In n Out

I was shivering in my basketball shorts and from the cooled sweat from my drenched t-shirt. The La Crescenta night breeze was refreshing and cool while running on the courts, but now at the outdoor benches of the restaurant it was getting chilly. It didn't help that I was sipping on ice cold pink lemonade. There was the usual small talk when dealing with a stranger, but all I could do was wait for someone to lose. I was stuck. Then the old man with the potty mouth asked, "You know Acts 2:38?" I was surprised at first that this unkempt, rancid, chess infatuated old man would recite a bible verse. Then I was disappointed at myself... "No."

"You got a bible on you? Where's your bible? You said you're going to seminary aren't ya? Maybe you can learn something tonight."

I didn't. I had left my bible at home after church that evening, but my pride took me to the small parking lot. I searched my car in panic and luckily found a Gideon pocket bible (which I didn't know I had) at the bottom of the middle compartment under all the trash and old receipts. "Holy Spirit, please give me wisdom." I took it back to the outdoor tables and the old man, focused on the game and without even a glance in my direction, said, "Read it out loud, nice and clear." He stopped me at Jesus Christ as he slammed down his rook to capture my friend's bishop. "hah!"

He turned to me, "Pastors are liars. You don't get baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit. You get baptized only in the name of Jesus Christ. Try telling your pastor that. Lost for words I tell ya. Don't worry kiddo it took me 30 years to figure that one out."

what?

Then he went on to talk about how he goes to an apostolic church and that they got the real deal - a real choir, and a real organ - not the fake worship with phony instruments. His response to my stuttering defense (full of 'well's and 'I think's) for the heart of worship was, "No no no no. Don't give me that."

what?

all I need to say is "Jesus Christ" right? all I need to recite is John 3:16 right? what the funnel cake do I say to all of that nonsense?

Checkmate. I sat in silence until the old man overtook my friend's king. We parted ways and went home, and in my state of defeat, only one thing was running through my head- WORD.

Read the WORD. Know the WORD.

"Preach the Word; be prepared IN season and OUT of season; correct, rebuke and encourage - with great patience and careful instruction."

2 Timothy 4:2

It wasn't mere coincidence that God humbled me at In n Out.

The season is right. The season is now.

Seeking

Vibrissae

This entry is rated M for Mucus.

Two days ago, I cut some nose hairs (like.. not a lot) because they were getting unruly and getting too excited whenever I smile real loud (and because I can never man up and just pluck 'em out, tear*). One hair in particular was about 1.5 centimeters long and as thick as a single bristle of a toothbrush. No, I did not measure it. 1.5 is just a good number.

Yesterday, I was sneezing like a panda. It was not the infectious kind since I have no cold, but the allergy kind where one sneeze opens the floodgates of the Ol' Factory Dam and costs 2 tissues (re)used wisely or about 7-8 squares of toilet paper.

Speaking of paper (and unexpected messes), I read in the news the other day about Egypt and her hasty solution to swine flu:

When the government killed all the pigs in Egypt this spring — in what public health experts said was a misguided attempt to combat swine flu — it was warned the city would be overwhelmed with trash.

The pigs used to eat tons of organic waste. Now the pigs are gone and the rotting food piles up on the streets of middle-class neighborhoods like Heliopolis and in the poor streets of communities like Imbaba.

What seems like a quick solution leads to yet another problem. I want to say "Hah! Serves you right!" but I would be pointing at myself. It's like taking pain killers for wounds that kill instead of running to a Doctor for healing. For wounds internal. For wounds invisible. Don't go for the quick fixes that never satisfy because true satisfaction is eternal. Holla~ "We want Jesus!"

"We want Jesus!"

Today I won't be picking my boogers (at least not in public). They are my last line of defense... the first, my windows...

ashes, ashes, we all fall...

ACHOOO!

... aftereffect - the true reason for my allergic reactions was due to the dormant ashes picked up by the winds that started up yesterday. Last night our house was covered in ashes and the kitchen floor was ashy and the culprit was Ash. (funny: 1.5/10). Even with the fires put out in our mountains in LCr, the ashes are still left to do airborne damage on top of the actual burn of fire damage. This is what you call consequence.

Sin and its consequence. PR6:27.28 "Can a man scoop fire into his lap without his clothes being burned? Can a man walk on hot coals without his feet being scorched?"

Hot dam~ Our own ashes from past mistakes may linger around, we may even have winds of circumstances that poke at our scars, but we must not be disheartened or downtrodden because God is the lifter of our heads. He is faithful and just. The day is coming when He will clear the air and we will breathe a new heaven and new earth. So look to Jesus and put faith only in Him who took on the heap of ashes and the ultimate Consequence of sin for you and for me.

"For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

EPHESIANS TWO! EPHESIANS TWO! EPHESIANS TWO! EPHESIANS TWO!

^, ,^

Nose hair 540 to Gospel 316!!!

Wow. That's a first.

Sharing is Loving 2

"What would my Father in heaven say of me?" not "What would people think of me?"

We say with our mouths that God's mission is to seek and save the lost, but in our actions we keep hiding the lost from a faith that Jesus calls child-like. We go on and on about the rules and regulations of "hide n seek" when God simply says He will seek those who are lost and hidden. By the end of the foreword to the gospel message, salvation in Jesus Christ becomes merely an academic exercise that only the top scholars and instructors and scribes can share due to their knowledge and expertise and experience. Then out of a sense of duty we begin to rely on our own wisdom to lead someone to the true Wisdom of God. Versions of the word turn into diversions from the enemy to create divisions in theology that lead straight to secondaries, tertiaries, all the way down to the study of the bond between bone and marrow and its relationship to God without ever thinking of moving the muscle called "faith" that leads to the Author of the Word Himself. When it finally comes time to share the Good News, we (at least among my peers) do not feel ready enough or good enough or godly enough or experienced enough, and with all the discouragement wrapped up as a gift with yellow "caution" ribbons all over it every soul treads fearfully and cowardly as we share the news that is supposed to bring about the joy of salvation. By the end of the "presentation" the curtains close and the spectators are left without a way to present themselves before a holy God. The words spoken to them are cold and textbook-like. They leave with even more doubt or worse yet, a false sense of salvation.

"Do I care?" "Do I love?"

From God. By God. In terms of experience, the apostle Paul himself began to preach the Gospel only days after his conversion. "And immediately he proclaimed Jesus in the synagogues, saying, "He is the Son of God." I am of the opinion that sharing is not a skill we can hone and master, but rather an attitude we must choose to bear. In order to share, we must have, and what we have is the power of God for salvation. Sharing is simply extending out our arms out and giving to another. Sacrifice. When we share the free gift of salvation it's about freely giving what we have freely received. And to think/say that brother/sister so and so is not fit or ready already puts us in a seat of judgment, one that requires us to be the judge (or more accurately, the doubter) of their salvation because to share means to have what you share. And to think/say that "I" am not fit or ready requires a personal scrutiny of our relationship with God that goes beyond "I think God loves me." because believe or not, Christians are called to share the Gospel. Now that sounds radical. Too extreme. Too intense. Too hardcore. Too difficult. Too much sacrifice. Too passionate. Too much time. Too not-for-me-more-for-them. Too impossible. But God reminds us it is the Holy Spirit who lives in us who gives us the conviction, the courage, and the words to go out and become true witnesses for Christ. It's not about me. It's all about Jesus. Surely God will take care of the salvation of His children.

Great conviction. Great Compassion. Great Commission. I hold on dearly to these convictions so that next time there's not a single bit of uncertainty or guilt or man's opinion that disqualifies me for the mission of leading souls to Christ, which every child in His name is called to do. I also hold on dearly to the grace and mercy that God pours out upon me as I turn to Him with a heart of repentance, knowing that God is still faithful. I have a familiar feeling this won't be the end of it, but it's high time to put down the instruction manual and start following what it says.

I took Chris back to the pastor's wife. "He's good to go!"

I thanked her and thanked God for the second chance.

Sharing is Loving

Sharing is Loving 1

"Did he accept Jesus Christ?"

That was the first thing she said to me.

And my heart was pierced and sunk to my stomach. I stared into her eyes as she wiped a tear from her cheek. I replied in hesitation. "Possibly." I looked at my student and then back at the pastor's wife and said, "Can you please give me 5 minutes?" She nodded.

I took Chris behind the basketball court away from the chaos of children in exile and began an excursion of our own into the depth of our hearts. I had my Wordless Book ready and I shared the message of salvation. He seemed familiar with the news, as if he had seen it in a church play once, but didn't know the details. When we got to the white page I asked, "Would you like to receive Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?" he nodded quietly. When we prayed together my heart was gripped with a grace that moved my convictions, making them intense to the point of sorrowful guilt then making me sense the complete freedom from a guilty conscience.

Throughout the cef children's camp none of my students raised their hand to receive Christ at the end of the message. Assumptions were high and despite my years of experience at camp I lost sight of the importance of sharing the Gospel to every single child under my care. I truly know the Gospel was preached throughout the camp and through Pastor Daniel's messages - there was no doubt in that. There was doubt, however, in whether or not each child that God entrusted to me had an opportunity to ACCEPT Jesus Christ not just hear about Him. I felt my conscience roundhouse kicking me in the head even as I thought to myself "they're all from church so they'll probably get it someday." In light of "doing it right" I left out doing it Righteous, and that's where my true convictions lied.

In the end, I know it is up to God to grow the seed we have sown. But I also know that this isn't a license to go into battle halfheartedly then come out with an applause for every soldier for the sake of phony 'feel good encouragements' and 'keeping the peace' and 'ending on good notes.' What needs to be rooted out must be rooted out - no matter how painful and destructive and unpopular it is - before it spreads, infects, and stunts not only one person's growth but also his or her brothers and sisters in Christ. I can already imagine (and know of) a child growing up with everyone around him, including himself, assuming and learning that He is saved because he went to church or he went to camp and then later realizing he was never a child of God in the first place. "I never knew you."

Hiatus

Hi...

atus.

"It's been a long time comin' up here now.
From the streets to the church - all in your ears now."

3 months. It's been 3 months of post college life. But I'll get to that later. I can describe it in full, and at the same time I can't say I know in full. It's like a puzzle. I see what the picture is on the puzzle box, but I would be lying to say I put it all together unless I connect the actual pieces.

As the words and sentences connect themselves...

Hm. I sound like I'm up in the clouds. I can feel it in my face. FYI here's a little secret: The face expression you have when you write is the feeling you will convey to the reader. (Just a small nugget of wisdom I discovered by reading what I write.) If ya don't know, now you know n. So in the first paragraph I looked all types of scholarly and high and mighty, but right now I look like a bum... J-bum... like one who is unable to take off the weights of oppression and rise above the race. H12. At the end of the day, your expression is your expression. Love or hate comes from your love or hate. You are you. Nobody else to sue. Makes it all the more hopeful and glad to be made in His view. I mean image.

Back in gear. Happy back to school! UCs are starting up this coming week, but you see, I will not be participating this time around, no, not I. This is the first September in 17 years of public education that I'm not going "back-to-school." I write this as I artfully dodge 10 pound text books and hosts of office supplies and Revelle (echo. echo. echo.) breakfast burritos and origami knives made out of class schedules and syllabi and virgin longboards launched from fort Peterson. Just a few words to all ya haterz still kickin' it old "school," if I may... na. nanana. nana. nana. canttouchthis.

It feels good and bad. Chorus is necessary. Though I am not physically going to school I still had to worry about school. After spending the majority of summer poring over the application process, I finally submitted my application to Talbot this week. Praise the Lord! It is all in His hands. (This paragraph was written with a big smile.)

Now on to the main dish. The title is a misnomer. (Yes! I finally used misnomer... always been on the look out for that one. *check* next word on the list is platitudinous). Hiatus would mean that there's been a break or gap in the process, but that is not entirely true. The writing process may have been stagnant, but the life behind the curtains has been filling the gap, so to speak. Filling the gap of this cavity. Being shaped and reshaped. Broken and remade. Molded and remodeled. JM18:4 It's amazing to know that our Father is always at work in us. J5:17. All glory to God.

This has been a trailer for more to come. Puzzle pieces are GO!

Don't blink.

Close your eyes. M6:33.