His love is solid

Upon finally gathering my thoughts and at least attempting to put the main points of Puerto Rico into words, I can finally move on with the more specific, in-depth lessons that the Father graciously engraved into my mind and heart.  I hope you all faithful readers have been sitting in the same position as when I last left you, constantly refreshing the page in hopes of a promised update.

Yeah, right........

Oh, this post might blow your mind.  Because what I am about to explain blew my mind.  But hey, that's how God works.  Just a warning.

I talked a little about the spiritual warfare that I experienced in Puerto Rico throughout the week and how, by Saturday, I could clearly see that God was triumphant and that He fought on my behalf to demolish any seeds of doubt that the devil tried to plant in my mind.  Why did God fight for me?  He loves me.

No, really.  He loves you, too.  And I have proof.  Well, I always have proof and so do you, but this is really humorous and funny and just down right awesome proof.  And it's proof of how cool God is.  Let me just explain.

Our camp was stationed right on the beach.  We could literally walk about 30 seconds down to the beach, which made for great hammocking and relaxation and even greater quiet times with God.

On Saturday, after a long week of work and war, I went out to spend some time writing in my journal and reading my bible and just praying and listening and other still and reverent things that were hard to do throughout the week (and are hard to do in the busyness of life, if you want to draw a correlation) before we headed off to the Puerto Rican rain forest.  I really needed this time, I mean, I really needed it.  My mind had been so chaotic and the week had been so busy yet wonderful, but it was so refreshing to sit out by the beach and just pour out my heart to God.  And so I did just that.

As I look back and read what I had written that morning, a lot of it is screaming things like, "I want more!" and "My heart yearns for You!" and "Do not stop!" and the like.  I remember feeling so overwhelmed at the strength that God had provided me that week and everything that He had done and the conversations He led me to have with people that I was dumbfounded at the fact that I could even sit in that place and look at the beautiful waves and have a one-on-one, intimate conversation with the Creator of all things and just to be given that--Wow, talk about undeserving.  He had given me enough already!

I was pounded with the realization of blessings in that one instant and it overwhelmed me.  Sometimes I feel like I use the word overwhelmed too much, but then I realize that "overwhelmed" usually means to the point beyond words so that explains that.

Wow, my stream of consciousness is in high gear today!  I am overwhelmed...

Getting to the point, I finished up my quiet time with a refreshed heart and eager emotions to go jump off of cliffs with God (literally), to go on adventures with Him, and to continue throughout the day what God had started in me that morning.  I decided I probably needed to wind down before I hit the public scene and started conversing with others because I was still a bit filled at that point and would have probably been a blubbering mess if I would have went straight to human interaction.  Well, that was unavoidable.

I started to take a stroll down the beach to attempt to gather myself and at least tone down the goofy grin on my face and, I KID YOU NOT, the first thing I saw was this rock.  Oh, but it was not just any rock.  This rock is shaped EXACTLY like a heart--no dispute.

Immediately, I picked that rock up and I honestly and sincerely and obliviously looked around--up, down, left, right--because I was certain that God had to be somewhere around there.  He had to be.  And He was.

Needless to say, I was a mess.

My emotions are not word-worthy.  I was overwhelmed.  I couldn't use words and I couldn't stop smiling and I couldn't stop thinking about how much God loved me.  And I still can't.

I showed that rock off that day--I showed off God's love!  Isn't that what we are supposed to do?  And how can we not, with all that He has given us?

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him.  -1 John 3:1

I know what you're thinking, I definitely look like a child in that picture.

I take that rock with me everywhere.  I mean, it is straight from the Lord.  There were a ton of rocks on that beach; it is no coincidence that I stumbled upon that one.  He gave it to me, he carved it out in that shape with His own two hands.  Why?  Because He loves me.  All the time, when I fail, when I mess up, when I don't love Him back, when I am disobedient, when I feel near to Him, when I heed His call, when I bear fruit, when I ignore Him, when I deserve it least.  His love is solid.

I didn't even get to the cliff diving part, or the K-mart part, or the glowing bay part.  Oh well.  God pretty much redirected this post.  But He has rights to do so.

1 Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; 

let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. 

2 Let us come before him with thanksgiving

  and extol him with music and song. 

3 For the LORD is the great God,  

 the great King above all gods. 

4 In his hand are the depths of the earth,  

 and the mountain peaks belong to him. 

5 The sea is his, for he made it,  

 and his hands formed the dry land. 

6 Come, let us bow down in worship,  

 let us kneel before the LORD our Maker; 

7 for he is our God  and we are the people 

of his pasture, the flock under his care.

-Psalm 95:1-7

Post-Puerto Rico

Well, I have been trying to write about my trip to Puerto Rico for about a week.  But, I am telling you, this is tough stuff.  There is so much that I want to say, and my thoughts are still rather mushy and haven't completely slowed down yet.  I know, it has been a week and a half.  Either I have issues or it is the Holy Spirit. Or a combination of both...

I have been writing in my journal all sorts of words from the Lord and letters to the Lord and lessons and diagrams (?) and the like that all stem from my experiences in Juana Diaz, Puerto Rico.  But when I sit down and try to write a Tear Down the Walls post on everything that happened, I always fall into this whirlwind of questions:  What if I forget something?  Should I be more surfacey or more deep?  What do I emphasize, what do I leave out, should I mention people's names, should I add pictures, is writing about what kind of madness comes to my head when thinking about what to write really relevant...

????????????????

Finally I just had to pull an old hand-slap-to-the-forehead and say, "Lou, just let God write and go with it."

Don't act like you all don't talk to yourselves!

Anyway, after numerous prayers for simplicity and stillness of mind, alas.  Here goes everything...

I think my favorite part about what God did in Puerto Rico is that it's not over.  It is still going on.  I have established relationships with people that I never could have imagined or planned or anything.  The youth group I went with consists of a bunch of beautiful young people hungry for more of the word and it is so noticeable and so incredible.  They have challenged me and encouraged me and even just the sole ability to witness God at work in their lives throughout Puerto Rico (and currently) is a privilege that I cannot bring myself to take lightly.  Thanks be to Him!  All glory be to Him!

As far as tangibility goes (I don't know if that word fits here, but I really wanted to use it), I was placed on a work crew with one other man from Elizabeth Baptist (the church I went with), three other adults, and eight college students.  My crew members came from all over the southeast, except for one girl who acted as our translator.  The local church in Puerto Rico is partnered with World Changers, so its youth come every week, are assigned a crew just like the rest of us, go to worship with us, and even stay at the same camp as us.  The Puerto Rican church--El Mesias--were surely a blessing in that they knew their way around the city, helped guide us in how to handle the incredibly crazy driving on the incredibly small roads, and translated for us so that we could still converse with the locals.

My crew was assigned the task of building a modest house.  I liked the extremeness.  You know, just building a house in Puerto Rico.  No big deal.  The house already had a concrete foundation, but the wooden frame had become irreversibly worn and its days were over.

Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord guards the city, the guard keeps watch in vain. -Psalm 127:1


And so, the work week began...

BEFORE

AFTER

Another crew came in the week after to put the roof on.   However, I was pretty impressed with ourselves.  We had one hard-working crew, yet we were still able to crack jokes and have fun.  We even had some rather deep conversations, the concepts of which will indefinitely show up in a future post. So, stay tuned.As I had mentioned in my last post before I left for Puerto Rico, I was filled with a hope that was unlike any hope that I had ever experienced before. And, my brothers and sisters, this hope was not hasty. This hope was solid, its purpose was fulfilled in Puerto Rico, and it is still present....but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. -Isaiah 40:31Oh, how I needed that strength.  If there is one huge thing that God taught me (which really there are like 2378329734), it's that with shields of hope comes major arrows of doubt .  I am not sure if I have ever experienced spiritual warfare like that before.  My goodness, it was so intense.  The devil was surely using everything possible to try to shake the hope that God had instilled in me.  My God is a rock.  He fought for me, and He fought hard.  Towards the end of the week I was so awestruck at the fact that God had completely demolished the devil's attempts at making me doubt and while I did stumble throughout the week, toward the end I remember feeling so completely victorious and overwhelmed at the triumph over Satan that my God had accomplished.  It was humbling and encouraging to experience God's strength in such a noticeable way.That topic could serve as it's own post, and it will.On the last day, we got to venture into a Puerto Rico rain forest and jump off of cliffs.  Into water.  Talk about insane.  I am going to save our free day for another post.  Because even though it was an off day, God was not off.  I learned so much that day that I think my fingers are getting tingly at the thought of getting to write about it.

Worship will get its own post, too.  And so will The Power of a Story (yes, I have already thought of the title), which is pretty much the umbrella of everything I learned in Puerto Rico...  You can stand under it, too!

I feel a song coming on...

But really, that is the main surfacy gist with a little bit of deepness about what went down in Puerto Rico.  More specific posts are to come.  To avoid the risk of making this post any longer, I will stop here with hopes that you are sitting on the edge of your seat bursting with anticipation and suspense about what is to come.

^I am pretty sure this post has an unexpected, correlating metaphor toward the end...  I love hope.

LMB

Countdowns are for lovers

Only 6 days left until I venture off to Puerto Rico for a week.  Why, you may ask?  To share the love of Christ, of course!  I'm going on a mission trip with a friend of mine's church, and how grateful I am to have the privilege of accompanying them.  There are about 40 youth going, I believe, along with a handful of chaperones.  We will be joining a group of roughly 130 other youth and adults if I am not mistaken.   It is set up through the organization World Changers, if you are indeed a web surfer.

I am an awkward non-youth/non-chap, and I am okay with that.

This post is bound to have little direction or clarity.  I am excited, so do not hold happy feelings against me.  Have a heart!  And a sense of humor...

I have been on 6 other mission trips in the past to various locations: Alabama, Kentucky, Canada, Georgia, and Chicago twice.  I am so excited to be heading a completely different direction with a completely different culture.  This trip is feeling rather special to me.  It kind of fell out of the sky, but not like the completely whimsical, careless fall from the sky that has little prayer basis.  It is more of a gift from God that kind of landed on my front doorstep, floating in slow motion (maybe in a cute little basket with a little parachute attached to it) until it was perfectly placed at the perfect time. And my front door at home has a porch covering over it.  So that God is pretty skilled, I must say.

Also, this is my first mission trip as a college student.  I have only been through one year of college, but God has taught me so much in that one year that it is one of those thoughts that requires extra effort to even attempt to sort out, and if I try to do it in one sitting, my brain fries.  It sizzles, my friends.  But those are the thoughts that I know I will be sorting out the rest of my life, those lessons I learned for reasons to be revealed in the year 2024.  I like those kinds of brain-sizzling thoughts.

I have changed a lot too.  Well, God has shaped me.  Numerous posts in the past reveal this slow transformation, this triumphal procession.  I am still intrigued by the concept of passion right now (I think it has something to do with reading Paul's letters in my quiet time for the past month or so), and how my passion has... become passion.  How my passion has originated and cultivated and accentuated and other words that end with -ated.

Passion is passion when it's all you think about.  God and everything that comes with Him...He has filled my thoughts.

Ever thought about what "comes with" God?  Interesting.  Perhaps I will save that for another post...

Let heaven fill your thoughts.  Do not think only about things down here on earth.  -Colossians 3:2

My thoughts are filled with this trip.  With what is going to happen.  With how I am going to present the gospel.  With what God is doing, what He will and can do, how much He loves those people I have yet to meet and yet with His perfect timing, we will cross paths.  We will cross paths and they will forever be crossed.  With the relationships I can establish.  With how I can be prepping in constant prayer and meditation for the trip.  With the agony and suffering I should share for the needy people of Juana Diaz, Puerto Rico.  With the lost and broken, struggling to find the right way because they do not look toward the only way.  With how I can be hollow.  With how I can rejoice.  With excitement and passion and joy and praise to the Maker of thoughts themselves.

With the Father who is over it all.  With the Father who is the Father of all people.

In this new life, it doesn’t matter if you are a Jew or a Gentile, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbaric, uncivilized, slave, or free. Christ is all that matters, and he lives in all of us. -Colossians 3:11

 

I am in love with these thoughts.  I am in love with the Originator, Cultivator, Accenuator. 

6 days.  Countdowns are for lovers.

LMB

Hallowed be thy name; hollowed be thy servant

I wrote on fullness a few days back, so it is only fitting that I write on emptiness.  I do not know why I wrote on a different topic in between.  I guess I was passionate about passion with a passionately passionate passion.

Oh yeah.  I'm in that kind of mood.

I have been wanting to write about being empty for a long time, so I am relieved that I can finally organize these thoughts in my head.  Or at least try to.  God has really been teaching me about being empty.  I guess you could say that I am so full of emptiness, I have to let it out now.

Irony, for the win.

I know it has taken me longer than usual to get serious, but here it goes.  As followers of Christ, we are to be empty.  Now, do not use the word "empty" loosely, for if we are empty of Christ...yeah, that is not good!  When I speak of being empty in this post, I mean only of being empty of the world and all that comes with it.  I mean being empty of our prideful selves.  I mean being empty of everything that is not the Everything.

Humility is not easy, nor is it ever a finished process.  You will never get a polished trophy for humility.  I once read a quote that I am struggling to find via Google that said something along the lines of, "The moment a man says he is humble, he is not."  Pride could be its own post (actually, it has been), and is an issue that I contemplate over frequently, because I admittedly struggle with it frequently.  Pride is engraved into me.  My head is big.

Thank goodness, God is bigger.

I fill myself up with the world and the things I cherish and the jokes I make and the people I help and the prayers I say and the friends I make and the smiles I form and the hugs I give and the difference I think I make and the words I write and the wisdom I believe I possess and the diving catch I make and the little kid I keep from crying and the grades I make and the people who wave as they pass by me and the leadership positions I hold and the conversations I have and everything else that is mine that is not mine in the first place.

Yes, that is a vulnerable (and extremely long) sentence.  But if we are not willing to admit our pride, how will we recognize it?  How can we ask God to remove what we don't think we have?  How can we pray to God to empty us of the very things keeping us from filling ourselves with Him if we avoid them or look straight through them or leave them to collect dust.

Dust adds up.  It takes up space.  Little by little...

I like to visualize.  It helps me.  Well, really, God does a pretty beautiful job of painting pictures in my head.  I pray this prayer, and at the risk of sounding like a therapist or a meditation instructor, I ask of you to try it:

(Oh and a note, this prayer is a lot more meaningful if done from the knees or bowing position.  The symbolic act of becoming as lowly as possible makes it more intimate.  At least it does to me.)

I picture myself, in bodily form.  I ask God to hollow me (emphasis on the word hollow).  I picture my body, my arms and legs, my entire being, hollowed.  Everything that is enclosed in my skin--gone.  "Hollow me, hollow me so that I may have more room for You."  That is what I ask.

I can almost feel the flush of my inner organs.  I can almost hear the sound of the emptiness inside of me, the soundwaves bouncing from side to side, like the echos of a cave, like the ting of a metal pipe when you flick it with your finger.  That's how empty I want to be.  I want to be hollow.  I want Him to dig out every pound of dirt that fills my body.  By the shovelful.  I picture my skin, my entire body filled with dirt and just maybe God is driving the bulldozer with a yellow construction hat on His head or maybe that is rather childish.  I am His child, though...

I want to feel my own blood burst out of my veins and I want the blood He shed on the cross to fill them instead.  Oh, how He will fill me!  My bones, my blood, my being!  I want Him to be packed into me, tighter than brown sugar in a plastic measuring cup, tighter than the one suitcase you can take to New York in the winter, with big heavy coats that take up a lot of room, the kind you (and three other family members) have to sit on to zip up.  I want the fullness of God to stretch my skin, to leave no room, no air bubbles.  First, I must become hollow.

I want to be hollow so that I may be full.

This prayer does not "make" you humble.  It does make you constantly more aware of your pride, more prayerful about demolishing it, and more passionate over He who is most humble, He who is most exalted.

And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. -Philippians 2:8-11

Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.  -Matthew 23:12

Hollow me of this earth and fill me up with You.

LMB

On passion

Wanna hear something really cool?  My alma mater, Crest High, is back in the softball state championship final four this weekend in Raleigh!  I was part of the team that made it last year.  We fought all the way to the championship game, and came up short.  Man, some of the best memories of my entire life come from the ball field with that team.

If you are not a sports fan, do not stop reading!  This is going somewhere, I promise. (hopefully)

Wanna hear something even cooler?  This totally correlates with an aspect of my spiritual life as a Christ follower.  God has really used this exciting time for Crest Softball, and the community of Shelby in general, to make me think a lot.  And for some reason everything I have been reading in my quiet times and discussing with fellow brothers and sisters has to do with this one little correlation.  Well, it's not very little.  I feel like God goes by the "go big or go home" rule.

Now that I am not playing, I am watching.  I am watching about seven or so of my favorite girls on this earth play their hearts out for a state championship.  I am seeing pure joy, devotion, endurance, and support.  I am seeing it all laid out on the field.  That was me last year.  And now, I get to see it from a totally different perspective.  I get to watch my little sisters fight their hearts out, because I know they will.

You know, the Lord has placed us, the body of Christ, in all different places at all different times.  He just wants us to share the power of the gospel--wherever we may be.  He wants us to go big or go home.  He wants to see pure joy, devotion, endurance, and support in the lives of His followers.  We are the body.  And even when one of us is on the bleachers, and the other is on the actual field, we are still the body.  And so, let the bleachers be the new field, if that's where He leads us.

On Saturday, the girls played the game to make it to Raleigh, and they won with an 8-inning comeback against a very talented team (I am now a softball enthusiast/analyst.  If I cannot play, I might as well do everything with it that I am capable.)  Let me just tell you, it is a lot different watching.  I was so nervous at this game.  I'm talking can't talk to anyone around me, chew the chicle out of my gum nervous.  I could not do anything in my power on that field.  I was not there.  That is not where I was placed.  My field was somewhere else.  But my goodness!  Did I want those girls to win.  My passion for them to win was intriguing me, or almost convicting me.  And so I did the only thing I knew to do--I prayed.

I prayed for every girl as she came up to bat.  I prayed for peace and limited nervousness and teamwork within and between the girls.  I know it sounds silly, and so be it, but I prayed.

When I thought back to that instance and how it portrayed God's sense of humor in what He compels the follower to do, I thought about my passion.  Why is it that my passion for winning a simple softball game, whether I am actually playing or someone else is, is at a glance so much greater than my passion for the kingdom.  Imagine what could happen if I had enough passion for the kingdom of God as I did for winning a ball game that will never matter in eternity.  All of us.  We all stand and cheer and get angry when the officials make terrible calls and laugh together and work hard together and buy each other hotdogs and high five each other and share so much joy--and pain--together.

^The above are metaphors, in case you didn't catch that.
^And that was a pun, in case you didn't catch that either.

But seriously!  If we used that energy to go out together as the body of Christ to share the gospel, to beat Satan and his dark forces, to listen to our Coach and do whatever he calls us to do, there is no telling what He could accomplish through us.

If I prayed for my brothers and sisters, a lot of whom are all over the world this summer, like I did on those bleachers, the results are unsearchable.  I may not be on their field, but I should be passionate for them with a Godly passion.  Where is our passion?  Where is my passion?

That is what I love so much about Paul.  His passion for the people is astounding (and convicting).  Every one of his books talks about how much he prays for and genuinely loves certain people groups.  He may not be on their field, but sure is passionate for them to win.

9 For this reason, since the day we heard about you, we have not stopped praying for you. We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, 10 so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, 11 being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, 12 and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light. -1 Colossians 1:9-12

I encourage you to start praying for that passion, that burning that causes you to do unlikely things, pray unlikely prayers, and befriend unlikely people.  Without passion, we are just going through motions.  We have no substance, no motivation, no reason.  Without passion we have no... anything.  He is our passion.  And without Him, we easily have nothing.

LMB

On fullness

Here lately, I have been intrigued by the contrast of emptiness and fullness.  Both words are extremes in my mind, and to me, their comparison is more like a war.  Now, please note that this post is not about the fullness, or sometimes known as "spiritual obesity," of the stagnant Christian.  My words are aimed at pondering over the fullness of Christ and its effects on us, not the fullness of us and its effects on our fruit.  I know I am starting this post out strong, without a witty and inevitably hilarious (and humble) introduction.  But this topic is just too full of things to cover.

Okay, I did have room for one small pun...

Back to seriousness.  God has really been showing me the difference between what it means to be full and, less desirably, what it means to be empty.  It's a feeling thing, really.  And when I say that God has been showing me this lately, I now look back and realize that He has spent pretty much the past five years of my life showing me this.  I can specifically look back on certain circumstances in my life where I felt so empty.  But, praise to the Lord Almighty, I can also look back and feel the fullness of God; I can feel it when I just think about it.  It's like my blood thickens as my memory churns.  It's like my pores are seeping the mist of the Spirit, because it cannot be contained in such a small enclosure as one tiny human body.

I like those memories. Why do we forget!

When I think about the fullness of God, I cannot help but get caught up over the word fullness itself.  The word fullness means that there are no pieces missing, there are no hollow spaces, no air bubbles, no elbow room.  The fullness of God means that there is absolutely no way anything else can appropriately fit anywhere in God's place.  There is no room in that inn.

There is a quote by Blaise Pascal that I have heard many times, and it is always a favorite of mine:

“There is a God shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus.”

I have worked with children at the YMCA for the past three years, so when I read this quote, I always think about those little plastic boxes with holes of different shapes--circles, rectangles, stars, ovals, etc.--and the accompanying plastic shapes that you put inside of the box.  Only the correct shape will fit in the hole.  You cannot put a rectangle in a circular hole.

You cannot put a best friend in the vacuum of your heart where only God fits.  You cannot put a boyfriend/girlfriend in the vacuum of your heart where only God fits.  You cannot put a church activity in the vacuum of your heart where only God fits.  You cannot put a sport in the vacuum of your heart where only God fits.  You can only put God where God fits.

I have never done well with transition periods.  Coming back home it has taken me until probably today to become adjusted to being in Shelby for the summer.  It has taken many prayers and many smacks on the head (metaphorically speaking) for me to become content with my current stage of life.  I keep hearing God say,

Your days can never be empty when they are full of Me.

That is one of the most comforting things God has ever told me, and I don't even deserve to hear it.  Prayers for emptiness concerning the world and the desires it brings and prayers for dependency and humility before God the Father are a necessity.  Even the best thing God has given me on this earth is not enough, it's never enough.  Even the people I love the most can never bring me satisfaction. When I try to shove them into the God-shaped hole in my heart, they don't fit; they only leave me empty.

For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and in Christ you have been brought to fullness. He is the head over every power and authority. -Colossians 2:9-10

and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. -Ephesians 3:19

"If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude that I was not made for here." -C.S. Lewis

Let His fullness fill your emptiness.

LMB

Why do we forget

I have been wanting to write about this question for quite some time now, but the shift of events in my life has been keeping my mind occupied.  I have been home from school for about a week, and let me tell you, this is not easy.  I mean, who knew having free time was so difficult?

Before I start to talk about me (I can already feel it coming) let me change the subject to discuss who this post should be about.

He has blessed me beyond words.  Part of the reason that I have not been able to write is because my mind cannot contain all that He has done for me.  He has changed me so much this past year.  He has carried out His plan.  He has successfully placed me exactly where I am supposed to be.  As if I should have expected anything less.

God has been so good to me.  I look around now at all of these seniors about to graduate from high school and I remember where I was then just one year ago.  I remember how I felt and where I stood with God.  I remember it being the most inwardly-fighting emotions that I had ever experienced up to that point.  I was so excited about graduating high school and even going to college, but nervousness was always pinching my skin--sometimes just enough for me to feel it, sometimes overcoming my ability to think straight.  I was not going to put on a front.  I was nervous.

And now, here I am.  I could never be more joyful in the Lord.  I have finished my freshman year and the crazy thing about it is that when I look back on my year (besides the fact that I am overwhelmed) I do not really think about my grades, my accomplishments, or even my friends.  I think about how I could have never expected to be in the place with God that I am now.

And I said I wasn't going to talk about me...

The thing about my freshman year is that it is over.  And now I am here at home, after months of praying for my summer, somewhere to go, some ministry organization under which to serve, here I am.  Home.

I believe that there should be PTPSD...Post-Triumphal-Procession-Stress-Disorder  (coming from my favorite verse 2 Corinthians 2:14, of course).  I have been sent from a city on a hill to the foot of it (seriously, I live in the foothills), left only to gaze at where I came from with wishful thinking of returning.  I know in my head that this is where God wants me to be.  I know that He has great things planned for me.  I know that I can experience God here just like I did this past year in Raleigh.  But sometimes, it seems like I... forget.

I forget the broken people walking beside me.  I forget that His love has never left me.  I forget that I am nothing.  I forget that I do not have the strength to do things on my own.  I forget that I have felt God here before.  I forget that He has a plan.  I forget that even the prettiest flowers grow in the blackest soil.  I forget that this world means nothing.  I forget that He holds me in His hands.

I forget how joyful He makes me.  I forget how He turns my sadness into happiness.  I forget how free He has made me feel.  I forget how I laugh with Him.  I forget how sorrow never lasts.  I forget how I long to worship Him, how I thirst for Him.  I forget how much love I feel from Him.

I forget about my family.  I forget about the roof under which I live. I forget about the food I eat, the clothes I wear.  I forget about the water I drink, oh, how clean it is.  I forget about the keyboard each forgotten finger is currently stroking.  I forget about the things in life I do not need, but have.  I forget about the One I have, how He is all I need.

I forget about the cross.  I forget about the grace.  I forget about the blood, the tears, the plan, oh, the perfect plan.  I forget about the life I was given through His death.  I forget about the resurrection.  I forget that He is coming back.  I forget about Him.

The instance I am placed into a different atmosphere, I forget that He is stable.  The minute I am uncertain about my future, I forget that He already knows it.  The moment even one little thing shows the slightest hint of falling out of place, I forget.

And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” Luke 22:19

Jesus commands us to remember.  The relationship we can have with Him is so much more powerful than even the worst thing that could ever happen.  Why let emotions overtake us when we have a God who can overwhelm us?

How differently we would live if we woke up every morning, awestruck to our knees at the fact that we woke up.

And here we are now.

Imagine how life would be if we remembered.

LMB