Choosing Not to Remember

Today my pastor preached on grace, and he said something that really stuck with me. He was talking about how often we hear that old saying "forgive and forget." Then he said, "God doesn't forget our sins. He just chooses not to remember them. He chooses not to appoint them to us."

This makes so much more sense to me than saying that God forgets our sins. God is omnipotent, and all-knowing, so how can He be forgetful? I don't think He can. But He can choose not to remember our sins, not to focus on them or use them against us. When we live under God's grace, this is exactly what He does. If I asked Him, certainly He could rattle off every single bad thing I've ever done; but because I have chosen to accept His free gift of grace, He chooses not to.

I think we have to learn to do the same. Forgive and forget doesn't work for me. When it comes to being wronged, my mind can be like a steel trap. I haven't forgotten the ways I've been hurt by others -- oftentimes many years after the fact. However, I can choose to think about all the wrong that has been done to me and remember it every time that person's name comes up in conversation or every time we meet. I can even try to use it to my favor if the two of us happen to get into an argument. Or I can choose not to remember it, not to bring it up again, not to use it against them -- just as I wouldn't want the other person to use any of my past failings against me.

I'm going to work on choosing not to remember the faults and sins of others, just as in Christ, God has chosen not to remember mine.

Psalm 23

I read the 23rd Psalm this morning, and even though I've heard and read it a ton of times, I heard it differently today. It's nothing ground-breaking really -- just the fact that as I read it I saw it more as a promise from the Lord. I know it's David writing it, but I heard the Lord promising to be with me all throughout my life. And to be with me in different ways at different times. I saw the psalm as a statement about what our journey in this life is like with God at our side. As I read the psalm, I put the words "in my life" in front of each line to reinforce how God is with me.

For example:

In my life, He lets me rest in green pastures, he leads me beside peaceful streams.
In my life, He renews my strength. . .
In my life, even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for He is close beside me.
In my life, my cup overflows with blessing.
In my life, surely His goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life. . .

This last one is my favorite. I love the verb "pursue." To think about the Lord pursuing me all my days with goodness and unfailing love is amazing. God is actively looking for ways to bestow His goodness and love upon me! How awesome is that?

Stuff

When I started packing up the boxes in my apartment in preparation for our move, I couldn't believe how much stuff I had. But that really hit home when I unpacked the boxes here at the new house. Our new house is more than twice as big as the apartment we were living in and somehow we still have more than enough stuff to fill it. At our old apartment, the spare bedroom served as my office, extra closet space, a holding place for Estith's tools, all of his musical instruments, and the props for my company! It's a wonder I was able to get any work done in there!

At any rate, when we moved we didn't move right into our house but rather to my parent's house while we were waiting to close on the house. My parents graciously allowed us to store our stuff in one of their garage spaces. It was weird seeing all of our boxes and furniture filling that spac.e. All of my earthly possessions condensed into one area. And for the 2+ months it took us to close (longer than we'd expected!), we lived out of a couple of suitcases.

And to be honest, when I packed up my boxes and then again when I unpacked them, I felt guilty. Thinking about all that I have and how little others have made me want to start getting rid of stuff left and right. And yet, is that the answer? It's so easy to pack up a few garbage bags of extra clothes and take them to the Salvation Army or Goodwill, and yet, I'm not sure that's the answer. I read a book about simplicity in which the author Chris Heuertz said that we have to be careful with simplicity. It can become an idol. For example, why do we want to simplify? Is it to make ourselves feel better and assuage our conscience? Or do we forsake buying something that we don't need in order to use that money to help someone else? Simplicity for others vs. simplicity for self. That has given me a lot to think about. And then I love what Shane Claiborne had to say -- "If you're not willing to give something up, you don't own it -- it owns you."

I'm still trying to figure it all out -- how is God asking me to simplify? And how can I make it about the needs of others rather than about making myself feel better?

Day 2 of the Journey -- Thirst

Today I wasn't such a nice person. I was easily annoyed. I was impatient. I spoke my mind when maybe I should have held my tongue. And I don't have any excuse for it really and am thankful that I live under grace as a result. However, perhaps my actions were compounded by something else. Now I'm not making an excuse for myself, but what I'm about to mention couldn't possibly have helped the situation.

So, today in my "Hole in Our Gospel" Study Guide, I was asked to forsake water for 12 hours in order to have a deeper understanding of what many people in the world experience daily. I didn't think it would be nearly as hard as it was. I've fasted on a few occasions (need to work on bettering that!), but I love food much more than I love water so I thought it might be easier. Boy was I wrong!

I woke up and my first impulse was to get a drink of water. My mouth felt dry and had that uncomfortable just-woke-up feeling, but I held off my urge to wash it away. Since we've putting together the new house, I've been going to bed much later than usual and waking up early. It was 6am and I needed an energy boost. I thought about some coffee. But realized that wouldn't be possible without water. And so the day was off to a shaky start. All day long I had that dry feeling in my mouth. And the funny thing is, I didn't crave juice or pop or any other beverage -- just plain water. By the time the end of my water fast arrived, I grabbed a glass and guzzled down as much as I could. I thought if I didn't I might snap, and I didn't feel like being a jerk anymore!

As I reflected on the day, I realized that having no water was difficult for me while I was merely sitting at a computer in a room at perfect temperature -- in other words, I wasn't enduring scorching temperatures or having to do some kind of physical labor that was toilsome and burdensome. I couldn't imagine being in a place where it's excruciatingly hot and on top of that I have to walk for miles looking for water and then if I find it, lugging it back all the miles I've already walked. (This was definitely a good activity for me to do considering the fact that the story I'm sharing this summer through World of Difference is all about the global water crisis in Haiti! )

I know that mine was a simple little sacrifice compared to what other people are really facing, but it definitely taught me how much I take water for granted and how much I crave it when I can't have it. I guess it's easy to do the same thing with God too. And that reminded me of a story that I once read. It goes like this:

Each day a young student would ask his teacher, "How shall I find God?" And his teacher would tell him, "Through desire." The student protested, "But I love God with all of my heart. So why haven't I found him?" Well, it just so happened that one day the teacher and student were passing through a river. Unexpectedly, the teacher took hold of the student's head and pushed it underwater, holding it there. The student began to panic, his arms were flailing as he struggled to reach the surface. After a few minutes of this, the teacher finally let go and the student emerged gasping for air. "Why did you do that?" he asked angrily. The teacher simply said, "When you are given the grace to gasp for God the same way you were gasping for air, you will know that you have found Him."

I want to have this kind of a desire or thirst for God. The Bible says that Jesus gives us living water. And just as my body craved water over juice, pop or any other beverage -- so I hope that I would thirst for God more than I thirst for anything else. And I pray that I wouldn't take Him or any of the blessings He's given me -- including water -- for granted.

A Six Week Journey

I'm beginning a six-week journey. . . Take a look!

The season of Lent begins today with Ash Wednesday and lasts about 40 days. Lent is a time for reflection and preparation leading up to the Church's greatest celebration -- Easter. This lent, per the suggestion of a friend, I have decided to try blogging each day -- reflecting on what God is doing in my life and what He has already done.

Some say that the forty day time period of lent coincides with Jesus' forty days of being tempted in the desert by Satan. In many ways, I find that living in this world is akin to being in the desert. The world is not always a hospitable place. At times I feel lonely or like no one understands me. I don't face physical hunger or thirst, but I face a daily hunger and thirst for something more than this world offers me. I want my life to matter, to make a difference, but when you feel like you're in the desert you wonder if it does. Like Jesus, I face temptations. I am tempted to want the things of this world more than I want the things of God.

My life in this world is like Lent. Thankfully, it doesn't end in the desert with me shriveling up and dying from heat-stroke and lack of water. No, it ends with me being given a river of life that flows out of me and an invitation to drink the water of life without charge! Just as the Church prepares for Lent in anticipation of Easter, Jesus' resurrection, so my life is a preparation for the great celebration that is to come -- the resurrection and my life in Heaven.

During this lenten season, in addition to blogging I will be doing a study series based on the book, "The Hole in Our Gospel" by Rich Stearns, the president of WorldVision USA. The book and daily action journal are about poverty and justice issues and how the Church has a duty to respond. I truly hope that God uses the series to move in my heart, giving me a deeper love for Him and His people. If you are interested in getting materials (some of which are free and can be found online) to do the series, you can find more information at: www.worldvisionacts.org

And now, here goes. . .

Reflection: Day 1
I just moved into my first home and have spent the last few days unpacking boxes. I like for everything to have its own place so thankfully there are lots of shelves and storage areas in this house! Yesterday I was unpacking a box that contained photo albums from childhood up to present day. Since I hadn't looked through some in quite awhile, I decided that before I put them on the shelf, I would open each one at random and look at one page of photos. I thought it might break up the monotony of unpacking things. Little did I know, it would turn into a much greater blessing than that!

Many albums contained pictures from college. I saw photos of my friends from Tuesday Night Fellowship (TNF), and I remembered all of the fun that we had together. Pictures from the TNF leadership retreat I went on my freshmen year reminded me of how older members had invested in me. Pictures of the TNF skit team that I joined my first week of college and that I later led made me realize that any ability that I have or desire to create Christian sketches that illustrate the gospel in a fresh way sprang from time spent with that group. Pictures of our overseas mission trips made me think about how God sparked in me a love of other cultures that has led me to travel and to advocate for the less fortunate around the world. Could this be the place where the seed for my work/ministry with World of Difference was planted? Seeing the smiling faces of my friends as we ministered in Jamaica, Trinidad and Barbados also reminded me that it isn't just serving others that brings joy. It's serving with others. There is so much joy when we build community and serve together.

Each album that I opened spoke to me about how good God has been to me. The relationships He's given me, the places He's taken me, the joy, love and peace I've found in my relationship with Him. And I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for how God has used every thing in my life -- from "random" encounters to "innocent" invitations. The girl who invited me to TNF the first time never went back. I never left, and her invitation got me where I needed to be. The person who invited me to the Salvation Army in Madrid, the church where I later met my husband, never went back. But again, her invitation got me where I needed to be. Today both my husband and I are very involved in the ministries of the Salvation Army -- including arts and missions. Coincidence? I think not. God is that good. If you don't know Him or if you've forgotten how good He is, I pray that you wouldn't wait any longer. He can do incredible things in your life. He has in mine, and I'm so grateful for it!

See you tomorrow. . .

I've been reading the book, "Kingdom Without Borders: The Untold Story of Global Christianity," by Miriam Adeney. It's a wonderful book which talks about how the gospel is growing and spreading across the world. What I particularly like about it is the way in which it shows how each culture receives Christ in its own unique way, often maintaining many of their cultural practices, but coming to see them in a new way in light of Christ.

The book comes to a close with a Thai story by Kukrit Pramoj. It is a re-telling of the story of blind Bartimaeus. In this retelling, after receiving his sight, blind Bartimaeus is not overjoyed, but rather overwhelmed. He sees the sewage and flies, the children in rags, the people with skin diseases. He sees the weary, bitter, hardened faces of the street vendors. And he sees the face of the girl he loved in his blindness. Having been burned in a fire, she has an oozing sore where her face should be, and he cannot stand to look at her. Then he sees Jesus crucified. Confronted with the ugliness of the world, he begs Jesus to make him blind again.

Supposedly, the story is a Buddhist response to the gospel. In Buddhism, life is empty, meaningless, and ugly, and since we can't do much about it, we should just try to rise above it -- to a consciousness that allows us to be on top of all the ugliness and suffering. It must be nice -- to rise above all of life's suffering, but a Christian cannot respond that way. When we see the ugliness of the world, we have to think the opposite. We have to think, "This is not the way that God intended things to be. So how can I be part of making it different?"

I find this story fascinating because when Bartimaeus asks to have his sight removed, he is choosing ignorance. Bartimaeus begs for sight, but when he actually sees, he is overwhelmed by it. He wants to pretend it's not there or at least find a way of escaping the fact that it is.

I am convicted by this. How often would I like to choose ignorance! But having traveled to many places in the world where people live in poverty and even seeing its affects in my own community, I can't. It's too late! I've seen the suffering in the world, and I can't go back. I can, however, choose my response. I can bury my head in my hands and act like it doesn't exist or I can ask God what part He wants me to play in making it better.

Jesus came to give sight to the blind. Our God is not one who wants us to pretend that suffering doesn't exist. He is one who wants us to look right at it and be changed. That's why He is still opening eyes to this day. I love Him even more for that.

Banging My Head Against the Wall

Today I feel like I'm banging my head against a wall. Actually, I've felt that way for much of this week. I've got 280 pages in the book that I'm working on but I desperately need some feedback for it. I'm trying to finish it but I feel like I'm operating in a bubble. There are plenty of other things I could be doing, other ideas to develop, while I wait for some readers to get back to me with their feedback, and yet, I find that I don't feel like doing any of them. I've been here before. When you have the time, sometimes the inspiration isn't there. When you've got the inspiration, you don't have the time.

And then sometimes I wonder what my problem is. I mean, I should be extremely happy. I'm doing all of the things that I love to do on a daily basis -- writing, performing, creating -- and yet something is missing. I get to do everything I want to do, but. . . it's not the way I imagined it would be. I guess I never saw myself doing all of this alone. I work better when I'm able to collaborate, bounce ideas off of people, hear other people's ideas, and put it all together, instead of waking up each day and trying to get excited about it all alone. I can't decide if this is a discipline that I'm supposed to be learning or if this discontent is a sign that I need to be doing something else, or at least doing it in a different way than I am now.

My life feels like a rollercoaster. There have been stretches of time where I wake up early in the morning and can hardly wait to sit down at the computer to get all of my ideas down. I write for hours without stopping and even when my husband gets home in the evening I still haven't had time to finish everything I wanted to do. And then there are days when I don't even feel like pulling up my manuscript to look at it. The hours of work I spent the days before seem like a waste of time because I'm wondering if anything I wrote will ever make sense to anyone else, or if anyone else will ever even read it, or even if what I thought sounded great yesterday isn't really the worst bit of prose ever. I guess that's part of the struggle of being an artist. It can be a lonely road.

And some days, I feel so tired of flying solo. I'm a one-woman show when what I'm craving is to be part of an ensemble.