Why We Live

Identity determines purpose.

In other words, who you are determines what you will do.

*  *  *  *  *

I have a question for you. A question still ringing in my ears from a secret spot on a sunny hillside at Sweetwater...

Can you tell me, in 10 words or less, why you're alive?
I mean, are you living today for a reason, or are you just breathing, working, studying...?

Let me tell you a little secret:
Identity determines purpose.
Satisfaction is the fulfillment of that purpose.

I'm blessed to be surrounded by some deep, beautiful people...
You know what we've been learning of late?

Just living isn't enough.

Let me gently remind you who you are.

You're the King's son. The King's daughter...
You're the broken little lamb that the Shepherd keeps charging into the briers to rescue.
(That's His blood on the thorns, not yours.)
You're the pinnacle of God's creativity.
Yes, you.

And you were created to identify with God. And for God to identify with.
And you've been broken, and bruised, and horribly disobedient.
But you've been redeemed.

That's who you are.

So now: Your purpose... Your motto. 10 words or less?
Choose them carefully. Because in the end, they'll be the reason why you breathe, work, study... Live.

Can I tell you why I live? Why I love, preach, blog, breathe?
Why I want to finish Nurse Practitioner and spend 6 months of 12 in a dark land?

"To Make Men Free."

The Anointed

Anointed.

I love that word.
David says they're the strong ones, and the free... (Ps. 28:7, 8)
The kings and queens, and priests... Royal. Privileged.

I personally can't get over the fact that they've been touched, prayed over, blessed by God Himself.

The rabbit trail I took through Strong's landed me in a familiar place, quite possibly the single most memorized chapter in scripture.

But familiar words took on unfamiliar meaning as I saw in them the God that is everything, increasingly (the everything that has no end) to me.

I know the words in english. But if Strong's is correct, (my soul believes it is) then those words are deeper than our contemporary use of them, by far.

I read them, speak them, love them. Eyes flit back and forth between the open page, and the Strong's app. And my heart sings something like this--

The LORD is my Shepherd;

And He? He is absolutely everything I need.

His home is my home. 

He leads me (literally: "to run with a sparkle") towards peaceful waters.

He returns my soul to joy...

He walks right with me in the path of righteousness, 

because that's the kind of Person He is. 

And even when I walk through this deep abyss--

This deep gorge where death lives and reigns,

I fear nothing. Absolutely nothing.

 Because God is here too. And He never leaves.

Because of Him, because of His comfort and support,

I thrive even in the presence of my enemies.

He anoints my head with oil,

while my joy overflows...

Anoints...
But not for a throne. Not in this verse.
This one is a relatively rare word, used 12 times, and only translated this way once.
Go look it up.
The reference is to ashes... Ashes, and fat. And "acceptance"...

He prepares me for sacrifice,

And all the while, my joy overflows.

Surely... Surely, this is the best life. 

Waiting for Me

Allow me to pull you into my throbbing heart for a second, won't you please??
Then don't leave. We need to stick together; work together.

Photo, Joshua. Post processing, me.

Suddenly at the edge of the clearing my feet shuffle to a stop, eyes find the ground. A strange lump grows in my throat.
I'm struck with the sense that in this moment, God is here. And this, is holy ground.
I step, but oh so carefully, eyes still down. And just to the edge of Ascension Rock.
When I lift them, all burning and moist, all is quiet. All but my throbbing heart, crying out. Soft, I speak to the God so close, I can feel Him.

"My God, what have we done?


Why are we still here?"


My question trails into the breeze. But only for one moment.

Then, His voice. Silent as it is, I have never heard one kinder.

"Why,... I was just waiting for you."

 

Another Great Awakening

A half-dozen Nebbletts merge into the foot traffic while checking apps for the departure gate. 

Charlie twenty-two.

We've got three hours. There's no hurry. 

Soft, the hum of smooth wheels on polished floors fills my ears. 

These sights and sounds are almost familiar enough to be home, but still there's a spark. I recognize wonder in it all... 

I watch faces. Note destinations. 

Count three 747s in a row, all in preflight at the terminal's heart. 

Manilla, Narita, Seoul, 

London, Amsterdam...

From Detroit?

Suddenly, I'm struck.

The world is so small.

So small...

I finally settle into a sun-bathed seat at C22 after extracting a vibrating iPhone from my pocket.

And I'm reminded just how large is the family of faith we belong to...

Big family, small world.

That email was typed in Europe. As were the 6 before it. And 40 others like it I've received today. They're proof that something is happening on the other side of the Atlantic, and around the globe, something it's our privilege, our duty, to be a part of...

I call it another great awakening.

And it's fueled by prayers, and tears, and sweat, and blood...

The question is, is it fueled by me?

In a few months time, I'll be among the number flying to Austria for GYC in Europe. I hope some of you will too... 

But do you know what I hope even more?

I hope somehow we'll all come to understand how small the world is. 

How much we need to pray for one another.

And I hope you'll fuel the awakening in Europe especially, with your prayers, with your friends.

In your bible study group. Or youth group. Or on Skype. Whatever. 

Let's fuel the fire, and change the world. 

What Really Counts

Around the world, and back again...

Part of my heart is still in Southeast Asia. 

What remains of me has been completely transformed. 

I'm an American. Make no mistake. 

But I don't see the world like the typical American. Not any more...

I cross the threshold back into my office/studio/bedroom at 0300, clap twice. Soft lights around the perimeter of the ceiling surge, illuminate the place. I stop and stare.

Is this my world?

Yes. 

No...

Morning light comes. (3 hours later.)

I press the silver button that will bring my MacPro to life. It doesn't. 

I hear the sounds of a failing hard drive.

Thank you Jesus!

No, I'm serious. That's exactly what I said. 

Do you know that stress is a choice?

Do you know that life is about much more than emails, work, school, stuff?

Or shall I say, much less?

Ask my Cambodian friends.

I work in the garden instead of the office. Then I leave home again, after 48 hours. In my flip flops. My dead computer stays. I thank Jesus for [another] Seagate failure all the way to Oklahoma... 

Because to eat, to sleep, to pray...

To serve,

this is life. 

And my computer, and my email, and my to-do list... These other things that dominate when someone asks me what I'm going to do today? 

Those are actually accessories.

On this trip, the accessories stayed home. My iPhone went to Europe in Joshua's pocket. 

And I just loved people.

I've never felt so alive.

Oh Let Me Go

Let me go and spend my last drop of life and strength in some corner darkness calls home.

Let me sell ease and comfort in exchange for pain and toil, and sweat, and sacrifice.

Let me forsake the insanity of security for the audacity of a miracle-studded existence.

Let me weep. And let my tears water your dreams... 

Let me.

Journal 3: These Strange Fetters

March 18, 18:52

...So like yours and mine, but not.

Don't I owe them something? These beautiful people with dark eyes, that look like they could be my cousins? These lives lived out in thatched huts, or wooden shacks on stilts 10 feet up?

These who live with spirit charms over their doors to keep the devils from wreaking havoc on their lives... (Only deep down he really doesn't care about woven straw, just wants them to live with fear as the default?)

These who planted their fields this year, only to have rain wash away their hopes. These starving for more than rice...
Starving for love?

Don't I owe them something?
Don't I?

I who can pray real prayers to the real Power in the shadow of the tree where the second-most-powerful evil spirit in the province lives...
I who understand, by grace, the glory of trust.

I do owe.
I do.

the (in)famous tree (where God is still stronger)

church

friends beloved

the guy with the 5D

Journal 2

3/17/12 0520
But of course I want to be a world-changer. Of course I'm ready to see selfish hearts warmed and broken by sympathy and love...

But if I'm ever to take part in such a revolution, my own life must be controlled by sympathy and love - exclusively.

My, but how selfish is the human heart! How eager to move from the difficult to the easy... How bravely we talk, how sheepishly we work.

Mist springs up from the ground and it's morning again... And I think of beautiful people stirring in their huts. And I think of hunger, and suffering, and hard work. And I think of the "house" that was pointed out to me yesterday... where children are exploited.

And I realize, only the blind can be selfish.
But I am still far too selfish!

So, I must be blind.

We must be blind.
Oh God, open our eyes.

Cambodia

The blog still sits silent. And what day is this?

Blame it half on sketchy internet, (usually down when I'm ready to roll) and half on photos and stories coming so fast I can scarce get my pictures dumped before the next thing calls. 

I'm resorting to something new. I'll just journal here real time, and post in as-I-can time. I conceive that will be better than nothing in the end...

March 15

Sometime ask me about the meal extracted directly from the jungle, prepared by hands that loved...

And dirty feet. And taming jungle with Acts 2 in my ears... And a wild (5 hour) taxi ride across the country. Ask me sometime...

March 16, 14:39

Mango and Sticky Rice in the works. (yes!!)

Have a deeper sense of the glory of being climbed as Hs own...

Got it while sitting barefoot and cross legged, listening while the inhabitants of the third Pnong hut in a row insist to Cara that I must be one of them. Or at very least, my grandfather must be Pnong...

Well, no. But I couldn't love them more if I were.