dying to live

I recently read The Fine Line by Kary Oberbrunner. In the latter portions of the book, Oberbrunner describes some of the trials that a friend of his, Mark Palmer, went through as he gave his life radically to Christ and His kingdom. Mark's story moved me deeply as I read about his gut-wrenching losses and physical battles that eventually claimed his life. In the last chapter of the book, Oberbrunner shared a journal entry posted by Mark. This journal entry touched me deeply and I want to share it with you:

Wednesday, February, 19th, 2003 11:07am
A long while ago my friend Joe Boyd from Vegas posted this on his journal, and I then posted it on mine. I rediscovered it in my paper journal last night, and it deserves a reposting. It continues to be an encouragement to me when I get beat up for doing what God has called me to do.
Expect pain.
Expect to be misunderstood.
Expect to be persecuted and expect it to come first from those who follow Jesus.
Expect to be maligned, attacked, and ridiculed from all sides.
Expect to grow tired and weary.
Expect to want to give up.
Expect to lose many old friends. Expect to lose all of your friends where the "church" is the central reason for your friendship. Only your deep and Christ-centered friendships wil endure.
Expect to be labeled (a freak, a hippie, a cult leader, a quitter, a fraud, an idealist, a purist, a heretic, a divider, a communist, a jerk, an egomaniac, a devil worshiper). Yes, I've been called them all to my face.
Expect to weep...deeper and stronger than you ever have.
Expect to doubt your calling, your convictions, your path, your faith, and your life.
Expect to be lonely.
Expect to be seen as utterly unsuccessful.
Expect to die...nothing will be left of you. You will cease to exist. The last things in you to die will be your desire to be great for God and your desire to be happy. And then, you will finally...
Live. Expect life. Expect meaning. Expect to finally understand the prophets and apostles. Expect to know Jesus and his life...for that is all that you will have...and that is all that you need.

When I read that, I realized that not everything inside of me that needs to die is dead. There's still too much "me" in me. There's too much in me that wants to be great. There's too much in me that wants credit for the good things that happen (although I don't seem to want the blame for the bad things). There's too much in me that clings to safety and security. There's too much in me that wants "the good life" (whatever that is). I want to know the life that comes through dying to myself. I want learn to let go of all the temporary things to which I cling. I want to experience His life and find that it is truly all I need. Jesus, help me...change my heart.

mad at god

If there's one thing you can count on in this life it's that kids will always say what's on their mind. I can't help but wonder why that always happens in a public place when they're commenting about someone they see. For example, when you're standing in line at the grocery store and someone has some type of visible difference, your child will inevitably ask about it...loudly and repeatedly. "Why does that man only have one leg?" "How come that lady has such a big nose?" "Why does that person stink?" "Why does that lady have so many pimples?"

My response to my children usually consists of something like, "I can't believe you said that! Wait until your parents hear about this!" To which, my children normally respond with looks of utter confusion as they fight to hold their heads upright in a futile attempt to avoid whiplash as I whisk them away to another line.

The honesty of children is both beautiful and horrifying. The transparency is beautiful because they share what they are thinking or feeling without fear of rejection, and yet it is horrifying because that kind of transparency can be painful. Pondering the honesty of children makes me think of a story about my oldest nephew, Daniel. When Daniel was only 4 or 5 years old, he was riding in the car with his mom, Debbie. As they were tooling along, Daniel, seemingly out of nowhere, piped up and announced, "I'm mad at God."

Most parents would respond with understandable horror and say something like, "Child! Watch what you say! If God wasn't so merciful you'd be nothing more than a spot on your car seat right now! Now you repent before God kills you!" Fortunately, Debbie was a lot smoother than that. She just played along to see where this conversation would go. She said, "Daniel, why are you mad at God?"

Daniel, with no small measure of irritation, replied, "'Cuz He took my sins away and I wanted to keep them!"

That story still makes me chuckle nearly twenty years later, but then I'm forced to admit that I am a lot like Daniel. There are things inside of me from which I claim to want freedom - sins of anger, sins of unforgiveness, sins of selfishness, sins of pride and arrogance, sins of idolatry (where I want God's stuff more than I want Him). It's all there and I consistently make the claim that I want to be free from those things. But when push comes to shove, when God tries to work on those areas, when He tries to bring the freedom that I claim to want so badly, it's really easy to say, "No thanks. I think I want to keep that one."

I don't think I'm alone. I think most of us have a few things that we're either afraid to surrender or we are simply too stubborn to let go. Maybe it's time to stop getting mad at God for trying to heal us and let Him kill those things in our lives that are killing us. It's just a thought.

hope

I love Peter. The reason I like Peter so much is that when I read about him in the New Testament I am greatly encouraged. Here's what I mean: Peter was a brash, arrogant, loud-mouthed, impetuous man who has a hard time figuring out what it means to follow Christ. I know some would say, "Ah, but wasn't it Peter who said that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the living God?" That's true, but even then he didn't really get it. Immediately following Peter's amazing revelation, Jesus took his disciples aside and began telling them about his impending death and resurrection. Peter takes it upon himself to pull Jesus aside and say, "Jesus, let me help you out here. I think I need to correct your theology. You're the Messiah. You're not going to die. You need to stop saying that." In response, Jesus looks at this man who had received an amazing revelation from God concerning Jesus' true identity, and calls him the devil...I feel much better about myself now, thank you.

The thing about Peter is that there were things inside of him that either he couldn't see or he didn't want to see (maybe both). For example, just before Jesus' arrest and subsequent crucifixion, Peter made a bold promise to Jesus. He said, "Jesus, I don't know about all these other losers, but I promise you that I'll follow you all the way to death! You can count on me, Jesus!" Jesus looked at Peter and said, "Peter, you're not even going to make it through the night. You'll deny that you know me three times before this night is over." And Peter, in his arrogance, argued with Jesus, "No. I know you're the Messiah and all, but you've got this one wrong. I'll die for you!"

Fast forward a few hours. Jesus has now been arrested and is in the process of being railroaded by the religious rulers of the day, and one by one, three people recognize Peter as one of His followers. Fearing for his own life, Peter did exactly what Jesus said he would do...he denied Jesus three times before the night was over.This man, who had boasted about his unending loyalty to Jesus, was forced to face the reality that there was something very dark and cowardly inside of him. It was an excruciatingly painful moment. He ran out and wept in the bitter realization that he wasn't who he thought he was.

I've been there. I've been in that place where I was forced to recognize something hideous in my heart that I vigorously denied existed and desperately wanted to ignore. There have been many moments where I have been forced to face my prejudices, my unforgiveness, my arrogance, my stubbornness, and my idolatry. I have been forced to face the reality that I was not who I thought I was. In those moments, my response has been much like Peter's - great sorrow and despair. I've lived in that moment of unbelievable shame at what I had just done. I've walked through the valley where I was certain there was no way God could love me. Peter was there. I've been there. You probably have been, too.

The beautiful thing about Peter's story is that it didn't end there. In the midst of his sorrow and shame, Jesus still loved Peter. In fact, He completely restored His relationship with him after the resurrection. He wasn't caught off guard by Peter's shortcomings, and He isn't surprised by mine. Jesus didn't wait for Peter to get his act together before he loved him and that gives me great hope. I know there are still blind spots in my life where I think I have it all together, but the reality is something very different. One of my prayers is for courage...courage to face the things inside of me that I don't want to know about. It may be painful, but it's the only way to find real freedom.

haunted by confusion

I was reading earlier today from the Gospel of John about the day that Jesus entered into Jerusalem right before he was killed. In verse sixteen of chapter twelve, the author says something that really caught my attention. He writes, "His disciples did not understand these things at first, but when Jesus was glorified, then they remembered that these things had been written about him and had been done to him." In other words, the people closest to Jesus didn't really get what was going on until it was all over and they had the chance to reflect on what had happened. These men and women were completely blind to what God was doing through the events that played out that week in Jerusalem. They had preconceived notions about what Jesus was up to and as a result they were haunted by confusion when things didn't play out the way they thought they should.

The week started out to be everything they dreamed of and more. Jesus was being hailed as the "King of Israel." This fit into their ideas about who Jesus was and what He was trying to accomplish. They assumed that He was going to liberate Israel from a cruel and oppressive oppressor (Rome). They assumed that Jesus was going to restore Israel as a world power. Naturally, they also assumed that when Jesus accomplished this, they would be the leaders of His new government. After all, they were in His inner circle. No doubt they looked forward to their positions of power and authority. I can't help but believe that they may have had thoughts of how Rome would rue the day they tried to conquer God's chosen people! I know I would have.

Then, circumstances changed dramatically. Jesus was arrested, illegally tried, mercilessly beaten, and killed using one of the cruelest forms of execution ever devised by men - crucifixion. Suddenly, a future that seemed bright and hopeful turned dark and fearsome. Their dreams of power and authority evaporated as they watched the man who had the power to raise people from the dead breathe his final breath. All their imaginings of a future where they were people of power melted away like an ice cube thrown to the pavement on a sweltering summer day. They had trusted this man with their future and now He was gone. Nothing made sense any more. Confusion reigned. I can't even begin to imagine the cloud of despair that must have descended upon the disciples that week. They didn't understand what God was up to...and they wouldn't until they had the opportunity to look at the events of that week in retrospect.

I'm just like the disciples. I have predetermined ideas about how my life should be and how my future should play out. When my predefined vision of my preferred future doesn't match the reality of my life, I easily become overwhelmed with uncertainty, turmoil, and a sense of bewilderment. In those moments, I find it completely mystifying that God wouldn't use my immense talent and intellect to it's fullest (that last line should be read with as much sarcasm as the reader can muster). The truth is, when things go badly in my life I usually can't see what God is trying to do until after I've walked through the dark valley. Even then, it often seems confusing and is beyond my ability to comprehend.

I'm trying to learn to simply walk with Jesus and trust that He sees a picture of the future that is much bigger than anything I can fathom. I'm trying to learn to trust that He knows what He is doing even when it doesn't make any sense to me. I'm trying to live in the knowledge that His plan is more important then my comfort. I'm trying to learn how to be at peace with the reality that the world does not revolve around me and my desires. God is working to accomplish something that is much bigger than my tiny, insignificant intellect can grasp, and if the fulfillment of that plan requires a measure of pain and heartache for me, so be it. God help me to learn to live like that.