Running Scurrrrrd

I just bought Jillian Michael's new fitness/diet how-to guide, Making the Cut whilst making my bi-monthly Target run. BUT, the thing is: The woman scares the crap out of me! I almost can't look at the cover in fear that she'll yell and have me run laps with a log strapped to my back.

[FYI: I've just stumbled upon her MySpace page and am pondering (and shuddering at the thought of) sending her a Friend Request. Oy.]

One (Crazy) Love

I'm reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan, an associate pastor at Simi Valley Church. And it's ROCKING me!

It's a back-to-the-basics kind of book. A reevaluation of Christianity today. Each chapter goes through the fundamentals of our faith.

One particular chapter challenges our (my) love for Jesus. In it Francis poses a question: If there was a way you could have heaven [and eternity] and not Christ, would you be satisfied? Meaning, if God were to grant you all the glories and perks of heaven, would that be enough?

My mind began to race as I tried to grapple this seemingly simple question. My brain kept reminding me that I can't have heaven without Christ, but... What if? What if you didn't need Christ? Would it matter?

Yes, though often times I live as if it doesn't. If I am brutally honest, I don't love Jesus as much as He deserves. Often times I think I'm in like with Him...

But, if I did love Him fully, completely, I would turn heaven and all its promises down for Him. To not have Him, would be foolishness and folly. It would be painful and I heartbroken without Him. Even in heaven.

And, when I stop and think about it, I'm dumbfounded to realize that is exactly how Christ loves us. He gave up heaven and all its riches. When given the choice to have it all, without us, He turned to His Father and told Him He'd rather come into this mortal, sinful plane to die and, in dying, save a mortal and sinful people, so that His joy would be complete. So that we'd be with Him, at His side, enjoying the breathlessness of Heaven and the Almighty's presence with Him.

That's some kind of CRAZY love if you ask me...

Hangin' 10 with the Spirit

Today in Small Group we talked about the Holy Spirit. That enigmatic being we as believers know, but can't really define.

We were asked what it would look like if we allowed the Spirit to do His work. One person said purpose. Another excitement. Yet another respecting the body as God's temple (not ours). I, somehow, likened it to surfing...

If we really, truly sought the Holy Spirit and believed in His workings in us, I think we'd be more intentional (focused) in our day-to-day lives. I wouldn't be the lazy grace-grazer I am, sitting in the middle of the ocean, waiting for the wave of Christ's Second Coming to reach me. I'd (we'd) be kicking and paddling and searching for the wave, always on the hunt for the BIG One to come and find us and envelope us. We'd be on the lookout. We'd be intent on this journey. This temple would be wet by Holy waters and the sweat of our brows. We'd live in excited, purposeful anticipation.

Wonder, Woman

There are those of us for whom that sense of amazement and awe come as easy and natural as breathing.  These are the lucky ones who are able to stare at a blossom or a bird or a traffic jam and say, "Surely God is in control of all things."

Then there are people like me for whom wonder is some chance opportunity, gone in the blink of an eye.  I sit in anticipation, hoping that I might win the lotto.

Staring and hoping and waiting.

Call me jaded or cynical, but my weak faith strains to be amazed at the "normal" things of life.

Tonight I drove from Nashville to Atlanta. Straight down I-24.  By the Appalachian Mountains and over the Tennessee River.

And, I felt small compared to these vast bodies.  But in the smallness, I felt an overwhelming sense of freedom.  I was at peace with God and with myself.  Thankful.  Heart rejoicing.  Singing and laughing and tearing up as my rental car drove past acres of pastoral splendor...

Surely God is Creator of all things.

Lions and Tiger and Bears... O my!

I've just come home from a weekend in the woods with some fellow newcomers at my church. It was a great weekend of spending time with people, laughing at making a fool of myself, sharing/hearing others stories.

Driving up there , however, was a whole 'nutha story. As close to the beginnings of some heinous horror movie as I found myself face to face with the thickest layer of fog I had ever encountered. Parts were so thick (especially closer to the cabin we were to stay at) that I could barely see past a car's length in front of me.

Later that night, after having semi-recovered from my treacherous journey through pea soup and windy, wooded roads, one of our pastors began to share about what it means to be a believer in this city of "brotherly" love. He joked about how he, a boy from the 'hood, felt safer amongst drug dealers and robbers than he did in the midst of trees and wilderness, fog and bears. And as he shared, I reflected back on the drive up to this mountain cabin. I remembered the fear and confusion, the helplessness and feelings of being completely lost that I'd felt only hours ago. I realized these were (are) the same feelings that ache within when I am apart from my God:

• Without His direction, I am lost.
• Without the Cross to beckon me home, I am stuck in the fog of my own confusion and doubt, unable to His nail-pierced hand reaching out for mine.
• When I allow myself to focus on me, I lose Him in the thickness of my sins.

It's in these moments when life and my sin begin to settle like fog around me, that I must trust that God will remain ever closer. I pray He would remind me of my journey up to this mountain retreat and the fear that filled my heart. I must ask the Spirit to fill my heart with that same desperation when I wander from Him.

Grapevine It

A friend of mine was recently engaged. The funny thing is: she was hesitant to tell people. Afraid that people would accuse her of bragging.

I found out just the other day while we were at football practice when the other girls were making vague comments. I had to put 2 and 2 together, but still wasn't sure until I confirmed it with her over gChat yesterday.

Had it been me, I think I would have called my closest friends and then maybe emailed the "B" group (if there is such a thing). Aren't we as a body of believer supposed to share not only in our sufferings, but in our times of joy, too?

I dunno. Maybe sometimes life calls for some grapevining...