Why should I waste my time "serving" the "church"?

I've spent countless hours serving my church. I've done things I've hated. I've done things I've loved. I've worked with people who've gotten on my nerves. I've gotten on the nerves of everyone I've worked with. I've completed task I found completely pointless, some of which were incredibly taxing. I've missed birthday parties, graduations, weddings, and funerals because I put a service before them. I've lost friends and gained friends. More than once I've asked the question: "What am I doing here? Why am I wasting my time?" Usually the question rises out of frustration or out of self-righteous indignation. Each time, I remind myself of the three core reasons I do what I do.

Reason one why I waste of time serving: I'm so freaking good at it. I volunteer in our tech department, something I'm really really good at. Not because I know something that other people don't. Because I know how to figure things out. I like to troubleshoot. I love it when a computer fails or a feed glitches out. Computer crashes? Lights failing? Awesome. Thats what I'm good at. I've always excelled at finding patterns, breaking down equations and solving problems. I eat sleep and breath it. Whenever we get new volunteers at church I always try and find out what their good at. When you find out what you're good at you begin to find a passion for it... which leads me to my second reason for wasting my time.

Reason dos why I waste my time serving: I freaking love it. I adore it. Nothing lights a fire in my bones like seeing a service go off without a hitch. There is nothing like seeing a video project you've spent months working on turn out amazing and hear about how it effected lives. If we're not effecting lives, everything we do inside the four walls is utterly pointless. So I'm fiercely passionate about our media. It turns some people off. I offend people way too often. But I'm a little ok with that. My passion with either inspire others around me or weed out the people who aren't really passionate. I woke with some of the most passionate people I've ever met and when we get in a room together to hash out a project, you better believe sparks fly. I couldn't tell you how many times I've argued about something just because I didn't like the color of it, or the way it sounded coming off my tongue or even the way it felt in my hands. It's gotta be perfect. It has to be excellent and only the very best. What we do, we do in the name of Christ an it should represent him in every way. It should be done with care and with purpose. With passion! And that brings me to my third point.

The primary reason why I willing waste my time, energy and life "serving" the "church" is God. I do it because it's what He would do. He has imbued in each of us characteristics and passions that reflect His glory and goodness. I don't do it because Ill feel better at night "doing my good deed" for the Lord. I do it because He made me to do it. Because I take joy in it. I do it because that's the character He wants to develop in me. Someone who isn't afraid to just serve. To just work. He gave me the passion and the ability. What else do I eat sleep and breath for if not to fulfill His purpose for my life? There isn't anything on God's green earth I would sacrifice to see someone else get a hold of that. This world might be full of entertainment and "happiness" you might find some fun in your money or your job or your spouse but you won't find any joy. That is an antidote for this world that flows straight from the veins of Christ. When you connect into His arm like an IV you get filled up with most complete joy you could ever ask for.

There are a lot of people who either don't understand or don't want to understand why I waste my time "serving" the "church". I doubt reading this will change their minds much. You don't understand God by reading about Him or preaching about Him. You learn about Him down in the trenches, where He is. Fighting to reach every single person on earth. You experience Him holding the hands of His broken people and loving them back to life. Sometimes that means Getting up on a stage and teaching His message. Sometimes it means scrubbing the toilets till they shine just right. Most of the time it takes a lot of energy. No matter what you do, it requires servitude.

Find Shelter

You'll have to forgive me, this post may seem a bit repetitive in the sense that I'm piggy packing off of another one of my Pastor's sermons. Frankly talking about my Pastor's sermons is one of my favorite pass times. It really helps me to evaluate and grab a hold of what God is trying to teach me through my Pastor.

My whole life I've had to deal with Death. It has been very evident sense I was very little. In fact, at the age of 5 I came to the terms that eventually I would die, and believing that nothing happens after died (because all the Christians I had known up this this point felt really phony to me... a 5 year old) I figured I would just cease to exist. My ultimate resolution to this was that if I died I wouldn't even be around to miss not living so it couldn't be all that bad. But it was terrifying.

Under that world view I lived my entire childhood. Frankly nothing in this world really warranted my attention. It didn't really deserve my time. After all, eventually I would die so whats the point? You might say I was a "tad" cynical. I began to look for somewhere to hide from what I believe to be a harsh reality. Don't get me wrong here... I was suicidal or even depressed really by this reality. Not at first. I just didn't want to think about it. I wanted to avoid the whole idea of death; of life. So I hid. First I hid in toys, games, make believe. I never wanted to do anything real. I wanted to live in fantasy. Eventually that really didn't work out so I moved on to books. I used to read eight hundred page books a week. Sometimes people wonder how I know random stupid facts, probably because I picked it up in a book somewhere and stashed it away for a rainy day.

Eventually my escapism lead me to video games I talked about that a week or so ago in my blog Why I Have Given Up Video Games... 

Sometimes I hid in lust. Sometimes I hid in anger. Sometimes I hid in desperation. I was always looking for somewhere to shelter myself from that world I really didn't enjoy. It was my way of coping with what I didn't want to accept.

Tonight, my Pastor talked about finding shelter in God. It's a pretty simple concept. One that most of us Christians have heard before and have even practiced. However, it brought me to a sudden reality: Even with my avoiding of video games I've found myself desperately trying to hide myself in them again and again. If not them, television. Something to get my mind off of the things I really don't want to think about.

It's not that I don't seek God. I do my devotions almost every day.  I pray every day. I worship God every day. However, usually after running to Him with my problems. I usually end up feeling hopeless anyway... I talked about that in my previous blog: Fear: An evaluated look, inspired by my Pastor

I don't really trust where my help comes from (Psalm 121:1). I don't, when I'm feeling defeated or beaten up find refuge in Christ (Psalm 57:1). I bring my problems and my woes but I don't hide in Him. I don't look for shelter. I for some reason think its still my job to take the brunt of it. Like Jesus didn't die on the cross. LIKE JESUS DIDN'T DIE ON THE CROSS. Like the whole point of it all is that I don't have to bare that. At least not alone. As if God didn't provide a place for me. Like he isn't waiting in our secret place to look after me. To converse. To absolve. To forgive.

Sometimes I wonder at how stupid I can be. So easily confused or deceived. We humans are SO FUNNY. We can repeat something, completely understand it. Put it to practice and then forget the entire purpose of it. We take what God intended for relationship and we turn it right into a mechanical religion. It becomes ceremony.

"Of course I brought it to God!" And then I picked it up and walked out with it. LOL!

Tonight I really think I got the meaning that David was getting at in Psalm 121. Taking refuge in God. Crawling underneath the Word of God and letting God defend me. Veiling myself in His goodness. Like, "I don't care about what's going on. God's handling the situation bro. I'm just going to sit here and hide. In the corner, clad in Kevlar behind the blast shield. I think he can handle it."

I Must...

The night I was introduced to Christ, was not the day that I felt His healing power. I did not know my sickness, I did not understand it. Each day I would wake up and an ache from deep inside my heart would remind me of my condition. Like a slow poison pulsing through my veins. How empty my soul felt. How lost my spirit had become.

No, it wasn't until later one night that His healing touch came to me, the night I fell to my knees and told Him that my life was His, that I no longer wished to live it. I asked Him to take it away. To remove the pain that clung to me daily, like a sore. I could feel it like a pit, sucking me inside it and swallowing me up. And emptiness that I could not fulfill, a pain that had been dug out by years of laying in the dark.

That night, something dropped. Something fell inside me. It filled me up and sealed me off. Closing the pit that had tormented me for years. It brought to me a wholeness, a sober feeling only explainable to those who once had blurry vision. The power that was released in my heart cured my illness and brought me back from the brink, to life. How amazing! How insane, the Love that was exposed to me. That night, the hands of Christ grabbed a hold of my heart and filled my scars and took my pain away. And since that night, He has never let go.

But it was not until recently that I could truly explain how simple the feeling was, what truly Christ had done for me. You see, now I no longer lay awake at night. I no longer feel the torment I once did. Now I sleep soundly knowing that I AM ABOUT MY FATHER'S BUSINESS.

Cruel Little Boy

How cruel, how harsh a man can be. What wicked and tormented part of us wishes such harm on our fellow man? What hate have we hidden in our hearts that causes such strife and wrath? What Lord, is so hidden inside me? What, makes me forget time and time again of your great love?

I cry Lord, I plea! Take it away, forgive my soul. I have sinned Lord! I have fallen! What selfishness has overcome me?! How absurd! To even ask forgiveness... Like a cruel child I have attacked your children, and yet return to you for comfort. What boldness to approach you! What arrogance to beg from you!

Why Lord, do I have these scars? Why do I bleed so bad? Who Lord knows how deep these scars go? Who Lord has seen the blood and the pain? Who can understand the tears? What man can see the suffering? The years oh God spent locked away. Whipped and tortured. Burned and cut. Steel Bars of my own foolishness held me. Isolation befriended me. Sorry overwhelmed me. The years Lord, how long they were. The scars Lord, how deep they dug.

There he stood, his words they cut. His hands they smothered. In him was accusations. Around him was death. He drew before me my very actions. He threw upon me my own inequities! He stood there and accused me. His words were true, his charges just. Every crime I committed, every Sin I drank. He brought before me past and present. "To YOU!" he cried, "they belong!" He stamped on me my title, earned in full. He broke my bones. He cut my throat. He shut me in. He locked me away. There he burned me. There he stole from me all that I held dear.

I was alone Lord, bleeding to death I cried out. Surrounded, I surrendered. Desperately the words came out, painfully they were uttered. Save Me Lord. Save me from my selfishness! Save me from my cruelty! Save me from my hate! From my lust! From my envy! Pull from me these nails. I lay there helpless, my crimes before me.

And in the darkness I felt Your great hand. You reached inside me. You touched my heart. It was then you spoke, it was there that you proclaimed to me. "I, have felt these scars. I have seen this blood. I know how deep they go, I've felt their burn. In these hands I took your nails. In these hands I bore your Sin! I have stolen your title. I have set you free!" Your hands they held me. You pulled me free, they took the flames. Your hands they dug, they burrowed in. You felt my very beating heart, and there I lay covered in your great blood. Your heart in mine. Your fire is mine. You traded me my helpless body. You traded me my failing heart.

"Here I have planted, no deeper can one go. No further can one dig. Here I plant my flowing river. Here I rest my healing hands. In your heart I whisper my Word." You stitched me up, you covered me. You set upon me your shining crown. You stamped upon me your golden seal. How precious your blood. In me grew a heart of strength. In me grew a soul of love. "I have cast away your stoney heart. I have purged away your blood stained soul.

Yet Lord, here I stand my hands in blood. My heart so hard. And yet again I see those nails. Yet again I see Your blood. And there you stand, your hands in my heart. You lips across my forehead. You take the flames, you take the nails. You heal my heart. You feel the scars, how deep they go. "I know." You assure me "I will always love you."

Hallelujah!

A Word To The Heart: Anchored

I have set you like an Anchor in the sea and to you I have tethered a multitude. I have ground you and set you into the deep earth, unmovable unshakable. I have made you a rock, a strong tower. Like a skilled craftsman I have chiseled and cut you into a strong beam to hold My House. Around you I have placed my children. They are chained to your sturdy guidance. You hold them strong like a strong rope in a storm.

Do not forsake them! They have but one cord, fragile like a string. Hold them gently and reel them in with My Love and My Words. Let them glide across the waves to and fro back and forth but hold them steadily upon my path. Guide them, nudge them. For you I have made solid so that they will not become lost.

How many have slipped away? How many have you failed to grasp? How many have you tugged and severed? Sober up and clear your vision. Look about you to the mesh of lives that spin twirling around you without guidance, without hope. Open your heart to the majesty of my design.

A Father's Love

Each of us has a different view of a Father, at least initially. It is given to us by our earthly fathers. Some are good and some are bad. Each determines our initial feeling for God, our fathers are an image of who God becomes in our minds. My Father, was not the best man. He was a terrible husband. He made many mistakes in His life and fell many times. However despite my fathers shortcomings he taught me one thing that not matter what I do in this life will never leave me. My father through all his imperfections, taught me the perfect love of a father.

There was never a time in my life I EVER questioned the love my father had for me. I knew that he would tear heaven and hell apart to protect and watch over me. I knew that he was jealous for me. I knew that he wanted the best for me. I knew that he always encouraged me. I knew that no matter what happened he was behind me and he was for me. I KNEW that no matter what happened at the end of the day when I was broken and beaten and when all hope had been ripped away form me that he, through all the tears, through his own pain and suffering, would ALWAYS be there to hold me and watch over me. Above all he taught me that though he loved me dearly, his heart constantly cried for me to love him back. That his only frustrations at me and his greatest pains rooted in my unloving actions toward him.

How blessed I am to have been in that home for so many years. All of the pain all of the hurt was worth that simple love. How valuable, how comforting it has always been, it has created in me such a reserve and faithfulness that I could never claim to be my own. How infinite our God's wisdom is to take such a man who the world deemed unworthy and through him teach such a powerful message. That no matter what our mistakes, He loves us. No matter what happens, HE LOVES US! That no matter what happens HE IS FOR US! How amazing is our God!

Today I can still say, though I have taken a different path than him and though he may not approve, I know he loves me. Moreover, I love him. In that realization I find my love for my heavenly father. I find peace in that, that if we can have such a love for each other being born of this world, how great is that love He brings to this earth.

These days I am separated from my father by a veil, I have gone past it and moved toward my heavenly father, however he is still blinded by it, trapped on the other side. I scream and I cry out to him, follow me but he can't hear me, he can't see me. He is so far from me it is unreal. In this I realize my Father's pain, that for so long I was on the other side of that veil. For so long He cried out to me and I could not hear Him. For so long He longed to bring me into His embrace but I could not feel Him. Oh God how strong and mighty you are to have such love. I pray Lord, break his bonds and show him your love. Use me Father to show him a son's love. My heart is broken for him Lord. Let him see the power of the cross and the love we both hold for him. Thank you Jesus for your sacrifice and grace towards us. Amen.

Seasons

As the day comes to a close I reflect on the information presented today by our God. It is interesting to note how He will gently push us here and there and then when we feel lost he will reveal to us where we really are. This is interesting because the whole time if we would just open our eyes and seek we would quickly discover where He wishes to lead us... however I'm straying from the topic.

Between God's Word for me along with some conversations with some very influential people in my life along with an intimate prayer session with Jesus, I have come to a conclusion. Though I do not want it, I have been moved into a season of my life which requires me to do the exact opposite of my current wishes. My desires while not wrong are clearly not what God wants for me right now or will manifest in another way. Until then I will pursue His Kingdom and Seek His Righteousness. The conclusion while not what I initially expected, still brings me peace. The Word Pastor Glen Johnson brought tonight was dead on. Often we run around trying to justify or figure out what we think God's will in a given situation is, when all along we really knew what it was and were simply trying to find out own way.

That is a warning shot. We must be careful not to overlook or dismiss the voice of God and His will for us. If we do we open ourselves up for self deceit as well as the Enemy's deceit. So let us find peace in His words and trust in His good judgement no matter how much we want to resist, because in Him there is perfect peace that "...surpasses all understanding".

In this new season I find hope for future seasons, though some seasons may require that we take up our cross and step forward on faith, sacrificing our wishes and our plans. We have Hope that in the future He will bring us to a season of rest and strengthening. So while I may be gearing up for a difficult season I know that there is rest on the other side and I know that He has prepared me diligently for the quest ahead and if He is with me, none can stand against me. Amen.

Each Work Of Art Is a Portrait Of God

Today, some of the greatest young people of God I have ever met and certainly some of my best friends and closest brothers are off to preach to the nations! God has called them to the Philippines, lead by our amazing youth pastor into a broken land crying out for a touch from God. Their mission is honorable and absolutely amazing. I am so proud of them, inspired to new heights. However even with this great opportunity to share the love of our Father, I find myself torn and a little broken by their departure.I must ask myself, why Lord is it that my heart is broken at the separation of my brothers and sisters. What is it father that bonds each of us, so close together...

I read once, that every work of art is a self portrait. If this is true then truly I have seen the face of God. In each one of His children I have seen a piece of Him, a little part of Him revealed through His beautiful works of art. In each of the amazing men and women of God, now on their way to the Philippines rests a little piece of my God. I can not help but miss each of them because in each of them, I miss my God. His correction and words of Wisdom, His father like and mentoring spirit, His compassion and love for His children, His joy and heart for all man kind. His genuine care for the individual. All shown, all set on display for the world to see, in his unique and hand crafted works of art.

Through this revelation of our God I have discovered that the only way to truly see our God is to see each other, to know them and recognize Christ in them, to truly seek after the little piece of God He hid inside them, so perfect and flawless. I know that no matter how I try, I could never know my God without knowing His children. In that I find peace and hope, because there are many of His children and I know only a fraction of a fraction. Praise you God for your love and mercy. I love you God and in turn I love each of your pieces of creation.

These Hands

These hands are for the broken hearted, for the empty handed, for the lost and confused. These hands bring peace, these hands bring healing, these hands bring life, these hands are strength to weary bones. These hands carry fire, these hands consume guilt. These hands break strongholds. These hands are strong and mighty. these hands do not fail. These hands always love. These hands beckon joy. These hands carry hope. These Hands are not my own. These hands belong to you.

When all seems lost and hope is gone, when life is absent and death is present. These hands will carry, these hands will hold. When hearts are broken and men have failed, when the walls are too high and the steel is too strong, these hands will break these hands will bend. When you're all alone and light is fading, when you're broken down without words, these hands will heal these hands will bind.

These hands have been consumed. These hands have been crucified. These hands no longer bare my will. These hands no longer bleed my blood. These hands are His, these hands are life. These hands are Christ's, they will conquer, they will prosper.

I Bear Witness

We are the witnesses today of what will be written in decades to come. We will be the ones who must write and explain to our descendants why we chose to make the choices we have made. It is our responsibility and our burden to remember these days. Another century gone by, another hundred years of human struggle. It is our responsibility to remember the great accomplishments of our day, and the great sadness. We must remember each birth and each death of each day.

Today I will attend the memorial of a righteous man of God. Not because he had obtained in his life some form of righteousness through his good deeds or good behavior, but through his faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. A man who's love for Christ compelled him to action, a man who's obedience to God set in motion life changing events. Gabriel Washburn discipled two of the greatest men of God I have ever met in my life, who's anointing is clear and the hand of God is vividly evident in every aspect of their lives. His obedience and guidance pulled them into a love and strength that even unto his death could not be shaken.

I stand in awe of the love of God. I new very little about Gabriel, my experiences with him are few and far between. I did not have the privileged to be discipled by such a man. However the fruit of his labor grows around me each day, it would be hard to go a day without remembering his life. I once read that true fruit is shown through your spiritual grandchildren. I know now that is what I am. Through Gabe's discipleship of Sean Gleason and Jordan Shaw, I too have been discipled by them. Brought in to the revelation and love of our God. I am so blessed to be a part of such a strong and spiritual lineage.

Now I bear witness of the death of such a great man, taken early from his calling by the thorns of Satan. Brought low by the power of condemnation and shame. It is a striking reminder that we all must answer to our convictions, that we must stand strong in our faith for one another. It is a reminder that we must all be open and accepting of one another's faults as not to put each other to shame. Most importantly it is a realization of the power of the individual. That one man can effect so many lives, so directly and indirectly.

So as we celebrate the life of God's son. Let us be compelled to be more like him. Let us walk out the anointing he was called to. We will use his death as a reminder of how we should live. Let his death bring to us grace and love for all those around us. We praise you God and thank you for your grace and love in our lives. Amen.

The Girl The Wolves And The Fire

The dream started with me and the Durr's entering into a restaurant like place something like the Seattle Needle. We were aware of some kind of pending doom... like the shock wave from a Nuclear Bomb. As we approached the Cashier, I looked up and saw a glass ceiling above us and I could see all the people dancing and eating. It was as if people were aware of the coming doom but didn't see it as serious or felt safe up in their restaurant. When we went up the stairs, we grabbed a Table closer to the edge, the room made kind of an L shape and we were seated right where the L bent. I stood up and I saw my friend and she called my name in a friendly way as if we had not seen each other in quite some time, and we hugged. Then as I went to pull away we began to dance. We danced for a while then slipped away from one another and went back to our families' tables. Then everything went black.

The next thing I remember is being in a destroyed City, looking down a sloped road. That is when I noticed my spiritual leader with me (A Shaman monk). I felt as though he was part of a group though it was never said, that there were more than just him, who were not there. He seemed urgent... as if my life was endanger and I had some soft of important task to take care of... for some reason I was especially important. As we walked along the road he guided me around debris... such as Cars and walls that had collapsed. As we walked... to my right I noticed a figure standing in the alleyway. He was large built and seemed almost to give off an aura or steam. I pointed him out to my Spiritual leader, who immediately began to move towards him. As he approached the man in the alley, who did not move, the man grabbed him and snapped his neck, then dropped him. Without losing a beat he began to run towards me and as he did he transformed into a wolf, a large one. I began to run but he caught up quickly and knocked me down. as I turned over I shoved my right arm into his mouth as far back as it would go so he couldn't bite me, specifically my neck. Stridently I became aware of God around me and I was consumed by the holy spirit and literally covered in flames. I grabbed the wolf by side of the head and pinned it to the road, then I bit its throat and ripped it out.

The next thing I remember is trying to avoid being captured by the wolves. I had returned to my old house (not my real one but apparently in my dream my home or the home of someone I knew) and they tracked me there, there was a large hole in the floor and I could see them below me and they saw me and began to come up for me. So I ran out into the forest, the wilderness. And as I ran I came to a building... something like a business office or a hospital where apparently the girl form before worked. I had been trying to find her as she was the only close person I could remember or think of and it seemed apparent that I needed to find her. I got fairly close to her but don't remember really speaking to her only seeing her and her seeing me. Most of the rest is hazy and I don't remember it.

Crimson Grace

I find that each night as I lay in bed that there are a billion things that I have failed at. Each day I grieve the spirit in some way. Each day I fall short in some way, however insignificant to me or the world. Each day I find that the only thing that catches me when I slip is the grace, so undeserved and unearned.

My selfish pride puts me in situations that I should not be in. It brings words and thoughts to my mouth that I know are sharp and hurtful. It repels me from those that I love and creates friction between me and the ones who truly need me. One of the most loyal and caring kids I have ever met, Dakota Durr, has shown over and over that he is a true friend with a love that does not hinged on what I can do for him. Yet I push away form him and am almost offended by his naive attitude. How ridicules to think that I am better than he because he sees the good in people who I would never give a second glance. How humbling it is to see a young man like him so much more mature than me in ways that are years beyond me.

My lust for my own selfish desires that goes beyond just a lust of the flesh but of the mind and of glory and of entertainment. It brings a lazy and self centered attitude to me. I can spend hours a lot on a game but won't spend 20 minutes to minister to a friend. How absurd to assume that I am doing everything right. How arrogant to believe that I deserve to be greater. What I deserve is to be humbled. To be placed where everyone can see my weaknesses and taunt me. I deserved to be ashamed. I deserve to be left alone. The solitude that I have earned. What I deserve is a cross. And yet here I am, humbly covered in the crimson grace of Jesus Christ. Here I am desperately holding onto the hand of the Father. Here I am on my knees thanking God for the mercy I don't deserve.

How great is my God?! How much love He has for me! How amazing His grace is! How enormous is his sacrifice for me! Its unbelievable! He allows me each day despite my failures to rest in peace and joy. He allows me to wake each day unashamed and without condemnation. For that I give him my rusty, worthless crown. I lay it at His feet. Take it O' Lord. It weighs more than its worth. It makes my head heavy and my sight blurry. Thank you God for this joy, thank you for this power that flows through me to reach those around me, even though I do not deserve it you allow me each day to be your instrument. Each day you open opportunities for me. Each day you correct me in my ways, patiently, lovingly.

Thank you God for your crimson grace.