God’s been teaching me that He often blows our minds and our perspectives with what He asks of us. Essentially we have to sacrifice everything that keeps us from fully relying on God, including our definitions of God’s character or ideas of Biblical principle. We find false security in the thought, “Oh God would never ask me to do that…” Well actually, He might ask you to do anything.

I doubt that Hosea ever thought he’d be asked to marry a prostitute. I doubt that Abraham ever expected God to ask him to sacrifice his son. These men were operating on one Biblical principle: do whatever He tells you.

In my life, God’s been taking this idea even further. I’ve been meditating on the Gen 22 account of Abraham and Isaac on the mountain of Moriah, and God’s been showing me Isaac’s perspective. Isaac was willing to submit to the seeming insanity of God, even when it was asked of him by another human being. He had no special word from the Lord; he was simply submitting to his spiritual authority, coming alongside Abraham’s vision of absolute obedience, and relinquishing himself—his heart and soul and mind and strength—everything he ever thought he knew about God and his father. He laid it all down in faith, not just in God, but in another person.

I find then, that we’re asked to have faith not only in God, but sometimes in the God inside of people.

And it makes me think of God’s crazy faith and love for us. God loves everyone 100% completely all the time, and He never requires that the love is reciprocated. He sacrificed His Son for everyone’s sins even those who rejected Him. Jesus, like Isaac, sacrificed Himself, and He did so even for the sake of those He knew wouldn’t come to know Him

He’s been showing me that if I’m going to be like Christ, the same reckless faith and love will also be required of me. When He asks me to have faith and love in total abandon, my choice is to submit to the will of heaven or allow a piece of hell into my heart. There is no third option.

God showed me this morning how this crazy vulnerability really is the heart of worship. When Abraham and Isaac scale mount Moriah, Abraham tells his servants that they are going to worship the Lord. This is the first time in Scripture that the word “worship” appears. To me, it’s given a whole new meaning to Romans 12:1. Like Isaac, we’re to offer ourselves—our wisdom, our security, even our hearts and bodies—as living sacrifices. And this, this is our spiritual act of worship.

dream

I want to dare to dream as big as God dreams; to dream so big it can’t fit into the context of my life; to dream like Abraham whose legacy spans the oceans and the ages even though he only lived to see the fulfillment of a single son of promise. I want to dream without limitations, even the voice that says my dream is too small and must be bigger, the voice that says I must know the land I’m going to before I set out on my journey, the voice that says my patience is really the paralytic power of fear and complacency.

I know that my God is able to do immeasurably more than all I could ask or imagine according to the power that is at work within me. In fact, He is so unaccountably, unfathomably huge, that He cannot fit into my fallible explanation of “immeasurably more”. I want to serve a God who is bigger than my boxes, higher than my feeble attempts at understanding, greater than the longsuffering of a mere breath on the wind. I want to serve a God who is able to save but is not bound to my ideas of salvation—the where, the when, the who, or the how. I want to serve a God who heals, restores, laughs, cries, disciplines, and is not defined by the mediocrity of my unintelligent philosophizing or well-intentioned theologizing. If He isn’t kind and alarming; if He isn’t gentle and jealous; if He isn’t chaotic and messy, orderly and methodical, strange and beautiful beyond comprehension; if He isn’t revolutionary enough to defy the confines of my description of grace or powerful enough to escape my every diminishing of His terrible love, then He isn’t a God I want to serve.

This one thing I know: there is more. There is always more.

May I never forsake the riches of the kingdom for the wealth of a king. May I never confuse big for great. May I reject every temptation to do what seems good, every get-God-quick scheme, and every notion that absolute obedience might not be wacky or impossible by religious standards. I am not of this world, and neither is He. Eternal perspective. This is my dream.

Happy Purim!

If we were Jewish, we'd be getting sloshed right now.

I'm glad Talmudic law isn't a Biblical requirement.

If I walk through the disorientation of doubt like a fog of forgetfulness shrouding the way I ought to go; if I traverse the depths of hate like coals burning beneath my feet and chains binding the work of my hands; if I nap on the cushions of ignorance feigning complacency as peace and permissiveness as open-mindedness; if I gaze into the mirror of selfishness as one obsessed with the one staring back, and then, looking beyond it, discover faultlessness in the paradise of pride and failure on the seas of shame; if I dance inside the hollow of self-pity, fall from the banks of brokenness, wander the lonely wilderness, meander along the path of passivity, bow before the shrine of hypocrisy, rule the land of legalism, drink the rain of false-humility, and at the end of my journey uncover the hurtful truth: that my travels have been but the exploration of my own soul; would You still find it honest to describe me as beautiful, worthwhile to call me “beloved”, possible to etch Your name upon my hand and heart, to clothe me in the righteousness of Your Son, and to treat me as one who hasn’t betrayed You?

...

My child, do not magnify the greatness of your evil above the greatness of His sacrifice by imagining anything beyond the reach of grace. He has purchased your rejection with His blood and your adoption with His life. I AM your Abba. Like a father waiting on his child learning to walk, I don't count the times you fall. With arms stretched towards you and a silly grin on My face, I marvel at your successes and am proud to call you Mine. I provide what you don’t think to ask. I protect from harm you’ll never know. When your world falls apart, I hold you together. When you come, I come closer. When you run, I pursue. When you fall, I hold your hand. I’ve been to every game, play, recital, and graduation you’ve ever been in, laughed at every good joke you ever made, danced every victory dance with you, grieved your every loss, kept every tear you’ve ever cried, and forgotten every time you’ve needed to be forgiven. Tell Me what child has ever done anything to earn the unconditional love of their parents? Show me the parent who can articulate where the love for their child came from, and I’ll show you a parent without real love. I never actually asked you to understand it. I just asked you to accept it as the truth that makes you free. But even if you don’t, My grace is still enough, My love still has no bounds, and I will still wait for you with extended arms and a silly grin, in eager anticipation for the day when you come to a full understanding of what it really means to be redeemed.

Celebrating Singlehood

In my 23 years of perpetual singleness I don't remember doing anything depressed singles do for Valentine's Day. So, well, last week I thought I'd give it a go, and funny story: I had a TOTAL BLAST!!! On the big day, I wore all black, emo clothing to my regular, mid-week service at church. Once there I realized that being single disqualifies me from the couple's club (there weren't any couples there anyway), and being satisfied makes me an outcast in the single's club. Twice rejected, LOL. I really could care less. In truth, that service gave a whole new meaning to the term, single's-AWARENESS day, if you know what I mean. Then Friday after a laptop marathon at Starbucks, I stayed up really late watching girly movies in my pajamas and eating a bite out of every candy in a huge box of chocolates. Well... to tell the truth, I didn't see much of the movies because I was simultaneously playing Age of Empires 2. I should say DOMINATING Age of Empires 2, but I digress. On Saturday I cooked a full course meal (I'm learning how) and had a newly-married couple over for dinner. Well it was a huge success, and after desert, we discussed the joys of their being married and the harrassing anticipation of my waiting on God for Mr. Right. You know, all the things married people like to gloat about to their single friends. (BTW: can anyone tell me why it is that married people think thier status automatically puts them into the position to give advice to single people? This is a mystery to me.) Anyway, reflection on this conversation has inspired me to write out all the things I like about being single. Please feel free to comment any additions to the list. Here goes:

I only have to clean up after and cook for myself unless I choose otherwise

My mom still does my laundry

Do single people actually "entertain"? I think they just chill with their friends.

I don't have to deal with anyone else's morning breath

I have my own closet

I never forget my last name

I can take liberties with my personal hygiene that married people just shouldn't

I have my own credit rating (720 btw)

I don't have to consult anyone before buying something I want

I actually have extra money because I'm not spending it dating anyone

I could move to Asia tomorrow, Australia in 2 months, backpack through Europe before ending up in Africa, and write home or come home only when the finances run out

I never have to worry that I might smell like someone else

There's no fighting on movie night

I am at liberty to think about attractive men--in a Godly manner of course ;)

My womanly mystery is intact

I can still dream about what my future mate will be like, instead of having to deal with the sometimes harsh or annoying reality of having chosen

More time to deal with my own issues rather than "our issues"

No mother-in-law

I can wear certain styles of shirts that married woman can't wear without being threatened with accusations of pregnancy

I can hibernate monthly if necessary

I can go to lunch one-on-one with a guy friend and it's not cheating or something awkward like that

I can go to bed as early or late as I want because I own both sides of the bed

I don't have to decorate my space like a boring adult

I don't have to worry about birth control or all the crazy hormones it messes with

There's still time to lose the last bit of weight

Jesus is the first one to greet me in the morning

My first and last words of every day belong to God

God is my spiritual head and authority; let's face it, it's probably easier to trust Him directly that to trust Him via another human being

This is my favorite one:  all my affections and energies, my heart and soul, are solely His, and I don't have to share any of me with a boy