thinking about forever

I went to a church service once where the guest speaker spent the entire sermon talking about wrong thinking. He said the solution to the majority of life’s problems is correcting the way we think from negative to positive. It sounded a little too much like The Secret for me to be sure if I should take him seriously or not, so I kind of settled on not. But I’ve been reminded of it a lot since, and I really believe there’s truth in what he was saying. Every time we speak and act there is a thought behind it. People even have what we call a ‘thought life.’ Fantasies, temptations, faulty perspectives, all originate in our minds and are the reasons for so many of the things we do. Very often I am reminded of what Paul instructs us in Philippians 4.8:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable­– if anything is excellent or praiseworthy– think about such things.

It is amazing how much genuine effort it takes to do that because often I find myself viewing situations and reaching conclusions in a very negative light. Then I become reactive and operate in defense mode when the reality is I have every resource to stand above what other people choose to throw at me. Sometimes it is very easy to dwell too much on things and resist the option of finding a solution.

Those who live according to the sinful nature have their minds set on what that nature desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires. The mind of sinful man is death, but the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace.

It makes sense now why Jesus would tell us to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. All of them, together, form the core of who we are. And all of them should be so enraptured with the Lord that our thoughts are his thoughts and our desires are his desires. When I am being honest with myself, I know that is not my life.

I have heard that verse, along with the Golden Rule, for essentially all my life. I always assumed Jesus said it and it could be called the greatest commandment because at that point, his life mission was all about love anyway. I never realized that those are called commands not because of the nature of the words but because they trace themselves back to Old Testament times. All of Moses’ books were full of commands. And the best part about them being buried in Leviticus 19.18 and Deuteronomy 6.4 amidst verses and chapters full of random instructions is that it solidifies for me the fact that God never changes. He was all about love from the beginning of time, and he is always going to be. It is who he is.

It is who I should be.

I know very well why I’m not. C.S. Lewis describes it wonderfully in his book The Four Loves:

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

Buddhism is right in that regard. Life is suffering and suffering sucks. But we cannot choose the selfish route and close our hearts off to the world. I know that. And yet most of the time it is what I want to do more than anything else. Love, attachment, hope, it is all very dangerous.

paradise city

Come with me, he said. I have something to show you. I followed him to the top of a mountain overlooking the city. Buildings were lit, cars were racing down highways, people were working, eating, living. But that wasn't what we saw. We were looking past the material and knowing the world for what it was. We had eyes to see. He asked me, What are you thinking? I said, They are way too messed up.

Yes, they are too messed up. But too messed up for what? For hope? For a second chance? No. Too messed up to do it on their own.

I want you to be a voice for the voiceless. I want you to speak for those who can't, and for the ones that try but are never heard. It's not about you. I know it's easy to get caught up in it, but you have to believe that as you help me take care of my work, I will be taking care of you. It's what you've always cared about. Justice. And for good reason. Don't compare yourself to others. I'm asking them to be a part of other things.

REMEMBER.

I am at work reconciling the world to myself. I'm asking you to join me. With no more concern for what others are or are not doing, I'm asking you to help me reconcile the world. This is purpose. This is what makes life so important. Work with me.

You tell their stories. You show their beautiful faces to the world. You approach corporate, industrial America and you make them pay attention.

And then he smiled, held out his hand to me and said, Come on. Let's go.

is it any wonder?

the most consistent thing about people is that they never turn out to be who you thought they were.

a call to apathy

here is a concept i dont understand

how the things that we see & witness firsthand

can have no effect on our day to day plans

if we stopped long enough to read the news

asked some questions of the knowledgable few

or cared enough what the world went through

it would stop being enough to just stand by

shrugging our shoulders with an impatient sigh

thinking someone else will give it a try

that is the problem– we just dont care

or we watch just enough to contrast & compare

but only if we suffer does it become unfair

how do you form opinions if youre ignorant?

does corruption and crime sound redundant?

how can you possibly be so complacent?

so im not surprised that people dont vote

if you live in your own world the idea's too remote

a distant concept politicians promote

and that is the part that truly scares me

the widespread disease of selfish apathy

the flippant attitude thats so plain to see

i want us to stand up & contradict

to not shy away when we hear of conflict

to actually be angry when news is horrific

what would happen if we all took a stand

or were bold enough to take matters in our own hands?

and took the time to formulate plans

[i think] the world would look a whole lot different

if broken were easily fixed

I feel tragic. Slow. And just a little bit broken.

Colourful enough and busy enough to hold it together, but there is a difficult layer of not-okay that affects everything else in a negative way.

How do you know that you're right?

If you're not nervous anymore.

It's not so bad, it's not so bad.

And when you keep telling yourself that, it becomes much easier to keep going, living life just enough to get by. That is how I've been. In school, relationships, ministry, family, Jesus, everything. I can smile and laugh and nod in appreciation but my heart isn't here. It hasn't been here for a while now, and I'm pretty anxious to find out how long I can keep going like this before it becomes detrimental. Maybe it already is, but that doesn't scare me nearly enough to want to fix it. Fixing it will take too much effort, too much time, and too much discipline. I don't have any of that. I'm going to run out of things to give soon, and when that moment comes I'll have expected it but never done anything about it.

When I feel scattered and disillusioned, the best thing has always been having something whole to come back to. But now it isn't whole. It is broken into many pieces. And even though standing up and gluing them together sounds simple enough to do, I haven't been able to find the motivation to do it. I'm not really sure that I know how anymore.

words

The day I saw in your eyes
departure, I enrolled in a Berlitz course
to learn the language of loss

The pronouns are simple,
but the verbs of existence
are all irregular and hard to learn.

P.K. Saha

_________________

I know now that I can make it through more than I thought, with less than I thought. I know better than to believe that the changes are over, and I know better than to believe the next ones will be easier, but I’ve learned the hard way that change is one of God’s greatest gifts and one of his most useful tools. I’ve learned the hard way that change can push us, pull us, rebuke and remake us. It can show us who we’ve become, in the worst ways, and also in the best ways. I’ve learned that it’s not something to run away from, as though we could, and I’ve learned that in many cases, change is not a function of life’s cruelty but instead a function of God’s graciousness.

Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet.

the reason why

I'm not sure how it's going to turn out, except I'll die in the end, she said. So, really, what could go wrong?

Lately I have been thinking about purpose. About what makes me do the things I do, what is my motivation, and what is the reasoning behind my thoughts. And you know why I think it matters? I'm reading in I Corinthians, where Paul says,

If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men.

It's just like what Marx said.

Religion is, indeed, the self-consciousness and self-esteem of man who has either not yet won through to himself, or has already lost himself again...Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.

There really would be truth in that, and all faith would be is a fanciful escape, if Jesus' existence was confined to the limitations of human understanding and the things of this life. If Jesus had not risen from the dead, the world really should mock us for holding foolish beliefs. The part that really sells me isn't any sort of historical evidence this world has gone after in an attempt to prove Jesus was real. But it's everything that has become truth after his resurrection. Everything God has done, that I've heard of and seen, were made possible with his decision to bridge the gap for us. In John 14, when Jesus promises the Holy Spirit, he warns that soon the world would not see him anymore, but we would.

There is such an infinite and definite gap between things of heaven and things of this world. But every expression of agape love, every powerful prophecy, every life transformed, every act of justice, every word of truth, is a small piece of heaven crossing over into our natural world. That is what it means to bring his kingdom here on earth. Because we have been given that power. And that is why prayer is so important, because it is God's invitation to intervene. We are given the ability to draw invisible lines between heaven and earth, and make something happen that otherwise wouldn't have because we weren't there to intercede. The Lord listens to the prayers of the righteous, and I want to be one of those righteous people.

You know what is crazy to me? John 14.12.

Everyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.

That means we are capable of doing at least as much as Jesus did, if not more. It is not a question of degree but rather of the condition of our heart, and whether we will bring glory to the Father. Not everyone is gifted in the same way, the reason for which is obvious. But we each have the exact same potential of what Jesus promises if we are available for him to use us. If something will influence our reality enough to turn our hearts and attention towards God, he will reach down out of heaven. It is like what he promises in 2 Chronicles 7.14.

If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

Sometimes I find myself past believing he can or will heal our land. It is entirely overwhelming, to the point of being unbelievable. It seems there are so many "if" clauses that must happen on our part and I just don't see it happening. In the right instances, I realize it is not my place to question that. And this is where purpose originates.

Anyone can slay a dragon, he told me. But try waking up every morning and loving the world all over again. That's what takes a real hero.

Isn't that funny? Anyone who the Lord calls his own can command life from death and speak healing into people's lives. That is not a reflection at all of us or what we are capable of doing. It simply reveals God as the one who gives life to the dead, and calls things that are not as though they were (Romans 4.17). What is a much bigger deal is having the heart to be used by God at all. And that requires so much more out of us. I think if it were entirely up to me, I would want a job to earn as much money as possible so I could buy pretty clothes and shiny things. Any desires outside of that is not from me because they are not of this world. And any ability to love the world and the people in it is most definitely not from me, because so much of the time all people do is break your heart when they steal, kill and destroy.

You know what got me thinking so much about this. Ty talked about simplicity at Epic yesterday. I was proud of him for taking on that chapter since there was so much information it was overwhelming. Much like I was proud of Eric for speaking on fasting, because it is such an intimidating subject. But Foster lists so many practical aspects to think about in order to simplify our lives. It made me reconsider what I want and how I want to spend my time. You know what I honestly would spend my money on right now if I had it. A 17-in macbook pro and another tattoo. Isn't that weird? Go ahead, ask me why. I have the strangest, messiest priorities. Leading a simple life is just breaking it down to the essentials so God can permeate the rest.

When I was little, two of my biggest prayers (that resulted from my biggest fears) were that I wouldn't go blind, and that Jesus would come before anyone in my family died. I realized if it really came down to simplifying and giving things up for Jesus, the only thing I hold on to tighter than anything is my family. I would not lose purpose and I would not lose Jesus, but I certainly would lose a lot of motivation to pursue either one. It's funny, because Katie and I were talking after Ty spoke, and rather than being hung up on the part of giving up material possessions she was reflecting on how difficult it would be to give up relationships. Should have known that is where her heart is because it's Katie, but I realized afterward that that is where my heart is also. And yet Jesus asks us to even forego saying goodbye to our families as the cost of following him (Luke 9.61-62).

What a crazy thought. But following Jesus is my purpose. It is the reason why I am able to see what really goes on in this world and not dream of everything I would do to take myself out of it. Sometimes I still do, when things are starting to turn black. But Jesus has never made himself too complicated or too distant to warrant any doubt of whether he is worth it.