This isn't everything you are.

Right now. Here. In this exact moment.

This isn't all you are. This isn't everything you have to give. This isn't the sum of your value. I don't refer to what you do- your accomplishments, your achievements, your failures and mistakes. Those have consequences and benefits, of course. I am speaking about your intrinsic value as a human being.

Loneliness is epidemic in my generation. Constant connection but very little real intimacy. Private details of lives spread across the internet for anyone to see. Desperate attempts at authenticity that burn the author with exposure. Constantly putting yourself out there only to be criticized and tossed aside by others seeking the same connection as you.

It wears on you. Whittles your self-confidence to a very fragile thread. Your perceived value decreases with every rejection, every broken promise, every broken connection. And you begin to see yourself differently. Like maybe this is all you are. The second choice. The backup. The almost but not quite. The runner-up.

This isn't everything you are.

Those times you tried and didn't make it but tried again? You are brave.
Those people you loved even when they didn't love you back? You are strong.
Those mistakes you made? You are wiser now.

Your value is so much more that what can be seen. The world that lives inside your head, every quirk that makes you you, your perspective of the world that is utterly unique, the eternity bound up in your mortal frame... this is where your true value lies. Kindness from a broken heart, peace from a turbulent soul, gentleness from a mighty hand; these are rare and wonderful and priceless.

The loneliness that you feel etched on your soul doesn't determine your value. You longing for connection is real and sacred and not a sign of weakness. You are more, so much more. Let the pain of that loneliness remind you...

This is not everything you are.

Begin again

The hardest part is the beginning. The figuring out how to get started. The perfect blueprint with no idea how the finished product will look.
The beginning is exciting. And terrifying. And hard. And fun.

{The beginning: when anything is possible and nothing is certain.}

Beginnings can be small or monumental. They can be of choice or necessity. Sometimes you begin again because you have no other option.

No matter the reason, no matter the circumstance, a beginning is another chance. Maybe not a second chance at the same thing but another chance for you to make the right choice. To do the right thing this time. To accept the grace that is given to you to forgive and move on. To hold yourself to a new standard and reach your benchmark. To finally succeed when you had failed before. To learn from lessons taught at the end and apply them to your beginning.

Begin again with courage, dear hearts. Let the mistakes of the end stay at the end and don't let them mar your beginning. Spread wide your arms and welcome this season. There's a refreshing wind that comes when you begin again. Let it in to sweep away fear and doubt, to fill you with new hope.

Have courage and just begin.     

I need answers.

I need answers.

 

I think we all have that area in our lives that needs to be clarified, straightened out, explained. I remember one time last semester when I had a (gold star) blonde moment at the office but it tuned into one of those conversations with God that revealed my own heart to me.

I had to call my supervisor who was out of the office that day, so I called her from my cell phone. At the exact same moment I heard her phone ring on the other end of the call, the office phone rang. So I hung up on my supervisor and answered the office phone. "Teacher Education, this is Tori." But no one was there. Good, because I really need to talk to Ms. Jen. I picked up my cell phone and called her again. And again the office phone rang right away. I looked at the caller ID to see if it was someone I could call back and was exceedingly confused to see my number there. I sat there for probably 10 seconds, one phone ringing in my ear and the other ringing on the desk, trying to understand what was going on. And everyone less blonde than myself has already figured it out... I was calling my own self.

 

 

{How many times in life do we "call ourselves" instead of calling God?}

 

I was trying to talk to my supervisor who could help me sort out a problem I had but the only one I could get a hold of was me. And I couldn't help me.

The same thing happens to us in our lives when we look somewhere else besides God for help, answers, direction, or comfort. We can't look inside ourselves or to other people and find what we need. It's just not there. All we find are empty words and more questions. Why? Because it's a closed circuit. You can't answer your own questions; you can't comfort your own heart.

But when you call out? You find everything you need.  

 

It makes so much sense but I'm usually the first one I ask even though I know I don't know the answer. God knows that weakness of humanity and maybe that's why He says so many times, "Call on ME and I will answer."

 

When I talk to me, I become more confused, more frightened, more worried, more prideful and less compassionate, less focused, less likely to act on faith. When I talk to God I become "like a spring of water whose waters do not fail," full of joy in His salvation, upheld by the generosity of His Spirit, as bold as a lion. He becomes my defense, my glory, my shield, my reward, my guide, the director of my steps and the banner of truth that defines me.

 

There are wise people in your life that you should seek counsel from, of course. There is great value in hearing another perspective but never let someone else's words replace God's words. They are painful sometimes, maybe hard to hear. But they are always truth. The wisest of us has given bad advice or spoken wrongly but God never has. He never does. And He will never will. He is not a human given to emotion and change. He is eternally steadfast and unmovable in who He is.

 

 

 

"Call upon Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me."

Psalm 50:15

 

The day it all began

Christmas.

That word sparks a thousand images in our minds, some of them good, some of them... less than pleasant. As a child, I (tried) to patiently wait the agonizingly long month between Thanksgiving and Christmas and by the Christmas Eve service at church, all I wanted to do was go to sleep so I could wake up and it would be Christmas.

And then I grew up.

And that terrible thing that happens to children when they turn into adults (that all children swear won't happen to them) happened to me. I saw suffering on one side of the globe and disgusting excess on the other. I heard people who love each other tear each other down with their words because of the stress of "the holidays." There was no "peace on earth" and very little "goodwill toward men" going around. People were still acting like people, just dressed up in fancy holiday clothes.

And it made me cynical.

I know, I know. I'm 23 years old and I just called myself cynical. But its true. "What's the point?" I asked myself. "Why do we do this every year!"

The point is this: Jesus.

The woman in the sparkly, red Christmas dress needs Jesus. The exhausted Wal-Mart employee who has dealt with the sparkly, red Christmas dress need Jesus. The 5-year old son of the Wal-Mart employee needs Jesus. The 5-year old son's teacher needs Jesus. The teacher's husband needs Jesus.
You need Jesus.
I need Jesus.

When you look around you and see the fighting and cold shoulders and stress induced outbursts that everyone makes jokes of for the rest of the year, you're looking at the reason we have Christmas at all.

Because that's human nature. That's why we need Jesus. To save us from ourselves, and for that He gave Himself. He took on our flesh so we could take on His nature.

Sometimes people call Christmas Jesus' birthday, and, I suppose, that's true. But it's so much more than that. The Christmas Jesus is a sweet, tiny baby. The bloody Jesus on the cross is for Easter. It would be more comfortable to keep Him there- to not get the manger dirty with blood. But that's impossible, for they are one and the same Jesus. Because of Christmas, Easter happened. Because of Christmas Pentecost happened. And because of Christmas Revelation 21 and 22 will happen. Christmas day it all began.

It's that day that the great divide between men and God was breached. The day the Champion entered the ring. The day heaven and earth kissed.  The day hope was renewed in tired, watchful souls. The day light came into darkness. The day of the Bridegroom. The day that promises made in the Garden of Eden were kept.

Jesus said, "Abraham rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it and was glad." Let's follow Abraham's example and rejoice this Christmastime. Be happy and enjoy the festivities and uniquely Christmas activities, yes. But most of all, rejoice that salvation came to you. Revel in who Jesus is, both baby and man, and what He did in the manger and on the cross.  

By reason of use...

I can't even say how many times I've read Hebrews. At least a hundred times. Maybe more. And always there's something new to read. Old familiar words that suddenly stick out at you like a shred of blue sky in a thunderstorm.

In speaking about spiritual maturity, the author of Hebrews says this:

"For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again... For everyone who partakes of milk only is unskilled in the word of righteousness, for he is a babe. But solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil."

I think many Christians are familiar with the milk/solid food analogy that Paul also uses. Baby Christians need the basics, the milk, of the Word. And as you mature in the Spirit, you are able to handle the deeper, more difficult things in the Word.

Makes sense. But it's the second part of that verse that stopped me.

"...who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil."

That phrase "by reason of use" is so fundamental to understanding maturity. As I was thinking about this, God dropped an illustration into my head. Last semester I learned, in theory, how to place the leads for an EKG and read the results on the paper full of squiggly lines. I learned how to spot abnormalities in the chart and some of the possible causes for said abnormalities. What I did not learn is how to administer the test. I know the theory behind the test but I have no experience in giving the test. "By reason of use" a certified technician is qualified to administer an EKG test and accurately read the results. Were I to practice and receive training I too, could responsibly administer the EKG.

The same is true in our spiritual lives. We can read the Word; we can quote the Word; we can sing the Word; we can paint it on our houses and fences and post it online. But until we engage in life with Word, we will always be babies in need of milk.

There comes a time when the classroom is no longer a sufficient training ground. You have to stop reading it only and go and do. You can read "Forgive your brother seventy times seven times" your entire life and still carry a grudge against someone. Reading the word "forgive" is not the same as the act of forgiving.  The act shows your faith.

The act of holding your tongue when you want to give someone a piece of your mind- that is you, engaging in battle with the enemy. That is you, boots on the ground, in the trenches, giving feet to your faith. Not in your own strength, of course. But "He who promised is faithful."

Sometimes I would prefer to stay in the classroom. I could spend all day in Hebrew and Greek dictionaries, dissecting the word forgive. I could write copious essays on the importance of forgiveness and all the wrongs that could be righted if people would just forgive each other. At the end of the day I pack my books and stride out the door, confident that I've made great progress in my maturity. After all, I understand all about forgiveness now. And in the hallway I meet someone who has hurt me. Badly. Deeply. I walk past quickly. No smile. No greeting. Nothing.

And I realize that I am still just a baby, needing milk.

We all have areas of strength and others of weakness. None of us got to be strong without work and perseverance. Without the "reason of use."

I want to be a mature Christian. The name of this blog and the verse the concept comes from is 2 Timothy 2:15, "Be diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth." This is the picture of a mature Believer. One who has seen battle and triumphed. One who has proved his love and faith by holding fast to the truth. This is the one whom God approves. The one who takes Him at His word and is a hearer of the Word, yes. But is also a doer.

Maturity comes with a cost. You learn by experience and sometimes experience beats you up. But I'd rather be bruised and wise than beautiful and foolish.

Sanctuary dark and quiet. Eyes closed. Hands opened before me. The song starts and I sing along. 

{You provide the fire and I'll provide the sacrifice.}

The words stick in my throat as the enormity of what I'm praying hits me. 

You, the Eternal Father, the Holy Amen, the Pillar of Smoke and Fire, come and consume. What I lay before you is something that is part of me. It is so close to me I feel the heat of Your fire on my soul. What I lay before You I long to snatch up and preserve from Your fire because I love it. I love it when I should love You. I desire it like I should desire You. So here it is, on Your altar awaiting Your fire. Come and consume. Burn it until there is nothing but ashes left. Nothing of value or worth. Blow the ashes into the wind with the breath of Your Spirit. I long to desire You more than any other thing my eyes can see, my hands can touch, my ears can hear, or my tongue can taste. I will bear the heat of the blaze, the exquisite pain of being burned by You because I know that You will at last bring me forth as gold refined. 

Holy Fire, come and consume. 

Tonight at sundown, the Jewish Feast of Purim begins. The story behind the Feast is well know though not many people will recognize the name Purim. It is the Hebrew word for "lots" as in, casting lots. The story of Purim is the story of a young peasant girl of great beauty who was taken from her home and placed in the palace where she eventually became queen of a great kingdom. It is the story of a heroine who, with grace and courage, saves millions of lives. It is the story of Esther.

Many Christians are at least partially familiar with Esther's story: the young woman who, because of her beauty, found favor with a cruel king and was made his queen. Unknown to the king, the people of his new queen were to be annihilated by the king's wicked right-hand man; but with stunning courage, the queen confronts both the king and his head honcho and saves the lives of millions of people. 

The Feast of Purim is about rejoicing in the providential  protection and deliverance of the nation of Israel, and by extension, all the children of the promise. Because it's not a major feast like Passover or Yom Kippur, Purim is often over looked in the Messianic explanations of the Jewish feasts. But there are beautiful parallels in the story of Purim and Yeshua.

The first one that comes to mind is a section of my most favorite verses of the entire Bible. Revelation 19:11- 16.

 Now I saw the heaven opened, and behold a white horse. And He who sat on him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on His head were many crowns. He had a name written that no one knew except Himself. He was clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, followed Him on white horses. Now out of his mouth goes a sharp sword, that with it He should strike the nations. And He Himself will rule them with a rod of iron. He Himself treads the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of the Almighty God. And He has on His robe and His thigh a name written: King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

This is the picture of the ultimate Hero, Jesus. Just as the Jews have always had enemies that try to annihilate them, so we as Christians have an enemy that constantly seeks to destroy us. In the Purim story, the enemy is Haman, the king's head honcho. In your life and in mine, it's the Father of Lies. And like Esther in the Purim story, this warrior Jesus stood ready in our defense and committed the ultimate act of deliverance for the sake of His people at the cost of His own life. 

Someday, when the whole of creation is gathered to the marriage supper of the Lamb, we will celebrate Ha'Gadol Purim, the Great Purim. We will celebrate the deliverance of the Bride by her Hero and Bridegroom, Jesus the Warrior Lamb.