Men of the Master

My brother attends a Christian camp every summer called Deerfoot Lodge, located in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. Every month during the year he also receives a newsletter from Deerfoot that is addressed to “Men of the Master.” I love that phrase. It describes men who love the Lord and serve Him as Master. I have been blessed and privileged to encounter several of those men here in Wisconsin. These are men that are unashamed of their love for Him and bear His image in the midst of their own brokenness. I am drawn to the Holy Spirit in them and I always come away encouraged. Godliness is such an attractive quality, but it's a kind of quality that pushes me away from depending on them to wanting to grow deeper in my own walk with the Lord. Yet it is such a blessing to have them walk beside me. Men that love the Lord have a slice of God’s glory within them that is foreign to me as a woman. And I think that in the same sense, women have a slice of the glory of the Lord within them that is different than what the men have. Romans chapter 12:9-13 says,

“Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.”

This passage just reminds me that we are to be brothers and sisters in Christ, striving to show honor to one another in the name of the Lord. Because I am a girl I am used to living within the context of women and seeing the ways that they love the Lord, but there’s something that stands out to me when men genuinely love the Lord and “contribute to the needs of the saints” no matter what others say or think. These men are hard to come by, because even in our Christian circles there is a lot of temptation for men to compete with one another or to just stay in comfortable silence. But something in my heart just melts when I see "men of the Master" that go beyond just their duties and fully embody the power of the Gospel in their lives. There is a sense of Biblical manhood that these men are grounded in. They have a certain strength about them that comforts me and inspires me to run harder towards my Master.

It is the Lord Christ you are serving

More thoughts on stubbornness:

I forgot to mention in yesterday’s post that the reason I was thinking through all that is because InterVarsity likes to impose lots of rules and structures. A lot of these are good and I have learned to see the value in them and have intentionally tried to invite the Holy Spirit to soften my heart towards these structures. Even still my heart is sinful and rebellious. There was a point this week when we were being asked to participate in something that to me, felt like a waste of time. I was anxious and starting to verbally complain when the Spirit began to prick my own spirit that I needed to bend my heart. So I went away for a little bit and spent some time in the Lord’s presence. I love that He lets me come to Him just as I am- with all of my anxiety and strong-willed thinking. I was telling Him how I didn’t want to do this activity and that I didn’t even like it or the person asking me to do it, and He interrupted me and just said, “but Linds, you love ME.” He said it so lovingly and so simply and I was humbled. He was calling me to obedience simply because of His character and my love for Him. He has called me to InterVarsity not for the sake of InterVarsity, but for the sake of His name and glory. And as a result, I am free to obey the structures because it is ultimately the Lord that I am serving. I was reminded of Derek Webb’s live album entitled “House Show” where he takes a moment to tell us,

“all the behavior modification in the world will never change your heart, but Jesus however, he does change our hearts.”

It’s so true. Jesus is slowly and gently changing my rebellious heart and pulling me into a deeper love for Him. I wrote this verse on the back of my nametag so I would be daily reminded of my submission to the Lord above all else:

“Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything; and do it, not only when their eye is on you and to win their favor, but with sincerity of heart and reverence for the Lord. Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” Colossians 3:22-24

Amen. It is the Lord Christ I am serving- may it always be.

Wrestling

I’ve been learning quite a few things here in Wisconsin this week; probably none of them having to do with what is being taught. But as we end these last few days of Orientation for New Staff, I’m going to try to post the things I’ve been processing.

I like structure. My own structure. I do not like being asked to conform to someone else’s rules unless I deeply respect the person who is asking. This is a problem, especially being involved in a highly structured organization like InterVarsity. There are some rules and traditions that I don’t agree with and I find myself wondering why everyone else just seems to blindly follow them. Cynthia Tobias, a learning styles expert and a favorite author of mine says,

“It can be said that we use our strong wills almost as often as we breathe. It is so deeply ingrained in us we often struggle to understand why everyone doesn’t share the depth and strength of our convictions.”

Although she uses pretty words like “depth” and “strength of conviction”, to anyone else my strong will looks like rebellion and stubbornness. The fact that I will fight to the death before surrendering my hard-won independence is lost on many well-meaning authority figures in my life. I look normal. I look obedient. They all too quickly realize that if they want my obedience they have to fight hard to win my respect. There are probably only three people in my life who have earned the right to demand my utter obedience at any moment- my dad, my pastor, and my God. My dad has the gentlest heart of anyone I know- His graciousness and generosity won my heart from day one. He is still the only guy I know that can bring me to tears as I am reminded of the depth of his character. My pastor, who used to be my staff worker, fought through two years of my doubting and resistance before I trusted him and submitted to his leadership. His own strong-will and absolute devotion to the Lord gave me a model for my own walk. Then there’s the Lord, who is the only one who will ever understand me completely. He loves my tears, giggles, struggles, and even strong-will, more than anyone I know. It is because of His indelible grace even in the midst of my total depravity that draws my heart to Him. My independent and rebellious heart fights Him on many things, but in the end I can do nothing but bow before His throne in reverence. I am thankful that He allows me to wrestle with Him, and I am even more thankful that He always wins.

God is good

I searched the Fund Development Manual up and down. There is no section called “what to say when someone receives your letter on the day their spouse dies but they still want to talk to you and support you.” I was literally headed out the door to meet my friend Evan at Panera and then go to Busch Gardens for a mindless day of screaming on roller coasters (they actually make me laugh more than they make me scream, but that's another story). I checked the weather one last time, grabbed my wallet, and started to reach for the door when my cell phone rang. It was a number I didn't recognize so I let it go. And then I kicked myself, realizing that of course I'd be getting calls from numbers I don't recognize because I put my number on my staff letter. With a silent vow to be more professional and pick up all calls from now on, I punched in the password for my voicemail. It was a message that shook me to the core and something I will always remember as proof of God's sweet Sovereignty and intimate Grace. It was a message from an old friend of the family saying that she received my letter on the day her husband had passed away but she was so touched to receive my letter and be reminded that the work of the Lord was continuing in other aspects and different areas. She wanted to support me. My first thought was, who reads their mail on the day the their spouse dies? And secondly, who but someone filled with the Holy Spirit would decide to give financial support, even in the midst of facing leftover medical bills, hospital bills, funeral costs, and the distinct knowledge that at age 60 she would have to support herself for the rest of her life.

Now, I need to explain to you a little bit about her husband Bert. As a boy he grew up with a deep love for both swimming and painting. One afternoon at age 15, he dove off a dock and accidentally landed in shallow water. The result was a spinal cord injury and total paralysis from the neck down. He would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. As time passed there was some physical improvement in the use of his arms and trunk balance, but not the use of legs or fingers. During this time Bert learned how to strap a pen or paint brush into the palm of his hand so he could write or paint, and he was able to re-discover his childhood talent. The above picture is the very first one he painted after his accident. The sad clown perfectly captures his attitude. He was so funny and full of life before the accident, and though tragic and hard, the accident only subdued his smile. He continued in his art work, met his wife, Marlene (who was working with Young Life Special Education) , and continued in deep love for the Lord despite his many hardships. Marlene and Bert were an amazing team, though Bert needed constant supervision and help with even the smallest activities. To get the phone call from Marlene that he had passed away was such a shock to me. As she said herself during the memorial, "everyone always says 'Bert and Marlene' and now it's just 'Marlene' and I feel as if a part of myself is missing." I quickly scribbled down a line from the song that was sung as the mourners walked into the memorial service... "Be at rest for the Lord has been good." God is good. That was the premise of this memorial service? Here is the death of an amazing woman's husband, the loss of a son, the loss of a friend and example to many, but wait a minute, we're supposed to say, "hallelujah, God is good"?

Lately I've been coming to terms with the fact that God's glory doesn't always look like what I think it should look like. I would think He'd want to show off His goodness in flowers and cotton candy and shiny pretty things. And He does, but for the most part He chooses what is foolish in this world. He shows His goodness through things like fires, paralysis, and broken hearts. As Robin Wells says,

"God's grace is undeserved. Whatever He calls us to, and whatever He brings into our lives, the good is more than we deserve and the hardships are less."

It just doesn't make sense sometimes. How do we grapple with a God who will take away good things so that He will get more glory? Isn't that selfish? Jonathan Edwards tells us that His own glory is not a dignity too great for Him, moreover, "it is fit that His will should take place, though contrary to the will of all other beings; that He should make Himself His own end; and order all things for Himself." As I think about it more and more, any being that didn't demand His own glory as a natural outflow of His character would not be worthy of my worship. And through Bert's life and even through His death, the glory of the Lord was revealed as he learned to live through his handicap and as he continually shared joy with others. I love that his wife wants to support me because I am thoroughly looking forward to building a deeper relationship with her and learning more from her about the sacrifices she made and the life that she and her husband lived for the glory of the Lord. The night Bert passed away one of his friends wrote this song:

"A man once wheeled himself along these sanctuary aisles
And sang in richest tones of our God's grace
Though his limbs had long since turned from tool to trials
He fixed His eyes and ran the race

And now somewhere beyond this Earth he stands before a throne
And sings a song of never-ending praise
With arms raised to the God who carried him when strength was gone
Bert runs in Heaven, home at last, today."

After knowing his life, after knowing his struggles, after knowing his death, I really can say, "God is good." His goodness doesn't always look exactly the way I think it should, but it is there all the same. As I continue towards this dream of going on staff, I am thankful for the provision of supporters whose lives are so deeply wounded by the hand of the Lord that they have been privileged to see and to know that His mercies are new every single morning. They know what it is to hurt and they know what it is to rely completely on the compassion of the Lord. I want to understand with them that, "though He brings grief, He will show compassion, so great is His unfailing love" (Lamentations 3:32).

This last quote is from a book called, "A Severe Mercy", that describes the beauty and difficulty of God Sovereignty. This specific poem from the book is a reminder that God is great, His faithfulness is great, and that He is everything we need in this world.

"If everything is lost, thanks be to God
If I must see it go, watch it go,
watch it fade away, die
Thanks be to God that He is all I have
And if I have Him not, I have nothing at all
If all is lost, thanks be to God
For He is He, and I, I am only I."

Intent Cards

Along with my letter for IV I also sent each person two things. One, a business reply envelope that can be sent to IV headquartes with a donation. And two, an "intent" card to be sent back to me that would indicate how they are supporting me(prayer, money, etc.) or if they want to be taken off my mailing list.

Today I got my first two intent cards back. The first one was from an old friend of the family- he very neatly printed his name and then double checked the box that said "please take me off your list" and added a few exclamation points to the end of that sentence. In the space left open for an email address, this family friend wrote "Do not have one- I am 83 years old." I just laughed out loud and thanked the Lord for honest people. I mean if you're going to say no, you might as well say no with an emphasis!

My second intent card was from another old friend of the family. He also very neatly printed his name and then wrote that he would like to pray regularly for me and support me with $10 a month. This gift just melted my heart. Here is an old man (probably 83 or even older) who lives by himself and doesn't have a whole lot of money but has a generous heart that delights in sharing. It probably made his day to get a letter in the mail that wasn't a bill or some presorted advertising flyer. That's the kind of people I want to partner with in this ministry. People that I can bless through sharing with them how the Lord is working and people that can bless me through supporting me.

I love old people. I love the mean and bitter ones because I feel like they have a right to be that way, but I also love the kind-hearted ones that don't have to be kind to you but do it because it's in their nature. I hope when I'm 83 I will be the kind that gives away what little I have. Especially because in this moment I've never been more grateful for $10 a month.

Enough-ness

Enough. That word is the source of my heart’s deepest wound and greatest struggles. Are you enough? Am I enough? Will there be enough? I would have been that disciple that declared to Jesus “Send the crowds away… we have here only five loaves of bread and two fish” (Matthew 14). Jesus, there is not enough, send the people away.

And if I wasn’t a disciple then I would have been one of the families that I’m sure left before the miracle was performed. I would have realized it was dinner time, and seeing that the disciples did not have enough for everyone, I would have gathered my children and left. Come on kids, there’s not enough here, we’ll go find our own supper. I wonder if anyone did that. And I wonder if Jesus saw them leave, His heart saddened by their lack of trust in His enough-ness. They didn’t trust that His teaching was worth an empty stomach, and their hearts weren’t secure enough to dream that maybe He would see their need for food and provide enough for them. They missed a miracle. And really, Scripture does not tell us that there were a few families who snuck off instead of waiting there until Jesus fed them, but I just know that if the feeding of the 5,000 happened at CNU, I would have been the kid that left, skeptical and independent, before the miracle even occurred.

As I think about fundraising and how much I have to raise and the struggles that I am going through and inevitably will hit, I return to my heart's favorite question. "Will You be enough?" Are You really sure You can handle me? I'm going to be scared and messy and confused, are You really bigger, are You really everything I'll ever need?

The other day I took one of my last trips to Lion's Bridge, my sanctuary from life since freshman year. I was sitting on my favorite tree by the river realizing that this place has held four years of boys, leadership, studying for tests, relaxing, pictures with my favorites, sunsets, and time with the Lord. I was watching two heron fly over the water, just fifteen feet in front of me and I wondered how there could be a place better than this- so rich in beauty and memories and security. And I was thinking about staff and how I will have to move home in a few days and then move to JMU next year and then Lord willing, move on to a permanent placement. And it all seemed like so much uncertainty and my heart asked again, "Lord, will You be enough?" And he answered me through one of my favorite songs, Still Voices, by P.W.Gopal. In the song, a girl named Mary asks the same question and the response is,

"Mary, you can't keep this up.
Would you sit still?
And let me whisper you My will.
My still voice, it begs...
"I’ll hold you, love you, I am your Daddy, Mary
I’ll lead you, dance so close to you, just call me Daddy
I made you, kept you, I am your Portion
I’ll hold you, love you, I am your Daddy
…I am your Daddy"

That day sitting on the tree by the river, I heard God sigh and say, "Linds, seriously? I have rescued you so many times before, please just believe I WILL do it again. You can't keep questioning me. I am faithful and you know it, won't you please just rest in that knowledge? When will you stop clamoring and just sit still to hear the comfort of my gentle whisper? Quit trying to be independent, do not be too prideful to let me in, because I am your Portion."

And all I can say in response to that is Hallelujah that my God is big enough to know me better than I know myself and speak to me in the depths of my greatest fear and greatest sin. And He does not speak with condemnation, no, He speaks with a longing to set me free from the bondage I create for myself. If that is not "enough" then I have no hope. But it is MORE than enough, in all things. And THAT is love. And love so amazing, so divine, DEMANDS my soul, my life, my all.