All Stirred Up

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. (Hebrews 10:24-25)

I came across the verse on accident yesterday. A verse-of-the-day that pops up on my phone led me to Hebrews 10, but not this verse. As it turns out, there are a lot of great verses in Hebrews 10. I'll need to spend more time here in the near future. So, I sort of happenstansically fell into this verse (though I doubt that much with God is ever true happenstance), and it's been on my heart since I found it. 

Tonight, as I sat in a Greek Council meeting with representatives from most of the fraternities and sororities on campus, the conversation turned to an upcoming event that has been an (albeit less than stellar) historic tradition on campus. For the last few years, I've watched them come together, formulate some sort of lack luster plan, and then haphazardly attempt to execute it during Homecoming Week. This year, the leadership took a different approach. They came to the meeting pumped for the event, with a few crazy ideas that they'd love to see. And a funny thing happened. The room came alive. Students were talking over each other, laughing, coming up with crazy ideas, asking how far they could push the limits of possibility... They had become stirred up. They began encouraging one another, pushing each other to produce a better event. And they ended up more excited than I had seen any of them yet this year. 

The other day, I started talking with my boss about long term plans and the new building being built on campus and my place in it all. I later apologized for getting so tied up in possibilities or limitations, but my boss thanked me. In my strange combination of frustration and excitement for the future, he noted that he had felt a renewed sense of urgency and passion for projects that he had maybe not been pushing hard enough on yet this year. His heart was stirred up, encouraged to action, by my passion. 

This weekend, Derrick and I got in a stupid tiff about nothing, but in it's own way, it stirred us both up and got us communicating in a way that we really needed to. 

When things get stirred up, they aren't left the same. They can't be left the same. The trajectory is changed. The storyline is altered. There are lots of ways that people get stirred up. Stirred up to anger, to passion, to excitement, to action. Attitudes are contagious, for good and bad. Hebrews 10:24-25 reminds us that we need to stir each other up every now and again, stir each other toward love and good works. We are to encourage each other. We're not supposed to just let the story lie there on its own. No, we're supposed to change the trajectory, jolt people back to life through passion and gifts and action, stirring them up. This week has been a great reminder of all of the ways we get stirred up and all of the ways that I want to intentionally stir up the people around me. And I look forward to being stirred up all the more by those around me, encouraging me toward good and love. 

Time to get stirring, people! 

Faith to Move Mountains

"For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you." Matthew 17:20

Some days, I feel like I'm standing at the base of the proverbial mountain discussed in the book of Matthew, shouting at the top of my lungs, "Mountain! Move! Get out of the way." And to God, "God, I believe you can move this mountain. But it's not even trembling. It's not moving, God. Why?" 

Oh, He could move that mountain. He without a doubt could pick it on up, turn it on it's tiny little peak-side, and set it down in perfect balance somewhere else as proof of His ability to do the most impossible of things. Or He could smash it into a million pieces in front of me as a testimony to His great strength and power. He could make that mountain do a jig or roll it out flat like a red carpet or part it down the middle like the Red Sea. 

Not only could God do any of these things, sometimes He indeed does. And oh, how we praise Him for the miracle He produces in front of us. And then we walk on over or around that mountain and go on with our lives. I move on in life, impressed and thankful, but perhaps otherwise unchanged. Yep, sometimes God moves mountains. But what about the times when I'm standing there shouting at that stupid mountain in legitimate faith that God can move it and He doesn't? Is He ignoring my cries? No, He knows me too well. He knows that I need to learn and grow lest I miss the miracle. So instead of just moving the mountain, He is holding out His hand and asking me to move it with Him. One stone at a time. 

So I pick up one stone. It feels heavy in my hands. But God stays beside me. I walk it off the mountain and place it on the ground. Then I go back for another. And another. And He stays by me. When I get tired and sit down for a rest, He's still there. When I get frustrated by the assignment, He doesn't give up on me. And one by one, the stones begin to come down, and with each stone, I gain strength, maybe a little more understanding. I learn to move stones and listen to God at the same time because He's stayed by my side. I keep trusting, keep learning, keep growing. And then one day, I look up and the path is clear, the mountain is gone. 

But that's not where I am today. I know that day will come. But today, I'm at the base of that big old mountain, the one I've shouted at for so long, with one cold heavy rock in my arms, knowing that this will not be easy, but God is still good. And this mountain will move. 

Praying when you don't know exactly what you're praying for...

Umm.....uh....well, I guess... Okay, so... Sigh. 

Look, I don't really know what to say here. I don't know even really how I'm supposed to feel. You've brought me to this place, I have not doubt about that. You unsettled me, shook me up, in ways that only You could know I needed, and now here I am. Sort of confused, but not really panicked. Sort of frustrated, but not really angry either. Am I just supposed to keep trusting, God? Things aren't really any clearer than than were before. I guess, well, I guess I'll just keep hanging on.

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What happens when you know you need to pray but you have no earthly clue what exactly you're praying for? Lately, in a battle of trust with God, I have found myself stuttering and stammering around without much direction of my own. But I'm beginning to think that maybe God's getting me right where He wants me. My pride is being stripped away, one situation at a time, and I'm left with my arms in the air wondering what's next, completely clueless. 

In these moments, who can I rely on? Who can I turn to? Certainly no one around me has answers for me. When the path is dark, and I'm not sure if the ground is going to be under my feet, the only thing I can really do is look up, take a deep breath, and cling to the hope that I know God knows what He's doing. 

Romans 8:26-27 reminds me that it's okay to not have words. 

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

 This has happened to others. I am not the only one who has been speechless at the throne of God, as I wait for His will to be done. And through my speechlessness, through my blabbering random ramblings that don't make much sense, the Holy Spirit, who knows my heart, not only speaks on my behalf, but He groans without words according to the very will of God. Which is exactly what I want. Even if I don't know how to ask for it.

Choices

This morning, one of my favorite traditions at UD took place: Opening Convocation. I'm not sure what it is about convocation that I adore so much, the faculty dressed in regalia for the first time in an academic year, the choir, singing hymns with students, staff, and faculty all around... 

This year, one of my favorite professors gave the address, and it was simply titled Choices. She walked the congregation through the story of Joshua ushering God's people into the promised land by first gathering them into an assembly. He urges them to reject the gods of the people around them and serve the Lord, but that either way, it was up to each person to decide. The moral of her story was that it's not just the one life-choice of accepting Christ into your heart that is the decision to be made, but rather it is the choices we make in the everyday situations we face that turn our hearts toward God and away from other gods and idols. 

Entangled in this message was the central idea that the people were set apart, selected, to come into the promised land, and we are also chosen, set apart to serve the Lord where we have been placed. But it's still a choice. A daily choice. 

The past few weeks at work have not all been exactly spotlight weeks for reminding me of my love for UD, but today, today was a reminder that stood apart in stark contrast. As I looked up at the stage, filled with faculty and administrators, looked around at the students, the staff, I was reminded that my purpose is to be right here, right now, serving this group of people in this place. God has placed a love in my heart that allows me to pursue my purpose with a reckless, tireless abandon for His glory and for the betterment of this part of His world. My life is a part of the greater narrative, the story of the world. God equips me to work and serve out of love for Him and His creation, and He uses me as a tool in His plan for restoration in His kingdom. 

"...choose this day whom you will serve...But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."  Joshua 24:15