Peek-a-Bo, He loves you

Thanks to Francis Chan I'm inspired to humble myself and offer my preconceptions to the wisdom of the Spirit. Why try to squeeze by with as much as my thinking as possible when I could embrace surrender and live married  and hungry for more of Him, more of His light in the darkness of my futility. Father, I acknowledge you as I write this. Let my words align with the only Word, the only utterance that ever existed. I'm sick of counterfeits and the complications of tedious dialogue that curbs the blatant truth: YOU , Jesus! It's always us who had to change, to soften, to see, to hear, to receive and yet you never held that against us. So much we didn't do when you, the One born of God who shone His face, and yet that was never your concern; that was never the point. You, who were never moved and were life came to the people you made and we were sooo confused and dumb, we didn't know it was you, we didn't want you. Jesus, you still came though. Having a sovereign Father/Creator wasn't enough for You. You came to look like us, like the made, so that we could experience your motive of love in the flesh so that we could know you every possible way. We have no excuse, your blessings have kissed the earth Father. Your wild cry has fallen on our ears whether they are open or not. The fact that we can say, "God became a human for me," is a gift. And still, Jesus didn't enforce commandments or reform or correct or guilt us; Jesus Christ our Creator and Life beholder came SOLELY to show us He came close to be close to us. To shine on eyes that had adapted to pitch black nothingness. This undeserved reaction to our hopeless living shocks our ways. Let us know this whole, unadulterated, man that gives like no other. Let us know Him more and more. Once we start knowing, His fullness makes us want to start giving too, so that through His surprising light we shine into others. Why reject the one who gives us a right to belong to His family? Why filter his wildness to certain ideas and not others? Holy Spirit I write this because of you and through you. Thank you that YOU, God are stubborn about me loving you because your the only One that can give more than I need to take.
6/17/11

The Joys and Curses of Loving Someone whose unseen....

I'm frustrated. Restless, like everything I experience is an echo. Love is real. Friends are many. Yet there is always the inevitable BUT of something that constantly ticks away. Is it wrath, judgement, ungrateful discontentment? Maybe just plain selfishness. Sophia, the world does not revolve around you, once again. NO. My soul searches in every conversation. My mind is constantly active, like a stock market riot raging at 100 miles an hour. At the risk of speaking, claiming, or receiving something over my life I have to say I'm familiar with doubt. I press on through a hubbub of voices from every angle. I'm confident in what I have to bring to the table. I love the gifts God has given me and if the Spirit leads, I LOVE chasing with desire for Him. But I'm plagued with the muted voices around the world. If my life was lived before those in prison, starving in every way, in captivity, or those stripped of every luxury I have to even struggle with doubt I would be ashamed. The fact that I'm even in limbo about what college I want to attend in the fall as I ponder and sip on my Starbucks, typing away on my personal computer... wow. Papa, am I living for the wrong audience? Ok, onto the next crowd of critics hounding my thoughts: my motives. Ugh, does the love and faith I have fulfill the passion that drives me so well? If I rant and rage against institutional power, ignorant corporations, business-like ministry; Power without grace; if I rant against them what makes what I have to LIVE any different. I'm just another voice without action. PAPa!! get me out of here! Let me receive that I may give and shine in the chaotic darkness of platform after platform, book after book, testimony after testimony, I wish I could just find something that works. A functional catchphrase that I could lean on in every squabble, every insecurity, every hatred. Language though is not for my abuses. I am to be molded. May my heart understand. Please Lord let my heart know. What does it mean for my heart to be selfless and rejoice in hope at the same time? What does it mean to be humble and find joy in Jesus' wonders alone? My heart could do with some good old, solid, wholesome, meaning. Don't give me anymore empty words, loose words, or multi-layered words. These thoughtful spews are a glimpse of the pains I have when I consider the one my heart knows but my eyes have never seen. And right now I only see those pains. I may be slipping into bitterness. Forgive me Papa. I need to be affirmed that when I look at an audience of blank stares and fight for hope that I'm not just being naive. I need to have strength that when I pray I'm not just speaking words just to speak them. I need to know that you  Papa have a purpose for my life and I'm not just trying to find my worth in a fantasy of my own making. Trust has been a word plastered on the inside of my mind, but I think it got stuck up there. I'm not sure if my heart gets it yet. I cry out for advice, for confirmation that I'm walking with you and that I'm not left alone to my own devices. Papa these are my honest meditations. I shout I love you again and again and hope that the brick wall I find sometimes, does not inhibit your reality in my life. I proclaim yet again... YOU, Jesus, are more powerful

more powerful

More

powerful than my 
stubborness

5/13/11