torah

If you and I were to sit down and talk, get to know each other for just a bit, it wouldn’t be too long before you learned that I love the Old Testament. More specifically I love the Pentateuch. Those first five books of the Bible, and Deuteronomy in particular, they have my heart. I had the opportunity to take an intensive class on Deuteronomy this year, and in that short week I fell more in love with Torah. Here is a small glimpse into why I love Torah.

Imagine all of Israel encamped on the eastern side of the Jordan River.

Moses stands before them, his arms spread wide, as he recounts for them their parents’ exodus from Egypt and subsequent rebellion when they were first invited into the Promised Land.

The story is familiar, but each Israelite listens intently as Moses reminds them of the punishment they and their parents endured at the hand of Adonai. And Moses reminds them that throughout the entire journey, a journey which should have taken eleven days but instead took forty years, God was with them, providing for their every need each and every step of the way.

I'm writing over at Deeper Church today. Head over there to read the rest of this post.

Israel Cries Out To The Lord

This is the fourth post in a five part series. It is inspired by the Book of Judges and my studies of that book. Posts will appear here and on A Deeper Church.

Read the first post.

Read the second post.

Read the third post.

“But the Israelites said to the Lord, ‘We have sinned. Do with us whatever you think best, but please rescue us now.’”

Can you hear them, the cries of Israel, can you hear them?

Crying out in the clefts and caves of the mountains in which they have taken refuge from their oppressors.

Sobbing prayers of longing for the days their ancestors wandered in the desert, homeless, but with God.

Muttering words of the Lord’s slow anger and abounding love in hopes that He might show Himself to be those things as they find themselves enslaved in a land that was supposed to be theirs.

How long before these cries and prayers and muttered words passed through Hebrew lips did these same Hebrews realize their distance from the One who called them to be set apart?

Days? Weeks? Months? Years?

Decades?

Were the compromises big from the beginning? Was their turning from Him one giant step at a time? Or did they start small?

Does it matter how big or small the compromises were?

Does it matter how far away from Him they turned?

Does it matter how big or small our compromises are?

Does it matter how far away from Him we turn?

To do anything but directly face God is to face something else entirely.

And the more we turn away, the longer it takes for us to realize we are no longer looking directly at Him.

A glimpse of Him in our periphery is not a life focused on the Lord.

And then suddenly, like Israel, we cry out. We realize He has passed outside of our field of vision. Unsure of which way to turn, for Him who is to guide us is no longer visible, and so we cry out.

We cry out in hopes that He will be faithful to answer even though we have been unfaithful in our turning away.

We cry out in hopes that we will be rescued, as Israel was, again from our sin, again from our turning, again from our idolatry.

We cry out.

Does it matter how big or small our steps away from God are?

same teams

I am talking with friends about the Church, about the divisions in the Body, about the way the fighting and yelling causes me to mourn.

I begin to marvel at the fact that, even with all this fighting, somehow the Spirit still calls out to itself in each one of us, pulling us back to each other.

It is like dodgeball.

We’ve been divided into teams, and we are pressed against the back walls on opposite sides of the gym.

A members from each team stand closer to the middle, rubber balls in hand, waiting for someone to run forward, look away for a second, throw their ball and leave themselves momentarily defenseless.

Meanwhile those already out stand on the sideline cheering, waiting for a ball to be thrown, waiting for the impossible catch which sends the thrower out of the game.

Here, on the internet, we stand, divided into our different teams. A few well known names, and well known posts position themselves closer to the middle, ready to defend the rest of the team.

Occasionally someone darts forward to grab a stray ball, to lob it over to the other side. But mostly we just let those in the middle fire back and forth assuming they are the ones who will win it for us anyway.

What I notice is the way we keep running forward.

The ways we cheer and jeer from the sidelines.

We cheer from the sidelines because we want to be right. We want to win. We want our voice heard last and loudest.

We jeer because we are afraid. We are afraid of being wrong. We are afraid of losing.

But winning or losing is not the point.

And this is where the metaphor breaks down. Because we don’t just run forward to win, to get someone from the other side out.

Sometimes we do. Sometimes we run forward because they ran forward, and we hope in running, in lobbing a ball on their side, it will take them out of the game.

But sometimes we run forward because the Spirit says to run.

Because the Spirit that pulls you forward is the same Spirit that pulls me forward.

Because that Spirit is the same in me as it is in you. It may speak and make itself known differently in me than it does in you, but it cries out to itself from me to you in a way that draws us to one another.

If we stopped for just a minute we would notice that we are all dressed in the same jerseys. We are all playing for the same team.

We all have different roles on this team.

But we are on the same team.

Our shouts should be shouts of victory.

Because this win we are all fighting for? We’ve already got the “W.”

God has already won this battle.

He won it all those years ago on the cross, and when He did He called us together, to this one team, to this one Body, by this one Spirit.

I am on your team. I want to be on your team.

God Disciplined Israel for their Disobedience

“…and for seven years he gave them into the hands of the Midianites. Because the power of Midian was so oppressive the Israelites prepared shelters for themselves in mountain clefts, caves and strongholds. Whenever the Israelites planted their crops, the Midianites, Amalekites and other eastern peoples invaded the country. They camped on the land and ruined the crops all the way to Gaza and did not spare a living thing for Israel, neither sheep nor cattle nor donkeys. They came up with their livestock and their tents like swarms of locusts. It was impossible to count the men and their camels; they invaded the land to ravage it.”

Consequences.

Discipline.

Israel did not like the discipline of the Lord. They ran from it, hid from it in mountain clefts, caves, and strongholds.

The rest of the post appears on A Deeper Church. Head over there to read the post in its entirety.

Israel Did Evil in the Eyes of the Lord

This is the second post in a five part series. It is inspired by the Book of Judges and my studies of that book. Posts will appear here and on A Deeper Church. You can read the first post here.

“The Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord; they forgot the Lord their God and served the Baals and the Asheras.”

The Book of Judges reads like a downward spiral, with each revolution marked by some variation of the phrase, “again the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord.”

Each time it gets worse.

Each time the person leading the people of Israel gets worse.

Each time it is worse because they have turned more fully away from the Lord.

What was their evil?

It was a violation of covenant. A violation of an agreement with the Most Holy God. The One who brought them out of Egypt, out of slavery. The One who removed them from under the hand of their oppressors. The One who drove out those who would oppress Israel so that they might receive the land of their inheritance.

It was a violation to love the Lord their God and serve Him only. It was bowing down to other gods, to idols made, sometimes from their own hands, instead of the One True God.

It was prostitution of self for the purpose of self-indulgence at the cost of true identity, at the cost of the relationship that mattered most.

I do not have idols of metal, wood, or stone.

But that does not mean I do not have idols.

I do not prostitute myself to Baal.

But that does not mean I do not attempt to sell myself off to the lowest bidder, to the cheapest thrill or hope of love, forsaking the greatest love readily available and freely given in the hope of something that feels a little easier.

Our idols are not the idols of Israel during the time of the Judges. But that does not mean we do not serve idols of our own making, idols of this time, today.

The evil we do in the eyes of the Lord may look different on the surface than the evil of Israel, but the cost is the same. Each choice we make to choose ourselves over Him is a step away from Him and toward the worship of self; the worship of what each one of us sees fit to do.

What calls you from your worship of the Lord?

What tries to promise an easier love than the love available to you in Christ?

Everyone did as he saw fit

I close my Bible and push it across the coffee shop’s small table as far away from me as I can. The ugliness hangs around me, the depravity. I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to clear the images from the last chapters of Judges from my mind.

Gang rape. Murder. Brother turning against brother. More murder. More rape.

This is the Word of Lord?

[Thanks be to God.]

I'm starting a new series based on my study of the book of Judges. You can find the rest of this post over at A Deeper Church.

unique and unrepeatable

Each one of us is a unique and unrepeatable miracle of God’s grace.

But I do not always feel like a unique and unrepeatable miracle of God’s grace. More often I behave as though God puts up with me because He made me and now He is stuck with me.

I'm posting over at Deeper Story today. You can read the rest of the post there.

hold me

Tonight the longing for Home is thick, catching in my throat as I try to swallow.

Tears well up suddenly, and I am caught off guard.

Tonight I feel the fragility of this life. Tonight I feel His hand around my heart, causing each and every beat.

As air fills my lungs I taste the breath He blows into my nostrils and feel it rush down my throat.

I wonder how this skin, stretched thin over bone and muscle, does not tear. Tonight it feels so thin, barely the protective barrier it is intended to be.

And I am reminded that each beat, each breath is Yours, is by Your will.

This skin protects me because You wrap Yourself around me, because You keep me from harm.

Hold me closer.

Hold me tighter.

fabulous friday video goodness—waiting

Well received and much needed encouragement.

Perhaps, like many you've already seen this.
< br /> Or, perhaps, like me, this was brand new.

Either way, I hope you enjoy the beautiful way truth pours from this woman's mouth.

fabulous friday video goodness: the david video

Rather than a music video, today I have a thought provoking, beautiful video.



After watching, take a second to read about the making of the video and visit the illustrator, Annie Ludes's blog.

what is enough?

Twenty-nine students, seven leaders, sleeping bags, pillows, sleeping pads, and tents for all, plus food, games, and firewood. All crammed into five cars and one small U-Haul trailer. Seasoned graduated seniors stood in a group sharing playlists and games they’d brought for the car ride. Incoming freshmen scampered back and forth between parents, each other, and leaders asking various forms of the same question, “when are we leaving?”

Fully packed and ready to go, I went back and forth between church buildings and the car I would drive all week. Shoes and sandals, shorts, sunscreen, bathing suit, more shorts, a sweatshirt, and more sunscreen? Check. My Bible, my journal, a pen, my pillow, and my sleeping pad? Check. Snacks, a water bottle, and directions to the campground? Check.

Feeling one hundred percent prepared as we sat around the campfire that first night my friend, mentor, and the pastor to students looked at each of us and asked, “What is the point? Why are you here?”

I'm posting over at Deeper Story today, and you can read the rest of the post there.

worth reading 08.12.11

Amid the whirlwind of returning from vacation, preparing to leave for our annual high school youth group rafting trip, catching up with friends, and running around like a chicken with her head cut off because I get to give Lauren a REAL hug TODAY, I managed to read through some of the blogs I missed while on vacation. People may say that summer is a time full of lazy days, but I think the authors on this week's list missed the memo about taking it easy. Holy smokes...

1. A few of the bloggers whose words I read and hearts I love had the opportunity to go to Bolivia with World Vision. Their posts have been amazing. Nish's re-entry post hit me hard as I imagined her in the supermarket in southern Oregon overwhelmed by choice, seeing the world through a new filter. I watched tearfully through Joy's eyes as she learned Wilfrem's story and the difference his World Vision sponsor made in his life and the life of his family. And my heart echos Elizabeth Esther's cries, Father forgive me for I did not know.
2. I have the privilege of being friends with AND doing ministry with this first amazing woman. She has a beautiful, honest heart for the Lord, and isn't afraid of loving big in the midst of mess. Her thoughts on grace are lovely and soul soothing. As an added bonus, Lindsay is also a major threat on the ultimate frisbee field.
3. I read Jon Acuff's Serious Wednesday Post on the the search for joy. His words have me considering what things I have used / am using as joy props. "Because I already have a savior. That role has been filled."
4. As I've been packing for five days in hot, sunny, beautiful southern Oregon, I come back to the question of the appropriateness of what I'll be wearing. I loved the conversation Ally started earlier this week, and her follow up post. It is a hard topic, and one that both frustrates and challenges me. Read what she has to say, and add your thoughts to the discussion.
5. Alright. Preston Yancey is killing it. Again. Dude's bombing around the UK and still finds time to speak truth into darkness. He wrote a guest post for the Good Women Project about what a woman's role is in a man's fight against porn. My dear sisters, be encouraged, because "pornography has nothing to do with the real, present woman in the equation." My dear brothers you "have a Savior. The only way a man overcomes pornography is by wrestling through it with Jesus." Be encouraged, your Savior fights for you.
6. After months of traveling and a love that has taken her across the country, Lauren processes her Los Angeles induced identity crisis. More than who you think you should be, more than who you think you are, who does God say you are?
7. Holy. Smokes. This post ROCKED ME. As I cut and paste the link into this post I am sitting at my desk asking myself, and really asking God, why I don't have certain things. "The question is: how can I glorify God with what I do have? Not, how can I get what I want, but how can I enhance God's reputation as a great king by what I do with what he gave me?" Lord, let this be my heart.
8. Forgiveness. Not for myself, but for others. This post of Joy's spoke hard Truth to my heart this week. "When I can forgive my persecutors and desire for God to forgive them without giving them their due…then I have truly forgiven." WHAT? Fo' realz this is good stuff.
9. While Joy was gallivanting about England, her friend Erin put together a guest post for her. As I read it I thought, "oh my heart, I know exactly how you feel," while I was reminded that TRUST is what He asks of me, and He is worthy of my trust. All the time. Always.

more faithful than the morning

The sky burned red and gold, clear and fuzzy all at once. Maybe it was my early morning eyes. Maybe it was Him whispering, “Good morning, beloved.”

It’s been so cold here this summer. Empty hands and quiet houses full of only the noises I make.

I’ve spent the summer missing other noises and familiar hands.

I’ve spent the summer longing for different noises and new hands.

But this morning, when the sky was on fire and it seemed like He and I were the only two awake, I felt His faithfulness wrap me up, pull me closer.

This morning when the sun shone bright, shades of spun honey and molten lava all at once, I remembered that I am the one who changes, that I am the one who is inconsistent.

He stands steadfast, ever faithful.

More faithful than the morning.