Here's the first video I made for our Swaziland trip. I'm currently working on putting together something more full.
For more stories about Swaziland, check out part 1 and part 2.
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Monday, October 22, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Swaziland (part 2).
(This is part 2 of this post. I split it up because long blog posts are annoying. And I hate being annoying.)
It's funny how forgetful we are. I came back on a Wednesday. The next day, new students arrived at work. And I've been going ever since. The few conclusions I made have been buried by two months of doing, creating, teaching, leading. After chewing on his questions these last couple of weeks, I remembered.
The Swazi people believe in prayer. Like, really believe it. If they pray something, they know it's going to happen. Period. Full stop.
Most of our days were spent doing home visits. We'd go to the homesteads of families in the church (and several neighbors), bring some gifts of food and hygiene items, share some scripture and pray with them. It was awkward. Swazis are difficult to read, so half the time, it felt like we were being invasive and rude. Pastor Maziya had to continually comfort us that people were happy and appreciated our presence.
Anyway. On one home visit, we talked to guy that explained his faith in prayer. He said that he rarely knew where his next meal was coming from. He was incredibly poor. No family to take care of him. No job prospects. No good land. And yet, he had never gone hungry. He had never gone a day without some kind of food. When he would pray, God would answer that prayer.
Boom. Do I have that faith?
Perhaps a more telling story of this was on our very first home visit. His name is Sofiso. He was a deacon and leader in the church and lived on his homestead with his mother and sister. When we visited with him, we shared some verse and talked about life for about 30 or 40 minutes. He and his mother worked at the hospital in town. In fact, his mother should be coming home from work any minute and we could meet her, too. We decided to stick around a while longer.
She was probably 20 minutes late when we decided we should probably move on. So we asked Sofiso what we could pray for with him. He said that his brother was very sick. He was in the hospital where his family worked, but they had been faithfully praying for him and he was getting better. In fact, they were hoping he would come home some time that week, so we could come back and meet him, too. We prayed something fierce for him. These people see enough death. God would heal this man.
As we walked down the driveway, Sofiso got a call. It was his mother. His brother had just died.
Literally as we were praying for this man's recovery, God was taking him home. Down to the minute.
Sofiso didn't cry. Swazis don't. Our team did.
Later that week, we were blessed to be able to provide most of the funeral costs. It was too close to our hearts for us not to be able to help in some way.
But just think about Sofiso's faith. Maybe the severity of his brother's condition wasn't communicated to us. Maybe he took a sudden turn on that day. Either way, Sofiso, just minutes before, was laughing and smiling and confidently trusting that God would heal him. Despite numerous prayers for healing and provision not being answered in the past, he believed and trusted that God would heal his brother.
When do I have that faith? When, if I pray something, do I believe it's going to happen? And when, after I've prayed something and the exact opposite happens, have I continued praying and praising God for his goodness?
If that man from my church asked me again today, I would tell him this story. This faith, that I've so quickly forgotten, challenges me to trust my God. I want that faith, darn it. I want to, despite numerous disappointments before, still believe that God will answer my prayers when I ask something in his name and with his heart. My hope is to not forget that faith as I have for the past several weeks, but to have that kind of faith.
It's funny how forgetful we are. I came back on a Wednesday. The next day, new students arrived at work. And I've been going ever since. The few conclusions I made have been buried by two months of doing, creating, teaching, leading. After chewing on his questions these last couple of weeks, I remembered.
The Swazi people believe in prayer. Like, really believe it. If they pray something, they know it's going to happen. Period. Full stop.
Most of our days were spent doing home visits. We'd go to the homesteads of families in the church (and several neighbors), bring some gifts of food and hygiene items, share some scripture and pray with them. It was awkward. Swazis are difficult to read, so half the time, it felt like we were being invasive and rude. Pastor Maziya had to continually comfort us that people were happy and appreciated our presence.
Anyway. On one home visit, we talked to guy that explained his faith in prayer. He said that he rarely knew where his next meal was coming from. He was incredibly poor. No family to take care of him. No job prospects. No good land. And yet, he had never gone hungry. He had never gone a day without some kind of food. When he would pray, God would answer that prayer.
Boom. Do I have that faith?
Perhaps a more telling story of this was on our very first home visit. His name is Sofiso. He was a deacon and leader in the church and lived on his homestead with his mother and sister. When we visited with him, we shared some verse and talked about life for about 30 or 40 minutes. He and his mother worked at the hospital in town. In fact, his mother should be coming home from work any minute and we could meet her, too. We decided to stick around a while longer.
She was probably 20 minutes late when we decided we should probably move on. So we asked Sofiso what we could pray for with him. He said that his brother was very sick. He was in the hospital where his family worked, but they had been faithfully praying for him and he was getting better. In fact, they were hoping he would come home some time that week, so we could come back and meet him, too. We prayed something fierce for him. These people see enough death. God would heal this man.
As we walked down the driveway, Sofiso got a call. It was his mother. His brother had just died.
Literally as we were praying for this man's recovery, God was taking him home. Down to the minute.
Sofiso didn't cry. Swazis don't. Our team did.
Later that week, we were blessed to be able to provide most of the funeral costs. It was too close to our hearts for us not to be able to help in some way.
But just think about Sofiso's faith. Maybe the severity of his brother's condition wasn't communicated to us. Maybe he took a sudden turn on that day. Either way, Sofiso, just minutes before, was laughing and smiling and confidently trusting that God would heal him. Despite numerous prayers for healing and provision not being answered in the past, he believed and trusted that God would heal his brother.
When do I have that faith? When, if I pray something, do I believe it's going to happen? And when, after I've prayed something and the exact opposite happens, have I continued praying and praising God for his goodness?
If that man from my church asked me again today, I would tell him this story. This faith, that I've so quickly forgotten, challenges me to trust my God. I want that faith, darn it. I want to, despite numerous disappointments before, still believe that God will answer my prayers when I ask something in his name and with his heart. My hope is to not forget that faith as I have for the past several weeks, but to have that kind of faith.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Swaziland (part 1).
Last week, after church, one of our members took me aside and asked me, "Tell me about Swaziland. Tell me about your experience." I guess it's really more of a demand than a question.
So I told him some of the generic stuff. Stuff I've told so many people about the trip (though I realize I've never written about it on here). It was great to see believers around the world. It was an awesome opportunity to explore possibilities of a ministry partnership across the globe.
The slightly longer version is that I'm not sure how Swaziland was. As most of you know (maybe?), I went primarily as documentarian. My job was to capture the story of our team's experience and to tell of God's faithfulness. It was to capture the story of the Swazis. What is God doing there? Who are these people? How do they follow him? How can we be blessed by them as we have blessed them (We sent several thousand dollars of funds ahead of us)?
To develop a functional ministry partnership, our people needed to know their people. I took a camera, a decent mic, and my laptop to log and edit footage in country. The whole trip, my mind was consumed with questions: What's the story here? How can I tell that story best? How will it cut with other footage? What's the best framing? How's the lighting? Is the audio coming in clearly? Am I holding the mic so that the cables aren't making noise? What questions can I ask to get deeper into this story, this emotion? What's my battery life? How much time do I have left on my card? How likely am I to need the battery and the card space later?
I tell people that it was pretty lonely. Not in the "Wah, I miss home. I wish I had a girlfriend." kind of lonely, but I constantly felt like I was holding a council of one. Every artistic decision, every technical difficulty, every question I asked was my idea and I decided if it was good or bad. No one to help with sound or to interview while I worry about tech. I've told most people that I'm never doing video on a missions trip again unless I have at least one more person to help.
At no point did I feel like what I was doing was not ministry. I was keenly aware of video's power to do ministry to peoples' hearts while shooting every day. Video has the amazing power to stir peoples' hearts in such a way that they experience, in some small measure, what our team experienced while we were there. With a good video, they will love the people as much as we did.
Really, my ministry was not to the Swazis. It was to Impact, my home church.
I can't wait to share the fruits of that work, but it made for a pretty unemotional trip to Africa at times. (There are plenty of emotional stories, too. Maybe another time...)
But this guy at church wasn't content with that answer. He kept pressing. In retrospect, I'm really glad. Very few others have.
He said, "Traveling overseas, serving others, going on missions trips... it changes you. How did God change you? What was not the same about you when you came back?" I kept trying to BS some answer, but he kept rephrasing, kept asking, kept pushing.
(There's much more to tell, but I hate long blog posts. I'll continue this next posting.)
So I told him some of the generic stuff. Stuff I've told so many people about the trip (though I realize I've never written about it on here). It was great to see believers around the world. It was an awesome opportunity to explore possibilities of a ministry partnership across the globe.
The slightly longer version is that I'm not sure how Swaziland was. As most of you know (maybe?), I went primarily as documentarian. My job was to capture the story of our team's experience and to tell of God's faithfulness. It was to capture the story of the Swazis. What is God doing there? Who are these people? How do they follow him? How can we be blessed by them as we have blessed them (We sent several thousand dollars of funds ahead of us)?
To develop a functional ministry partnership, our people needed to know their people. I took a camera, a decent mic, and my laptop to log and edit footage in country. The whole trip, my mind was consumed with questions: What's the story here? How can I tell that story best? How will it cut with other footage? What's the best framing? How's the lighting? Is the audio coming in clearly? Am I holding the mic so that the cables aren't making noise? What questions can I ask to get deeper into this story, this emotion? What's my battery life? How much time do I have left on my card? How likely am I to need the battery and the card space later?
I tell people that it was pretty lonely. Not in the "Wah, I miss home. I wish I had a girlfriend." kind of lonely, but I constantly felt like I was holding a council of one. Every artistic decision, every technical difficulty, every question I asked was my idea and I decided if it was good or bad. No one to help with sound or to interview while I worry about tech. I've told most people that I'm never doing video on a missions trip again unless I have at least one more person to help.
At no point did I feel like what I was doing was not ministry. I was keenly aware of video's power to do ministry to peoples' hearts while shooting every day. Video has the amazing power to stir peoples' hearts in such a way that they experience, in some small measure, what our team experienced while we were there. With a good video, they will love the people as much as we did.
Really, my ministry was not to the Swazis. It was to Impact, my home church.
I can't wait to share the fruits of that work, but it made for a pretty unemotional trip to Africa at times. (There are plenty of emotional stories, too. Maybe another time...)
But this guy at church wasn't content with that answer. He kept pressing. In retrospect, I'm really glad. Very few others have.
He said, "Traveling overseas, serving others, going on missions trips... it changes you. How did God change you? What was not the same about you when you came back?" I kept trying to BS some answer, but he kept rephrasing, kept asking, kept pushing.
(There's much more to tell, but I hate long blog posts. I'll continue this next posting.)
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Future Nostalgia.
I moved around a lot growing up. My dad wasn’t in the army or anything, but, from birth to eighteen, I think I lived in eight different communities. Every time we moved, I genuinely thought about just not investing in our new home. I wouldn’t make friends. I wouldn’t get involved in the community. In short, I wouldn’t care.
It never worked. It turns out that’s just not in my nature. So I made friends. Good friends. Great friends, even. And then we’d move again.
Over time, the wounds of losing friends to distance have closed up. Every time I move, I find new friends and a new community to invest in. But every once in a while, a song will pop up on my iTunes or I’ll catch a whiff of some unique scent. Maybe I’ll just randomly get in the right mood. Either way, I start missing the life and friends I’d had before. I remember all the good times and think about the memories we never got the chance to make.
Future nostalgia is kind of like that, except I know I haven’t felt it yet. Many of my friends know exactly what I mean when I say that, but let me explain a bit.
It’s the feeling I get when I walk through Heritage Hill in the fall. I see myself there, in the future, raking leaves with my children as my wife heads inside to warm up some cider. I love her. I love my kids. We have a good life that we’ve worked hard to make and we thank God that he’s provided it for us.
It happens in late spring and early summer. My wife and I and some friends stay up late, telling stories and laughing on the back patio. Icicle lights, or maybe Japanese lanterns, provide just enough light for us to see each other as we listen to the commotion of our teenagers fighting for the remote inside. Our friend’s ten year old boy comes out. He’s tired and doesn’t fit in with the rest, so he sits next to his mom and listens to us adults tell stories and discuss issues until he falls asleep in the warm air.
It’s the feeling I get around Christmas when I spend time with friends and family. Inevitably, with all the moving I’ve done in my life, not everyone I want to be there is there. But I look toward the future. Toward a day, probably not even in this life, when all my friends are gathered around together. A record of classic Christmas songs plays in another room while most of us are squeezed onto couches and spare chairs around a fire. Maybe we’re playing some kind of board game. Maybe future-Kemp is so boring that we’re playing charades or something. Either way, there is a palpable feeling of comfort, of community, of love and peace and rest.
Though I know it will be a long time before I have these “dolly out” moments, I experience this feeling of future nostalgia with some regularity. I suspect you do, too. It’s part of our nature to long for healing, completion, and comfort. I think that this feeling is even a gift from God. It gives us something to shoot for. An instinctive goal or state of being that we want to achieve some day.
The good thing about following the God I serve is that I believe that, someday, these moments will happen. After sin has been destroyed and a new earth is created where we will live as we were meant to live, we’ll be able to purely enjoy these moments without fear of interruption. There will be no goodbyes or I’ll-probably-never-see-you-agains. When I get there, the first thing I’m going to do is gather my friends – all of them – and introduce them to each other.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Good articles.
This is a story I just read on Relevant Magazine's website. You should read it now. It's short.
I was at work when I read this today, but after the first paragraph, I couldn't stop. The writing was so beautiful, it was as if my eyes were compelled to keep moving down the page.
I sometimes don't know what to think when I read articles like this - so well written and powerful. My first thought was for this man who the author met: how tragic of a story his must be. My second thought was for myself: could I ever respond as elegantly as the author did? Could I, in that moment, love this man? Buying him the diapers would be easy. But would I pray with him? Or would I be scared of... whatever. Embarrassment. Harming the gospel through reckless words. Awkward bumbling.
May God continue to be gracious with me as I rely more on his grace...
I was at work when I read this today, but after the first paragraph, I couldn't stop. The writing was so beautiful, it was as if my eyes were compelled to keep moving down the page.
I sometimes don't know what to think when I read articles like this - so well written and powerful. My first thought was for this man who the author met: how tragic of a story his must be. My second thought was for myself: could I ever respond as elegantly as the author did? Could I, in that moment, love this man? Buying him the diapers would be easy. But would I pray with him? Or would I be scared of... whatever. Embarrassment. Harming the gospel through reckless words. Awkward bumbling.
May God continue to be gracious with me as I rely more on his grace...
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Chew on this.
I've been reading Leviticus lately. It's a fun book... And by fun, I mean somewhat difficult to get through. It's a lot more interesting when you consider the historical context of the book, but still, it's hard to read about wave offerings when that has little to do with the lives we lead now.
One verse caught my attention, though. Leviticus 19:9-10:
My sister does strange things. This shouldn't surprise people who know her. When she gets change after buying something at a store, she goes out in the parking lot and drops it. Sometimes all at once, sometimes one coin at a time. She figures that finding a penny cheers her up, so why not cheer others up? Is this a modern day application of this verse?
Or does it suggest that followers of the Lord should not always seek efficiency. Surely planting crops and then purposefully not harvesting them is inefficient. Maybe it means that we should even financially invest in ventures that we know will not yield a financial return (or, at least, not shy away from doing so).
I've been reading a book for our mission trip to Memphis called Theirs Is the Kingdom. (You should read this book.) It's written by a man who has been a missionary to inner city Atlanta for 15+ years. Our investment could produce jobs for those who don't have them and countless opportunities to share the message of Christ.
I can't really claim to know how to apply this these verses to our lives, but it's worth considering. What does this verse say about our God and the way we are to interact with the fruits of our labors?
One verse caught my attention, though. Leviticus 19:9-10:
When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the alien. I am the LORD your God.What does this mean in a modern context? For the ancient Jews, it was meant to provide a small amount of sustenance for the poor. By leaving the edges of the field unreaped and not being too thorough in harvesting, those with no fields would still be able to harvest. But what about us?
My sister does strange things. This shouldn't surprise people who know her. When she gets change after buying something at a store, she goes out in the parking lot and drops it. Sometimes all at once, sometimes one coin at a time. She figures that finding a penny cheers her up, so why not cheer others up? Is this a modern day application of this verse?
Or does it suggest that followers of the Lord should not always seek efficiency. Surely planting crops and then purposefully not harvesting them is inefficient. Maybe it means that we should even financially invest in ventures that we know will not yield a financial return (or, at least, not shy away from doing so).
I've been reading a book for our mission trip to Memphis called Theirs Is the Kingdom. (You should read this book.) It's written by a man who has been a missionary to inner city Atlanta for 15+ years. Our investment could produce jobs for those who don't have them and countless opportunities to share the message of Christ.
I can't really claim to know how to apply this these verses to our lives, but it's worth considering. What does this verse say about our God and the way we are to interact with the fruits of our labors?
Monday, January 26, 2009
Answered Prayer.
I wrote the seeds of this in my Moleskine yesterday. It was cool, so I thought I'd share.
Today, God answered prayer. I prayed last night at 2am that, if he wanted me at Sunday morning prayer (at 6:30am, no less), he would wake me up with energy before my alarm went off. I went to bed not really wanting to get up in the morning, but trusting that if Jesus really wanted me there, he'd get me there. I went to bed with my alarm set for 6:25am, knowing full well that I might get up, stare at it in bewilderment, then shut it off and go back to sleep.
I woke up at 6:20am awake and ready to go. In fact, I made sure my roommates didn't ignore their alarms.
The time ended up being very, very good. The scripture lined up with other things God has been sort of showing me lately - things I'm still exploring.
At church, I worshiped well. I had, for the first time in a long time, something specific to praise and thank him for. It feels good to praise God for something that he has done - for a specific answer to prayer.
But how cool would it be to worship him based on who he is - for his attributes - rather than just for what he had done? It's something I'm familiar with these days, but it is so intellectual for me. How great would it be to worship him with the same emotion and intensity despite what visible actions he had taken recently - just for his grace, his omnipotence, his love?
Today, God answered prayer. I prayed last night at 2am that, if he wanted me at Sunday morning prayer (at 6:30am, no less), he would wake me up with energy before my alarm went off. I went to bed not really wanting to get up in the morning, but trusting that if Jesus really wanted me there, he'd get me there. I went to bed with my alarm set for 6:25am, knowing full well that I might get up, stare at it in bewilderment, then shut it off and go back to sleep.
I woke up at 6:20am awake and ready to go. In fact, I made sure my roommates didn't ignore their alarms.
The time ended up being very, very good. The scripture lined up with other things God has been sort of showing me lately - things I'm still exploring.
At church, I worshiped well. I had, for the first time in a long time, something specific to praise and thank him for. It feels good to praise God for something that he has done - for a specific answer to prayer.
But how cool would it be to worship him based on who he is - for his attributes - rather than just for what he had done? It's something I'm familiar with these days, but it is so intellectual for me. How great would it be to worship him with the same emotion and intensity despite what visible actions he had taken recently - just for his grace, his omnipotence, his love?
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Christian Culture != Following Jesus.
Going to a Christian university is a unique experience. Never before have I been so fully immersed in the Christian Protestant subculture. Like any subculture, it comes with its own rules and expectations, taboos and holidays, media and attitudes about that media.
For example, as a 20something year old college student, here are a smattering of beliefs that are (sort of) expected of me:
The question, of course, is where do these expectations come from? Do I have to read my Bible to be a follower of Jesus? Do I have to subscribe to the philosophy that God is Green? If I don't do these things, am I a terrible Christian?
I think that oftentimes in the church, we confuse conforming to these expectations with following Jesus. We think that by learning to play guitar, by listening to the right music, by using the right words at the right time, we can grow closer to God.
But God didn't create me to conform to the culture of the church (contrary to what my IDS 200 professor thought...). He didn't necessarily create me to be the worship leader. He didn't create me to listen to trendy Christian bands and take care of the earth and be an advocate for every cause ever.
He created me to follow Jesus. He created me to follow Jesus.
It's a freeing thought to realize that he did not create me to be the pinnacle of Christian culture. He created me to be me. I'm supposed to be an agent of change, a lover of people, a creative person, and the scores of other things that I feel called to be.
But I am not called to be the trendy pastor with thick rimmed glasses. I am called to follow Jesus. Not the new trendy worship leader. Not the new trendy cause. Not the new trendy band or lingo or interpretation of Scripture. Jesus.
I want to be the guy that is outside of Christian culture, but totally into Jesus. I want to follow him in and out of it as he leads, but I do not want to keep him (or me) trapped in the entirely cultural and temporary expectations of our modern Christendom.
(P.S. About the title... In programming languages, an exclamation point means "the opposite of," therefore it reads "Christian Culture does not equal following Jesus." The end.)
For example, as a 20something year old college student, here are a smattering of beliefs that are (sort of) expected of me:
- I must read my Bible every day, at least a chapter. If I read more, I am more spiritual.
- Pray every day, usually in the morning.
- I should probably go into ministry. Full time would be preferable.
- Play the guitar.
- Talk about God a lot. Relate everything I experience to God. Tell everyone I know what I experienced and how it relates to God.
- More recently, I must strive to "greenify" my life (after all, God is green), listen to high quality, not-so-obviously-Christian music, and study the traditions of other denominations to gain insight into my own.
The question, of course, is where do these expectations come from? Do I have to read my Bible to be a follower of Jesus? Do I have to subscribe to the philosophy that God is Green? If I don't do these things, am I a terrible Christian?
I think that oftentimes in the church, we confuse conforming to these expectations with following Jesus. We think that by learning to play guitar, by listening to the right music, by using the right words at the right time, we can grow closer to God.
But God didn't create me to conform to the culture of the church (contrary to what my IDS 200 professor thought...). He didn't necessarily create me to be the worship leader. He didn't create me to listen to trendy Christian bands and take care of the earth and be an advocate for every cause ever.
He created me to follow Jesus. He created me to follow Jesus.
It's a freeing thought to realize that he did not create me to be the pinnacle of Christian culture. He created me to be me. I'm supposed to be an agent of change, a lover of people, a creative person, and the scores of other things that I feel called to be.
But I am not called to be the trendy pastor with thick rimmed glasses. I am called to follow Jesus. Not the new trendy worship leader. Not the new trendy cause. Not the new trendy band or lingo or interpretation of Scripture. Jesus.
I want to be the guy that is outside of Christian culture, but totally into Jesus. I want to follow him in and out of it as he leads, but I do not want to keep him (or me) trapped in the entirely cultural and temporary expectations of our modern Christendom.
(P.S. About the title... In programming languages, an exclamation point means "the opposite of," therefore it reads "Christian Culture does not equal following Jesus." The end.)
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Bootstraps vs. Blessings
I've been thinking about my career a lot lately. About what I want to do, how I'm going to get there, if I'm going to get there...
I seem to be under pressure from two equal and (seemingly) opposite philosophies, both with support.
The first is the one most commonly produced by the Christian community. The main idea is that if God wants you someplace, he will place you there. Where you are right now is where you're supposed to be. God created beings, not doings.
In my life, this looks kinda like this: Youth ministry - I like doing it, but I haven't been. Free time to build relationships and not be super stressed. Take time to live, breathe, observe, love people, etc.
With this train of thought, if God wanted me to become a game designer, he would place me in a position to be a game designer. I should still do all my class work and such (I must, after all, be faithful to all of what must be done today - not just the relational stuff.), but I shouldn't stress out so much about getting into the competitive field of game design. Perhaps some good connections through a God-provided internship will help me. Or the sister of one of my middle schoolers' parents works for Junction Point Studios and would love to have me on. Either way, I shouldn't worry about it and go go go like crazy to make it into the industry on my own.
Taking this attitude means that I don't have to worry so much about whether or not I'm creating games in my free time or not. It means that I don't have to feel guilty about not using the time I've set aside for "career time" properly. It means that I've run out of excuses for getting involved in youth ministry.
But it's not the only attitude to have.
The other attitude is the one that I hear preached most often when looking up game design career stuff. This is the typical American do-it-yourself. To get into the industry, I must be learning as much as I can about games, history, design (in every sense of the word), programming, sociology, psychology, etc... When I'm not doing that, I should be playing video games in an analytical fashion, designing games for fun (by myself and with others), and networking, networking, networking.
From the Christian angle, this means being very intentional in developing the gifts that God has given me to get to the place I believe God has called me to. It means staying focused and not letting the Enemy distract me from the goal. This is also where I get a little defensive and tell myself, "You can't let them [whoever "them" is] think that you don't work hard just because you're a Christian. You've got to work hard to His glory! That will show them that my God is too big[, too just, too holy, too whatever...] to be used as a crutch [or excuse, or scapegoat for unsuccess] by humans." Or something like that.
Practically, this "bootstraps" philosophy means that I do just that: I pull myself up by my own bootstraps. I make things happen for myself. I work hard to get where I want to go.
The problem there being (and this could be my Christian sub-culture getting through, rather than the real word of God) that there's so much "I" in those statements. There is very little "God through me."
The other problem, of course, is that I simply do not enjoy doing some of that stuff. I don't want to be so dedicated to my career that I don't have time for relationships, family, church, leading a small group, or helping with my son's Boy Scout troop someday. I never want my career to be all consuming and I feel like if I'm consumed just to get there, I'll never stop being consumed.
So as I look to my senior year of college, I ask myself what I want to dedicate myself to. Is it to the pursuit of a career? If I don't do that - if I don't work myself silly making product - there is little chance of me getting into grad school, getting a job, or ever working in a field that I'm passionate about. Or do I pursue wholeness, simplicity, and God's increasing hold on my life? If I don't do that, who knows what will happen to me... I will probably become someone I don't want to be.
Now, before I get a bunch of comments saying this exact thing, I'm sure a middle of the road procedure would be best. But the practicality of the matter is that it's never that simple and sometimes impossible choices favoring one side or the other have to be made.
I guess the question is what is God really calling me to? And how serious do I need to be to get there?
I seem to be under pressure from two equal and (seemingly) opposite philosophies, both with support.
The first is the one most commonly produced by the Christian community. The main idea is that if God wants you someplace, he will place you there. Where you are right now is where you're supposed to be. God created beings, not doings.
In my life, this looks kinda like this: Youth ministry - I like doing it, but I haven't been. Free time to build relationships and not be super stressed. Take time to live, breathe, observe, love people, etc.
With this train of thought, if God wanted me to become a game designer, he would place me in a position to be a game designer. I should still do all my class work and such (I must, after all, be faithful to all of what must be done today - not just the relational stuff.), but I shouldn't stress out so much about getting into the competitive field of game design. Perhaps some good connections through a God-provided internship will help me. Or the sister of one of my middle schoolers' parents works for Junction Point Studios and would love to have me on. Either way, I shouldn't worry about it and go go go like crazy to make it into the industry on my own.
Taking this attitude means that I don't have to worry so much about whether or not I'm creating games in my free time or not. It means that I don't have to feel guilty about not using the time I've set aside for "career time" properly. It means that I've run out of excuses for getting involved in youth ministry.
But it's not the only attitude to have.
The other attitude is the one that I hear preached most often when looking up game design career stuff. This is the typical American do-it-yourself. To get into the industry, I must be learning as much as I can about games, history, design (in every sense of the word), programming, sociology, psychology, etc... When I'm not doing that, I should be playing video games in an analytical fashion, designing games for fun (by myself and with others), and networking, networking, networking.
From the Christian angle, this means being very intentional in developing the gifts that God has given me to get to the place I believe God has called me to. It means staying focused and not letting the Enemy distract me from the goal. This is also where I get a little defensive and tell myself, "You can't let them [whoever "them" is] think that you don't work hard just because you're a Christian. You've got to work hard to His glory! That will show them that my God is too big[, too just, too holy, too whatever...] to be used as a crutch [or excuse, or scapegoat for unsuccess] by humans." Or something like that.
Practically, this "bootstraps" philosophy means that I do just that: I pull myself up by my own bootstraps. I make things happen for myself. I work hard to get where I want to go.
The problem there being (and this could be my Christian sub-culture getting through, rather than the real word of God) that there's so much "I" in those statements. There is very little "God through me."
The other problem, of course, is that I simply do not enjoy doing some of that stuff. I don't want to be so dedicated to my career that I don't have time for relationships, family, church, leading a small group, or helping with my son's Boy Scout troop someday. I never want my career to be all consuming and I feel like if I'm consumed just to get there, I'll never stop being consumed.
So as I look to my senior year of college, I ask myself what I want to dedicate myself to. Is it to the pursuit of a career? If I don't do that - if I don't work myself silly making product - there is little chance of me getting into grad school, getting a job, or ever working in a field that I'm passionate about. Or do I pursue wholeness, simplicity, and God's increasing hold on my life? If I don't do that, who knows what will happen to me... I will probably become someone I don't want to be.
Now, before I get a bunch of comments saying this exact thing, I'm sure a middle of the road procedure would be best. But the practicality of the matter is that it's never that simple and sometimes impossible choices favoring one side or the other have to be made.
I guess the question is what is God really calling me to? And how serious do I need to be to get there?
Friday, August 15, 2008
TheKempest.
I've written about my name before, but I was thinking about it some more tonight (as I was laying in bed, unable to sleep. Again.).
It all started last week when I (finally) got my Xbox 360 hooked up to Xbox Live, their internet service. On the console, you can choose a Gamertag. I chose TheKemp. The idea is that you then connect to Xbox Live and you can use the same name. Of course, when I chose TheKemp, I thought, "No one else in the world is named Kemp. There's no way this one will be taken."
It was.
Microsoft would not let me be "TheKemp" because there already was a "TheKemp" out there somewhere.
So I had to one up this "TheKemp." I would not allow him (or her. Who knows?) to take my name! My new Gamertag? TheKempest. I am much more Kemp than any other Kemp in the world. (Unfortunately, it looks like I'm trying to wordplay both my name and "tempest" like some middle schooler who acts like he's really good at Halo but really is quite mediocre.)
Which got me thinking: what does that mean? What does it mean to be more Kemp than anyone else in the world? Do I associate certain qualities as being Kemp and certain qualities as being unKemp (or unkempt. ha.)?
I know that my name does mean a lot to me. I'm glad that I can't easily find any other person on Facebook with the name of Kemp. I'm glad that when I meet people, I am the only way they can define the word. They have never known a Kemp before me and chances are that they will never know a Kemp after me. My self will never be separated from the word "Kemp" by other Kemps out there as the expecations of Michaels and Johns are.
(Side notes: I just wrote my name more than I ever have in my life. What a weird name! An M and a P right next to each other? Who decided to name their child that? What the heck...)
All this slightly disassociated narcissistic talk to come down to this point: God has a name. In Exodus 3, Moses is sent on a mission by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Moses falters several times in the conversation, but eventually asks, "Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them?"
In the religions of the ancient near east, knowing a name gave you power over that person or force. Knowing my name gives you some power over me even still. At work, I freak out all the time when people pick my name off my name tag. I am immediately more friendly (mostly because I'm not sure if I really do know them or not). When people shout your name from across a crowded room, no matter how likely it is that there are others that share your name, you turn in that direction. Moses is sort of asking for that kind of power, only much more intense.
And the Creator of the Universe, Elohim, responds: "I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'"
God's name is I Am. His very name speaks of existence. Pure, unadulterated, independent, noncontingent existence.
There is none of Descartes' famous, "I think..." before it. He just is.
Two thoughts out of this (both more or less half baked):
1. When we say "I am," are we using the Lord's name in vain? Are we willing ourselves into existence, as if that were possible? Are we, through the very nature of our own language, calling God from across the room every time we say something about ourselves? Does God turn his head attentively only to find out we were talking to the other "I Am" in the room? (P.S. There is no other I Am.)
2. (This one's even less baked...) Does our existence cry the name of God? If he is existence and being, then we, through our contingent being constantly call attention back to the one without whom we would not exist. Through this (obnoxiously deep, convoluted, and) philosophical lens, it makes sense that the purpose of human life is to glorify God. We are, after all, merely borrowing from his existence...
3. (I know I said two, but then I reread the top and this point has to be made at least a little...) What attributes are distinctly God's? As I was reflecting on what made me the "Kempest" of all the Kemps, what makes I AM the most I AMest of all the I ams?
This question is, of course, answereable (at least a little) through a good theology book, but it does merit more thought.
Later.
P.S. Fun idea to try with your friends! Take the ideas from my reflection on my name earlier in this entry and think about how God feels in the same situation. Good times.
It all started last week when I (finally) got my Xbox 360 hooked up to Xbox Live, their internet service. On the console, you can choose a Gamertag. I chose TheKemp. The idea is that you then connect to Xbox Live and you can use the same name. Of course, when I chose TheKemp, I thought, "No one else in the world is named Kemp. There's no way this one will be taken."
It was.
Microsoft would not let me be "TheKemp" because there already was a "TheKemp" out there somewhere.
So I had to one up this "TheKemp." I would not allow him (or her. Who knows?) to take my name! My new Gamertag? TheKempest. I am much more Kemp than any other Kemp in the world. (Unfortunately, it looks like I'm trying to wordplay both my name and "tempest" like some middle schooler who acts like he's really good at Halo but really is quite mediocre.)
Which got me thinking: what does that mean? What does it mean to be more Kemp than anyone else in the world? Do I associate certain qualities as being Kemp and certain qualities as being unKemp (or unkempt. ha.)?
I know that my name does mean a lot to me. I'm glad that I can't easily find any other person on Facebook with the name of Kemp. I'm glad that when I meet people, I am the only way they can define the word. They have never known a Kemp before me and chances are that they will never know a Kemp after me. My self will never be separated from the word "Kemp" by other Kemps out there as the expecations of Michaels and Johns are.
(Side notes: I just wrote my name more than I ever have in my life. What a weird name! An M and a P right next to each other? Who decided to name their child that? What the heck...)
All this slightly disassociated narcissistic talk to come down to this point: God has a name. In Exodus 3, Moses is sent on a mission by the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Moses falters several times in the conversation, but eventually asks, "Suppose I go to the Israelites and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' Then what shall I tell them?"
In the religions of the ancient near east, knowing a name gave you power over that person or force. Knowing my name gives you some power over me even still. At work, I freak out all the time when people pick my name off my name tag. I am immediately more friendly (mostly because I'm not sure if I really do know them or not). When people shout your name from across a crowded room, no matter how likely it is that there are others that share your name, you turn in that direction. Moses is sort of asking for that kind of power, only much more intense.
And the Creator of the Universe, Elohim, responds: "I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'"
God's name is I Am. His very name speaks of existence. Pure, unadulterated, independent, noncontingent existence.
There is none of Descartes' famous, "I think..." before it. He just is.
Two thoughts out of this (both more or less half baked):
1. When we say "I am," are we using the Lord's name in vain? Are we willing ourselves into existence, as if that were possible? Are we, through the very nature of our own language, calling God from across the room every time we say something about ourselves? Does God turn his head attentively only to find out we were talking to the other "I Am" in the room? (P.S. There is no other I Am.)
2. (This one's even less baked...) Does our existence cry the name of God? If he is existence and being, then we, through our contingent being constantly call attention back to the one without whom we would not exist. Through this (obnoxiously deep, convoluted, and) philosophical lens, it makes sense that the purpose of human life is to glorify God. We are, after all, merely borrowing from his existence...
3. (I know I said two, but then I reread the top and this point has to be made at least a little...) What attributes are distinctly God's? As I was reflecting on what made me the "Kempest" of all the Kemps, what makes I AM the most I AMest of all the I ams?
This question is, of course, answereable (at least a little) through a good theology book, but it does merit more thought.
Later.
P.S. Fun idea to try with your friends! Take the ideas from my reflection on my name earlier in this entry and think about how God feels in the same situation. Good times.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
What if it's true?
Here's something else I've been thinking about yesterday and today. What if it's true?
What if what we believe is true? Jesus really was God in the flesh. We really are alienated from God because of sin. Jesus' death changed our broken state, but we are still being changed. The Devil really exists. We're supposed to sacrifice for our wives and wives are to submit to their husbands (Oo..... controversy...). The meek will inherit the earth. Brother will be divided from brother.
Sometimes I believe things intellectually, but forget that it's really true. That it really does change the way I see the world and how I act in it.
What if what we believe is true? Jesus really was God in the flesh. We really are alienated from God because of sin. Jesus' death changed our broken state, but we are still being changed. The Devil really exists. We're supposed to sacrifice for our wives and wives are to submit to their husbands (Oo..... controversy...). The meek will inherit the earth. Brother will be divided from brother.
Sometimes I believe things intellectually, but forget that it's really true. That it really does change the way I see the world and how I act in it.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
God is really heavy.
So I'm reading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. It's been on my reading list for a full year and I've finally gotten to it. It's like Rob Bell's basic theology book.
Here's a thought that's getting to me.
In Movement (chapter) 3, he talks a bit about missions. So often, when we talk about missions, we say that we are "bringing Jesus to" China or Africa or Chicago or the film industry.
But Bell reminds his readers that God is, in fact, everywhere. There is no place that he is not present. It is the awareness of his presence that changes from place to place and person to person.
The duty of the missionary then, is not to force Jesus onto a people, but to show them where he is already active and moving. What are the true things that are happening in the place? Are people laughing? Are there crops growing? Is there, in a word, goodness? If so, then God is there. He must merely be seen more clearly. He must be named. Just as Paul does at the Areopagus (a way cooler name than Mars Hill, in my opinion...), we can point to things already around us (like poets, philosophers, prophets) and say that they have it somewhat right. But there is a higher reality. It all comes from the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob - the God who revealed himself through Jesus the Messiah and the Bible.
So, Bell suggests, a missionary is perhaps better called a tour guide - one who can see God in the everyday. Someone who can see the Lord working in the most unlikely places.
In my own life, I am finally at a place where I am not surrounded by Christians - my job. It's not as hostile of an environment as I expect in the game industry, but I do not see people coming to work with their Bibles... How do I show them Jesus? How do I make disciples?
The suggestion that our job as "missionaries" (or evangelists or Jesus-networkers [I just made that one up]) is merely to see God already at work, point to it, and call it out appeals to me.
But it is a challenge. A change in how I look at the world. Sadly, even as a believer, I don't have the eyes to see God's movement in any but the most obvious and powerful places.
But Rob Bell might be right. If we see ourselves carrying God from one place (Cornerstone/my life/my church) to another (my job/my career/the streets/the bar down the road), we will undoubtably get exhausted.
God is really heavy.
Here's a thought that's getting to me.
In Movement (chapter) 3, he talks a bit about missions. So often, when we talk about missions, we say that we are "bringing Jesus to" China or Africa or Chicago or the film industry.
But Bell reminds his readers that God is, in fact, everywhere. There is no place that he is not present. It is the awareness of his presence that changes from place to place and person to person.
The duty of the missionary then, is not to force Jesus onto a people, but to show them where he is already active and moving. What are the true things that are happening in the place? Are people laughing? Are there crops growing? Is there, in a word, goodness? If so, then God is there. He must merely be seen more clearly. He must be named. Just as Paul does at the Areopagus (a way cooler name than Mars Hill, in my opinion...), we can point to things already around us (like poets, philosophers, prophets) and say that they have it somewhat right. But there is a higher reality. It all comes from the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob - the God who revealed himself through Jesus the Messiah and the Bible.
So, Bell suggests, a missionary is perhaps better called a tour guide - one who can see God in the everyday. Someone who can see the Lord working in the most unlikely places.
In my own life, I am finally at a place where I am not surrounded by Christians - my job. It's not as hostile of an environment as I expect in the game industry, but I do not see people coming to work with their Bibles... How do I show them Jesus? How do I make disciples?
The suggestion that our job as "missionaries" (or evangelists or Jesus-networkers [I just made that one up]) is merely to see God already at work, point to it, and call it out appeals to me.
But it is a challenge. A change in how I look at the world. Sadly, even as a believer, I don't have the eyes to see God's movement in any but the most obvious and powerful places.
But Rob Bell might be right. If we see ourselves carrying God from one place (Cornerstone/my life/my church) to another (my job/my career/the streets/the bar down the road), we will undoubtably get exhausted.
God is really heavy.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Entitlement
Remember that one time I had a blog? Yeah... that was a good time.
I'm working on learning a little bit of Game Maker right now (search it on Google... I don't feel like linking...) It's good times.
As I was sitting outside in the beautiful sun today, I was watching some bugs move around on the grass. I figured maybe it looked fun. Maybe I should make a gameplay experiment about jumping around on different sized platforms, just to see if I can make it fun.
Then I remembered: I want to be a game designer and I should probably learn and make some...
Church was good this morning. We've been going through 2 Chronicles something or other: "If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray, seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and I will hear their land." Today was "turn from their wicked ways." Good times.
Jason said something this morning that resonated a bit with me, though, that I'll share here. In talking about sin and specifically some things in the congregation, he mentioned that "out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks." But how much moreso our bodies act? What is the heart behind my actions? (A question that has been plaguing me for some time...)
I guess lately, I've had a bit of an entitlement attitude. I've been expecting life to go my way without any hard work. I have not been learning how to design video games, I have not been spending time outside of my schoolwork writing or concepting. I only applied at a few places to work this summer - no wonder I'm stuck at a movie theater working weekends!
If I feel entitled now and act this way now, how much more so will I act when I have a college degree? In my observation, jobs don't come from hard work. I've always been taught that "It's not what you know, it's who you know." It's not how hard you work, it's knowing people that will give you a job anyway. That's not how the world is going to work out of college. We don't know anyone (at least, I don't). I need to kick this entitled attitude right in the rear now.
Another thought I had in church: In America, we feel entitled, like it is our right to freedom, our right to riches, our right to upper-middle class subdivisions, an SUV, and 2.5 children. This is exactly the attitude that our forefathers fought against! We feel like we deserve what we get - they worked hard to get it. There are many days that I wish I was more like generations past in work ethic and attitude.
Anyway, that's enough rambling for now. (These things are always longer when I look at them than when I type them...)
I'm working on learning a little bit of Game Maker right now (search it on Google... I don't feel like linking...) It's good times.
As I was sitting outside in the beautiful sun today, I was watching some bugs move around on the grass. I figured maybe it looked fun. Maybe I should make a gameplay experiment about jumping around on different sized platforms, just to see if I can make it fun.
Then I remembered: I want to be a game designer and I should probably learn and make some...
Church was good this morning. We've been going through 2 Chronicles something or other: "If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray, seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and I will hear their land." Today was "turn from their wicked ways." Good times.
Jason said something this morning that resonated a bit with me, though, that I'll share here. In talking about sin and specifically some things in the congregation, he mentioned that "out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks." But how much moreso our bodies act? What is the heart behind my actions? (A question that has been plaguing me for some time...)
I guess lately, I've had a bit of an entitlement attitude. I've been expecting life to go my way without any hard work. I have not been learning how to design video games, I have not been spending time outside of my schoolwork writing or concepting. I only applied at a few places to work this summer - no wonder I'm stuck at a movie theater working weekends!
If I feel entitled now and act this way now, how much more so will I act when I have a college degree? In my observation, jobs don't come from hard work. I've always been taught that "It's not what you know, it's who you know." It's not how hard you work, it's knowing people that will give you a job anyway. That's not how the world is going to work out of college. We don't know anyone (at least, I don't). I need to kick this entitled attitude right in the rear now.
Another thought I had in church: In America, we feel entitled, like it is our right to freedom, our right to riches, our right to upper-middle class subdivisions, an SUV, and 2.5 children. This is exactly the attitude that our forefathers fought against! We feel like we deserve what we get - they worked hard to get it. There are many days that I wish I was more like generations past in work ethic and attitude.
Anyway, that's enough rambling for now. (These things are always longer when I look at them than when I type them...)
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Back of the head voices
It's funny. Every so often, I get these things in the back of my head that tell me things.
Lately, they've been saying a lot - get ahead on your homework, here's a story idea, be a game designer, Story is King, pursue God, etc. But lately, I've heard a new(ish) one about leadership.
I'm not sure what exactly it's saying, but I feel like I may need to do something leadership-y soon. If it really is a gift that people point out to me as they have, then I should eventually do something about it.
So that's something I've been thinking a little about lately. If any of you have an prophetic truth to speak into my life in this area, feel free to go at it. If not, that's cool. I'm sure God will eventually be pretty clear about the matter.
Lately, they've been saying a lot - get ahead on your homework, here's a story idea, be a game designer, Story is King, pursue God, etc. But lately, I've heard a new(ish) one about leadership.
I'm not sure what exactly it's saying, but I feel like I may need to do something leadership-y soon. If it really is a gift that people point out to me as they have, then I should eventually do something about it.
So that's something I've been thinking a little about lately. If any of you have an prophetic truth to speak into my life in this area, feel free to go at it. If not, that's cool. I'm sure God will eventually be pretty clear about the matter.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
A new tradition
Hi everyone.
It's Christmas.
Yay.
14 So the LORD God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this,
"Cursed are you above all the livestock
and all the wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly
and you will eat dust
all the days of your life.
So... the snake's head has been crushed.
That should be a new Christmas tradition. Every child should get a small snake skull in their stocking and they should all get to crush it, thus symbolizing what Christ has done for us.
Okay, maybe not.
It's Christmas.
Yay.
14 So the LORD God said to the serpent, "Because you have done this,
"Cursed are you above all the livestock
and all the wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly
and you will eat dust
all the days of your life.
15 And I will put enmity
between you and the woman,
and between your offspring [a] and hers;
he will crush [b] your head,
and you will strike his heel."
So... the snake's head has been crushed.
That should be a new Christmas tradition. Every child should get a small snake skull in their stocking and they should all get to crush it, thus symbolizing what Christ has done for us.
Okay, maybe not.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Into marvelous light I'm running...
I'm running desperately toward the light. Shadows are flying by me all over, strange forms that both entice me and terrify me. It is a dark place, a lonely place, a place of my own self destruction. As I run, I nearly choke on the heat, the humidity, and the stink of sweat that seems to pervade the air no matter where I run. What little wind there is seems to be contorted into a greasy, snake like coil that never brings the comfort of a breeze. I try to listen to the sound of my breathing, but it proves impossible to hear over the cacophony of noises I hear from the shadows around - cries of pain, cruel laughter, the pregnant silence of fear, and the sobs of guilt. This is as close as I could ever imagine hell being and my only way out is right in front of me. I run toward the light desperately, with a recklessness that belies my usual thought out processing.
All of a sudden, the light is all around me. The shadows are gone and in their place, there is nothing. Nothing but formless light, as far as my eyes can see. This is the escape that I so desperately craved. I am no longer tormented by my demons or the demons of others.
But it scares me.
All I can see is light. I search in vain for something in the distance, some small object by which I could discern space, but there is no movement of any kind, no forms to discern in the distance, not even the hint of a fog. The air is still and quiet - more quiet than I ever imagined possible. All I can hear is my own heartbeat, and even that sounds distant. I slowly become aware that I am slightly cold. Not near enough to shiver, but just enough to make me uncomfortable. The air has no smell, no taste. There is nothing but light.
I am alone. Utterly alone. My senses are dead, I am losing my humanity. I scream just to hear something, but something about my voice - or about the air - only allows the smallest whisper to reach my ears. I start trying to run again, but then I fall. Or do I? I have no sense of what is up, what is down. I do not even know if I am standing on solid ground right now.
Not knowing what else to do, I pray, "God, you led me here! You called me out of the darkness into your light! But I do not understand! I can't see anything! I can't hear anything! Please show me a path!" But nothing happens. I see nothing but light.
I cry, "Let me hear your voice, Father! Tell me how to move and I will gladly do it! I will take only baby steps until you direct me otherwise!" I strain my ears, expecting to hear the smallest whisper, but nothing happens. I hear only the distant pounding of my heart.
Finally, I plead, "Give me anything! Give me chains! Give me pain! Give me anything by which I can know where I am and where I am to go!" I reach my hands up, bringing my wrists close together, as if God would reach down from heaven and handcuff me to a giant chain that I could follow. I close my eyes tight, as if God was about to push spears into my exposed side, but nothing happens.
I still feel nothing. No hint of guidance. No promise of more to come. Just light. Blinding light all around me.
I consider for a moment that the Darkness was better - there I had feeling. I could see, hear, taste, smell, and touch. Here, I am nothing. Here, I only know light. But that thought quickly passes as folly. I am better here, alone, than there, in darkness and pain. I know I have followed God, I just don't see him any longer. He has led me this far. Eventually, my logic and knowledge tell my heart, he will come and get me. He will lead me to where he is.
But he is not here now. And so, in my loneliness, I begin to cry.
I hear my sobs as if they were very close to me, much closer than my heartbeat. I feel the blood rush to my face as it flushes and my tears rolling down my nose. I'm sure, if there was anyone there, I would feel embarrassed. Then, I realize that I am hearing. I am feeling. I open my eyes and I see my hands as if they had never been there before. I wipe my nose with my forearm and notice how the snot makes all the hairs in its path move in the same direction. I begin to laugh a little.
As I hear my laugh, I can still hear sobs somewhere. I begin to hear other sounds - a contented sigh, someone saying the words, "I love you," a shout of triumph. More and more sounds are added to the symphony, like an orchestra tuning before a performance.
Suddenly, the light around me begins to fade. The symphony of sound seems to transform into physical shape sound by sound. As it does, I can start discerning mountains in the far distance. I begin to see that I am standing in a field full of wild flowers, with a forest of pine trees to my left and right and a hill in front of me. I can hear birds singing in the forest, a breeze rustling both the wildflowers and the larger tree branches. From over the hill, I hear what sounds like waves crashing into a shore. The sky is blue with patches of large, fluffy clouds and the sun is warming me gently. I can smell the wildflowers and the pine and the smell of grass on a sunny day. I put my hand over the tall grass, like that shot in Gladiator, and feel the ridges of the leaf, the thinness of the blade, and the soft point of its end.
Then it hits me. Perhaps I was too blinded by the darkness to see what was all around me. Perhaps the noise of the Dark dulled my ears to the distant breeze and sound of grass waving in the wind. Maybe this scene has been here since the beginning, waiting for me to be sensitive enough to enjoy it.
I don't think God created us to isolate ourselves in perfection. It is an impossible goal. Rather, I think he created us to enjoy what he has put in front of us. Unfortunately, our sin gets in the way of that.
I'm still learning how to balance legalism and total abandonment of God's standards. I wish I could cling to a list of do's and don't's to grow closer to God, but that's not how God's grace works. We cannot cling to Jesus and a code of behavior. We just need to cling to Jesus and introduce others to him.
P.S. This is my 100th post. And also the longest, I think.
P.P.S. Heidi, this was an encouragement when I read it tonight. Thank you. Jude 24: "Now all glory to God, who is able to keep you from falling away and will bring you with great joy into his glorious presence without a single fault."
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Now playing: Skillet - Looking For Angels
via FoxyTunes
All of a sudden, the light is all around me. The shadows are gone and in their place, there is nothing. Nothing but formless light, as far as my eyes can see. This is the escape that I so desperately craved. I am no longer tormented by my demons or the demons of others.
But it scares me.
All I can see is light. I search in vain for something in the distance, some small object by which I could discern space, but there is no movement of any kind, no forms to discern in the distance, not even the hint of a fog. The air is still and quiet - more quiet than I ever imagined possible. All I can hear is my own heartbeat, and even that sounds distant. I slowly become aware that I am slightly cold. Not near enough to shiver, but just enough to make me uncomfortable. The air has no smell, no taste. There is nothing but light.
I am alone. Utterly alone. My senses are dead, I am losing my humanity. I scream just to hear something, but something about my voice - or about the air - only allows the smallest whisper to reach my ears. I start trying to run again, but then I fall. Or do I? I have no sense of what is up, what is down. I do not even know if I am standing on solid ground right now.
Not knowing what else to do, I pray, "God, you led me here! You called me out of the darkness into your light! But I do not understand! I can't see anything! I can't hear anything! Please show me a path!" But nothing happens. I see nothing but light.
I cry, "Let me hear your voice, Father! Tell me how to move and I will gladly do it! I will take only baby steps until you direct me otherwise!" I strain my ears, expecting to hear the smallest whisper, but nothing happens. I hear only the distant pounding of my heart.
Finally, I plead, "Give me anything! Give me chains! Give me pain! Give me anything by which I can know where I am and where I am to go!" I reach my hands up, bringing my wrists close together, as if God would reach down from heaven and handcuff me to a giant chain that I could follow. I close my eyes tight, as if God was about to push spears into my exposed side, but nothing happens.
I still feel nothing. No hint of guidance. No promise of more to come. Just light. Blinding light all around me.
I consider for a moment that the Darkness was better - there I had feeling. I could see, hear, taste, smell, and touch. Here, I am nothing. Here, I only know light. But that thought quickly passes as folly. I am better here, alone, than there, in darkness and pain. I know I have followed God, I just don't see him any longer. He has led me this far. Eventually, my logic and knowledge tell my heart, he will come and get me. He will lead me to where he is.
But he is not here now. And so, in my loneliness, I begin to cry.
I hear my sobs as if they were very close to me, much closer than my heartbeat. I feel the blood rush to my face as it flushes and my tears rolling down my nose. I'm sure, if there was anyone there, I would feel embarrassed. Then, I realize that I am hearing. I am feeling. I open my eyes and I see my hands as if they had never been there before. I wipe my nose with my forearm and notice how the snot makes all the hairs in its path move in the same direction. I begin to laugh a little.
As I hear my laugh, I can still hear sobs somewhere. I begin to hear other sounds - a contented sigh, someone saying the words, "I love you," a shout of triumph. More and more sounds are added to the symphony, like an orchestra tuning before a performance.
Suddenly, the light around me begins to fade. The symphony of sound seems to transform into physical shape sound by sound. As it does, I can start discerning mountains in the far distance. I begin to see that I am standing in a field full of wild flowers, with a forest of pine trees to my left and right and a hill in front of me. I can hear birds singing in the forest, a breeze rustling both the wildflowers and the larger tree branches. From over the hill, I hear what sounds like waves crashing into a shore. The sky is blue with patches of large, fluffy clouds and the sun is warming me gently. I can smell the wildflowers and the pine and the smell of grass on a sunny day. I put my hand over the tall grass, like that shot in Gladiator, and feel the ridges of the leaf, the thinness of the blade, and the soft point of its end.
Then it hits me. Perhaps I was too blinded by the darkness to see what was all around me. Perhaps the noise of the Dark dulled my ears to the distant breeze and sound of grass waving in the wind. Maybe this scene has been here since the beginning, waiting for me to be sensitive enough to enjoy it.
I don't think God created us to isolate ourselves in perfection. It is an impossible goal. Rather, I think he created us to enjoy what he has put in front of us. Unfortunately, our sin gets in the way of that.
I'm still learning how to balance legalism and total abandonment of God's standards. I wish I could cling to a list of do's and don't's to grow closer to God, but that's not how God's grace works. We cannot cling to Jesus and a code of behavior. We just need to cling to Jesus and introduce others to him.
P.S. This is my 100th post. And also the longest, I think.
P.P.S. Heidi, this was an encouragement when I read it tonight. Thank you. Jude 24: "Now all glory to God, who is able to keep you from falling away and will bring you with great joy into his glorious presence without a single fault."
----------------
Now playing: Skillet - Looking For Angels
via FoxyTunes
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