I realized tonight as I pulled into the familiar Shiloh parking lot, one hour late to youth group due to a family Christmas party, that it would be my last Reckless until September 2011. A sad realization, but surprisingly I wanted no recognition, no farewell speech - no attention at all really. Apparently God had work to do in me. Within minutes of entering, we went to worship, and after a flurry of unmistakable signs from God I realized I was hearing from Him for the first time in a long time, and (as usual) I didn't like what He was saying because it went against every fiber of my natural intentions. Tonight, He brought to my attention - as if I didn't already know - that I have not been in a good place with Him lately. More on that in a minute. He told me that even though my intentions had been to remain on Reckless staff during my trip to Germany simply as an extended sabbatical, this is not His plan. Within an instant I knew that I needed to step down for the time being until I am ready to fulfill the responsibilities again with all of my heart. In that moment, I stepped down from staff. Logistically, does it make a difference? No. I'm leaving. No one, not even my closest friends on staff, will be able to tell the difference between the situation in a practical sense. But it is a world of difference in my attitude, spiritual focus, and the placement of my heart. Leaving staff in my own mind was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Afraid that I would waver in my obedience, I quickly told Ashley to make things "official." Sure enough, I wept. It wasn't a lot of tears, but inside I was crying like a baby. It may seem like a minor change of wording as to my position, but it is absolutely necessary for my spiritual growth at this time. So I am no longer able to refer to myself as "youth staff." And if you catch me doing so out of habit, stop me.
On to my current state before I wrap this entry up (I promised shorter ones!). I have not been doing well with God for some time now. I have been struggling and the feelings I expressed in my first entry here have become more intense than ever. Consequently, I have run from it all. Luckily, progress is still being made even in the darkest night. Our family cruise showed me that there is a solid foundation of light and salt in me that I never fully realized - without even trying I was able to shine light into some very dark lives on the ship. It was a beautiful thing, and I was so shocked that God was using me that I am still recovering. Also, meetings with Mike (my mentor) have been going well and I am slowly but surely finding out the roots of some of my deepest issues. Externally, I may be in poor shape, but things are aligning internally to pave the road for a bright and pure future. I am so glad for this, but I am also trying to avoid using it as an excuse to become a fatalist and simply "wait on God's plan" without trying to change things or avoid sin.
Time to wrap up. Not sure what else to say, though. I've got a lot of work to do.
And...
I feel like everything I cherish has been ripped away to be replaced with new experiences for the next 8 months or so. In the time being, there is absolutely nothing inside of me so I feel very empty.
But aside from the obvious fact that I am not empty because I have the only One who matters inside my heart, all of that is just ridiculous. Because it wasn't ripped away, God would never do such a thing. I gave it away, and that makes all the difference. Now for a smile, even if it's an ironic one :)
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Prolegomena
"A preliminary discussion, especially a formal essay introducing a work of considerable length or complexity."
Although I cannot pretend that my writings here will be formal, lengthy, or complex, the word "prolegomena" is essentially the Greek equivalent of the word "prologue," and I cannot think of a better title for this post. Considering that every book on Systematic Theology written in the past 600+ years opens with a Prolegomena, and the fact that this blog will be unashamedly spiritual in origin, nature, and conclusion led me to decide upon the word. But enough about the title...
Most of you reading this are already aware that I am leaving on January 8, 2011 to study German for 3 months in Vienna, Austria at the International Culture Institute, and then religion and education for 4 months at the world's oldest Protestant University (Phillipps-Marburg, founded in 1527). I do not have time to go into the story of how this lifelong dream of mine came true, but let me simply say it was (and continues to be) miraculous. The only point I wish to stress, and in fact the reason for writing this post, is that I am already being humbled and worked on by God through this experience in more ways than I could have ever imagined. And that begins the topic for tonight:
As the countdown to D-Day turns from a matter of months to weeks, I realize more and more how much I am terrified to leave. The thought of leaving my home in New Hampshire, my family, twin baby sisters, friends, youth group, church, and the dearly loved people who I am privileged to minister to and with on a regular basis is enough to make my bottom lip quiver like 22 month old Grace after we took her Halloween candy away yesterday. It is not a natural fear of the unknown. It is not uncertainty about my calling from God to go. It is not even stress about finances, academics, or culture shock. All of these things excite me to no end (except maybe the finances). So how can I explain the fact that now that one of my lifelong dreams has been realized at an age far younger than I expected, I am suddenly quivering in my boots? It is the knowing. I know that God has called me - and for perhaps the first time in my life, He has seen fit to give me a (small) knowledge of why I am going.
So why? Many have asked me why I am doing this. I have told them about all the benefits and excitements of the program, but then watched as they did not believe me when I told them that none of these were why I want to do this. After much prayer and Godly counsel, I have realized that God is calling me to Germany so that I may enter a Spiritual Desert. This is not the kind of Desert where things are dry, dull, and uneventful and faith is plagued with doubt at every corner. No; this is the Desert of Preparation. This is the Desert where I am separated from the things I have grown dependent upon unto Him and only Him. This is the same Desert (perhaps not physically, but spiritually) that Moses was a humble shepherd in for 40 years until a burning bush appeared and turned his world upside down. The very same that John the Baptist lived in, Jesus was tempted in, Elijah fled to, and Paul in the midst of the bustling city of Damascus sat blind in.
This Desert, then, is one of dying to self and abandoning to Christ. It is a necessary time of breaking. Each of the men above (and there are many more), are examples of God's fundamental principle of using this Desert to prepare His people for service. Each one of those desert experiences preceded a major shift in the ministry of the men involved, and often was accompanied by an activation or realization of their unique calling and gifting. This is why I am afraid. It is a holy fear of what God has called me to. It is the fear of the Lord, and though it may be righteous and not sinful, it is a real fear nonetheless. Some may ask if I am daring to compare myself to the likes of the great men listed above, or even misunderstand and think that I am trying to put myself on a level with Christ Himself! It is just the opposite. If Christ needed this desert, then so do I.
I now know that Germany will make or break me. I have faith that it will make me who He wants me to be, but He often uses demolition as a part of that process. Am I afraid to fail? No. I cannot fail the one who knows everything. But I am also faced with the knowledge that He has told me this will be one of the most difficult, trying, and impacting times of my life. I will come back a changed man with a better understanding of who I am in Christ and who He has called me to be. I will never be the same. Only He can give me the courage and strength to do this. If it were up to me, I would have bailed on the idea a long time ago.
So why "Finding Water in the Desert"? Because in spite of my fears, hesitations, and faults, ultimately the message of this blog is not dismay or heartache. It is hope. In God I put my trust, and just as He provided water in the Desert outside of Egypt from a rock, so He will provide water for my soul from Christ, the Rock on which I stand. And eventually it will flow not only to me, but through me more powerfully than ever before, as He promised so long ago:
"Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’"
John 7:38
Although I cannot pretend that my writings here will be formal, lengthy, or complex, the word "prolegomena" is essentially the Greek equivalent of the word "prologue," and I cannot think of a better title for this post. Considering that every book on Systematic Theology written in the past 600+ years opens with a Prolegomena, and the fact that this blog will be unashamedly spiritual in origin, nature, and conclusion led me to decide upon the word. But enough about the title...
Most of you reading this are already aware that I am leaving on January 8, 2011 to study German for 3 months in Vienna, Austria at the International Culture Institute, and then religion and education for 4 months at the world's oldest Protestant University (Phillipps-Marburg, founded in 1527). I do not have time to go into the story of how this lifelong dream of mine came true, but let me simply say it was (and continues to be) miraculous. The only point I wish to stress, and in fact the reason for writing this post, is that I am already being humbled and worked on by God through this experience in more ways than I could have ever imagined. And that begins the topic for tonight:
As the countdown to D-Day turns from a matter of months to weeks, I realize more and more how much I am terrified to leave. The thought of leaving my home in New Hampshire, my family, twin baby sisters, friends, youth group, church, and the dearly loved people who I am privileged to minister to and with on a regular basis is enough to make my bottom lip quiver like 22 month old Grace after we took her Halloween candy away yesterday. It is not a natural fear of the unknown. It is not uncertainty about my calling from God to go. It is not even stress about finances, academics, or culture shock. All of these things excite me to no end (except maybe the finances). So how can I explain the fact that now that one of my lifelong dreams has been realized at an age far younger than I expected, I am suddenly quivering in my boots? It is the knowing. I know that God has called me - and for perhaps the first time in my life, He has seen fit to give me a (small) knowledge of why I am going.
So why? Many have asked me why I am doing this. I have told them about all the benefits and excitements of the program, but then watched as they did not believe me when I told them that none of these were why I want to do this. After much prayer and Godly counsel, I have realized that God is calling me to Germany so that I may enter a Spiritual Desert. This is not the kind of Desert where things are dry, dull, and uneventful and faith is plagued with doubt at every corner. No; this is the Desert of Preparation. This is the Desert where I am separated from the things I have grown dependent upon unto Him and only Him. This is the same Desert (perhaps not physically, but spiritually) that Moses was a humble shepherd in for 40 years until a burning bush appeared and turned his world upside down. The very same that John the Baptist lived in, Jesus was tempted in, Elijah fled to, and Paul in the midst of the bustling city of Damascus sat blind in.
This Desert, then, is one of dying to self and abandoning to Christ. It is a necessary time of breaking. Each of the men above (and there are many more), are examples of God's fundamental principle of using this Desert to prepare His people for service. Each one of those desert experiences preceded a major shift in the ministry of the men involved, and often was accompanied by an activation or realization of their unique calling and gifting. This is why I am afraid. It is a holy fear of what God has called me to. It is the fear of the Lord, and though it may be righteous and not sinful, it is a real fear nonetheless. Some may ask if I am daring to compare myself to the likes of the great men listed above, or even misunderstand and think that I am trying to put myself on a level with Christ Himself! It is just the opposite. If Christ needed this desert, then so do I.
I now know that Germany will make or break me. I have faith that it will make me who He wants me to be, but He often uses demolition as a part of that process. Am I afraid to fail? No. I cannot fail the one who knows everything. But I am also faced with the knowledge that He has told me this will be one of the most difficult, trying, and impacting times of my life. I will come back a changed man with a better understanding of who I am in Christ and who He has called me to be. I will never be the same. Only He can give me the courage and strength to do this. If it were up to me, I would have bailed on the idea a long time ago.
So why "Finding Water in the Desert"? Because in spite of my fears, hesitations, and faults, ultimately the message of this blog is not dismay or heartache. It is hope. In God I put my trust, and just as He provided water in the Desert outside of Egypt from a rock, so He will provide water for my soul from Christ, the Rock on which I stand. And eventually it will flow not only to me, but through me more powerfully than ever before, as He promised so long ago:
"Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’"
John 7:38
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