To Win

My thoughts jump trains often, but I guess it goes to show how everything and everyone is connected. This is a preface to the seemingly random thoughts that I'm about to share. 

Ever since reading What'd You Expect? a few months ago, I've been struck with the idea that the root of all our problems and sin is pride. Pride is the worst.  

It all comes down to pride. Our kingdom come. Ours. Our kingdom over his kingdom, her kingdom, their kingdom... Our kingdom over God's kingdom. Dare I say that the majority of the disappointments we experience in life are because things didn’t go the way we anticipated?

I ordered a really cute dress, but it came too late and it didn’t even fit me.

I’m putting all this time and effort at the gym, but I’m not getting the results I want.

I wanted to get to Point B at a certain time, but because of careless drivers, I'm now an hour behind.

In all things, the root problem is always pride. 

We don't account for others and their problems and how it will most likely affect us. (Again, another reason to believe that we are all connected.)

Every day I wake up, I'm in battle. I'm fighting my sin, my lust, the weight of my debt. I'm fighting lies that I'm not good enough, thin enough, talented enough. This whole life is a battle, because it's a period of in-betweenness. From the moment you were born to the moment you die, that's life. And because I believe in eternity, I have to also believe that much of what the world strives for (i.e.financial success, becoming famous) is in vain.

So there I was, yesterday morning, getting out of the shower and I had this thought, "Here I go, another day in battle, as I get ready for the day. Am I ready? How will I win today?" And then it hit me. Maybe the only way to win each day's battle is to walk away from the fight, to surrender. Let me explain.

We are obsessed with war. We want peace, but in general, we're too prideful to sit still and to listen to what the world really needs. What the world really needs is people who care. It's hard to care about something when we aren't directly affected by it- when it isn't personal. That's why I believe that stories have to be shared. That's why we need people who are willing to share... but of course, I know that this is not always enough because reading someone's story without knowing them doesn't always 'hit a home run'. But I want to argue against this reasoning, because more often than not, stories are helping people.

How do we win? We win by taking the focus off of ourselves. If we are focused about caring for one other, instead of ourselves, there'd be no problem with pride. We aren't thinking about ourselves. We win by humbling ourselves, challenging ourselves not to waste another second of our precious time thinking about 'me', 'myself', or 'I. Stop being believing those lies you are telling yourself. You're worried about yourself, then? Why? Because you're thinking about yourself. I know it sounds repetitive, but just a day, a couple hours or even 20 minutes... think about someone else. Something I like to do is to imagine the people around me as babies or as kids. What kind of family did they grow up in? Did they have a lot of money growing up? Were they bullied or teased as a kid? Have they ever experienced homelessness, heartbreak, or the loss of a loved one? 

Try it; it puts things in perspective. 

God's kingdom is strange. Everything we've ever been taught is quite opposite from what Jesus teaches us. The last will be first. Those who are poor are blessed. Those who are weeping, those who mourn. Or how about the parable of the woman giving her last two copper coins compared to the rich folks giving up large amounts of money? The world tells us to think about ourselves, but Jesus teaches us to think about others.

Wanna win today's battle? Surrender to this. Surrender to God.

- D

Stolen

I had been living in Rainier Valley for a little over a year. I had heard stories about several of my friends' cars being stolen...but it had never happened to me. I had this arrogant mentality, thinking that I was the exception to the rule, so I never locked my truck doors. Besides, who would want to take a 40 year-old truck? Especially one that is bright blue and can't go over 70 mph? 

It was in the middle of the week, and as I walked out to the driveway to leave for work in the morning, I stopped as I didn't see my truck. "Did I park it in the back last night?" I jogged to the back of my house, peeking around the corner of my fence looking for a hint of blue. Nope. Nothing. "What in the world? What did I do last night?" I definitely did nothing. I know I parked it in the driveway, which could only mean one thing...somebody took my ol' Datsun. A small feeling of panic rose in my throat as my heart beat faster. I called my boss first; I told him my truck was stolen, I don't think it could've gone far, and I would keep him updated as soon as it's found, but I probably would miss work that day. I called the police next, told them my truck was stolen and gave them all my details. I ran inside because I knew my roommate Kyle was still home, and I could probably borrow his car to drive around and look for it. No one knows that truck like I do. No one can drive it (well, if at all) except for me. 

Kyle gave me his keys, and I drove quickly along the streets around my neighborhood, trying to put myself in the shoes of a car thief, looking for the easiest streets to drive on with that old thing. No luck. I couldn't find it close, and I wasn't about to drive all over Seattle looking for it. Ugh. 

As I went back inside, I plopped down on a chair in my kitchen feeling defeated. Then another feeling set in...rage. I was burning. I had never had anything stolen from me, and for my truck that I had gotten so attached to to be just taken quietly in the night from my driveway...I felt so violated. How could somebody be so selfish and prideful to just take something that isn't theirs? I don't know what I would have done if I had found the people with my truck as I was driving around, but it wouldn't have been pretty. In fact, looking back, I'm pretty sure the Lord kept me from finding them.

Only a couple hours later the police called saying they had found it. It was abandoned in a field only a mile away from my house. The only reason I never checked that area was because it was across a major road that had a long stoplight, and I figured those thieves wouldn't have wanted to deal with that in a quick getaway. Kyle drove me over to where my truck was. I couldn't believe it...the engine was still warm. They had just left it not too long ago! If I had driven over there, I definitely would've seen the thieves. Again, I think that was the Lord. I looked inside, and it was pretty destroyed. Thankfully, it was mostly electrical damage. They hadn't taken anything except for my speakers and aftermarket gauges. But they had reached under my dash and ripped apart all of the wiring in their attempt to hotwire it. I had to chuckle a bit. They didn't know about my electrical fuel pump. They had cut power to it, and probably just drove the truck until it used up all the gas that was in the lines to the engine. They just ripped out what accessories they could hold and bailed as they realized they weren't getting any further. I eventually got the truck home and felt a little better, knowing I wouldn't have to deal with buying a new car...but the rage still stayed in my heart. 

Maybe a week later, a friend came over to my place because I was going to work on her car. She heard about my truck being stolen and asked me about it. As I explained what happened, and told her about how angry I was, she asked me a question that stopped my heart from burning. I don't know if she knew what she was saying, or what the question would mean to me, but she asked, "Can you imagine that that anger is what the Lord feels when we sin against him?" 

I don't know what I responded, but I think I mumbled something like, "Yeah....pretty crazy." When she left, I started thinking. Oh my goodness. I had never felt anger like this before. Never. Of course I had been angry, but this was personal. And I didn't deserve what happened to me. But it hit me...that is what the Lord feels about our sin against him. He is holy, deserving nothing ever done against him, and his rage must be exponentially greater than what I was feeling. What happened to me was one thing, one day, from one person (or two). The Lord is sinned against by billions of people, continually, every day. And how did he respond? 

Jesus.

His response to our sin against him was Jesus. His only son. His perfect son.

He did not pour out his wrath on us sinners. He does not smite us as soon as we sin against him. And he also does not just chuckle and say, "It's no big deal! Just some little sin." Oh no, trust me...our God is a holy and just God. Our sin matters. His wrath was in full in response to our sin. But he chose to pour out that wrath on his son Jesus Christ as he hung naked, bloody, and beaten on that cross 2,000 years ago. His perfect son Jesus! He did nothing wrong! And yet he took on the full weight of the consequences of our sin. 

I was shaken and somber as all of this hit me. Because I was angry, I had a small picture into what the Lord must feel about sin. And I saw that the way he deals with it is not of this world. I wanted to murder those thieves. I doubt I would have done that if I had actually found them, but that doesn't change the hate that was in my heart. Looking at what God did for us, responding like him would've been me driving, pursuing these thieves, but upon finding them, not taking out my rage on them, but saying, "I forgive you guys. Take my keys. You don't deserve this truck, but it looks like you need it." and bearing the loss of a vehicle on myself with no bitterness in my heart.

Even though the rage was slowly subsiding within me, imagining that kind of response was still unthinkable. No way could I have done that. But after spending some time thinking about all of this, my heart did change. I ended up praying for those guys. I didn't know where or who they were, but I hoped somehow that they would hear the good news of what Jesus has done for us sinners. And I knew that I was just as sinful as those thieves. I have stolen my own set of things from the Lord. And it is paid for completely by my glorious Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Who did not stay dead, by the way. :)

Why Work Hard?

What difference does a day make? Do it today, do it tomorrow, it will still get done. Unless this happens every day. Unless there is a deadline. Why do I follow deadlines? Who created these and why do I respect them? God made days. God gave us a deadline. God is beyond time. But God subjected himself to the framework of time, through his Word, Jesus Christ. He chose a time to create me. He chose a time to save me. He chose the times I would change, grow, and die. Who am I to disobey? Who am I to say I am above time? Who am I to procrastinate? God is glorified through obedience, and I will praise him through my timeliness.

Procrastination is folly, if not insubordination.

When my good friend, Jonathan, said he wanted to ask me to help him with a project, I was curious and amused. When he told me he wanted me to help write a small part of a book he was working on, I was excited. When he told me what he wanted me to write about, I laughed. I think just on the inside, though. Getting things done. Working hard. I have had several people tell me that I am one of the hardest workers they know. My first thought is to credit that to my father, who taught me to work hard. But being away from home, and outside of the authority of my dad, it's not something that he MAKES me do anymore. And yet, I still do. Although, often times I would disagree. Maybe I do work hard, and others see that. But what they don't see is the war that wages inside of me before I do any work. Procrastination is always a temptation. What I want to do versus what I have to do or what I need to do. There are many days when I'm faced with the to-do list that is calling to be done for the day, and the thoughts enter my mind: "Who is making this list?" "If I don't do it today, but do it tomorrow, what's the big deal? It's only one day difference." "My oil being changed a day later is not going to kill anyone." "Getting groceries tomorrow is not going to cause me to starve, I can eat out today." You get the idea, and I'm sure I am not alone in this thought process. If I am the one making my to-do list, then I am in control, and if I say that it doesn't need to be done, who can argue? And in a 10 sec train of thought, boom, one task is delayed, and guess what? It's not the end of the world.

what I have found over the years (and I haven't lived that many years) is that that train of thought leads to a disgusting and unfulfilling state of living.

It all goes back to who I am as a person. Whether I believe in a God or not, there is an outside governing restraint on my life: time. I will die one day. And that means I only have so many seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years to live. So if there is a God, then he has given me a lifetime to do what I was created to do. Ultimately, he has created my to-do list. He made me, chose which family I would be born in, and where I would be living. He chose which governing authorities I am under, and what people my life is based around. The to-do list I thought was my own no longer seems to be just mine, but Gods. When I decide to not do what is in front of me for the day, I choose to disobey what God has given for me to do.

Alone

The idea of being alone has been on my mind often in the last few weeks. I don’t mean alone in regards to being single, without a significant other. I don’t even mean being alone, by yourself, physically either. But alone. Alone in my thoughts, alone in my convictions. Alone in a room full of people. There have been conversations where something the other person would say would leave a part of me confused and wondering why all of a sudden, I didn’t know what to say for fear of contradicting them, for fear of being the minority in my thoughts. 

I’m often alone. This is how it seems and I’m beginning to accept that. This is far from a cry of pity, but a bold utterance of the state of my soul. I don’t want comfortable relationships. For too long, I’ve been okay with that. It’s time to grow up and dig past the green grass and the pretty foliage. I want to dig deeper, into the rich soil, down to the roots. I’ve avoided conversations that may test me, because I’m a highly sensitive person. I feel the feelings. I feel many of them. Because I am prideful, I don’t want to appear like an emotional mess. I am emotional—yes, but I am not a mess. I will cry. I have cried, for the things that I think are different from the majority.

I’m not called to a comfortable life. If you believe in Jesus and his death on the cross, you aren’t either. I know that I will have to leave what I’ve known all my life to move forward. Jesus says that we are blessed when people hate us and when they exclude us, and revile us. He tells us to go as far as rejoicing in these moments, because our reward is great in heaven.

There are so many stories and implications in the Bible that tell us that this place here is not our home. If we are comfortable in it, that’s a problem because we were not made for this world. We were made to be home with Him. 

As a believer, I am knowingly choosing to be critiqued, insulted and even hated. I don’t often get the question of how I can believe in God, when so many things in the world seem to be spiraling out of control. I’ve always chosen the route of loving people where they’re at. To me, this is the best way to show others the love of Christ. But in the deepest, deep, deep parts of me, I want more. I don’t know what that looks like or what that means. I’m just not satisfied.

"Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth."

If our minds are not set on heaven, our life on earth will look vastly different. The things that world calls important will become large in our minds, and shape the way that we live. 

In a world where life after death is not sure, people will live every day, ravenously seeking after pleasures and comfort in what this world has to offer. If the day of your death is approaching, and that is all you have to live, why not take all that you can, to enjoy all that you can, before your time is up?

I guarantee that you think this way, even if you believe in Jesus and in an eternal life, because I see the ways I think this way too. We are selfish people, and we want what we want. And there are lies that we believe all too easily that say that we deserve these things, it is our right, that it is far from wrong to just take what is in front of us if we want it. 

As Jesus is starting his time of ministry on earth and describing to his disciples what life looks like following him, he explains in three different ways that to be his follower is not easy and comfortable. It requires sacrifice, and an attitude that says we cannot rest our comfort on anything of this world. Not on our home, not on our work, not on our family. And those are three things that many would argue are important and worth living for. 

This is crazy. 

Who is God, that he would tell us to turn from everything we love to follow him? That his call is more important than our parents and our reputation? 

(to be continued)

7/9/15