The Invitation

Ever heard that Rihanna song where the chorus goes:

“We found love in a hopeless place,                                                                    We found love in a hopeless place,                                                                    We found love in a hopeless place”

Here’s the thing though: it doesn’t make any logical sense. It’s easy to sing those lyrics and fancy that they are a poetic way to describe your salvation experience- finding Love in the hopeless place that is this world.

But I didn’t find love. Love found me.

The sheep doesn’t find the shepherd nor does the lost coin present itself to the woman. The lost son had to return to the father because it’s the presence of the Father that makes it home.

Love is not relative to my position just as the sun is not relative to its orbiting planets; on the contrary, my position is relative to Love. In the presence of Love I am found and I am lost otherwise. 

Love never walks away. 

Last summer I read C.S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters and I don’t think any passage in literature has ever moved me as much as this excerpt from the final letter describing the futility of the enemy’s attacks once we have seen our Very Great Reward face to face:

“All the delights of sense, or heart, or intellect, with which you could once have tempted him, even the delights of virtue itself, now seem to him in comparison but as the half nauseous attractions of a raddled harlot would seem to a man who hears that his true beloved whom he has loved all his life and whom he had believed to be dead is alive and even now at his door.”

No, the story isn’t over yet but don’t you love that you already know the ending?

“Just a little while longer and I’ll see you. It’s just a little while longer and I’ll know you. It’s just a little while longer and we’ll be together.”

One day.

One day, I’ll see him face to face. 

As long as you only know the truth in theory, a lie will continue to be your reality. But the weight of experiential knowledge of the truth will shatter the lie every single time, just like light always prevails instantaneously over darkness.

I realize now that that is what happened when I did that trust fall with my Sudan team. In theory, I knew that my body weight wouldn’t crush five people but until I became willing to submit myself to the law of gravity and actually fall into their arms, the lie that I was too heavy was the reality that kept me wobbling precariously on a chair. 

What you believe determines what reality you participate in. Lies isolate you in a place of insecurity while truth surrounds you with community. Lies demand you protect yourself. Truth tempts you to vulnerability.

Which is scarier?

Earlier tonight I walked into my apartment in time to witness one roommate running around with a frying pan in flames while the other two panicked. In that smoke filled moment, my life did not flash before my eyes but my security deposit certainly did. 

Sinners in the hands of an angry God? Oh no, Jonathan Edwards ain’t got nothing on chicken in the hands of a Scandinavian chef!

I’ve been living under the lie that if I could just be more my true self then people would love me. That’s what all my fantasies revolved around: dazzling people with all the facets of my personality so that they would respond with the love, acknowledgment, and adoration I so crave.

The truth? I get to be myself because I am loved, not the other way around.

The problem with believing the former instead of the latter is that it actually does work some of the time. I’m a lovable person so people have encountered my true personality and loved me in response. But that defined their love as a reaction and love that is a reaction can always be questioned.

True unconditional love is proactive not reactive in nature. I believe that to be its defining characteristic. His defining characteristic.

I experienced that today as I was having breakfast with my Sudan mission trip team. One thing led another and suddenly I found myself standing on a swivel chair about to do a trust fall into the arms of five people I didn’t really know.

It felt like eternity passed before I finally let myself fall. And when I did, there was this loud snap as my body hit their unyielding arms. I honestly believe that that sound was physical as well as spiritual- it was the sound of a chain breaking.

I didn’t realize until this very moment that the chain that broke was the lie that said “You can never bring your full weight to your relationships because they couldn’t handle that. You’re too much.”

When I fell, I knew somewhere in my spirit that one of two things had to give way: their arms or the lie.

Turns out a lie is significantly more fragile than the body of Christ.

No one knows this better than my dad. Because I am constantly asking him questions that a college graduate should already know the answer to.

Throughout my life he’s always been pretty gracious and patient with me- from repeated lessons on tying my shoes all the way to repeated lessons on shifting gears in my tired old Honda- but now, his grace and patience is spiked with hilarity.

Last night I emailed him asking when my flight home is and how to navigate the airport by myself. His response?

“Your flight is _______ and you need to check in by such and such time…yadda yadda… You go to the terminal for Delta Departures and follow the bread crumb trail I left for you back in September anticipating this email.”

(I’m laughing hysterically right now.)

One day I’ll be a grown-up but, folks, that day is not today.

WARNING: There is nothing profound in this post!

Yes, it is “Relationship Week” over here at BSSM. Even the cashier at Trader Joe’s could see it on our faces as we checked out our overpriced, marginally organic food.

This is the week that the staff takes it upon themselves to tell us the obvious. Although, based on the enthusiastic responses from the crowd of single students, the obvious is not quite so obvious as I previously thought. We covered realistic expectations for marriage, how you know when you are ready, the non-existence of “the one” coupled with hope for “a one”, etc.

I’m desperately wracking my brain trying to think of something witty to say to showcase my nonchalance about the subject but, alas, my attitude regarding relationships is decidedly chalant. And while a paragraph of well worded sarcasm may convince you that I am not concerned about being almost twenty-four without a relationship in sight, it unfortunately won’t do the same for me.

I know, I know. Twenty-four is young! 

Not according to my grandmother who has innocently threatened me with a membership to an online dating community. And she doesn’t even have the internet! An octogenarian suddenly becoming willing to navigate the world wide web all for the sake of my dating life does not convey a sense of assurance to me.

Honestly, I can’t bear yet another Christmas dinner where the silence is broken by her gentle interrogation: Have you met any young men of good standing? At this point, I think even the gold spray painted Magi who oversee the golden nativity in the center of the table have started to pity me. 

And if there is one thing I hate, it is the pity of gold spray painted Magi!

Chai tea, Michael Buble Holiday radio, international friends, cookie dough, tempurpedic pillows, good hair products, surprise visits from Justin Timberlake on SNL. 

For all those things I am extremely grateful but I am most grateful for family. Here in Redding I have been overwhelmed with love from people who didn’t know me at all three months ago. 

And back home? Don’t even get me started! I have the most amazing parents I could ask for and an older sister who is smarter and prettier than I could ever hope to be. Thank you Mom and Dad for believing in my future dreams even when I couldn’t.

I love y’all so much.

Last night was our revival group party- an 80’s themed roller skating shindig. Let me just say that I saw enough bare upper man thigh to last me a lifetime. Or at least until I get married ;)

Lots has happened since I last made an appearance in the blogoshpere, some painful and some wonderful. Let’s focus on the good, shall we?

Tuesday my world got rocked with the faithfulness of God. Before class I had to run up to my revival group pastor’s office to grab my journal that I had forgotten the day before. She was in the middle of a meeting with all the interns for our group and when I knocked on her door she invited me to sit in the middle of the tiny office as they poured out love on me through prayer and prophetic encouragement of how much God loves me. 

Then I rushed back downstairs just in time to make it to my seat. In my seat was a little red gift bag full of my favorite candy and other goodies and a little card that said “Amy Jane! You are so loved!” A girl in my revival group named Giselle had gone out of her way to show me that I am loved and noticed.

Then, the first thing we did in class was pray for people who needed financial provision for the first mission trip deposit that was due in mere hours. I stood up because that morning I only had $50 in my account and I need $365. 

Tuesday morning right before we left Bethel, I had posted on Facebook about donating to my trip but I didn’t have any faith that anyone would actually donate. Honestly, I thought I was going to have to say goodbye to Sudan.

Flash forward to class and people are praying for me for finances. Those students, who I didn’t even know, gave me $30 in cash! Then, hours later during our break, I went to go check my account with great fear and trembling.

MY ACCOUNT HAD GONE FROM $50 TO $371! God provided more than enough for my first deposit! Thank you, Jesus!

So now I have $400 towards my goal of $3600 and a whole lot more faith that God is going to come through for me.

when even cookie dough and pizza aren’t enough to make me feel better,                 I remember how my dad always says, “The story isn’t over yet.”

‘Cause cleanliness is next to godliness, right?

Yesterday, during our small group meeting, dear Lauren Frey said, “Other people need me to be me.”

Other people need me to be me.

And then this morning in the shower, I realized that to not be myself is to be a bad steward of God’s creation because he handcrafted me. If God created us in his image to reveal himself then I actually have a responsibility to be myself in order to bring him glory.

I believe my friend Nicole Meadows put it most poetically: “Be yourself because doing so honors and delights your Creator.”

I’ve been asking God to show me how to steward what he has given me so that I may receive more and, more importantly, so that I may “share in my master’s happiness” (Matthew 25:21). And today I realized that in order to steward all that he has given me, I have to steward who he has made me to be because that is the most basic level of stewardship.

And California thought it’s golden days were over. Welcome to Gold Rush 2011.

But seriously, more gold dust than I have ever seen showed up at the end of our worship during first year class today. I only noticed it when we started celebrating the goodness of God and singing Chris Tomlin’s “Our God” but it could have started earlier. I don’t know.

So what exactly did it look like? At first I could only see the specks as they passed through the beams of light that lit the front of the sanctuary. To be perfectly honest, even though I’ve seen it before, I spent a few good minutes telling myself that it was only dust.

Here’s the thing though: dust doesn’t sparkle.

And the intensity, or rather the density, of the cloud grew the more we worshiped. I say cloud because the way the sparkles moved, for lack of a better word, was just like the way smokes billows up from a fire.

That was another unusual aspect of it: the gold dust seemed to float upward, instead of downward. Not like it was defying gravity, more like toying with it.

I realize that this is challenging for a lot of believers to, well, believe. And to be clear, it’s not my job to convince you.

It’s my job to be in awe of God.

For those of you not in the know, my activation (outreach) for the year is Treasure Hunts. Treasure hunting is the practice of listening to the Lord’s voice for clues that will eventually lead you to his treasure, namely his son or daughter (even if they don’t know their true identity). 

Today, my whole treasure hunt group decided we were going to the hospital to pray for people.

Nooooooooooo- was my internal response.

I really did not want to go, especially because before that decision was made we were assigned to dare our teammates to do something that scared them. Guess what mine was… That’s right, approach someone and ask if I could pray for their healing. In public. Gah. 

Not an easily avoided dare when you are walking around a hospital of all places.

My leader David and I had just entered the main hallway of the hospital when two older women stopped ten feet in front of us and asked if we were from Bethel. I honestly was so shocked that my mouth hung open while my brain tried to figure out if it was safe to admit the truth.

Finally I stammered yes and silently prayed that these ladies’ last interaction with a Bethel student was a positive one. They both immediately brightened and implored us to pray for the healing of one of them as she was about to head into surgery for her shoulder. 

It was the most natural thing in the world to take her hand in mine and release the goodness of the kingdom of heaven and declare the miraculous power of God. She wasn’t currently in pain so she couldn’t immediately give us feedback on her condition but I believe that she went into her appointment and astonished the surgeons with the finished work of the cross.

Let me tell you, it is not always that natural or that easy for me. But I’m beginning to think that it’s not because trusting the Holy Spirit and walking in the supernatural fulfillment of the great commission is inherently difficult. I think I might be the one making it complicated.

What a relief :)