May it be a sweet, sweet sound

This song really hit me at church. When we speak to God, he listens. And, it's a sweet, sweet sound in his ear.

I love you Lord

And I lift my voice

To worship you

Oh my soul Rejoice

Take joy, my King

In what you hear

May it be a sweet, sweet sound

In your ear

Testing Times

Though my name sullied may be,
Yours far more is stomped about,
The diff'rence, though, easily seen:
Guilt I have while you're without.

But that thing you lacked; guilt unknown,
You took from me and bore yourself
At the cross that made the curtain torn
And threw the world upon itself

Now my life is in your hands
And testing times I find I'm in.
But this day's end will have me stand
And with your power find peace within.

Easier said than done, I fear
How to keep from running away?
The answer's simple: You say, "Draw near,
Through this, together, we'll find a way."

The Oddness of Transition and "Home"

Thailand to Canada, Vancouver to Turner Valley.

Where am I?

After hours and hours of plane travel and Greyhound rides, I don't know where I am. But I'm still happy - I still have joy.

This base in Turner Valley, Alberta, Canada has been my home away from home for the last two and a half years. Vancouver wasn't home. So when I arrived there and felt the relief of everything western and convenient and familiar language, I was relieved only mostly. For I was still not "home." Because home is in Turner Valley. (But home is in Escalon, California? That one still gets me. I love travelling so much, but it confuses me a little about what to call "home." So I find myself calling every place I sleep "home." The jury's still out one whether I'm fine with that or not.)

So my week and a half in Vancouver was slightly awkward. (And I don't use that over-used word freely.) I was waiting for the final relief of the Discipleship Training School - debrief, retreat, and all - to wrap up.

I can't tell you how relieved I was to enter the rest that awaited me at Turner Valley. Inquisitive and hilarious friends, picking up our relationships where they left off, welcomed me back. They not only made up my room, but brought my stuff out of storage - a task I was not looking forward to.

Possibly the best thing that's happened being back was a happenstance conversation with a local stranger. Jim struck up the conversation as our pedestrian selves shared a road on a warm, snow-melt kind of day.  He's had his share of difficulty lately. Between being kicked out of his job and losing his wife last year, he kept a positive spirit and admitted there had been some inner healing even today, by laying flowers on her grave.

But before he shared about his tragic loss, I was prompted unexpectedly to ask him a question (prefaced of course): "Jim, this might sound a little crazy (there's the preface), but do you have any aches or pains in your body?" After an overwhelmingly affirmative answer, I followed up my question with another one to top it in strangeness, "Can I pray for you? I just got back from a mission trip and I've seen people healed and they've felt peace. God can heal your body."

Though he danced around the question, and again politely declined when I repeated it at the end of the conversation, I couldn't help but feel successful. Since success is when we obey God, I did well. And it was just the opportunity I needed to realize that though my DTS staffing experience has dissolved, the needs of the world and the calling from God remain. And though change and transition may cause the ground beneath me to feel shifty and swirly, there is no place where the Spirit of God cannot reach me.

Where can I go from your Spirit? 

   Where can I flee from your presence? 

 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; 

   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, 

   if I settle on the far side of the sea, 

 even there your hand will guide me, 

   your right hand will hold me fast. 

 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me 

   and the light become night around me,” 

 even the darkness will not be dark to you; 

   the night will shine like the day, 

   for darkness is as light to you.

(Ps. 139:7-12)

Trust in the Lord - A short speech to a Thai church

Oy, our awesome translator, did a good job
(from what I could tell, haha).

At a street church in Pattaya, Thailand, I gave a sermon about trusting in Jesus. It had become so important to me at the time (and still is) that I had to share it with others. Luckily, this opportunity was given to me and I spoke briefly through a translator to this Thai congregation.

Below is the audio file (edited because you probably don't know Thai). It's about 8 minutes long... now that's a short sermon!

Here is the outline:

• Intro.
• Tell your neighbor what you think of when you think of Jesus.
• Trusting Jesus
• Personal:
• Negative story - not letting go of that girl
• Positive story - trusting God to go to Vancouver for a few months and help with the Discipleship Training School
• Bible:
• Moses striking rock (Num. 20)
• Israel's idolatry (Judges-Malachi)
• Why we don't trust Jesus
• Disciples in the storm (Mk 4) - Because we don't know him well
• Wrong picture of him
• Dan 7
• Rev 1
• Application
• Get to know him better! Spend more time with Jesus.
• Trust Jesus with everything!
• What are you trying to hear now? Future plans? Wait on him (Ps. 27), take courage and wait for him to answer.
• Even if bad, bad things happen, always trust in him.

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The Dust That Clings

If dreaming makes him glad

And waking makes him sad

Then thinking he must do

To find out what is true

He doesn't know what's real

But try so hard he will

By using all his might

To find out wrong and right

And doing what is just

He wipes away the dust 

That clings with reckless hate

And threatens his good fate

But dusting takes so long

It's job is never done

So return, you old refrain

You sweetly-sounding rain

Returning from the 3-month mission trip in Southeast Asia has been hard. Somewhere in the last few weeks I began feeling riddled with thoughts of disappointment and have worried about how much good I brought as a staff member of this group. Help came from a friend, though, and I have realized that even if the feelings of disappointment are so strong, they may not be accurate at all. Maybe what feels right, isn't actually right. So this decision to believe the best in myself, to admit the exaggeration of mistakes, and to dust off the condemnation, has been hard, and I haven't been able to do it on my own. But through prayer and a sweet grace-flavored rain, I am constantly being rid of the false accusations.

"Lent" me your ears

Terrible pun title means an adequate blog as I always say. But I press on.

Ash Wednesday begins 40 days of Lent. That was yesterday, but whatever. What to give up is the question. Or is it? I wondered for a while what I could go without: soda, desserts (first thought is food of course), time in my day, TV shows that I follow... Though I did settle on withholding overeating (as in eating way more than I need, simply because I can squeeze it in and because it tastes good), I also realized that in celebration for Easter, what I personally need is not to take everything away from myself, but to continue to dive into God. My greatest need is to draw near to him, to trust him, and to love him. This involves time and energy and it takes getting used to, but oh boy. Because if the Bible is true (which I would admit under penalty of death), the rewards for following God, for hosting the Holy Spirit in us, are incomparable! There's love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control that are dying to pour forth from any person who trusts God with their whole self. Who doesn't want those?

Instead of removing items from my life, which does hold many benefits, I want to focus on adding good things. It's like instead of trying to stop saying mean things, to focus on saying nice things. Then the rude thoughts will fizzle themselves out, naturally.

Yosemite National Park
Date wrong - Summer 2009
(Not exactly related)

Now that outreach is over, I'm trying to figure out what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling. I've been in Asia for almost 3 months! I love experiencing hot showers again (most of the trip they were unavailable). I missed meat and potatoes and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Vancouver's chilly weather and snow-capped mountains have warmed my heart and added a lightness to my step when I was so confused about, well, everything.

I'm honestly not trying to be dramatic. But in this temporary tiredness and anxiety of not knowing if I have done a good job, what my core thirsts for is an embrace. A long, solid, love-filled hug from someone who knows me well. Who misses me when I neglect conversation. Who cares for me in a way I will never fully understand. Who loves me unconditionally. A hug from a God? I'll take that. And another! In preparation for Easter, I will get to know Jesus more than I ever have. And all I have to do is ask.

Confronted with Muck

When a wound is ugly and gross, red and swollen, and filled with muck… What do you do?

You can simply stop looking at it. But we all know that won’t make it go away.

You can imagine everyone gets cuts and bruises and we all live with it. But that won’t last long, because it doesn’t take the pain away. And the purpose of pain is to get your attention.

You can cover it up with clothes or weak bandages and ignore it for as long as possible, hiding it from yourself and others. But you know the blood will run down, smear on things, and your friends and family will see it, smell it, and notice your attempts at concealing it.

Or, you can study the trauma, diagnose the problem, and dig out and remove the muck, despite the pain. A tear or two may swell in your eyes, but the temporary agony will prove itself worth the work because wounds heal. Your body is designed to restore itself. It won’t naturally expel that junk, though; it will learn to live with it, and new skin will grow around it. So we must assist the natural by intervening with supernatural help, cleaning the wound and treating it as best as we can. The dirt, the gravel, the glass has to be handled gently but thoroughly.

I’ve spent loads of energy, time, and emotion staring at wounds and mourning their debilitating effects on myself and others, even after asking forgiveness. I’ve looked at them from every angle and felt every emotion – empathy, sadness, anger, disappointment, apathy. I have overshot humility and ended up in the land of immobilization, where my mistakes and harsh words replay continuously. A festering wound is unenviable.

But in a world that lives with its cuts and abrasions, there’s something special, innocent, and healthy about being sick of your infections. It’s a good sign when there’s no compromise between pride and humility. It’s a good sign that there’s no compromise when it comes to health and well-being, joy and love. If you’re so tired of doing what’s wrong, then you must be doing something right! A hate of a wound is a good thing. But how will you treat it? Staring at it only does so much.

Consult the Great Physician. We can only do so much healing on our own.