blog
i use my words
Go. I can't shake this thought, even though it's really hard for me to dwell on right now:
Jesus hung on that cross to take more than my own sins. He also hung there to carry the sins of others that hurt me deeply. And in that same instant, He hung there to carry the pain and sorrow I feel because of those sins against me.
In the very same moment, He held both. Wept for both. Bore the eternal burden of both.
So that both of us could be free.
Done.
Go. Music moves me. That sounds corny. And I'm trying to think of a less cheeseball way to say what I mean, but with the clock ticking, I feel pressure to just keep rambling writing.
Music really is therapeutic to me. God speaks through lyrics and melody lines. He whispers through egg shakers and nudges me with notable percussion. I feel Him in a singer's voice that takes me by surprise.
My iPod is one of my most prized possessions; it carries a song for every occasion. I'm often behind the times with what others are listening to, but I'm okay with that. I have plenty of music from my favorite "genre": melancholy.
I didn't bring a car adapter with me to the States, so I've had to improvise. My $10 portable speakers now accompany me as I drive so that I can hear my tunage. I keep it cranked at almost-full volume and it's nowhere near as loud as I'd like it to be, but that's okay.
Because I love simply being able to hear the soundtrack of my life.
Done.
Go. I've been contemplating my four-minute post for a few hours now and, with no clear topic in mind, I finally decided to just start typing.
Last night was my last intern class of the year. It was overwhelmingly incredible, to say the least. But I already blogged about that over on the Field Blog.
This afternoon I'm taking the interns for their last visit to Hope House. I know it's going to be emotional; they've poured themselves into these kids for an entire year...
We leave Monday morning at the ungodly hour of 4:00 to drive to Cape Town for a week of debriefing. I'm looking forward to one last hurrah with them. And I can't wait to see me some jackass penguins. (I'm serious! They exist! And they live in Africa!)
I talk often about the revolving door of my life in ministry --- how I tire of the constant turnaround of people. I must confess: I've grown to dread this time of year. All the goodbyes and the need to reopen my heart to start over? Man oh man, it's hard for me.
So will you do me a favor? Every time you drink a hot frothy beverage in one of those gloriously divine red to-go cups, remember me and say a quick prayer for my heart.
Done.
Go. Last week at Hope House (the orphanage we work at each Friday) the interns told the story of Paul's conversion. Matt narrated and Shannon played a very dramatic Paul. (You've gotta overcompensate when you're the wrong gender for the part...)
After explaining how God got Paul's attention and asked him to "work for Him", Matt asked the kids how they thought Paul responded.
One girl raised her hand. "He said, 'Yes'."
"That's right," Matt replied. "And what do you think God said next?"
There was a long pause. A little boy stood up to answer. "He said, 'Thank you.'"
Classic.
Done.
Men---all few of you who read my blog---can I talk to you for just a minute? I'll be quick, I promise. The way you love your wife shows her the way Christ loves her. What?! Too much pressure for a fallen man?! I didn't say it; God did. "Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the Church..."
Your wife will believe and experience Christ's love for her only to the degree that she believes and experiences your love for her. God can miraculously work in anyone's heart and life, and women with very ungodly husbands can certainly still experience intimacy with Christ. But God puts the responsibility on you to show your wife how much God loves her.
Help your wife believe that Christ thinks she's valued, treasured, and adored today.
