still unclear of what I believe God was calling me to do. I was scared of what a life of missions work might look like, and though my language skills had improved slightly (meaning I learned about 3 more words) I still felt completely inadequate in that department. However, there was one very clear moment of peace, where I realized that being called to missions isn't exactly a perfect process. I was talking to Julie, and asked her one simple question.

Did you ever feel like there's no way on earth you could possibly do this?

Her answer was a clear and strong, yes. I realized then that God doesn't always provide us with those lightbulb moments of clarity. Being called to serve Him is rarely easy and simple. It is often difficult and scary and completely confusing. Instead of a journey of "ah ha!" moments it is more often one marked by tears and complete surrender as our strengths are taken from us and we are forced to rely completely on God and His power. Though I did not receive the picturesque clarity I was hoping for, there are a few things I have learned. I love God and serving Him. I want to spend the rest of my life telling others about Him. The children in Ukraine captured my heart, and I miss them dearly. There is great need within the families of Ukraine. If God calls me to go and live in Ukraine on my own, He will give me the strength I need to do so. Finally, a call to missions is an incredible adventure that can be described most accurately by one verse that I took for granted for far too many years,

Each time he said, "My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness." So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. -2 Corinthians 12:9 (NLT).

The Beauty of Packing Light

Today's the day. After months of preparation and anticipation, I'm leaving for Ukraine. Honestly, I have no idea what I'm getting myself into. It's exciting and incredibly nerve racking, but it's time and I'm ready... I think. Well, I'm at least packed. We were asked to pack very lightly, bringing only a cary on. This part of preparation I thought was going to be difficult, but as I researched packing methods and began compiling a packing list, I realized that packing light is actually quite exhilarating. There is something very freeing about living like a minimalist. Though I had to pack and repack to get my small carry on and backpack to weigh only 26 pounds, I managed. This morning as I was doing my devotions, I realized that packing lightly has to do with more than simply rolling t-shirts and limiting yourself to only 2 bags.
As I was reading the story of Thomas, you know the man who will live infamously in history as the "doubter," I realized that not only did I need to leave some of my clothing home, but also some of my expectations. I needed to have blind faith and trust. It is so easy to go into trips like these and imagine what is going to happen. I'm a daydreamer and I like to conjure up wild imaginations of what my life may hold. However, when I do this I often get in trouble. See, my planning and dreaming means that I try to take control of my life. I loose faith. The connection between this and the story of Thomas is fairly small, but hopefully it'll make as much sense to you as it does to me. See, after Jesus shows Thomas His scars He says,

Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.

Jesus is telling Thomas that faith is meant to be blind. It is meant to be completely trusting. I can dream up ideas and plans, creating for myself expectations, but that is not living with a blind, trusting faith. That is me taking control. As Thomas hoped to see proof of the resurrection, so I am hoping for certain outcomes. Packing light spiritually means letting go of these expectations. It means going to Ukraine completely trusting in whatever plan God has and realizing that I don't need to see it. This kind of packing light is even more freeing and exhilarating than the first. When God takes control, it's a beautiful thing.

Lessons from a Ukrainian Bible

Learning a language is an interesting task. When I found out I would be going to Ukraine for a missions trip, I knew I was going to have to try to master at least a few basic phrases in Ukrainian. So I did what everyone does when they need to learn something, and googled it. I successfully found multiple websites that would teach me Ukrainian online, for free. So I got started. I learned the entire alphabet (yeah, it's not the same one we have) and began learning how to say things like, "Hello" and "What's your name?" I also purchased the one Ukrainian phrase book in all of Barnes and Noble. Apparently Ukraine isn't a hot travel destination. Though this book has been extremely helpful, I got bored looking through its pages over and over. So, I developed a language learning method of my own. One that I found thoroughly entertaining. I began reading the Bible in Ukrainian. 

With my phrase book in hand, Bible Gateway opened in one tab and Google Translate in another, I began to translate passages of scripture. Bible Gateway has this wonderful feature where you can put two versions of the Bible parallel to each other, so I would look at both the NRSV and the Ukrainian Bible and compare. Learning Ukrainian this way meant that I could think about Ukraine and theology at the same time! It was wonderful and I learned a lot about both. 

One passage that I worked on was Micah 6. The verse 

He has shown you, O Man, what is good and what it is the Lord requires of you, only to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with the Lord your God. -Micah 6:8

is one that I have prayed and clung to as a way of reminding myself of what truly matters. I love this verse and the way God has spoken to me through it. If you're anything like me you have seen these words as instructions on how to live. As I read this verse in Ukrainian, it took on a whole new depth of meaning. Here's what it looks like (isn't Ukrainian fun to look at?)

Було тобі виявлено, о людино, що добре, і чого пожадає від тебе Господь, нічого, а тільки чинити правосуддя, і милосердя любити, і з твоїм Богом ходити сумирно.

The word, "пожадає," is in the place of the English word, "requires." However, it does not mean requires. It is translated as desires. When I saw this, I was immediately reminded of Psalm 37:4

Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart. 

I remember the first time God really spoke to me about this verse. He showed me that this verse is not turning Him into a magical genie who gives you whatever you want as long as you delight in Him, but rather that when He becomes your everything your desires become the ones He has for you. From that point on, my prayer became that I would learn to delight in Him. This would allow my desires to be replaced by His. It is my desire to get married, so I pray to make sure God wants me to desire a husband. I desire to adopt children, and pray to make sure that's God's desire for my life as well. The list goes on. However, as I read the Ukrainian translation of Micah 6:8, I was struck by the realization that God's desires for my life go a little bit deeper than my future family. Though I believe that God cares about every area of my life, I'm starting to understand that when one delights in the Lord, earthly desire like marriage and adopted children become replaced with what it is He truly desires of me, "to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with Him." For that is truly what God desires of His people.

The word desire is a strong one. Stronger than I think many people realize. It suggests a deep longing. Though I still want to get married one day, and would love to have a few adopted children, and I still want to go to Grad School and Seminary, and I am still hoping for all sorts of things, God is showing me how to make them basic wants and not desires. As I learn to delight in Him, He is turning my desires, the things I pine after, into doing justice and loving mercy and walking humbly with Him.

It's amazing what one can learn from a Ukrainian Bible :).  

Remember

Bombs go off. Gunfire is heard. Campuses cancel classes. The T is shut down. Boston is on lockdown as police and FBI search for the men who have decided to end the lives of so many others. Eight miles outside the city is Eastern Nazarene College, a private Christian college. There the students pray. There they sing, and they say "our God is greater." Still they cannot ignore it, that question that plagues the city. Though many hashtag, "pray for Boston," many are asking, "Where is God?" Christians look to each other and through tears ask, "where is God?" Many who do not believe, turn to Christians, and as tears cascade down their faces ask, "where is your God?" It's not an easy question, and it's not a new one.
When crisis hits, we want to know where God is. We want to know why. Why do these things happen? If God is such a loving and gracious God with unfathomable power, why does He let these things happen? These questions are ones that never seem to have very good answers. In Psalm 42, the Psalmist is crying out to God in agony. He says,

"My tears have been my food day and night while all day long people say to me, 'Where is your God?'"(v. 3). 

The city of Boston is crying out, and many are looking at Christians and asking, "Where is your God?" The interesting thing is that the Psalmist doesn't answer them. Instead he begins to remember.
See, I think the answer to "Where is God?" Is that He's here. Boston is not a Godforsaken city. He is here, and He cares deeply about what's going on. The God I serve, the one you read about in the Bible, is a passionate God. When people do wrong, He calls them out. When He gets angry at unrighteousness, He flips tables over. When his friend dies, He breaks down and weeps. This is the God I serve. As I watch the news and I see the pain on people's faces, as people approach me crying and asking, "Where is God?" I cry back as I say, "He's right here." He's on that sidewalk crying over the bodies. He's on that campus sitting with the students as they mourn. He's in all of these places, and He's crying out, "Remember!" Oh, Boston, remember! Remember God and all He has done, and all He is capable of. Remember how He died for you. Remember how He embraced suffering for you.
The Psalmist ends this chapter by saying,

"Why am I so depressed? Why this turmoil within me? Put your hope in God, for I will still praise Him, my Savior and my God." (v. 11).

 The Psalmist could still praise God, though he was caught up in so much turmoil, he praised God, because he chose to remember. So remember, amidst all the chaos and pain remember what God has done. Remember that He is a God who is here and who is hurting with us. Put your hope in Him.

Distracted During Holy Week

It's Holy Week, a time of remembering Jesus' death and resurrection. A time to dwell upon what the sacrifice of Jesus truly means in our own lives and in the lives of those around us. However, this world has been distracted. During a week I would expect my facebook newsfeed to be filled with Bible verses reminding people of how much Jesus loves them, of how He died to save them, I am instead reading debate after debate regarding homosexuality. We have become distracted. We have lost sight of what it is Jesus did for us on the cross that first Good Friday. 
You see, Holy Week should be a time of realizing how sinful we all are. When we find ourselves face to face with the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, our guilt becomes something we cannot ignore. When I read the account of Jesus being whipped and mocked, led up a hill and then nailed to a cross, the entire time being fully innocent, I cannot help but be overcome with the realization that I deserved that punishment. I deserve death. I have messed up so many times in my life. I have hurt people. I have hurt God. Yet, Jesus died for me. He went to the cross; He stayed on the cross. All because He loves me and wants a relationship with me. 
What I have found interesting about this particular Holy Week is how quick we have been to point out the sin of others. The politics surrounding this issue seem to somehow make it a "bigger" sin. Yet it's not. All of our sins sent Jesus to that cross. Everything from that time I told my sister I hated her to the murder of innocent children. Jesus died for it all! Why are we pointing fingers? It's time that we all fell at the foot of the cross and humbled ourselves, knowing that not one of us deserves life and yet Jesus offers it. The sacrifice made on the cross was not simply made for homosexuality. Jesus died for more than that. He died for all of us, and then he rose again for all of us. He invites everyone to abandon their sins at the cross and follow Him. Instead of debating people into a corner, let's start inviting them to life. Let's remind people of what Holy Week is really about; that it is a time to realize that we are sinful and dead on our own, but that we can give our sins to the Lord and accept life!