Hope

Gravity is not a feeling, but the heaviness is always the same. The weight of doubt and the doubt of waiting for what lies ahead looms over my head like a dark cloud crowding in to clutter up the coming forecast of fading, curtailed clarity. I'm deep inside a well of opportunity as well as a steep, shadowy quicksand valley; it all depends on perspective, really. If I don't move, I know I'll keep on sinking. If I do make a move, I either come up on top or I sink deeper still. Sleep and chill or take the red pill. Follow the herd and your sheep get killed. This is what I call a quarter life crisis. You realize you don't fully know what your life is. You realize you've been living off quarters not benjamins. You realize there's been no changes and all you've been saying is, "Don't cry sis." There is definitely more than this.

If the end is clear then the means are clearer. If the means are not clear then I know my end is unclear. In other words, if I'm running a race and I clearly see the finish line before me, the way I get there will be clear. But if the finish line is hidden from view or too blurry in the distance, the path I take will be full of zigzags, uncertain choices, staying in place for too long, waiting on the wrong things and wrong people, and ultimately "pressing on" to no avail. In further words, if the hope of heaven and Christ in me, the hope of glory, is not heavily and completely impacting the way I live on earth, then I must admit and acknowledge that I have not fully grasped what it means to hope in Christ as a citizen of heaven. A "hope" of heaven that does not affect the everyday life on earth is merely a excuse to escape the realities of said life on earth. This kind of false hope gets me stuck. I get stuck doing things, even in, no, especially in a ministry setting, that portray the false "hope" - always running, but never leading; always turning, but never changing.

Hope without action is no hope at all. The kind of biblical hope that I'm looking to is not a personal wish or a whim. It is an expectation and a trust in Him. It is an "already."

Be my everything... once again.

Undignified

I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes.

What are we dancing to, lifting our hands to, closing our eyes to, singing passionately to? Sometimes I feel like we're worshiping worship itself. It's like, "Who cares if God hears us or not? The show must go on." So what if the drums are missing? What if the singer is tone deaf? What if the sound system breaks? What if there are no instruments? What if there is no stage? no microphone? no lyrics? no hands? no feet? Could we still worship in spirit and in truth? Would God still be pleased?

Worshiping with songs is one thing, but what happens when the music stops, and the retreats and mission trips end? Can we be undignified in other areas of life or are we only called to be "abandoned" to God in praise?

I wonder what it means to be undignified in reading God's Word. Undignified in sharing God's Word. Undignified in talking about Jesus. Undignified in talking with a friend. Undignified in watching a movie. Undignified in a family meal. Undignified in a midterm exam. Undignified in heavy traffic. Undignified online. Undignified in the workplace. Undignified in everything.

Or if that's too much or too radical to think about, we can just play some chords, do some fancy double strums, roll a pretty fill-in, sing a perfect harmony, do an awesome offering song, perform a touching skit, chit chat in small groups, volunteer for all the conferences and mission trips, and call it a day.

And we get surprised when God actually does show up.

Hungry

You say you're hungry for God.

I believe you. I really do.

But

You've fed yourself the world

and filled yourself with lies

instead of being fed up with the world

and filled up with the Word.

You simply cannot take it in.

You really have no excuse.