Camp to Coker, Part 1

I like blankets. And couches. I also like living with friends who are rather decent musicians, to say the least. While utilizing both a blanket and a couch, I'm listening to Stafford play guitar riffs and progressions,  and I'm reorganizing this blog. We'll see how the changes last.

Speaking of change, a lot has changed since the last time I posted something here. It was the Fourth of July in the middle of my fourth summer working at Camp St. Christopher, and I had just returned a few days before from a trip to see the last space shuttle launch. Before the summer I had taken a semester off from Haverford and worked at St. Christopher in the CORE program, where I spent time trying to listen for what God had in plan for me. I was mainly focused on asking about school: where to finish my studies and what to study. He answered those too, but I mainly found him drawing me closer to Him and revealing a taste of my future calling.

Now, I'm living, on the opposite side of the city I grew up in, with three guys, two of whom I've known for a few (good) years, and one who I really only met on our first day moving in. I'm almost done with my first semester at the College of Charleston (although only a half-load of classes), I'm leading worship at Church of the Good Shepherd in West Ashley, and I'm working valet at the VA Hospital downtown. Although it looks pretty much just like I expected, it's also been not like I expected at all.

I imagined spending a ton of time with the wonderful people I already know at the College of Charleston, our home being a center for a sprawling Christian community, and comfortably getting by with the money I'd saved over the summer and would earn working. I imagined losing my procrastination habit. I imagined diligently pursuing my Savior, growing closer in knowing him and becoming more sure in faith. I imagined flawless roommateship, infinite jam sessions, and other joyous things.

What I've found is not the complete opposite, but definitely different than what I expected. A lot of it is due to a lack of free time in my schedule, and the rest is a lack of wise usage of my time. Oh, and then there's the part about how God's plans are different (and better) than my own. But that will come out in the next installment.

Faith and Fireworks

For the Fourth of July, I went to the Miller's place for some food, fellowship, and fireworks, and naturally, we had a blast (pun intended). After sitting on the grass passing around a guitar, taking rides on the limousine golf cart, and playing death hack, we headed off to the dock to launch the fireworks.

The Miller's dock is quite narrow, so we walked single-file to the end where we quickly realized that there wasn't enough room for us and the fireworks. So a few of us guys (naturally) stayed behind to handle the explosives while the rest sat along the edge of the walkway to watch. We launched screaming rockets, roman candles, and fireballs (one of which, after the launcher fell over, reportedly grazed a few legs and a head, but it could just be a myth, as no one left the dock injured). For the bottle rockets, we found that the fishing-pole-holder made a perfect missile silo. We tried to launch two at once from it, but didn't manage to get the second one lit before we dropped it in. After hopes of getting it to light by the sparks from proceeding rockets, we gave up on it and moved on to bigger and better things. You could really feel the mortars when they were launched, and we did manage to get two of those at once. The remnants would fall down and you could hear them splash into the river... sorry Environment!

Once the mortars were used up, most everyone had left, but Zach and I stayed behind with hopes to light the trapped bottle rocket with sparklers. We'd been having trouble with the lighter all night, but it wasn't until now that we finally found that the trick was to keep it pointed downwards. We took the first sparkler, held it to the flame, and proceeded to become frustrated. It wouldn't light at all, no matter how long we held it there. Normally, those things ignite in just a couple of seconds, but we held this one in the flame for at least thirty and no sparks were to be found. We grabbed a second one, thinking that the first had been a fluke, but had the same problem. Finally, with both sparklers against the flame from the lighter, in my frustration, which might be more accurately called confusion or bewilderment, I quickly said, "Lord Jesus, light these sparklers!"

And I really don't think there was even a gap in time, not even a millisecond, between the last sound from my mouth and the spray of sparks that leapt  from the sparklers. We quickly tossed them into the missile silo, and, to our dismay, they did not light the lost bottle rocket. We gave up on it quickly, but were captured by the seeming ridiculousness of the past moment. Did that really just happen? They really wouldn't light until Jesus' name was brought into it? And then a more serious question: Why did He choose to answer something so silly as lighting our sparklers rather than prayers for healing we've said in the past?

We began to examine our hearts. When I prayed for the sparklers, I knew what I wanted. Although honestly I may have said it semi-jokingly, there weren't any thoughts of doubt and my motivations were simply to see these things on fire nothing else. But in times when I've prayed for healing, has my heart been so pure? I remember what seems like each time I've prayed for healing being flooded with doubt, and the moment becomes not a time for healing but a time for my faith to be confirmed, or better said, my lack of faith to be vanquished. When I've prayed for healing, it often, if not always, has become a moment where I want to see healing so that I could have faith in healing, and my heart's desire to see the person healed for their sake or for Christ's fades away.

So what does this mean? Does He only do His works when our hearts are focused on what we're praying for? Does He refuse to show up when we falter and question our faith, even in a small way? Surely the latter cannot be true, for He often shows up in those times, albeit different than we probably would imagine, and I can remember a few small times when He has healed even when I was desiring the healing for my faith's sake and not for the sake of the joy in restoration or kingdom work being done.

I'm not really sure what to think of it all, but it is a good wake up call for my heart when I'm praying. What am I truly focused on when I'm speaking to the Most High God? When I'm praying for someone else, is my heart concerned about me or them? Am I truly desiring kingdom work to be done in their life because I love what God loves to do? Or am I just looking for confirmation of a weak faith? (not to say it's wrong to have a weak faith.) When I'm praying for the life and soul of another person, do I have Christ's heart for them? I don't think it's wrong to struggle and wrestle or to want to be encouraged by seeing the fruits of faith. In fact, those are great and fruitful things. But I do hope that in the moment, when I'm down on my knees with someone, or with a hand on someone's shoulder, that I will be desiring their good, and for that moment, set my struggles and doubts aside, and just love and hope for His will to be done.

Those Turbulent Waters

Reflections on the surface of the river shift
as the wind glides across
and the current guides along
the water to the ocean.
The surface reflects the different scenes around,
wavering, here and there, from marsh to sky;
changing from earthy greens and yellows to a pale blue.
But between each shift comes a moment of transparency,
a glimpse into the heart of those turbulent waters.
Dark and murky, the depths are unseen, clouded by muck and mire.
The struggles of life and death beneath the shimmering surface remain hidden,
except for the occasional splash;
a school of fish searching for escape from a pursuer;
the breach of a dolphin's backside going for air
from which it is deprived from below. 

But You, oh Lord, see the beauty of it all
Your gaze pierces right into those turbulent waters.
Others may see glimpses of the truth,
But you do not wait for the shift on the surface
to see into the depths.
You see past the lack-luster attempts at righteousness,
appearing here and there but never constant, often untrue. 
You even see through the cloudy transgressions
that keep away from true beauty;
from Your true beauty;
from my true beauty.
You see clear into my heart.
All of my struggles are laid before you.
You see my flights away from pursuers, 
desperate for escape.
You see my burdens, heavy and suffocating,
leaving me gasping for relief. 
You see all this, but also beyond
to something that gladdens You: an image of Yourself,
clouded and dirty, but Yours still.
Even more, you see Your Son
welcomed in those turbulent waters.
He dives down deep, letting loose His blood upon my waters.
And what ought to make things worse does just the opposite:
Instead of further murkiness of guilt and shame, 
instead of adding to the filth, 
His blood consumes it.
And again He dives, deeper each time.
Clarity comes forth in splendor. 

These dives, however, do not come without a price.
They were paid for by three nails
And three days.
Yet You offered this currency willingly.
So that above my waters, and above many others, 
You could post a sign.

It reads that I am purchased.
It reads that I am won.
It reads that in me He takes delight.
It reads: "I am The LORD's"

And the Lord, rejoicing as He reads His claim, returns to the depths.
His blood is glad to spill from His wounds,
the pain two thousand years gone, 
the joy ever-present.
But not only does He bleed, 
He breathes.
He breathes in my watery spirit and breathes out His own,
The Spirit flows from His lungs, joining with mine,
mixing and churning, 
turbulent and beautiful, 
powerful and sweet,
Creating inside me renewed waters,
renewed spirit,
renewed life.

Lord, I ask you to keep working in these turbulent waters
Stay faithful as you have shown yourself to be.
Continue to purify my heart, cleansing me from muck and mire.
Let the new waters of our spirits, one, rise up
at first ankle-deep,
then knee-deep,
then waist-deep,
then so deep one could swim. 
Fill me to the brim, that I may have true life, and life to the full.

We are on the witness stand

A vast number of people are searching for God, but there are many who say they need proof. In Isaiah 43, God tells us that we, who have seen His goodness and known His love, are His witnesses. So now, let us be proper witnesses to Him, telling the world, by word and by action, what it is that we have witnessed. Not that they would see us, but that they would see Him. Just as a witness gives evidence to a case, so let us give evidence to the Lord our God. Let us be that proof that they need, that they may know and believe Him, and understand that He is who they are truly looking for. Let us not keep hidden the things we have seen and He whom we know, but instead let us proclaim boldly the gospel of Christ, the good news of grace and hope, and the truth that has set us free.

Thoughts from John Piper’s "Is God less glorified because he ordained that evil be?"

            What if we all walked around with a loud humming in our ears? No matter what circumstance, by our mere existing, a constant noise overwhelmed our sense of hearing. The sound of a brick falling and hitting the ground would not reach us, nor would that of a car’s horn trying to get our attention. The horn couldn’t get our attention and would thus be meaningless, all due to the constant humming that would overwhelm our attention. Or, when you have headphones on and someone is trying to speak to you, the music in your ears does not allow for you to hear what they are saying, even though they are, in fact, speaking. It is not until you turn down the volume, or remove the headphones, that a quiet sweeps through to your ears, and then in disruption of that quiet comes the sound of the speaking person; distinct, noticeable, appreciable. It is like this for God’s glory to be known to us. His love, mercy, goodness shines through the darkness or quietness of the things that are not Him. He is further glorified by all that encompasses the thing that is Creation, including even sin and evil.

            Carefully noting Piper, who quotes Jonathan Edwards:

The impulse to create the world was not from weakness, as though God was lacking in some perfection that creation could supply. ‘It is no argument of the emptiness or deficiency of a fountain, that it is inclined to overflow.’

God knows his own glory and does not need sin and death to delight in Himself. But for us to grasp His glory, we need these things in order to fully and completely delight in Him, which brings him even further glory and delight.

His Holiness, his “Set Apart”-ness is made in the existence of things that are not Him, and the magnitude of this Holiness is his Greatness compared with that of anything else. His beauty, his melody, his song is made distinguishable for us amidst things that are not Him. His power and glory are made evident in their practice, in their use. Without one’s ability to make a distinction, no distinction can be made. What value or meaning has “restoration” to a person if there is nothing to be restored? How can one recognize and give glory over something that is not manifested?

Edwards writes: 

“If it were not right that God should decree and permit and punish sin, there could be no manifestation of God’s holiness in hatred of sin, or in showing any preference, in his providence, of godliness before it. There would be no manifestation of God’s grace or true goodness, if there was no sin to be pardoned, no misery to be saved from. How much happiness soever he bestowed, his goodness would not be so much prized and admired…. 

So evil is necessary, in order to the highest happiness of the creature, and the completeness of that communication of God, for which he made the world; because the creature’s happiness consists in the knowledge of God, and the sense of his love. And if the knowledge of him be imperfect, the happiness of the creature must be proportionably imperfect.”

This is why God ordains evil to be. Not because he enjoys it, but because He is glorified in conquering it, in forgiving it. His Character shines forth through and against it, and we give Him the praise He is due.