(Sigh.) I love them.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Full Circle.
We all know the expression, “I’ve come full circle.” I’m in a season of full circles. Things in my life God has led me back “around” to just as when I first started, but better than my wildest dreams or expectations. Think Ephesians 3:16-20.
It’s weird. And totally awesome.
Tonight, I stood in a brand new facility. Brand new bricks, mortar, floors, carpets, counters, freshly painted walls, and light fixtures. But this building is so much more than a building. It is where the Body of Believers whom I am privileged to call my church family will move into the next phase of the mission to which God has called us…to forcefully advance the gospel of Jesus Christ in this city and ultimately to the nations. Standing in the auditorium tonight, I realized that we have come full circle. From meeting in small rooms in a dance academy to a space designated for us to walk out that mission 24/7 and not only for a few hours a week. My journey to theVine became real about a year ago, with a big move practically across the state, away from familiar surroundings, rather far away from my family. God called me here. Right here. Tonight, I felt the same giddiness of my first Sunday at theVine a year ago. Standing in the facility for the first time tonight, I felt my heart literally burn from the passion welling up inside of me to smile people to Jesus as I greet them walking in the door, and most of all to care for souls who are hurting and to lead them to the transforming power of Christ. And feeling my unyielding desire to “plant roots” in this strange and unfamiliar city that oddly feels like home to me. Not only has theVine come full circle, but so have I, in my journey to this place. With many, many circles to look forward to. I love it.
I spent this past weekend with the women in my immediate family – my mom, sister, and nieces. Each of them has come full circle in their health, relationships, education, and spiritual journeys. I am awestruck as I watch it unfold. I love it.
I have been living in habitual sin in my financial life. I confessed that sin a couple of weeks ago. I have accountability. I will no longer walk through it privately and in darkness. The light is on it. Hope is here. God has brought me back around, full circle. A tough, tough journey. But I love it (well…I am learning to love it).
God has me on yet another path which may return me to something that I left a long time ago and am not too eager to return to. I was not walking with Him when I experienced it before. But I am now. Now, unlike before, that place is a mission field. I’ve grown comfortable in my “bubble” and He is calling me to something greater. He has brought me full circle. I love it.
Usually, it’s me who is running myself in circles because of my own poor choices, which only serves to leave me disoriented, dizzy, and exhausted. It’s an entirely different experience when God is leading us around. There is hope, purpose, and the promise of a beautiful future.
It’s weird. And totally awesome.
Tonight, I stood in a brand new facility. Brand new bricks, mortar, floors, carpets, counters, freshly painted walls, and light fixtures. But this building is so much more than a building. It is where the Body of Believers whom I am privileged to call my church family will move into the next phase of the mission to which God has called us…to forcefully advance the gospel of Jesus Christ in this city and ultimately to the nations. Standing in the auditorium tonight, I realized that we have come full circle. From meeting in small rooms in a dance academy to a space designated for us to walk out that mission 24/7 and not only for a few hours a week. My journey to theVine became real about a year ago, with a big move practically across the state, away from familiar surroundings, rather far away from my family. God called me here. Right here. Tonight, I felt the same giddiness of my first Sunday at theVine a year ago. Standing in the facility for the first time tonight, I felt my heart literally burn from the passion welling up inside of me to smile people to Jesus as I greet them walking in the door, and most of all to care for souls who are hurting and to lead them to the transforming power of Christ. And feeling my unyielding desire to “plant roots” in this strange and unfamiliar city that oddly feels like home to me. Not only has theVine come full circle, but so have I, in my journey to this place. With many, many circles to look forward to. I love it.
I spent this past weekend with the women in my immediate family – my mom, sister, and nieces. Each of them has come full circle in their health, relationships, education, and spiritual journeys. I am awestruck as I watch it unfold. I love it.
I have been living in habitual sin in my financial life. I confessed that sin a couple of weeks ago. I have accountability. I will no longer walk through it privately and in darkness. The light is on it. Hope is here. God has brought me back around, full circle. A tough, tough journey. But I love it (well…I am learning to love it).
God has me on yet another path which may return me to something that I left a long time ago and am not too eager to return to. I was not walking with Him when I experienced it before. But I am now. Now, unlike before, that place is a mission field. I’ve grown comfortable in my “bubble” and He is calling me to something greater. He has brought me full circle. I love it.
Usually, it’s me who is running myself in circles because of my own poor choices, which only serves to leave me disoriented, dizzy, and exhausted. It’s an entirely different experience when God is leading us around. There is hope, purpose, and the promise of a beautiful future.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Seeing is believing.
"Faith is to believe what we do not see, and the reward of this faith is to see what we believe." St. Augustine
Our current series at theVine is “Sensational God”. David is taking us through an awesome journey of experiencing God through each of our senses. So far, we’ve covered seeing, touching, and hearing. The whole idea of intentionally experiencing God through the very senses that He wove into us when He created us is actually pretty cool.
Rolling through my mind tonight as I prepare for bed is this thing called faith. How do I reconcile that with my human notion of “seeing is believing?” I can look at contrasting stories of those with faith of the unseen compared to those who did not believe God’s promise. Moses “endured, as seeing him who is invisible" (Hebrews 11:27). But the children of Israel did not. Their faithfulness and obedience to God only came when the circumstances were favorable. In fact, they were governed in large part by the things outside of God that appealed to their senses, in place of resting in the invisible and eternal God.
The same applies today. When we are preoccupied with the circumstances in our lives, instead of centering on the constancy of God and in Who God is, we live intermittent Christian lives, at best. Stop…Go…Stop….Go. God wants us more and more to see Him in everything…to call nothing “small” or “insignificant” if it bears to us His message.
The children of Israel did not believe until after they saw--when they saw Him work, then they believed. They still doubted God when they came to the Red Sea, but only when God opened the way and led them across and they saw Pharaoh drowned did they believe. They led an up and down life because of this kind of faith, and we do the same thing sometimes, don’t we? This is not the kind of faith God wants us to have.
The world says "seeing is believing," but God wants us to believe in order to see.
So what about my seasonal blindness in my faith journey? Because let’s just be honest here…there are times when all I can see is the darkness. Sometimes, my cup doesn’t runneth over…sometimes, it’s just empty. How do I wait for hope?
For we through the Spirit by faith wait for the hope of righteousness" (Gal. 5:5).
How do I wait for hope when not even a glimmer of it shines, yet still refuse to grow weary and refuse to doubt God’s unyielding faithfulness to me?
How do I experience the pain of a gaping, vacant hole in my heart, yet still resolve not to allow any presence inferior to God to occupy it?
How did Job do it? How did Abraham do it on the road to Moriah? How did Moses do it in the desert? How did Jesus do it in the Garden?
When I’m waiting for hope amid darkness, how do I, Melissa, believe “as seeing Him who is invisible?”
There really is only one way. To refuse to let go of my empty cup and remain convinced that God’s eyes see eternally further than my own. To remain steadfast in my belief that in His perfect timing and in the completeness of His love for me, He will unhide that which is hidden to my eyes. I will wait with confidence to see what I believe.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall.
If you know my story, then you know that my early years in the church were like many of yours may have been. I was taught sound doctrine based firmly in Truth, and for that, I am so grateful. But I also picked up some other things…some things that I wish I hadn’t.
I am not computer savvy enough to draw a circle below. But in your mind’s eye, picture a circle. In the center, write “Truth”. The diameter of the circle, though, should be labeled “religion” or even more accurately, “legalism”. I was taught Truth through the lenses of legalism.
Hold that thought for a second.
I have given much thought lately to the idea of spiritual discipline. Not long ago, I found myself the nastiest form of spiritual warfare I’ve ever experienced. So I’ve been checking myself … taking a self-inventory, if you will.
How do I relate to God?
Am I placing Him above all else?
Am I seeking Him?
Is there an area of unrepented sin in my life?
Am I consistent in my spiritual disciplines?
Most of us know what the components of spiritual discipline are. To name a few…fasting, prayer, quiet time with God daily, and so on. You know the drill.
My humbling exercise soon revealed that I have a serious problem with self-image. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m not talking about the outer image that I see when I look in the mirror. I already knew I had issues there. But like the outer shell of the circle I asked you to draw in your head, how I see my outer shell is merely a refraction of the lens upon how I see myself in the shadow of God.
There is an inherent “default” where my mind goes when I read about God and His instructions and commands to us. My faith, from the time I comprehended it, was grounded in an idea of performance and both subtly and blatantly, I was taught that my holiness was dependent on my performance and what I had achieved. Most often, those words were not spoken to me in a Sunday School class or sermon but instead were spoken – loudly -- through the actions and responses of the church in the face of someone’s spiritual fall. Those who did not perform well were not welcome. As a young kid, it framed my view of God. That stuff sticks and is really hard to wipe off.
OK, here’s where those two concepts come together. I understand, and have for some time, that discipline is a means of seeking God and receiving Him. I understand and firmly believe in the importance of “doing the things” necessary to keep me grounded in my faith. They are necessary. Period. Not because they area list of rules to follow but because they drive me closer to my Abba Father. As a matter of fact, I have often said to others that I do not look upon the list of spiritual disciplines as merely a set of rules to be graded against. I say that a lot.
But do I really believe that? We live what we believe. Do I really live that?
Nuh-uh.
When I meet someone who is more spiritually mature than me (i.e., more “holy”), I don’t see their holiness first. I see my unholiness. It is my focal point when placed in the shadow of holiness. When I read, think on, and meditate upon the attributes of God, I don’t see his worthiness first. I see my own unworthiness. My unworthiness is my focal point, not God’s worthiness. I am centered on my “uns”…which means my focus is on myself.
While the awareness of my unholiness and unworthiness is the very thing that humbles me before God (a healthy thing, by the way), shouldn’t my focus be on HIS holiness and HIS worthiness? If I am focused on my “uns” then the enemy has already stolen my thoughts by directing them toward the lie I am unworthy of God’s love, grace, and redemption. And guess what that probably means? That when I look upon others, I probably do/see the same thing. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
God, you see the image of your holiness and worthiness in me. You do not see my unholiness or unworthiness first. You call me worthy. You call me redeemed. You call me into your holiness. May I see myself and others the way that you do, through your eyes, and through your promise.
I am not computer savvy enough to draw a circle below. But in your mind’s eye, picture a circle. In the center, write “Truth”. The diameter of the circle, though, should be labeled “religion” or even more accurately, “legalism”. I was taught Truth through the lenses of legalism.
Hold that thought for a second.
I have given much thought lately to the idea of spiritual discipline. Not long ago, I found myself the nastiest form of spiritual warfare I’ve ever experienced. So I’ve been checking myself … taking a self-inventory, if you will.
How do I relate to God?
Am I placing Him above all else?
Am I seeking Him?
Is there an area of unrepented sin in my life?
Am I consistent in my spiritual disciplines?
Most of us know what the components of spiritual discipline are. To name a few…fasting, prayer, quiet time with God daily, and so on. You know the drill.
My humbling exercise soon revealed that I have a serious problem with self-image. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m not talking about the outer image that I see when I look in the mirror. I already knew I had issues there. But like the outer shell of the circle I asked you to draw in your head, how I see my outer shell is merely a refraction of the lens upon how I see myself in the shadow of God.
There is an inherent “default” where my mind goes when I read about God and His instructions and commands to us. My faith, from the time I comprehended it, was grounded in an idea of performance and both subtly and blatantly, I was taught that my holiness was dependent on my performance and what I had achieved. Most often, those words were not spoken to me in a Sunday School class or sermon but instead were spoken – loudly -- through the actions and responses of the church in the face of someone’s spiritual fall. Those who did not perform well were not welcome. As a young kid, it framed my view of God. That stuff sticks and is really hard to wipe off.
OK, here’s where those two concepts come together. I understand, and have for some time, that discipline is a means of seeking God and receiving Him. I understand and firmly believe in the importance of “doing the things” necessary to keep me grounded in my faith. They are necessary. Period. Not because they area list of rules to follow but because they drive me closer to my Abba Father. As a matter of fact, I have often said to others that I do not look upon the list of spiritual disciplines as merely a set of rules to be graded against. I say that a lot.
But do I really believe that? We live what we believe. Do I really live that?
Nuh-uh.
When I meet someone who is more spiritually mature than me (i.e., more “holy”), I don’t see their holiness first. I see my unholiness. It is my focal point when placed in the shadow of holiness. When I read, think on, and meditate upon the attributes of God, I don’t see his worthiness first. I see my own unworthiness. My unworthiness is my focal point, not God’s worthiness. I am centered on my “uns”…which means my focus is on myself.
While the awareness of my unholiness and unworthiness is the very thing that humbles me before God (a healthy thing, by the way), shouldn’t my focus be on HIS holiness and HIS worthiness? If I am focused on my “uns” then the enemy has already stolen my thoughts by directing them toward the lie I am unworthy of God’s love, grace, and redemption. And guess what that probably means? That when I look upon others, I probably do/see the same thing. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
God, you see the image of your holiness and worthiness in me. You do not see my unholiness or unworthiness first. You call me worthy. You call me redeemed. You call me into your holiness. May I see myself and others the way that you do, through your eyes, and through your promise.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Psalm 51.
Create in me a pure heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me from your presence
or take your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation
and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me. (v. 10-12, NIV)
This verse, this “old favorite”, has become very special to me recently. I had gone through a bit of a dry spiritual season, and it was this verse that leapt into my heart’s memory and rekindled a flame that…I’m ashamed to admit… had dulled down to barely a flicker.
Somewhere along the way, while transitioning into this amazingly wonderful new chapter in my life, I had lost my focus. My gaze was fixed upon the details of my new journey instead of on the One who authored it.
I have meditated on this verse for the past week. It draws me in over and over again.
Sometimes, it evokes the well-known song derived from its words...most of you are probably singing it in your little heads right now!
I have always read this verse as a lament, a cry for forgiveness and redemption. Partly because my seminary class made me do it. I can’t argue. It is that, indeed.
But isn’t it even more than that? It is a promise. It is hope. David was at his end. His sin and worldly pursuits had left him dry. He had lost focus.
Wait a minute…so had I.
I don’t know what the theologians out there would say, but here’s what I’ve got.
David cried out for God to “renew” a steadfast spirit within him.
Renew. God had done it before, so He would do it again.
He then cried out for God to “restore” the joy of salvation.
Restore. God had done it before, so He would do it again.
Do you see it? Not only does He renew and restore us, but He transforms us. And the transformation that takes place draws us even closer to Him than we were before. Our hearts change and we forever pursue him differently…more deeply from that point forward.
I can cry out, with a repentant heart, for God to renew and restore me. He’s done it before. Too many times to count. And then … booyah … all done. The only thing left for me to do is receive it!
Now that’s hope.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
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