5 Years Later

If you haven't noticed yet, it's fall. Fall is a beautiful season, and the essence of the season is change. Our nation's leaders change. Students transition from vacation back to their busy, studying lives. People exchange their summer sandals for scarves and gloves. But the most noticeable change is in nature. Everyone raves about the brilliant colors of the leaves. The air is cool and crisp. Occasional rain makes everything smell clean.

Every year around this time, I am reminded of the changes that have taken place in my life. In particular, I remember the single most significant change- the one that took place five years ago today. Like the leaves on the trees, I may have appeared to be full of life and color. But in reality, I was dying. In fact, I was already dead. I trust that if you know me at all, then you know what change I am referring to. Five years ago I became a new creation, raised from spiritual deadness to vibrant new life in Christ Jesus.

Last year, I wrote a note on Facebook that told my story of redemption. The positive feedback I received regarding that post inspired me to start this blog. I would love to replicate the effects of that first note in this blog entry, but as a writer, I fear redundancy. So instead, let me take you on a little journey through my five years of being a Christ-follower. Hopefully you will praise God, as I do, when you hear of how God is continually making me new, even five years later.

I was just 15 years old when I first met Jesus. He certainly found me in a sorry condition, as I was looking for love and affirmation in all the wrong places. Fortunately, the Spirit of God living in me was really hacking away at the major sins in my life. So much so, in fact, that my family disbelieved it at first. "Your just going through a phase," they told me. After months and eventually years of steadiness in my character, I hope that they have found that it wasn't just a phase- that it was actually the miraculous grace of God in my life. I hope that they know the reason I am a better daughter and sister is only because of Jesus.

Jesus led me through some dark places that first year. Having to walk away from friendships and old habits was hard. At times I feared I was losing myself. But now I see that this was only the putting off the old so that I could put on the new. I also faced the criticism of some extended family members. It was all very confusing that some people could be so upset by a change in my life that I considered the best thing to ever happen to me!

It was also during this first year that God blessed me with a beautiful friend and sister in Christ. I have never had a more faithful friend, and I am blessed that we are still friends today. It has been an honor to grow up in the faith with her, and I only hope she knows how much her friendship and prayers mean to me.

My most vivid memories come from that first year, but the four that followed were certainly not without their share of blessings. It was during those years that I was baptized, went on my first missions trips, and shared my testimony with my entire church family (and a few strangers). There were times of spiritual growth and times of dry faith. Jesus brought me through events that were painful and even heart-breaking.

As a sophomore in high school, I suffered the cruel words of mean girls and gossipers. In my junior year, I entered a romantic relationship that I would ultimately have the difficult task of ending. By far the most difficult season of these years were the months surrounding the church split that presented me with my first crisis of the faith. It is difficult for me to share the extent to which these things affected me. What I can tell you is this: I've endured many tearful nights of crying out to my heavenly Father.

With all that said, I don't want to downplay the wonderful experiences and things I was learning those years. I learned about true kingdom service on mission trips. I learned how to defend my beliefs in youth group. I learned about the injustice of abortion. I learned about debate, politics and world history. I performed on stage, made sandwiches for pay, shared my faith, gave speeches, and so many other things. Sometimes I wonder how I fit it all in!

Which brings me to this past year. I've grown so much my first year in college. Pursuing my education at MBI, making new friends, and doing Christian ministry in the great city of Chicago have brought me so much joy! I've wrestled through tough theological issues (and continue to do so). I've said tearful goodbyes to wonderful roommates. I've struggled to be content in my singleness. I've worked through a hard and lonely summer. I've become a pro-life activist. And most significantly, I've come to really know what it means to love the person of Jesus. In short, I've learned and lived more than I thought was possible.

And here I am today. Five years later. A 20 year old woman who has been changed by Jesus, being made more like him every year. Looking back, I am grateful for how God has grown and matured me. Looking forward, I am joyful that I have nowhere else to go but further up and further in for love of my King!

A Test I Should Have Studied For

I've only been back at school for one week, and I already have enough reading assignments to fill an encyclopedia. I actually really love school. I like attending lectures, doing projects, and I even enjoy writing papers :) However, one part of school I do not enjoy is tests and studying for them. Studying for tests is time consuming and stressful. Even if I've studied for a few hours, I still have doubts as to whether I'm prepared enough. The actual act of taking a test, on the other hand, can be either rewarding or terrifying. I love taking tests when I'm confident in my answers. It is a great feeling to finish a test and be able to say that there wasn't a single question that caught me off guard. On the flip side, taking a test where the questions could almost be a different language fills me with terrible feelings. I'm ashamed that I didn't invest enough time into my studies, and I'm afraid of the consequences that this test score will bring to my overall grade.

This morning I was alarmed to find that I had been handed a test that I had not properly studied for.

If you've read my most recent entry, you know that I recently had back surgery. I am very grateful to the Lord and pleased to report that my recovery has gone fairly smoothly. The recovery was not without pain, and there were certainly moments of discouragement. But with every morning, I find that I am more healed than the day before! This morning, however, as I was checking my progress, I found the test I mentioned above in the form of another little bump. Fortunately, it was not in the same place as the last one, but there was a bump nonetheless.

My reaction to this discovery proves that I had not properly studied for this test. At first, I felt despair that I might have to go through the pain of surgery again. And then I did the most absurd thing a Christian could ever do. I got a little angry at God. Now you might be surprised to find that I am not one of those Christians who says its okay to be mad at God every once in awhile. Within my first month of being a Christian, I heard a message at a retreat that explained that anger at God is not justifiable. It's not that God can't handle our being angry at Him. We know that He can from the story of Job in the Old Testament.  Anger at God is not justifiable because we have no legitimate reason to be angry at Him.

If I had prepared for this test, this new physical trial, I would have responded differently. I would have acknowledged straightaway that I am not entitled to perfect health. In my sinful condition, what I am entitled to is the plague! It is only by God's grace in my life that I have been so free of illness and deformity. If God's Word had been more engrained in my heart, I would have remembered that I am commanded (and have reason) to rejoice always!

Jesus sacrificed everything for me. A King took the punishment I deserved. How outrageous of me to be angry at Him, even if only for a moment. Fortunately, Jesus is full of mercy, and He has extended it to me once again today. Along with my intentions of repentance, I pray for the wisdom to take this next test. I pray that my response to this trial will ultimately bring fame to my King. 

Facing Setbacks, Failures, and Fears

As my days back home for the summer are drawing to a close, I'm suddenly faced with situations that have forced me to consider who I really have faith in. Looking back on this summer, I see goals left unaccomplished. I have a dozen or so reasons I could rattle off to explain why I didn't see those goals through, but if I'm honest with myself, I know better. I didn't accomplish some of my goals for purely selfish reasons, and I didn't seek the Lord first with those goals. Do you know what that means for me? It means I failed. Do you know what failure does? It hurts my pride. I'm embarrassed when I think about all the good I could have done for the kingdom of God while home this summer but failed to do so for selfish reasons. But what is even more embarrassing is the fact that I acted as though I could accomplish those things without the help of the God I was trying to honor. I forgot the most basic of lessons a young Christian like me learns- that I can do nothing of my own strength. I need the strength and power of God to accomplish great things for His glory, but if I do not ask, I will not receive (John 16:24). Failures may be painful for my pride, but when that pain becomes humility before God, I find that it is true that His power is made perfect when I am weak.

Though I have experienced some failures this summer, I would not say all is lost. On the contrary, I learned that true service can be accomplished when I find strength in my King. Perhaps you read about my observations on the Justice Ride, but you didn't read about how that week was for me emotionally. Every morning before our group would go to the public squares to do outreach, I was wracked with fear. I'm not even exaggerating there. I honestly wanted to double over and retch one morning. But every morning, I would pray for the strength of God to overcome my fear. And every day my prayer was answered. I even experienced the joy promised in the verse I cited above. "Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive,and your joy will be complete" (John 16:24).

So I've actually learned a lot this summer about how to respond to setbacks, failures, and fears. But tonight, my heart is heavy with some of these same problems.

I am returning to school this fall with a mission: start a pro-life activism student group. Planning was going great for awhile, and I was excited about working hard on something I am really passionate about. But when I found that there would almost certainly be opposition to the proposed group, my faith faltered. "Oh. I guess this isn't going to happen then," I thought for a few moments. Fortunately, it was truly only a few moments before I realized the next step I needed to take: prayer. I poured out my heart before God about the situation and entrusted it to His care. And now I am more ready than before to honor and obey God through this "controversial" endeavor!

And now for the final and yet most prominent concern on my mind tonight. I am very afraid about the surgery I am having on my back tomorrow morning. I'm worried about complications in surgery. I'm worried about recovery. I'm worried about returning to school so soon after my surgery. I admit it! I'm really scared! However, I am choosing right now to give those fears over to the One who tells me "Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand" (Isaiah 41:10).

I trust that no matter what happens tomorrow, my God will strengthen and help me. After all, my King has never failed me yet.

The War with Victims Ignored

This week I traveled for five days through five major cities of the midwest with a group of young activists. The pro-life organization, Created Equal, coordinated this trip and called it a Justice Ride. Named after the Freedom Rides of the Civil Rights movement, our tour sought to expose the injustice of abortion to a country that prides itself in its rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Sadly, this very nation has denied an entire generation of its right to life. More than 50 million people have been killed, and yet very few have ever seen the victims. The Justice Riders set up signs in public squares displaying the graphic nature of abortion and sought to engage passersby in conversations about the topic. I learned so much through the Justice Ride, and more posts will likely come about what I've learned. But for the sake of space and the desire to be concise, I'll limit my discussion in this post to what I've learned about the different reactions people have at the sight of aborted children. 


Anger. Some people are filled with rage at the sight of the graphic nature of abortion. Some express their anger by attacking pro-lifers with hateful words. Some knock down signs. Others make offensive gestures. It is impossible to know for sure the reason for their anger, but it is possible to make a guess. 


My best guess is that they feel guilt. Whether these angry people have participated in an abortion or not, I believe that a certain natural feeling is triggered at the sight of extreme injustice. This natural feeling is guilt. Pictures of dismembered children would make anyone feel angry. If you saw a picture on the news of a dismembered toddler, you would probably become angry. You would say something like, "Who could do something so cruel to such an innocent child?!" It seems reasonable to conclude then that the reason why someone would get angry at pictures of aborted children is because they know the answer to that question. Who could do something so cruel to such an innocent unborn child? Our nation. The people of this country have allowed this barbaric practice to go on behind closed doors for almost forty years. We as a nation like to believe that we are for freedom and equality and justice, but when its inhabitants are confronted with pictures that seem to suggest the opposite, they are forced to recognize their guilt. 


You may wonder why I didn't label this section "guilt", but I did this for a reason. While I believe that guilt is the root the anger grows from, I am sure that the woman who screamed at me that I was a stupid girl was not aware that she was doing so out of guilt. Unfortunately, our generation has become skilled at suppressing feelings of guilt. It is much more pleasant to believe that you are a generally good person than to admit that you have serious flaws. It is easier to persuade yourself that you were right for hurting another person because of the circumstances rather than apologize for the pain you've caused. Similarly, the people of our nation have suppressed their guilt for almost forty years. We are guilty of the blood of innocent children, and we don't like it at all.


Sadness. This appropriate response is one that occurred less often than I would have hoped. However, when it did occur, I dove right in to start a conversation. It is easier to talk rationally with a person that still has even a fragment of his or her conscience in working order. Moral sensitivity is key to preserving the life of the preborn baby. If the sight of a dead child doesn't move you to sadness, think about what that says about the condition of your heart.


Apathy. This response is the worst of them all, and it was the most popular response of the day. Some consciences have been so dulled that the pictures didn't even move them to anger. Many people walked past our displays without even a glance. Far more worse off are those who mock the death of innocents. When I asked one young man what his thoughts were on the photos, he retorted with a grin, "I think they are hilarious." It is tempting to believe that such a person is too far gone in moral decline. After all, if one is able to laugh at the sight of a dead child, what else could that person be capable of? However, it is in moments like those that I am reminded that only my King can lift the dark veil that covers the eyes of such people. But if they are unwilling to be changed, the veil will only become heavier and darker with time. As a Christian woman, I was especially convicted this week to pray that the souls shrouded in darkness would come into the light.


It is quite possible that I have missed some of the other reactions, but I won't worry myself with that. The only thing I worry about is the person who reads this post and responds in apathy. There is no response more tragic. 


While I learned a great deal about how to speak with people who think differently than me and how to remain calm in moments of fear or intimidation, I learned most about the nature of the times we live in. And what I've discovered has only filled me with more zeal for the movement I have just become a part of. In a time when apathy and anger are the fuel for the war being waged on unborn children, I know that I must take my position in the ranks that defend the weak and the fatherless. I will not stop fighting until justice is restored in our nation. A King is leading this battle, and His servants must follow Him to attain the victory.

You can have all this world...

How many hymns, sermons, and Bible versus does it take to remind Andrea that this world will never satisfy her? Apparently a lot, because after recently hearing the hymn "Give Me Jesus" I find myself taken aback yet again. Accompanied by beautiful piano and violin, the hymn is three verses with a short refrain in between each one. Each verse describes specific times a person experiences in life, and the refrain always begs for the one thing that is needed most at each of those times. The lyrics of the song are simple but worth sharing.


"In the morning when I rise, give me Jesus." (verse 1)


"When I am alone, give me Jesus." (verse 2)


"When I come to die, give me Jesus." (verse 3)


"Give me Jesus! You can have all this world, but give me Jesus." (refrain)


Here is the link for the song, so please check it out if you haven't heard it yet!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rZ8k9m2hwo

Now when I first heard this song, I was moved by the beautiful scene the song describes: a man asking for Jesus at common yet often desperate times. Mornings, times of loneliness, and the hour of death are common to all people. Yet they are the times when men and women find themselves most vulnerable to feelings of despair. Have you ever woken up in the morning only to vehemently wish to go back to sleep because you don't think you have the strength to get through the day? I have. Have you ever been alone with your thoughts only to find that you are not the man or woman you had hoped you would be? I have. Do you ever fear death? I'll admit, sometimes I do.


I've just described my first reaction to the song. I have had three reactions total, and I'd like to share all three with you. So my first reaction was that I truly related to the song. The second was a less pleasant reaction: shame.


When was the last time I woke up and wanted more of Jesus? Thinking back to times of loneliness, the first person I call on is usually a friend, not Jesus. And when I fear death, I am obviously in a period of doubt (however brief) since my faith in Jesus should cast out all fear of death. Ugh. Just when I was beginning to like this song, I realized that the only time I can listen to it without feeling guilty is when I am the perfectly spiritual person that I know I will never be.


And then this morning, when I was reading from C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity, I learned (not for the first time I'm sure) that Christian love is unique. For the Christian, love is not merely having feelings of affection for a person, or for God for that matter. C.S. Lewis explains it this way:


"Nobody can always have devout feelings: and even if we could, feelings are not what God principally cares about. Christian Love, either towards God or towards man, is an affair of the will."


Woohoo! The song takes on new meaning for the third time. There was more nuance to the words, "Give me Jesus," than I had thought originally. The plea could be rephrased, "Give me Jesus, the only one who can comfort me in this moment." Comfort is a feeling, and Jesus does bring comfort to desperate souls. But wait! There's more. The very fact that the songwriter asks for the comfort of Jesus reveals that he is in need of it. Why ask for Jesus in times of loneliness if despair will never strike you? Why ask for Him in the morning if He is naturally the first thing you desire?


I don't have to feel ashamed because I can't muster up feelings of love for Jesus in the morning when I wake up. Feelings come and go, but loving God is a choice. It is an act of the will. That is why when I ask God for more Jesus, He will never deny my request.


Infinitely purer than my love for Jesus is His love for me. That is why I can declare with the hymn writer,


You can have all this world, but give me Jesus! 

Honestly, this is harder than I thought.

In my first entry I promised to be honest in these posts. And I'm about to give you an honest truth. I haven't been writing much lately because I'm in a bad mood. I'm not an artist in the typical sense, but I like to think of writing as a work of art. I prefer my "artwork" to be uplifting, and lately I haven't had much uplifting things to say. I don't know whether that is because the transition back home for the summer has been difficult or because I have not been casting my cares at the feet of Jesus (its probably a combination of the two), but I can't seem to shake this feeling of being weighed down. I'm going to vent for a bit and then probably hit the backspace button A LOT, but here is why I haven't been in the best mood lately.


I'm single, and I know it. I don't really need everyone and their mother reminding me. As if its not hard enough just wanting to be in a relationship. Yes, my standards are pretty dang high. I know that. I'm more than okay with that. But it would be nice if people would be more encouraging and less underhandedly reminding me that I'm not in a relationship.


I'm not being heard. What started out as gentle reasoning has turned into all-out shouting matches. Is it really my fault that I'm losing patience with each passing day? Are my threats really empty? Do I mean it when I say I won't come back? Are my tears selfish? Is there really no solution? I don't know whether to resolve or keep fighting. 


I feel lonely. Those words feel foreign even to write. I haven't often felt lonely in my life. And the reason why I feel lonely isn't even because there aren't people around who care about me. I feel lonely because all I can see is three more months of being home or at work in the morning and at work at night. Being at home isn't exactly restful and neither is work obviously. I knew that this summer was going to be one mainly for saving money to go back to school. But it is turing out to be harder than I thought. 


Not very uplifting right? I guess thats just the way it is sometimes. And as I write all this, I remember a meeting I had just before leaving school. A very godly woman reminded me to cast everything at the feet of my King this summer. And to be honest, I haven't done that at all. So here is the reality to remember when you read any of my entries: I don't ever really have it all together. Especially right now. I'm trying to carry a weight that I can't carry, and I know what I have to do. I know that Jesus will carry this burdened feeling for me. I haven't surrendered that yet, but I know better. My King will lift me back up. The only question is when.

A Better Country

For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to break free from the ordinary and be my own person. For years when I was a child, I wanted nothing more than to live in New York City one day. I imagined that life would be more thrilling there. Everything about the city seemed glamorous and idyllic. It seems almost odd now, but even back then I longed for independence. As I grew up, the dream changed but the principle behind the dream stayed the same. New York was no longer the only place I could see myself. I felt drawn to places like China, Romania, South America, even New Mexico! As you have probably deduced already, these places have virtually nothing in common. The one thing they do have in common is that they are utterly different than anything I've ever known. Why is it that I have always wanted to go places that are so unfamiliar to a small-town girl like me? I'd like to explore that question in this blog.


How do you explain the unquenchable desire of a little girl to go to unknown places where she can be free and independent? It is reasonable to say that she dreamed of a life better than the one she knew. Please don't misunderstand that statement. I was not and am not an escapist. My desire for going elsewhere was never motivated by the need to escape a harsh reality. Rather, I believe my desire was motivated by a sense of adventure. Surely there were more adventures to be had in NYC than in Celina, right? But now another question remains; where did this desire for adventure come from? Not everyone wants to live in unfamiliar territory. Most people would take stability over adventure if it were offered to them. I have often wondered why I am so different from the rest of my family in this way. That is not to say my family doesn't have dreams. They do, but mine have always been so much different from theirs. It seems legitimate to ask where these dreams came from. Most children get their dreams from their parents, but my parents would tell you in an instant that they didn't plant those outrageous dreams in my head. Rather, it is like the dreams were there from the beginning. They were woven into my very being from before I was even born.


When I was fifteen, I embarked on a new adventure that literally changed my life. I am currently on that very same adventure, and it has taken me places I never expected to go. This adventure has taken me to slums in Haiti, hospitals in Guatemala, the inner-city of Chicago, and many other places as well. And while the adventure has taken me to some amazing places, the destinations aren't really what the adventure is all about. Instead, this adventure is mostly about the journey, and the only destination I really care about is the final one. I'll now stop speaking so cryptically and explain this grand adventure I've been on for the last four years.


I am following in the footsteps of the only wise King. It is truly a grand adventure to take Jesus at His word and actually do what He asks. The path of following Jesus gets rocky at times, but that just adds to the adventure. No matter how scary the task or how impassible the road may seem, my King has always made a way for me. He has been faithful even when I have been faithless. He has proven His love for me again and again.


And all the while, my thirst for adventure has remained. The different stops I have made on my journey walking with Christ have all been quite thrilling, but the final stop on my ticket is a better country than any I have visited thus far. I am looking forward to something better than this earth. That is why I am willing to go anywhere the Lord takes me- even if it's dangerous. God created me from birth to go and do great things for Him. He knew about this grand adventure even before I did.


So if you ever think I'm crazy for wanting to go to unwelcoming places with an unwelcome message, then just remember that I'm not doing it for myself. If I were going into Christian Missions for the sake of my own comfort and happiness, I would probably return to my home whenever the going got rough. But because I am longing for a better country, I will not let hardship or fear or  discomfort keep me from spreading the fame of my King. Speaking about the saints of old, the author of Hebrews makes a point more eloquently than I:


"If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them" (Hebrews 11:15-17).

Take my Lips and Let them Be

Those who are familiar with the Christian hymn "Take my Life and Let it Be" might know the phrase that follows the title of this post. It comes from the third verse which reads:


Take my voice and let me sing,
Always, only for my King.
Take my lips and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.


Lately I've been considering the power of words. Words can heal or harm. They can fight or make peace. They can pour out love or hatred. And as I considered these things, I reflected on the way I have used words in the past and how I use them presently. I'm ashamed to admit that I have often intentionally used words to hurt people. Whenever I was angry or upset at someone, I always seemed to know the words that would cut the deepest. I realize now that it is not too late to ask for forgiveness, so that will happen in the very near future. Presently, I have found that social media venues like Facebook, blogging, etc. present daily opportunities to use words for good or for evil. For example, you can post complaints, controversial opinions, quotes, song lyrics, photos, videos, slams at individuals who remain unnamed, and I'm sure many other things. As I considered this, I realized that what I say on these social media venues is of extreme importance. I am an ambassador of Christ. My King has called me and every other person who calls upon His name to be His representatives to the world (2 Cor. 5:20).Therefore, when I post or blog, I should write praises instead of complaints. I should build up instead of tear down. I should speak truth and not lies.


In other words, my lips should be filled with messages from God. That is not to say that I should incessantly quote Bible verses or only talk about spiritual things. Rather, I believe that to have lips filled with messages from God means to always speak words that honor God. An ambassador would never intentionally say anything to make his country look bad. In the same way, I don't want anything I say to give a poor reflection of the God I serve. In light of all this, I'm afraid I must confess that I have failed miserably in this area.


Sometimes it is really difficult for me to discern when it is appropriate to say something and when it is better to keep my mouth closed. This happens most often in everyday conversation. However, recently I have noticed that the real temptation occurs over social media venues. I knew from the get-go that posting something very controversial is a pretty cowardly way to present one's case. I mean think about it. I can post something that I know lots of people are going to disagree with, but its okay because I am hiding behind a computer screen! If people disagree with me, they will say something. But I may never have to see them, so it doesn't matter! Now I'm not saying people shouldn't have strong opinions. They should! There are far more effective ways to advocate a point, but they demand courage. Now as I'm writing this, I'm remembering that there are some instances when posting something controversial can be done in a good way. However, the only way this can be a good thing is if the statement being made is presented out of love and does not make its point through degrading the people who hold a different view.


To sum it all up, I know I haven't done the best job at always speaking words that honor God. Fortunately, God can redeem my lips. The lyrics of the hymn I posted are not just words to a song. They are a prayer. And it is my prayer that God will take my voice and let me sing for my King. It is my prayer that He will fill my lips with messages from Him.

Spring Break, Sunshine, and lots of Singing

Spending two weeks with forty college-aged women isn't something that has ever been on my list of things to do before I die. However, that is precisely how I am spending my first spring break as a college student. Along with many students from around the country, I have been able to hit a couple of beautiful Florida beaches on my break from classes and homework. But my spring break is very different than that of the typical college student. This is my first time serving as a part of a traveling Christian music ministry. I have used school breaks to go on missions trips and work on local service projects, but I have never thought that performing music could be a legitimate form of Christian service. I am glad to say that I have now experienced otherwise.

I have been in my school choirs from the seventh grade through senior year. Looking back on that experience, I remember emotions ranging from joy to regret and even deep sadness. I loved performing in concerts and the community of friends the most. I often auditioned for solos, and I even got to sing my first ever duet with my sister in senior year. However, I was also very competitive about choir. I competed in contests and auditioned for the chamber choir. Sometimes I did well, but other times I failed to meet the standard. Hindsight has taught me how foolish of me it was to cry so many tears over not making the cut in chamber choir. All those tears and all that resentment are indicative of what my heart really treasured at that time. I desired to be recognized for my talents. I wanted to be grouped with "the best". I sinfully wanted all the glory for myself. And when I didn't get the praise and affirmation I wanted, I was devastated. I'm not exactly sure what made me join the Women's Choir at Moody. Maybe I was trying to redeem my failure of making the high school chamber choir. Maybe I just wanted to have another activity. More than likely, however, God wanted to teach me some lessons about what it means to find satisfaction in giving Him the glory instead of treasuring it for myself.

My experiences in the MBI Women's Concert Choir have taught me what it really means to sing for the glory of God. Unlike my high school choirs, all of the music we perform declares a part of the gospel, if not the whole thing! This alone has been an amazing discovery of a new way to worship. I don't mean to say that musical worship must be perfect in its presentation, but I do believe that truly beautiful music can be very God-honoring. The essential lesson I have learned through being a member of WCC is that I have to give up any desire for personal glory if I want to truly give God the glory in my singing.

Being on tour is exhausting. Traveling by bus for hours every day, staying at different host homes every night, and singing with full voice for hours are taxing on my body and soul. Temptations don't stop on spring break either. The decisions of how to spend my time on long bus rides, the patience required when interacting with host families, and the desire to give a 50% performance in a concert all represent the kinds of temptations I have encountered on tour. Furthermore, it is very easy to be selfish when you have 39 other young women each defending her own highest comfort- myself included. If that sounds difficult, then I accurately described the difficulty of a two-week long choir tour. However, if you have ever been involved in any kind of ministry, you know that difficulty is always present. Mission trips are always exhausting, composing sermons is difficult, meeting physical and spiritual needs is taxing, and those are just a few areas of ministry. Fortunately, the joy that is the result of fruitful ministry is worth every moment of difficulty.

Performing in choir concerts has given me great joy as God has been teaching how to perform for Him. Our director has taught us the importance of being ladies who possess poise and grace. Hearing the stories of God's faithfulness in the lives of believers all around the country through host homes has been amazing. We have also learned how to minister to and be ministered by the church. However, the most significant blessing of this tour has been the realization that I can enjoy singing and being in a choir without the competitive, self-serving attitude I had in high school. I don't feel compelled to be the best, so long as I am giving my best for Jesus. I won't fight for any glory but the glory of my King. Choir has enabled me to learn yet another way to fulfill the command, "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31).

When the world has plunged me in its deepest pit...

There are times when life takes an unexpected turn, and we find ourselves in the depths of despair. The hardest part is that these times are unexpected. We don't see them coming. I could give examples, but I feel that would be a waste of space. I think that most people can identify at least one time in their life when they received bad news that immediately sent them into tears. In my short 19 years, I can already identify at least three times when this has happened to me personally. Sadly, I witnessed a close friend experience this kind of situation just last night. It might seem odd for me to write about something so grave and depressing. But last night I learned something incredibly beautiful from the way a sister handled grief.

'Hope' is a word that Christians and non-Christians alike are comfortable using. However, it would be incorrect to assume that the term is being used in the same way by both of these groups of people. The casual way many use the word 'hope' is evidenced in phrases like, "I hope my classes will be cancelled tomorrow," "I hope the weather is good for our vacation," and "I hope I win the lottery." Using the word 'hope' in this way reveals that what the person hopes for is either superficial, unlikely, or pretty much impossible. This is not the kind of hope that will get someone through times of grief. Imagine what little comfort it would be to say to someone who just lost their job, "I hope you can find another job!" Instead, wouldn't we say, "I am confident that you will find another job!" But last night I saw a truer, deeper hope. It is the Christian hope- a hope that only those who are truly in Christ can know.

The Christian hope is really faith. We have faith that this world is not all there is. We have faith that our King is coming back to bring justice. We have faith that we have a heavenly advocate, who is pleading our case before God on our behalf. Maybe all of that doesn't sound any more possible to you than winning the lottery does. But unlike the hope of the person who wishes to win the lottery, the Christian hope isn't merely wishful thinking. Christians are sure of what they hope for. They are certain that these things will come to pass. The Scriptures say it beautifully: "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see" (Hebrews 11:1).

So in case you were wondering, Christians still grieve. They just grieve differently. They grieve without forgetting their hope in the King and His promises to them. Seeing my sister in Christ tearfully professing her trust in God's faithfulness even in the midst of her fear and sadness was probably the most moving thing I have experienced at college. Today in choir rehearsal, we learned a hymn that really reminded me of my dear sister's hope.

"There is a hope that lifts my weary head,

A consolation strong against despair,

That when the world has plunged me in its deepest pit,

I find the Savior there!"

Only those who belong to Christ can know this kind of hope. As a matter of fact, God's Word tells us that because our hope is so certain, we can boast about it! "But Christ is faithful as a son over God’s house. And we are his house, if we hold on to our courage and the hope of which we boast" (Hebrews 3:6). So I will boast in my hope, but I will also share the reason for my hope with others. It is hardly something that I could keep to myself.

Ashes, Tears, and Spilt Perfume

I have at certain times in my life sensed that I have done wrong. To deny this would be to deny the existence of any moral sensitivity inside myself. I sense this when I have let someone down by failing to meet a deadline or an expectation. I feel it when words spoken carelessly came back to haunt me. I sense it when I have done something in secret that would make me ashamed if anyone else knew. These feelings that make me aware that my conscience has been defiled have a special name: guilt. Sometimes guilt nags away at me until I can hardly stand to look myself in the mirror. But after a while, the nagging voice of guilt starts to fade and something much worse takes up residence in the heart. Apathy.

The disillusioned equate apathy with freedom. "I don't care what anyone else thinks! I will live my life as I wish! I am free!" is it's battle cry. Apathy doesn't listen to the nagging voice of guilt. That voice was put on silent ages ago. But apathy doesn't remain in the stage of passive indifference for very long. No longer needing to defend itself with it's battle cry, apathy does everything it can to make itself known. People who are indifferent to their consciences aren't afraid to bash someone behind their back (or even to their face). They aren't worried about their responsibilities or the expectations others have of them. They zealously defend every hateful word that escapes their lips. They express pride over the actions they once considered shameful. And while the apathetic person may be free from the nagging voice of guilt, he is really just a slave to his passions.

Last Wednesday was Ash Wednesday, a day with it's roots in early Christian tradition. The purpose of the day is to reflect on one's past sins and mourn over them. In Roman Catholic and some Protestant churches, ashes are placed on the forehead of those who wish to make an outward confession of their inward mourning heart. A friend recently brought to my attention that some people understand this to be an offense to the cross of Christ. After all, if we have put our trust in Jesus, our sins are completely dealt with. "Therefore there is now no more condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 8:1). But while this is entirely true, the Bible tells us that God esteems those who are contrite in spirit (Isa. 66:2). This assertion begs a few questions: "What does it mean to be contrite in spirit? Is it the same thing as feeling guilty? If so, why would God esteem our guilt?" Recently I've learned that guilt and contrition are not synonymous. Our guilt and apathy are not what God delights in. Instead, David cries out in his psalm of repentance, "the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart" (Psalm 51:17). So what does that look like in real life? The Word of God tells us a story of one woman who knew what it meant to come before her Lord with a broken and contrite heart.

In Luke 7:36-50 we read of a woman who, though she had lived a sinful life, approached the feet of Jesus in the company of many religious leaders. In sorrow over her sins the woman began to weep. So much did she weep that Jesus' feet were actually wet with her tears! Noticing this, the woman then began to dry His feet with her hair! Then she does something very strange. She begins to kiss the feet of Jesus and pour expensive perfume on them. The religious leader who invited Jesus over for dinner became indignant. He was repulsed by the woman's sinfulness and was shocked that Jesus was not equally repulsed. But then Jesus told a short parable that made everything seem a little clearer. This woman, in her great sorrow, exhibited so much love for Jesus. She had much to be forgiven, so she loved Him all the more because of all He had forgiven her. By spilling her perfume in an act of worship, the woman exhibited faith that Jesus could heal her. Her sins moved her to tears at the feet of Jesus, but they also moved her to worship Him by pouring perfume on His feet. In response to the woman's actions Jesus told her, "Your faith has saved you; go in peace" (Luke 7:50).

This woman was broken in spirit and contrite in heart. She sensed guilt over her sins, but she was not apathetic about them. Guilt prompted her to recognize that her sins had not been adequately dealt with, and contrition was the result. There are many days (especially as of late) when I deeply identify with this sinful woman. Painful remorse moves me to weep at the feet of my King, begging for mercy. And also like this woman, I come in worship, with faith that He can heal me. This is what God esteems. This is my sacrifice to Him.

So no, I do not think it is okay for Christians to be consumed by guilt. That would indicate that their sins have not been repented of. And no, I do not think that self-condemnation is appropriate for the Christian. That would indicate that they do not have faith in the power of the cross. But do I believe that God honors those who are humble and contrite- those who mourn over their sins with the faith that He can heal?

Yes, I believe it with all my heart.

When it doesn't Thrill like you Think it Will

There are days when everything I want seems within reach. There are days when I am satisfied that I have accomplished the major goals I have been striving toward. And then there are the days when I realize that achieving goals never really guarantees happiness. At this time a year ago, I was eagerly anticipating all the adventures I would be experiencing in a few months time. The thrill of traveling and doing ministry for a summer and the thrill of starting my new life in the city at the school of my dreams were the goals that I had been working toward all of Senior year, and in some sense, all of my life. Don't misunderstand, both of those experiences were incredibly thrilling. In fact, I don't know that I have ever been happier in my life than when I was in Guatemala or here at school. Going to new places and meeting new people satisfies that desire for adventure that God put in me. However, today I heard a tragic story from a woman that reminded me that having everything you want and doing everything the right way doesn't safeguard you from disaster.

Even if I have everything that I want, tragedy is always only a moment away. I don't say that to be pessimistic, but I say it to be realistic. Since everything I've worked for could be taken away in an instant, it makes me wonder how I would respond should tragedy ever strike (as it inevitably will- at least to some degree). "Are my successes the things that my happiness relies on?" "When I fail to accomplish a goal, does it devastate me?...Should it?" "What is the one thing, that if it were to be taken away, it would ruin me?" These are the questions that have haunted me since I started writing this blog a few days ago. I know what the answers to these questions ought to be, but if I am honest with myself, my answers are more than a little disappointing.

I've become pretty prideful in my accomplishments of the last year. I feel happy when I see that I have done a lot of "admirable" things. I graduated with honors- as I wanted to. I served overseas- as I wanted to. I'm attending a well-known college in a well-known city- as I wanted to. These accomplishments make me happy, and I can't help but postulate: what if I hadn't accomplished these things?Would failure have devastated me? If suddenly today I were unable to attend MBI, would I be ruined? I can't say for sure what my reactions would have been, but I realize how superficial happiness is when it is completely relative to a person's success in life. Success can't bring real happiness. Sure, it can make you feel good about yourself, but there is a lot it can't do. Success can't ward off tragedy or misfortune or death. Success can't make people love you. Success can't make God love you. In light of all these reflections, I'd like to explain the one thing that can satisfy in a way that success never will.

Even if every tragedy imaginable came my way, Jesus would not desert me. His love for me does not depend on my successes or failures. He never fails to satisfy. When I pursue Him, I find Him. When I cry out to Him, He hears me and comforts me. If you don't know what it is like to really know Jesus, then all of that will sound like a lot of abstract gibberish. But it is one thing to say the things I've said (as many have), and it is an entirely different thing to really experience a relationship with the King of heaven. Don't miss this! A relationship with Jesus will never fail to satisfy.

Humans look for all sorts of things to satisfy their hearts' desires. We are constantly on the search for the next big thrill, yet we are unendingly disappointed. Nothing ever thrills quite like you think it will. Success, money, romance, you name it. They each promise a thrill that they cannot deliver. Sometimes this blog serves me as a means of self-discovery. By writing, I unearth the issues that are really at work in my heart. Today, the Holy Spirit has convicted me of my misplaced source of satisfaction. And once again I re-learn that only my King will satisfy, and my only appropriate response to Him is worship. "My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you" (Psalm 63:5).

Whats in a Name?

I was walking into the office of one of my professors near the beginning of this semester to pick up a missed assignment. After I had stated my name and purpose, my professor said to me, "Andrea, do you know what your name means?" I'm sure that I have looked it up before, but I couldn't remember at the moment, so I replied, "No, sir." In his extra-thick southern accent my professor explained, "It means courageous or brave. Now young lady, are you a courageous young woman of God?" Taken slightly aback by the question, I stammered, "Um, well, I certainly hope to be." My professor handed me the missed assignment and ushered me out the door with the parting phrase, "And by God's grace you will be." The whole scene (as do all of my classes with this professor) left me trying to catch my breath and collect my thoughts. Because this professor speaks so quickly and with such intensity, his students often find themselves straining to hear and process every word. It was not until this past Wednesday that I was able to fully appreciate my professor's piece of knowledge about my name.

Christian author and public speaker, Francis Chan, addressed the MBI student body and literally thousands of others last Wednesday night in one of the events for the institute's Founder's Week. I fervently took notes throughout the numerous sermons I heard that week, but none of the sermons inspired me to change more than Chan's words about courage. Now, I can look back on certain events in my life and identify moments where I exhibited courage. When I was younger, adults told me it took courage to get up in front of an audience to speak or to sing. This past summer I realized that it took some degree of courage to fly internationally by myself. I have even envisioned my own future as one characterized by daily circumstances that will require acts of courage. However, after listening to what Francis Chan had to say about the subject, I felt more like a coward than anything else. Let me explain.

You may have heard it said that to be brave does not mean to never experience fear. Rather, to be brave means to act courageously in spite of fear. Chan drove home this point by expressing (emphatically, might I add) that it is normal to be nervous about sharing your faith with people. However, it is not normal for Christians to hide behind this fear and rarely, if ever, share their faith with others. I was suddenly reliving moments in my life where I did not share the hope of Christ with others simply because I was afraid of being shut out by them. I was paralyzed by a fear of being rejected, so I opted for keeping my hope to myself. Convicted as I was, I was beginning to realize that it really takes courage to share your faith with others. You don't know whether someone will shut you down or not take you seriously. It really is scary to risk being rejected by others!

Suddenly I was reminded of the meaning of my name. 'Andrea' means courageous! Now I don't think that my parents intentionally named me in the hopes that I would one day fulfill the meaning of my name. However, God did knit me together in my mother's womb, and He knew the days ordained for me before one of them came to be (Psalm 139:13,16). So perhaps God had a hand in my naming. He clearly has put a desire in my heart to do bold and courageous things for the honor of His name.

After last week, I came away with a resolve to pray for greater courage in the everyday task of sharing the hope of Jesus with others. I am also resolved to let the Word of God be the deciding factor for every decision I make. I know that others have my best interests at heart when they try to dissuade me from doing anything too radical for the fame of my King, but I won't be talked out of doing anything that God has clearly commanded me to do in His Word. I am commanded to go and make disciples of all nations (Matt. 28:19), and God-willing that is what I will do. I will do it here in the US, and if I leave this nation, I will do it wherever God leads. It may be politically incorrect. It may be dangerous. It may be the most frightening thing I will ever do. But equipped with courage from God, I will be obeying my Father's command. And as a faithful servant delights to serve a good King, I will delight to obey mine.

A Watery Grave

Just over a week ago, I visited a church here in Chicago with a few of my friends who attend it regularly. It was an incredible morning as several young believers were baptized.The pastor said a few words beforehand drawing attention to the fact that the practice of baptism is actually quite strange. Those who haven't grown up familiar with the practice would rightly be skeptical about the event taking place that Sunday morning. Just think about it. Someone professes to be a follower of Jesus Christ, and then they get plunged into a pool of water. "Why do they do that?" you might be thinking. "Why the ritual?...Why get soaking wet just because you follow Jesus?" These are fair questions. As I witnessed the baptisms that Sunday, I thought about why baptism is so powerful. It is powerful for individuals, and it is powerful for a crowd. Moreover, baptism represents two very powerful images: death and life.

When a person being baptized is submerged under the water- this symbolizes their death. This might be a strange concept to some, but it makes perfect sense to the believer. For the believer knows that he (or she) was once dead in their sins. I remember what it was like to be dead in my sins. My family does too, although perhaps they wouldn't ever think about it in those terms. When I think back to the time before I knew Jesus, I remember trying to cross every line I could without getting into trouble. I recall lying through my teeth and having hateful thoughts deeply embedded in my mind. I remember the desires of my heart, and today those desires shame me. What was more, I wasn't satisfied with my life. I was doing everything I wanted to do. No one could tell me 'no'. And yet, I was so unsatisfied. I trust that by now you know the story. But if you don't, the best way for me to sum it up is that Jesus changed everything.

When the person being baptized rises up from underneath the water, it is like they are rising to life from a watery grave. Once they were dead, but now they live. Every believer can relate to me when I say that Jesus changes everything. Looking back once again, the girl I was before I knew Jesus is hardly recognizable with the person I am today. My dreams are different now. My behavior and my speech is different. However, the greatest change is that I am wholly satisfied. When before I couldn't figure out my life's purpose, now I am sure that I was made to glorify my King. When before I didn't know where I belonged, now I know that I am a member of the largest family on earth- the universal Church. These things have brought me the greatest joy and peace. Joy because I have such a high calling for my life! Peace because I no longer worry about who I am or where I'm going! What I have just discussed has shown the powerful symbolic impact baptism can have on an individual. My own baptism when I was 16 was a joyful experience that I will never forget. But the power of baptism is not limited to the one being baptized. It is a testimony to all who witness it of God's power to change a life.

People have come up with countless objections to Christianity, and we believers have Christian apologetics to try and counteract those objections. However, there is one piece of evidence that no atheist, however strong his arguments, can refute: millions and millions of changed lives. Drug addicts turned clean, prostitutes made pure, murderers turned peacemakers, and the self-righteous humbled - all to the credit of Jesus Christ. Some might still object claiming that these people simply turned over a new leaf. But never have so many people, from so many places, for such a great length of history, all claimed that it was not they who changed themselves, but Christ's power in them.

The power of a changed life causes outsiders looking in to question it. That is why baptism is so powerful. It makes skeptics question the power of a changed life, and it causes believers to worship God for the changed life of their new brother or sister in Christ. I personally know the power of a changed life, and it is my prayer that you as well would encounter the power of the risen Lord to change your life or the life of someone you know. So if you find yourself unsatisfied with life, don't look to another self-help book. Look to the King.

All of Us are Mockers

Lately as I've been signing on to Facebook and scrolling through my newsfeed, I've found myself bombarded with all kinds of insensitivity. Whatever the subject, people are making bold claims without much regard for how their statuses might reflect their reputation or the reputation of someone else. No one seems to be thinking before they post. In fact, the opposite seems to be the case. People will post anything that comes to mind when a pulse of passion is running through their veins. I was starting to get annoyed reading posts that were mocking a plethora of subjects: young love, underage drinking, teen parenthood, promiscuous girls- just to name a few. I even made a comment on someone else's status expressing my own disapproval of such negativity. But then today, as I was sitting down to vent some of my frustration about this topic through this blog, I remembered that I have learned the lesson of loving instead of judging only recently. Obviously, I haven't mastered it yet, but I am trying to see the world through a different set of eyes. Let me take you back to just a few months ago when I first realized that there was a lesson that I needed to learn.

I was walking back toward campus from Union Station with a friend. In Chicago, not much should surprise me as I walk down the street, but I'd only lived here a little over a month at the time of this experience. So when I saw a group of guys in their early twenties with one young lady among them walking in front of us, I naturally made a few silent judgments. The guys looked, walked, and talked like the kind of guys you would expect to be real players and partyers. And the girl was wearing a slinky black top with a completely transparent back. To be painfully honest, the first thought that passed through my mind was, "She looks like a slut." And then, some equally painful words were whispered into my ear by my friend. "She must be so broken inside." I was so ashamed of what my first judgments of this girl were. That day I decided that from then on I would try to look past a person's exterior and into their heart.

It all comes down to one primary principle; everyone is broken. Every single person on this planet has known grief, and grief is not something to be mocked. So whenever you are tempted to post something vehement about ignorant middle school lovers, teen parents, dead beats, drunks, drug addicts, promiscuous girls, think about the brokenness and pain that you are mocking. Think about the 12 year old whose heart has been broken by a boy and who reads an insensitive post about 'girls like her'. Think about the guy that feels like he has ruined his life and sometimes thinks about suicide when he reads a post about 'dead beats like him'. Think about the promiscuous girl who is desperately longing for real love when she reads a post about 'whores like her'. I could go on, but I think the point is clear. Mocking someones pain is easy when you don't know who you are mocking, but (whether you know the person or not) mocking someones pain is always wrong.

And as your reading this, you can probably recall some time when your pain has been mocked or trivialized. Maybe it wasn't from a post on Facebook or Twitter. Maybe it was from a newspaper article, a news report, an overheard conversation, or even just a judgmental glance. It might be of some small comfort to know that I will not mock or trivialize your pain. I'm only just beginning to learn how to love people, but I would be blessed to learn how to better love you. On the other hand, it should be a great comfort for you to know that there is someone who can truly sympathize with your pain.

Jesus was rejected by people from his hometown- even by some of his family members. He was labeled and unjustly accused. He was spit on and beaten. He was mocked. And as you may have been the victim of judgment by those who don't really know your whole story, Jesus is the only innocent victim of judgment. Sinful people like you and me crucified the Son of God. Jesus never sinned, yet He was willing to die to take away ours. Because of His great love, my King died for those who rejected Him, labeled Him, falsely accused Him, spit on Him, beat Him, mocked Him, and crucified Him. And if you or I were there the day Jesus hung on the cross, we would have mocked Him too.

All of us are mockers.

Yet there is hope for those who put their faith in Jesus:

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need"(Hebrews 4:15-16).

The Opposite Way

If you've ever been in an auditorium, a gymnasium, or a large gathering of any kind after the crowd is dismissed, you know that it is nearly impossible to walk in a direction that goes against the masses. Racking my brain for a personal experience when this has happened to me, the first memories that come to mind are the moments when after a concert or musical that I've performed in, I try and make my way through the crowd to meet up with my family. I am eager to get to them so that I can ask them what they thought of the performance, and I'm eager to give and receive hugs and even words of affirmation. However, as I have said, getting there is somewhat tricky. Pushing past the crowds, saying, "excuse me" whenever possible, is an awkward and pretty uncomfortable experience. I can read the expressions on some of the faces of the people I squeeze in between. They usually seem to say, "I know you want to get somewhere, but you should really be considerate and let me and all the rest of these people go first." I understand their frustration, but I have always found it worth it to undergo the awkwardness of wading through the crowd. As often as poor analogies are used in Christian circles, I am sometimes reluctant to use analogies at all. But Jesus used them, and they were always effective. Besides, tonight I am on a mission to encourage a friend, and this analogy seems to be very fitting for the situation.

When someone is truly living for the King, everyone knows it. Servants of Jesus live differently than the rest of the world. They make decisions differently, they talk differently, and they enjoy life differently. As we can tell from history, people who are different often have to deal with awkward, uncomfortable or even painful encounters with others who disdain them for their 'differentness'. Our human instinct makes us gravitate towards those who are most like us, and our sinful nature makes us distance ourselves and sometimes form prejudices against those who are unlike us. So the genuine Christ-follower is bound to experience some opposition. Going the opposite way that everyone else seems to be going is never going to be easy, but the Christian knows that it is worth it.

I know from experience what it is like to experience resistance and hostility because of my beliefs. Just like going the opposite way through a crowd, sometimes you get dirty looks. At times a person will dare to utter a profanity at you. The worst part, however, is when these hurtful looks and words come from people you thought were your friends. Also, just like going the opposite way through a crowd, sometimes you accidentally bump into someone and rub them the wrong way. Even genuine Christ-followers are bound to make mistakes in their journey of going against the grain. The best they can do is apologize and continue on their way. Fortunately, the best part of this analogy is the last part.

The one thing to remember when your going the opposite way is that your destination is worth the opposition and hostility you might encounter on the way there. When I walk the opposite direction through a crowd, I don't take my eyes off of the people I am going toward. Otherwise, I might lose them. In the same way, the Christian has to keep their eyes set firmly on their destination. However, this is where the analogy falls short. For Jesus isn't only waiting at the finish line as his people struggle through the crowd, He is there with them. He is softening the blows at times, and he is filling them up with peace and power to get the rest of the way there. The only danger lies in losing sight of Jesus. If I lose sight of Jesus, pushing through the opposition becomes exhausting, and instead of being filled with peace and power, I am filled with doubts and despair. The Word of God gives better encouragement than I can:

"But in your hearts set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience, so that those who speak maliciously against your good behavior in Christ may be ashamed of their slander" (1 Peter 3:15-16).

So my friend, set your heart on Jesus. Keep your eyes on the king.

Too Little Too Late?

Have you ever experienced that moment when you realize that you've left something unsaid, undone, unmade that you should have accomplished so much sooner? Or maybe its the other way around. You are waiting for someone to apologize or do something to make up to you for what they did a long time ago? Sometimes this feeling eats away at me. More often than not, I play the grudge-holder. I can get this sick satisfaction from being able to prove to myself that I've been wronged and thus deserve to have that wrong made up to me. What is even more despicable is that there have been times when someone has apologized to me for hurting me in some way, and I have blown off their apology only to continue to harbor resentment toward them. On the other hand, I know what it is like when you have something you need to say, but it is painfully hard to say it. Asking for forgiveness is an example of one of those circumstances.

Just a short while ago, I was given the chance to respond to an apology that was long overdue. It was not a wordy apology; it was simple and seemingly sincere. But the very fact that the apology was even made seemed to beg the question, "Isn't this apology too little, too late?" It was, in fact, an apology that I was not expecting to ever hear. I had been bitter and resentful toward this person for quite some time, but eventually I chose to let it go. So hearing the words I was never expecting to hear came quite honestly as a shock. I was suddenly faced with a decision. I could respond contemptuously, reasoning to myself (and to my offender) that I should have received that apology years ago. I could have made the outward appearance of forgiving my offender while in my heart really rekindling my bitterness toward the person. OR I could have chosen to genuinely forgive my offender with my head, heart, and mouth. By God's grace, I chose to respond in the latter of the three ways. Needless to say, this unexpected apology made quite the impact on me, and I began to consider what had changed in me that had allowed me to respond so differently now than I would have in the bitter years of before. I know my own heart well enough to say that had this same experience happened to me a year or more ago, I probably would have not really forgiven this person. I would have clung to my bitterness as if it were a part of who I am. So what changed? I was thinking through this question myself when I realized the answer was more profound than I thought.

As I mature in my relationship with Jesus, a sanctifying process is taking place in me. Of course I will never reach perfection nor anywhere close to it in this lifetime. However, as time progresses, it should become apparent to me and to others that I have matured spiritually. Thus, the act of truly forgiving someone should come more naturally the older I get and the closer I grow with the Lord. The word "sanctification" is used to describe one becoming more and more like Christ. When I was processing all of this in my head, all of a sudden the joy of my salvation hit me like a current. Jesus forgives as if it is not difficult for Him to do so at all! Jesus does not hold grudges or harbor bitterness toward me. When I think on the moment of my salvation, I am amazed that God could forgive someone like me.

My sin was (and is) an utter offense to my king. I had rebelled against him from childhood on, and I continue to sin against Him daily. But did my king scoff at me on the moment when I surrendered my life to Him, saying, "Your pathetic apology for you innumerable sins is far too little, far too late. I cannot accept you into my family or into my courts."? NO! Instead, like the shepherd who sought tirelessly through the night, He says to the hosts of heaven, "Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep" (Luke 15:6). And that is what happens every single time someone comes to Jesus in surrender with a repentant heart; heaven rejoices. "I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent" (Luke 15:7).

This observance ought to move me to worship and repentance; that while I can struggle to find it in my heart to forgive someone who has wronged me once, Jesus rejoices to forgive me of all I have wronged him.