for such a time as now

I sit there listening, in a room of other people, its moments like these that you try to soak up as much as you can, not wanting to miss any of the details. Taking to memory every bit of it so that you will not so soon forget it all. But sometimes there is just so much. Sometimes life can be so much to take in and figure out and think about.

While my head is overwhelmed, my soul knows to do the opposite. And maybe it doesn’t realize it always so quickly, but eventually I’m always reminded, reminded to go back to the point of quite, the point of surrender, the point that matters.

And I’m reminded that it’s really not all that difficult.  

We, we are the ones who overcomplicate it all, and when we do, we need to remember whose stage we are on. Remember the role we were called to fill. Remember the One whom we are following. Because when we look back to the Cross and what Jesus died for, the details and complexities fade. For there is no room for that here, not in a moment like this, not when we are at the feet of our Savior.  

It’s as if the wind turns for a moment and a corner of your life lifts and you get an unexpected glimpse of the underside of things. . . His plans and His ways, it seems to steal a bit of breath from the common lung.

It’s if you could see the underside of your life, you’d see that God is over all the details of your life.

Why would we dare to worry when the Creator himself has a hand in every detail, in every twist and turn, in every part of our being. He is there, over and in all of it.

So why would we need to worry about the details.

There is a bigger picture, and I know when I forget to see it, then my head can so easily get caught in the details, and that would leave us missing the greatest story, the one that is unfolding before our very eyes. There is a bigger picture than you and me and the ordinary lives, there is a call, a commissioning, and a demand as believers, to reach those outside the gate.  

How could  those, on the inside of the gate, forget the reason why they are on the inside of the gate? 

They are there for such a time a this. . . right now.  

You are where you are for such a time as this. . . not to gain anything. . . but to risk everything.

You are where you are for such a time as this. . . not to make an impression. . . but to make a difference.

This is the stage we walk on, this is the story we are living. This call, this commissioning; it was for right here, right now, for you and I to walk out fully.  

And so what in the world are we all doing for such a time as this?

We are here right now to hear the groaning of this upside down world, and to let it shake us from the inside, so as to remind us that we were given this life, so we might use it to give life to others. If you life isn’t about giving, then how are you to find real  life? What does it profit a man to gain the whole world, but lose his own soul? 

We are here to make His name known, and to be the hand that reaches outside the gate to those who are loitering at the periphery.

This is why we are here, and this is who we are here for.

a kindred spirit

A friend I’ve never known, yes, that was her. A woman, advanced in years, a friend to the family, one that I had never met before. She was wonderful, captivating, a story teller, the warm-grandmother type, and she seemed to love me the moment we met. You’ve heard the old phrase on being kindred spirits, this was her.

She was a kindred spirit . . . in every way.

When she arrived as our dinner guest that night, she walked through an open front door, and the first thing she did was grab her long skirt and twirl it around fast, then she laughed and introduced herself. She was so full of life! How wonderful!

Instantaneously she fell right into place among us. She settled in the chair next to me…there was just something about her that made it seem like she had been in the family for years. She was the softest woman I have ever met and her presence spoke the peace that was upon her. Immediately I caught the reason behind her overflowing delight and the radiance that surrounded her. She was filled with the love and presence of God. She had a fire seemingly shut up in her bones, just as Jeremiah in the Bible.

It didn’t matter what we were talking about, whether it be food, old memories, funny stories, anything: through every conversation the Word of God was literally just flowing out of her. It wasn’t cliché, it wasn’t old quoted “Thee, Thy, Thou” verses, it was the most genuine heart and love that flowed through everything we talked about.

Because her heart was filled with Him, He was what flowed out of her.

I sat there and as each moment passed, every moment I spent talking with her made me adore her even more. I want to be like this woman. . . soft: because the beauty of God has painted her, wise: because she hears and lives by His words, and loving: because her heart was set on her Savior.

What captured me even more, was the fact that she had such a burden and a heart for this generation. She said to me,  I truly believe it is an honor, a honor, to be alive right now, at this time, there is so much work to be done, and I am honored that I am here so God can use me: right now.

and so, note by note, she plays

To feel the weight of each key, and then to hear it echo back, deep, rich, and riveting with emotion, that was what always drew her to the piano. To hear each note, sounding loud from the keys, to hear it resonate through the silence, that was what inspired her to sit down and play.

She sits down and her fingers remember even when she does not. She closes her eyes and its all there, somehow her fingers always remember how to move along the keys, they never forget. Was it from years of practice, hours of repetition, or was it simply because this was always where they felt as if they belonged. She never forgot how to feel the keys under her fingers. The technicalities have never mattered because once she sits down, her fingers always find their place.

And so, she plays.

The refrain was sounding as it should, and then suddenly the notes keep coming out all wrong. She looked up from the piano, took a deep breath and tried again. Still, it sounded off. Once more the persistence within her urged her to try again, again. Until finally she lowered her head on the piano. Where was this not coming out as it should, where was it going wrong?

Then something reminded her, if you want to play music through the hard parts, then you have to play the left hand alone. The right hand is your default and it will always come naturally, but you have to play the left alone, again and again, and then it will come.

It will come? Would it? Because after an hour of hearing the same inapt notes, it was hard to be optimistic.

So she played again, reminding herself, when you can play the left from memory, you can play through the rest. Note by note, she walked through the lines on the sheet. Note by note, she was committing each one to memory. For when it was time to play through the entire piece, knowing the right notes was the only way to play through the hard parts.

And you can’t really play, unless you know how to play through the hard parts.

And you know how to play through life’s hard parts when you know His love by heart.

She waits for a moment, remembering this. The first note sounds, holding on, and then the rest just come.

It's knowing who He is. It’s knowing His love by heart, His words by heart, His touch, His presence.

It’s knowing Him.

That’s how we play through the hard parts.

it stands alone

I close my eyes, searching for a way to organize all of my thoughts into words. Yet, despite every effort, the only thing that comes to my mind is a picture; a particular scene. I can see it vividly, exactly as it was once described to me. I remember hearing this story and listening to every detail, and now it plays in my head, and I can’t seem to find a way around it.

I’m filled with a deep discontent because I know that it is far too close to reality. 

If you will, imagine for a moment that we are both standing on the top of a mountain, observing everything before us. The flat top that we are standing on seems to stretch for miles. My eyes scan from one side to the other, and then I notice that this wide span is interrupted by a sharp and abrupt edge. It’s a sheer plummeting end to this mountain. Under any other circumstance this scene would be breathtaking, a view to stand in awe of, but right now, any thought of beauty is harshly rejected; simply because of what begins to happen before us. To the right I begin to see a line of people walking single file. At first it seems as if they are heading towards us. Yet, as they come closer, it’s clear that they were not headed in our direction, but rather straight towards this daunting edge. Curiously, they seem unaware as to what lies ahead; simply following willingly. I watch the first person leading this line. They seemed just as willing and unaware as the rest, until the reality of the edge appears. In an instant their face is filled with an immense fear. Yet step by step they continued to head directly towards the edge. It looked as if they struggled to stop the advancement towards the peril ahead, but every effort was wasted. Then I hear a cry for help, as they reached out their hands, pleading for us to save them. My heart falls. I sit here and I’m shaken and unsettled. This is our generation. As the unavoidable outcome appears, in desperation they begin to reach out to those who are not a part of the line. For its then, that they finally realize there was the choice not to follow the crowd, there was something different that they could have chosen. And in that instant they become desperate for hope, for something to hold onto, for something to reach out and save them.

This. Is. Our. Generation. And. My. Heart. Breaks.

It’s in that moment when you come face-to-face with the glaring need of every human heart, that you finally become aware of how personal that need really is. These longing hearts are searching for answers… they are desperate for answers.

The threat, however, is that the world holds an abundance of answers, answers that are readily accepted simply because they are agreeable and comfortable.

People want an answer that will fit into their life, not fill it.  

And this is where we see the paradox of the whole situation. Here we are, standing, ready, and desperate for God to use us to reach this need. There’s an urgency inside of us to share the One answer that will save, that will rescue, and fulfill. Yet, in the midst of this, we’ve slowly acknowledged and even accepted the idea, that in order for society to receive this answer, we have to somehow present it in a way that is going to be acceptable to them. We’ve silently agreed to the idea that if society is going to hear what we have to share, then we have to alter it, even just slightly, so that it will fit into their lives comfortably.

And that’s the problem!

The moment we start trying to form Jesus to look like us and be who we want Him to be, when we try to take His words and alter them so they are acceptable to society, that is the moment when we loose all reality of Who. He. Is.

I breathe deep and begin to think about how simple it is. All we have to do is get back to Jesus, we have to get back to allowing His words, and His words alone, stand before us and do the work. That’s it. We have to be willing to let Him use us, but we have to remember that it’s not by us that we are reaching people. . . it’s by Him.

God’s word is God’s word.

It does not need to be altered to be made more powerful for this generation.

It can stand alone, and when it does it has power. 

As we stand in this situation, as we are faced with this reality, there is a huge opportunity for this paradox to arise and shatter the entire scene. In an instant we can be the ones to get in the way.

It’s terrifying to me, to think that we might be standing there watching that scene happen before our eyes. And as we stand there, we know the words of the One who will save them, and yet we are standing there trying to make it all relevant, trying to find some ‘wow’ factor that will grab their attention, and all the while we are missing them! And more frightening we are missing Him!

It’s even more terrifying to me that we so easily forget and even dismiss the magnitude of God’s power. My heart goes back to that scene, to the picture of the cliff, and I am reminded again of how mighty He is. When we allow God to go first, He does the work it takes to get His words into their hearts.

Why do we so easily forget something that is so extraordinary.  

Jesus leaves no doubt about the meaning of His words. No. Doubt.

There are no variables in God’s word. That means that it is timeless, which means that is it just as relevant today, as it was thousands of years ago. It’s unchanging, which means that the meaning behind what He spoke, has not, and will not change simply because our society is changing.

If we want to see our generation saved, then we need to start seeing God’s word spread like a wildfire. This is where it starts.

But just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the Gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God. For we never came with words of flattery as you know . . . so, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the Gospel of God, but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us. – 1 Thessalonians 2:4-5,8

rooted at the edge

The door closes behind me and I walk across the yard, to the edge of the hill. My hands find the picket fence and I stand there looking out across the valley below.

I stand there and take a deep breath. There is something difference about tonight, everything here seems untouched, unscathed by the haste and striving pace of the world. The landscape seems as if it’s being orchestrated to move along in time. As the light escapes the sky, the pace of things is slowed even more, stilled, quieted, and I begin to feel it in my heart.

I stood there, rooted, loosing track of time because I found Him and I didn’t want to leave. 

There’s no need to keep up with the world because it goes at much too fast of a pace, and if we followed, we would miss the moments like these. . . we would miss Him.

The world can continue to compete to be heard and esteemed and known, the world can continue to strive, but I don’t have to. I can breathe deep and feel God’s embrace, knowing that this sea of peace is the only thing that can fill.

When we give up the need to compete in this world, we can accept that we are complete in Christ.

There is no lack found there, there is no need to be better or do more, because He is enough.

My hands reach up. What more can you do in a moment like that. Then I feel my heart imitating the same movement, soundlessly reaching up, reaching to find the hand of my Father. Reaching for the embrace of the One who would quiet and calm my soul.

This is all that will ever matter: that we open wide enough for Him to fill us.

I don’t need to be heard, because I’m known. I don’t need to strive, because I’m stilled.

Somewhere in between the door and this edge. Somewhere in between my surrender and His pursuit. Somewhere in between hands raised and knees bent low, this is where I am at. This is where He finds us.