Thoughts: The In-Between Week

Warning: this blog post will be controversial. In this blog post, I'm going to be real. I'm going to relate what's happened to me this past week with no cares for what anyone is going to think of me, positively or negatively. God has called me to share this story exactly as it happened, and so that is what I'm going to do. I think it's time for some blatancy. I think it's time to leave behind self-consciousness, so long as we're speaking in accordance with the Spirit of God in us. Why do we fear and dread so deeply speaking to our brothers and sisters in Christ the good things God is doing for us? Why do we fear sounding "crazy" or "radical"? Isn't that what we're supposed to be? Aren't we supposed to be different? In any case, I'm going to be. With that in mind, here's the lovely tale of what God has led me through in the past week.

Last Sunday, the other students and some of the staff left to do ministry in India and Nepal. After going with them to the airport bright and early in the morning, I returned to the base, finished packing up, and set out on a journey. I didn't know where I was going; I only knew that God was calling me to a week away with Him and He would lead me where I needed to go. I wanted to step out on blind faith. I wanted to have to trust God, and not be able to trust myself. I was tired of the "easy" Christian life, and I was tired of only going to God when I had a huge problem. So I set out, walking in faith and an old pair of TOMS, with my backpack on one shoulder and my uke on the other.

I needed time to process what He's been speaking to me over the past three months, and I needed time to reevaluate the next steps I need to make to continue following Him.

I left the base that morning in tears. I was leaving behind the most important chapter of my life to date, and I had no next destination. God quickly stepped in, though. I took the bus to Antigua, the city five minutes away from where I've been living, and I got a breakfast of tortillas and a mango smoothie. Then I set off walking. At one corner, I stopped, and I turned. Not for any reason, but because I felt like I should. Because God was telling me that I should. At the end of that street, I got on a bus. Not because I had decided where I was going, but because I knew that was the bus I needed to be on. It was a bus to Guatemala City. During that hour-long ride of bumping around and trying not to spill my smoothie on the man next to me, God put the idea in my head to get to a town called Rio Dulce, on the east coast of Guatemala. The day before, a man in our group of students had told me that he had stayed there at a hotel owned by a man from Switzerland, and it was a good place.

A few minutes after entering Guatemala City, I stood up to get off the bus. It wasn't a decision I really made; I had no idea where I was or how to get to the next place I needed to be. But I felt God telling me to get off, so I did. I walked a little way, probably for about five minutes, until a taxi driver stopped and asked where I was going.

"I don't want a taxi; I'm taking busses to save money," I said.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Puerto Barrios," I said, giving him the name of a large city near the place I wanted to go.
Then he said something to me about taking me to a bus to get there, but I didn't understand him fully. I don't know why, but I agreed. In more direct words, God opened the door and pushed me into the taxi. A few minutes later, I got out at a bus station. I had no idea where in the city I had ended up. I went inside, and there was a bus leaving soon for Rio Dulce. I got in line, waited my turn, and then bought a ticket. I want to stress at this point that I didn't even tell the taxi driver the right city I wanted to go to, but still God made it all work out.

When it was time, I got on the bus, and it was wonderful. It was safe, inexpensive, and even comfortable. I praised God for leading me that far and settled in for the seven-hour bus ride. I listened to music and slept most of the way. Toward the end of the trip, as it began to get dark, I became very anxious. Suddenly, I didn't ever want the bus to stop. I didn't ever want to get off and have to find my way alone in a foreign city. A week ago, I would have let that anxiety overtake me, but that night I decided to pray instead. I put on different music; music that would give me heart and make me brave. Music that would remind me that my God is in control; that my Father was the Creator of the universe; that He led me that far and would continue to lead me until I had found a safe place to spend the night.

That evening the music and the Spirit of God lulled me into peace as we drove across the bridge and I looked out across the water, suddenly excited for the adventure God had in store for me.

As we came into town, a perfect song played...

Feels like it's been miles and miles; feels like it's an uphill climb.
Sometimes I get weary on the way,
But when I look back at where I've been,
When I look back, I'm sure of it;
I was right there in Your arms and I can say...

Every moment of my life,
God, You never left my side
Every valley, every storm;
You were there, You were there.
I don't need to know what's next;
You'll be with me every step.
Through it all, through it all,
I can see You carry me.

When the bus came into the station at Rio Dulce, I got off, and immediately a man asked me if I wanted a hotel. Without thinking, I replied that I wanted the Swiss man's hotel. Of course, because of God's great provision, the man said, "Casa Perico! I'll call the boat."

Just like that, with no struggle at all, I was on my way to a safe and affordable place to stay. Jehovah Jireh; the Lord will provide.

Monday and Tuesday I passed quietly at the hostel, a beautiful little place hidden in a swamp at the back of the lake and only accessible by boat. I spent my time reading the Bible and talking with God, and He spoke to me abundantly during that time in regard to His Word.

Wednesday was an adventure all its own.
I had a typical morning; I got up around 8:30, had breakfast, and read. That afternoon, I decided to go into town to try to find a church service to attend. I was loving my time alone with God, but I really missed spending time with other believers, after being surrounded by them every moment for the last three months.

After arriving in town, I started walking, looking for God to point out a church to me. I asked a few people on the street, but none of them gave me very good directions (or if they did, I didn't understand). I found a few options, but none of them felt right to me. One stood out to me, but it was closed up and didn't have a schedule of its services posted, so I kept walking. After going as far as I felt it necessary, I gave up and started walking back to town. On the way, I saw a woman coming out of the church that had attracted me earlier, and going down the hill to a place I hadn't noticed before. I followed her into an outdoor auditorium, and asked her if there would be a service that evening. She said yes, and I went to get dinner and came back about fifteen minutes before the service started.

I sat down near the back and began to observe my surroundings: a dirt floor. An aluminum roof. No walls. Plastic chairs. And people all around, on their knees, praying of their own accord before the service started. Not an alter call; just a genuine interest in humbling themselves before God to prepare their hearts for the service, a sight I had never seen in a well-put-together American church. Many people came and introduced themselves to me and welcomed me, and I felt peace in that place. It was different than any place I had ever gone for a church service, but in a good way. The Spirit of God was alive in that place, and no one had any care for the way they appeared to their neighbors. The only cares in the room were worshipping God for the good things He had done and being refilled for the rest of the week.

Thanks to God's provision and protection, I returned to my hostel room that evening with joy in my heart. I spent Thursday in much the same way as the previous days: reading and soaking in alone-time with my Creator.

Friday was another test of faith; it seemed I was late everywhere I was supposed to be. But I had faith and God had a plan; He changed some schedules and got me a free (and safe) taxi ride to get me home safe. When I got back to Antigua, He even reminded me that I needed to stop by my new school to get some paperwork before I went back to the base; something I'd entirely forgotten about, exhausted after a day of traveling across the country.

What I have learned this week is that God wants every part of us. He wants to be our best friend and everything that we need. He wants us to rely on Him totally, and He wants us not to fear sharing that with others. He wants us not to fear anything at all!

There is no place for fear in the Kingdom of God. We are His children, His chosen people, and He will provide for us. But, if we don't have faith in Him and try to make our own plans, we may "succeed" by our own standards but we will miss the best that He has for us. Jesus said to leave everything to follow Him. Are we willing to leave our reputations in order to tell the world about what He has done for us?

Week 11: Worldview + Thoughts, Part II: Condemnation

I wasn’t originally excited for this week, but it ended up being super instrumental in something God has been trying to show me and is still showing me today.

Monday

This week’s teacher couldn’t come, so we watched a series of videos for our lessons and then had group discussions. On Monday, the topic was what truth is, why finding the truth is important, and philosophy. It was really interesting but very intellectual and sometimes hard to follow. 

At the Monday night service, we watched a lecture on Islam and I have a much better understanding of it now. 

Tuesday

The important note about Tuesday is that there was an eclipse at 4:55 in the morning, so I got up at 4:45 to see it, but it was cloudy, and then I never got back to sleep. That’s the worst.

Wednesday

Class was awesome on Wednesday. The topic was on politics and history, two subjects that I love to hate, so at first I was dreading it. But it was wonderful. It made me realize the importance of these two subjects, and in turn the importance of everything that God has put in our lives. Politics, history, economics, art, dance, mathematics, biology, literature…everything is so amazingly important and everything has been given to us to use to the glory of God. Even if it’s a subject that we don’t understand or don’t connect with, we cannot deny its inherent importance as a part of the Earth God created. For example, everyone loves to hate math. But math is so beautiful. Math is the language of the universe, and just another way that all of creation can shout to us that God is above all. Who could make a system such as this that describes every natural phenomenon? Only God Himself could ever be that creative and understand that complexity of design. We are slowly figuring it out, but there is still so much we have to learn in the sphere of mathematics and physics. I think that’s beautiful. 

Also, each student has to give a short devotion before class, and I gave mine. I’ll paste roughly what I said here:

Today I want to share about a topic that Terry mentioned briefly last week, that God has been speaking about to me ever since: the difference between conviction and condemnation. Conviction is the work of the Holy Spirit, where He points out an area of your life that isn't going so well, and He says, "Hey, this could be better. Let's make a change and move on so we can do something cooler!" but condemnation is something that comes from Satan and sometimes ourselves, when we think, "Wow, I'm really failing in this area of my life. I'm never going to get this right. I can't change. I suck." Sometimes, when the Holy Spirit is trying to convict us of something, we take it as condemnation for ourselves. We self-condemn, and we feel like we can't change and we'll never be good enough. This can cause a lot of problems.
In John 3:17-18a, God says, "For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him. Whoever believes in Him is not condemned." Because of Christ's perfect love for us, which was Him dying for us and sacrificing Himself for us to give us grace, we don't have to have fear. We don't have to fear failure. We don't have to fear not being good enough or not measuring up, because of 1st John 4:18. Because of perfect love; God's perfect love in giving up His Son as a sacrifice for us and Christ's perfect love for us in dying for us even though He knew before He went up on the cross how often we would fail, and how much we would screw up. He knew all the awful, terrible things we would do, even after we gave our lives to Him. That is perfect love. That is the love that casts out fear. It casts out the fear that we have failed again and we can never change.
So then, the question is, what if we lived that way? What if we actually lived like there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1), and like all our past, present, and future sins were already paid for, and our condemnation, which we so truly deserve, has been taken from us? What would our lives look like?
I believe we would be much bolder. We would live truly led by the Spirit, because the fear of failure and inadequacy was nailed to a cross for us 2,000 years ago. Because Christ's perfect love for us covers all that. It makes it irrelevant. Because we are inadequate, but God covers that too.
I want to close with this: before Jesus went up on the cross, He knew we would fail today. And He died for us anyway, because He loves us that much. And I challenge us all to think about that, about the perfect love of Christ that nothing can separate us from. Not our sins. Not our failures. Not trouble, hardship, or persecution. Not famine or nakedness or danger or sword. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. And I think it's time we start living like we believe that.

And lastly, during discussion after the videos, I realized how much I’d truly changed here. I was sharing my opinion about politics and history in a group setting. I was talking easily about what I thought and felt and believed, with no anxiety at all. God is so good in showing me who He has made me to be and how to become that person.

Thursday

On Thursday we mostly learned about some other religions; we studied cults and freemasonry, which are really freaking weird and I never even knew. I think it’s really important to be informed about the other religions in the world, because through that I think God can use us more effectively in winning those people to Christ.

Friday

The main event of Friday was a Tichu (the incredible German card game that has taken over YWAM Antigua) tournament. We all randomly got a partner, and then were paired up for games. It was incredibly intense. Sadly, this tournament was never completed. We’ll just pretend that Ashley and I won.

Saturday

Saturday was wonderfully busy. I got up really early to help Kalissa make quiche for breakfast, and then she and I went to the grocery store to pick up some things, because on Saturday we celebrated Thanksgiving! After breakfast, at which Tom was joking around and calling me “the enemy” due to the aforementioned Tichu tournament, I spent most of the rest of the day trying to prank him, by doing things such as hanging his shoes from the roof and hacking into his Facebook to change his language settings to Pirate and his picture to a silly one of him I had on my computer. The funniest part was the Pirate language, because he could tell it was English but still couldn’t understand it. (Tom is the German, so English is his second language.) After dinner, we made peace and hung out for most of the rest of the evening. It was a really good day.

Sunday

No surviving journal entry for Sunday, but we can probably assume that it was exactly like every other Sunday I’ve blogged about here.

Thoughts, Part I: Complacency

Lately, I’ve had a few questions.

Primarily, why is it so difficult to live a life worthy of saying that we follow Christ?

Why is “radical” not the norm, if it’s just the bare minimum that Jesus asked us to give?

Why can we post to our Facebooks and Twitters how grateful we are for His sacrifice for us if we aren’t willing to show it by sacrificing our morning coffee to give $5 to the poor or to the world missions effort? 

He sacrificed His life for the salvation of millions of people who would never accept Him; we’re self-pleased for a week or more when we sacrifice an hour of our Saturday to volunteer at a homeless shelter.

Why is that?

Why is it that we know the overarching meaning and purpose of life and yet we refuse to live like it?

Why are we content to have our nine-to-five office jobs when we know that people will die today having never heard the name “Jesus”?

How can we know that and sit back and take it? How can we be so complacent?

I ask these questions not only of the church as a whole but of myself as well.

I ask myself, “how can I so easily gossip with my friends for hours but can’t manage a 30-second prayer to my Creator about the problem, when I know that’s all it’d take to solve it?”

I ask myself, “why do I spend so much time online when in all likelihood my neighbors need me to go talk to them about the love of Jesus?”

I don’t have any answers to these questions, but what I do know is that the Bible says that although we aren’t by any means saved by our works, if we are truly saved it will be evident in our lives. What does this say about us? How many of us, if observed by an outsider, would be called followers of Jesus? How many of us truly live like we understand the gravity of what Jesus has done for us?

I wonder if part of the problem lies in our misconception of God. If any of us truly, deeply understood the things He says about Himself in His Word, I think we would act a lot differently.

If we understood deep in our hearts that prayer is literally running into the throne room of the Creator of the universe to sit on His lap and talk to our Heavenly Father and listen to His perfect wisdom for us…it would be hard for us to get up from our prayer time, not hard to get around to it in the first place.

If we really grasped that Jesus died for us with full knowledge of every sin we would ever commit against Him, every time we would slander Him or ignore Him or turn from Him, and He still loved us enough to give His life for us, knowing that so many people would never accept Him…it would be difficult not to sing praises and shout thanks to Him at every moment; not difficult to sit through the entire worship service on Sunday morning.

What I’m saying is that to accept Jesus as our Savior, to truly give our lives to Him means just that: to give our lives to Him. That was the only stipulation of receiving salvation; we have to “leave everything and follow Him.” How many of us have done that? How many of us are willing to do it? What would our lives look like if we actually tried it? And the most important question: will we?