Hope

Alaska. I might, possibly, depending on a few unanswered questions, have an opportunity to go to Alaska. Not just to Alaska, but an isolated island to spend the summer helping a well-established author. I would even meet other authors. It’s a childhood dream of going to the frontier as a pioneer mixed with a current dream of connecting with and meeting authors who could guide me. (Did I mention Mountains? I want to be near mountains…). I wasn’t looking for it. It landed in my lap and sent my heart pounding and my mind rolling. Forget the fact that I might not be able to do this, I was excited.

I was excited.

I haven’t been really excited in a long time. Just the idea of something beautiful and filling was making me happy. And just being happy and excited made me more excited because I was dreaming. This could happen in just two months. Forget homework, forget sleep, my mind circled around and around the idea imagining standing by my two favorite sceneries, ocean and mountains, my unedited novel ready to receive some loving care  even as I journalled descriptions for the sequel, which co-incidentally is about people isolated on a small island… I could go to one. Did I mention I had just prayed about that childhood dream of a living museum? This was a dream beyond a dream.

And then I realized. I have a dream… But I have a bigger dream.

We will kneel at our Savior’s feet.

The one whose resurrection just celebrated, the one whose death saved us, the one who made beauty and mountains and stories in the first place. Him. We will get to spend eternity with Him.  As sure as it is that I will graduate (which right now feels very doubtful), no, more sure than the promise I will be handed a diploma on May 7,  the certainty of God’s physical Kingdom covering the Earth is sealed in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

He will come and judge the living and the dead. And in that judgment, for those who confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, repent of their sins and chose to follow God, intimacy will be the result. Not the sometimes emptying kind of intimacy, the filling kind. Our adoption will be complete. We will be family with Christ and we will rule with him.

All beauty deepens in the chance to step into God’s presence. Colors will deepen, the awe of mountains will grow because we will be looking at their creator, who is so, so much bigger. We will be on our knees in worship. I won’t just be in the presence of a man who happens to have intelligence, I will be in the arms of the one who is the source wisdom.

In this hope, we don’t have to say “if God wills it.” He does. This is hope. We have a happy “ending.” It is not a scary one without life or color. It does not mean that we will be bored, no we will finally be satisfied. Our restless days will be calm. Our empty longings will be filled. The definition of intimacy will be found as we settle into who we were supposed to be. We will be, and are today, in the presence of the most holy, famous, powerful person who ever existed.

And we wait, with eager, active expectation for the world to be set right.

This is hope. Not dreams in possibilities, but certainty in the spectacular.

When God provides

“God is telling me He’s got this.” My friend sits behind a desk and computer, a little overwhelmed with the tasks before her.  A little overwhelmed by the fact that she is nowhere near half way to her support due in a few days. There are six dollars in my wallet. Six. My debit card is finally working, and I have no excuse for not going to the ATM machine on campus, but at the moment, I only have six dollars in my wallet. 

                The excitement in her voice as she tells how God’s provided becomes my focus, but my heart is somewhere listening. Give. I try to remember if my laundry card has money on it, will I be able to wash my clothes? Give. I think I can do it later...after the weekend is over, after I get more cash at the store. Give. What about…Give. I remember the woman who took me to lunch yesterday, who spent much more money than I ever would have spent on myself to feed me and challenge me to follow God. Give. I pull out my wallet, find the larger of the two bills and throw it on the keyboard. “Jennifer…that is not why I am telling you this story. No.”

                I shake my head. “I know it wasn’t. But God told me to.” (We will not mention that we just spent the better of two hours in class two days ago discussing whether or not God actually tells us what to do with decisions and just go with the fact that sometimes you know it’s the Holy Spirit and not emotion.)

                She rounds the desk and gives me a hug.

                After I finally got home for my nap, I flipped onto facebook and was surprised to see my co-worker was on campus. I needed to go say hi. As much as I wanted to avoid people or another migraine, or anything of the sort, I knew I needed to go. Sighing, I shade my eyes from the sunlight as I walk back across campus, berating myself for not procuring sunglasses to at least help. I speak with her and her daughter. The eighteen-year-old girl I’m meeting for the first time has my full respect and I wonder if she knows that. Finally,  I can go home to peace and quiet. I say good-bye, give hugs and start to walk away when my co-worker calls me. “Jennifer, wait.” She leads me out of the cafeteria and opens her wallet. “I still wanted to…” I try to protest.

                She had wanted to buy me groceries. I had conveniently forgotten to send her the grocery list. Not so much because I don’t need them…but because her financial state is so much more precarious than mine, and she has to feed three children.  “Nobody knows I’m doing this.” As if that mattered to me. I don’t care if anyone knows, I want her to be safe. I try not to watch what number bills she pulls out, not wanting to know how much, but the bills drop to the ground and I see it is more than I want to accept. I don't really need it and I don't want to admit the fears this is beginning to calm. 

           God doesn’t let us choose who to let help us. He doesn't let us decide whether or not we're in need.  

                A friend’s friend is asking why if he has given faithfully, God has not returned. I don’t know. For three years my parents and I searched for a home appropriate for our family on the mission-field with consistently failed results. Why didn’t God give a house if we were willing to give our lives? I don’t know.

                But why does God give at all?

Is change good?

Change certainly isn’t easy for me. I wouldn’t be up at 11:42 for almost any other reason.

But, this week I realized something absolutely amazing about change.

Change is an opportunity to see meaning in a world that we so often forget how it special is and it is a time to see how you’ve changed and grown since the last big change.

The semester has ended. I will not again take a Bible class in my undergraduate education (I’m not sure capstone counts) and I can see so much that is different in how I see the Bible.

The semester is ended and I’m getting a chance to see just how important some people have become to me, some who were important starting freshman year, and some who slipped into my heart three months ago.

My character is not what it was at the beginning of this semester, I have grown and become a new person—though that person is certainly still growing and evolving in the environments God places me. But change, change can be good. Because without change I might not remember to stop and see how much where I am and who I am with influence who I am and how I think.

Without change, I wouldn’t get a chance to see new things—which according to a friend of mine new is good.

Change is like changing lanes.  This time, you don’t just glance in the rear view mirror, you turn your head look back at your blind spots, and then look forward again and then back once more, just to be sure. So look back catch your blind spot, grasp hold of the person you’ve become, and look forward to a new, and good thing. 

Ending Well

We’re looking at the end of a year coming up, and for some of us an end to a semester. I am 4 weeks away from the end of the semester—the first semester of my senior year. Applications for new worlds have been sent in and now I sit looking at the fast line to the end. And I began to ask, what does ending well look like? And after that, what does ending well look like for me?

                I know ending well has a combination of saying goodbye well, of keeping commitments, of leaving a legacy.

                And it stuck me today, as a fellow student stopped me before I could leave work to come home from work, that right now ending well means being available. Available for fellow students who don’t understand the material or want me to proofread a paper, available for my new friend down the hall, available for my roommates and for my friends “from last year.” Available to freshmen who are adjusting, to sophomores who are finding school is harder than they expected…Available to the person God puts in front of me.

                Ending well means putting work into school, but to be totally honest my classes have begun to be a bit repetitive, and now, what was once taught to me is now being ingrained. Ending well means being thankful for the growth and what I’ve learned.

                Ending well means writing, even though I don’t have a class asking for my next story anymore.

                Ending well means saying thank you for what this school has given me, from beloved friends, to insight, to a deep inlaid fear of God.

                Ending well means looking beyond my world, and praying for France, Lebannon, and Ukraine.

Ending well means leaving a legacy, even perhaps, if that comes with the opportunity cost of performance. Let’s be real, I never was a hard core scholar.

                 Ending well means letting go, saying good bye, and looking forward. Ending well means having a heart in the past, hands in the present and focus on the future. Being fully here. Being there.

I have 4 more weeks to support my classmates and friends before I go home for a break. I have four more weeks to challenge my writing skills and put forth big projects. I four more weeks and a semester...or is it eternity? Time, after all, is inconsistent. 

                What is a beautiful ending? As the days pass, what do you hope to remember? 

                 

Pain

Seconds

Turn into

Hours, no

Millennium,

In the tick

Of a clock

I have

Changed

Into something

Not myself

I cannot

Think

I cannot

Feel

But I feel

Oh! I feel

Hardness

Burning

Freezing

Steel.

Moment,

Minute,

Now.  

A Warning to the Bible Scholar

It’s mid semester of my senior year as I Bible major and I don’t want to read my Bible…to be totally honest I want to run from it. I love God, a lot. But I’m weary of the Bible. I have filled my mind with head knowledge, but my heart is starving. They say the Bible is supposed to change a person’s life…so why in four weeks of intense study of the Bible have I come away with one soul filling lesson? Why only once did the vision of the gospel grasp hold?

                I am in Gospel Literature, but have learned nothing of Jesus.

                I am in the Psalms, but really could stand never to read one again.

There’s something wrong here.

Why is it that the philosophical ideas outside of the Bible are giving me more life than that ancient document written for all of God’s followers?

This is my warning: dear Bible scholars who bless us with your knowledge, don’t forget your soul.

Rationality matters. Understanding the text matters, but if you read the Bible when it’s not about the study or the concepts, but about how God works.

Are we asking the Holy Spirit to work in our hearts?

Are we REALLY letting Him guide us in understanding? In all 4 years of my college I haven’t heard reference to this once in class.

Don’t lose yourself in knowledge, because no matter how many historical arguments there are for Scripture’s validity, no matter if a psalm was written by David or not, no matter if the Christian existence in the world will begin to end with rapture or if there not even be a millennium,  God is looking for those who want HIM not knowledge OF Him.

And so Bible student, I urge you, remember to pray.  Remember that God is God and seek His face. Don’t let the Bible become your idol, and don’t let intensive study drive you from experiencing it. God’s story matters because by it we may more fully know God.

And God is worth knowing.

That’s why we read His Word…because He and His servants co-authored the Bible.  That’s why we study the historical context: so that we can understand how the human author and his audience thought and meant to write. That's why we pray, because His Spirit talks through His word. 

God, please, help us to understand, so that we might know you and love you more. We're hungry to hear you speak. 

Another Day

I stand over the bridge and watch cars go underneath, underneath, underneath…I like watching them: I like the highway.

 The highway feels like home.

I linger to soak in the reminder that I am but a small piece. I take a breath and keep walking, listening to the cars below me  as they still run with their high pitch sound.  

I see a girl running towards me and I wonder if she minds that I stay by the side of the bridge rather than move by the road. She does not move over and I wonder if I should.

            She stops. 

           One earphone is in her ear. 

           “Hey are you okay?” her long blond hair is pulled back in a high ponytail and I recognize her poignant features and Florida blue eyes. We met the other night. She lived under me and had told me that we had some of the bigger classes together. She remembered me because I had asked many questions in those classes and that had helped. 

                 I smile. “Yeah.” I’m not sure what makes her ask.

                “Okay,” She hits my arm lightly as she turns to go. “I don’t like people standing on bridges.”

     And then she is gone. Fast steps take her back to campus.

                My mind follows, even as my feet continue to carry me forward. It’s quite possible that, in another situation, on another day, she would have saved a life.