Beauty in the Brokenness: Reflections After a Week of Working Alongside Sacred Road Ministries

"If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong;

and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail."

{Isaiah 58:10-11}

Spending a week at the White Swan reservation in Yakima, WA, left more than a few dried splatters of paint on my arms and dirt under my nails. How can a week living and learning and loving under a 105 degree sun, holding a child grimy with dirt in your lap or slathering slate blue paint on walls and caulking cracks in between boards or singing God's praises with tens of youth or watching the interns love and care for and carry and give piggyback rides and pour themselves over the children with the most beautiful smiles that must touch the heart of God Himself not change someone? To see a ministry living and active and completely overflowing with service in the footsteps of Jesus and to see the changed lives of the children and youth and interns and the beautiful church building and the hearts of those serving. . . how could it not leave an impact on my life? 

To wake up to a beautifully arid landscape and to see Mt. Adams framing the dry landscape and finding roadkill a few miles down West Wapato Road and to arrive at church only to pack a sack lunch and head off to a wonderfully challenging day at worksite painting and roofing and building to bless the community only to arrive back in the afternoon for kids club and to hold and carry and play with the young and dirty and forgotten and yet their smiles and their beautiful, bright eyes just stay with me until we head back to rest and fellowship under the light of a golden, full moon.

When I left last week, I was filled with worry over my own life, and the pages in my journal were filled with fear and uncertainty and insecurity. I was focused on my own hardships and struggles and the little things someone said or did. But arriving at Yakima, my view of myself and God were disoriented and torn from their self-centered perspective. I had to ask myself, do I believe that God is sovereign over all this pain? Is He is control over the physical and sexual and emotional abuse of the children and the economic hardships of the families and the alcohol and drug problems and the broken hearts and uncared-for toddlers? Is He in control and active in the hurting community with mothers younger than me and children wandering around with only diapers and lice in their hair and those who are hurting, hurting in ways that I could never imagine?

And when I looked around and saw the changed lives and the love poured out on the very least, I could say yes. Yes, God is working. Yes, God is turning many towards Him through the examples of His children working faithfully to bring Him honor and praise. I saw the lives on the interns and families and those who trust in Christ, and I saw lives of joy and peace and contentment in the Lord and His work. He is in complete control over each situation, and He is so very, very good.

And if He is control of the abuse and the pain and heartache and the things that break my heart, is He not also in control of my own life? Of the little things that make me worried, of ruined to-do lists, a few hurtful words, healing friendships? Is He not holding the whole world in His hands, holding the lives of those in White Swan and holding mine as well?

Your plans are still to prosper

You have not forgotten us

You're with us in the fire and the flood

You're faithful forever

Perfect in love

You are sovereign over us

And tonight of all nights on July 4th, drunken parties and abuse and the brokenness rages on more than ever in White Swan, and as I reflect on this fact that's so, so wrong, I can't help but cry out and weep over the pain, knowing my God weeps as well. I take comfort in the fact that God's name Emmanuel means God with us, and God not only with me, but God with White Swan and each suffering child and hopeless mother and wounded father and God with Sacred Road, blessing that ministry and allowing it to blossom. God is in the pain. He hears the cry of each child, and He holds them close in His arms. But He's not just leaving the hurt as black and deep as it is, but He's working and moving, creating something glorious and hopeful and peaceful and beautiful, an oasis of joy and beauty in the midst of the blackest pain.

This week I had the chance to "come and see," and I saw. I saw brokenness, but I saw beauty. The beauty of Jesus' heart beating and His love poured out to the children and youth and adults, and I saw the beauty of changed hearts and lives of people once living in sin brought to His feet. I saw the beauty of the interns and teams and families faithfully and diligently working in the heat to love those who Jesus loves. Life is full of brokenness, but we do have a God who is sovereign over our worries and fears and a God who turns our brokenness into something beautiful to shine brightly because of the hope we have in Him. 

Although we are weeping 

Lord, help us keep sowing 

The seeds of Your Kingdom 

For the day You will reap them 

Your sheaves we will carry 

Lord, please do not tarry 

All those who sow weeping will go out with songs of joy 

The nations will say, "He has done great things!" 

The nations will sing songs of joy

And That's What Christmas Is All About: Seeing Calvary Through Smokey Mountain

Six months ago, I was halfway around the world, walking through the slums of Manila. I was walking on glass and human waste mixed with mud and mashed up food scraps and holding sticky hands in mine and feeling the sun beat down and bake all the garbage around me in an oven of heat and putrid filth. Even the air smelled polluted. And I was struggling in the midst of all this poverty to hold back tears and not stare too hard at what I was stepping on or what I was breathing in but to pray. To cry out to God above with my breaking heart and trust Him in the midst of such heartbreaking destitution. And I prayed. 

{excerpt from my journal on 6/28/2014}

These people have nothing and it breaks my heart. Really, nothing. Yet they're happy and glad to be alive. The Christians are so willing to serve and so joyful. I can't say I enjoyed it. Seeing all that poverty was heartbreaking. But it opened my eyes. I'll never forget the feeling of loving and reaching out to grimy kids with blackened bodies and sticky hands who have probably never bathed for months. Or seeing kids gnawing on bones atop a pile of trash or climbing Smokey Mountain with a grand view on top of a hill that almost looks natural, if not for the garbage and pieces of glass protruding from the dirt. It's. . .hard to find a word to describe the conditions there. It's very difficult to wrap my mind around it all without crying. Yet God is faithful.

I will always remember one little boy who stood naked from the waist down, blackened and grimy and tugging on my shirt, arms outstretched, begging to be held. A half-naked little boy. Dirty. Just wanting to be loved. And I tried to hide. I tried to say no. I tried to withdraw. His filth and nakedness repulsed me, and I wanted to shrink away and cry. Everything Western and sanitary screamed at me not to touch him.

But in that moment, I was reminded of Calvary's love. If Christ left all the glory in heaven above to live among the filth and waste of our sin, if He sacrificed everything He had for His glory and our salvation, if God Himself came to live and die among sinners in the slum of our hearts, in the depravity of our sin, how could I not love this child? How could I not give myself up and follow after the example of my Savior? If Christ died for me, how could I not love others? 

And in that moment, God taught me a precious lesson. 

Because now when I think about the incarnation of Christ and Christmas, of Christ coming down to earth and being made man, of Him leaving His heavenly throne and the riches of heaven for earth, of being born in the lowliest of places, of living among sinners who repelled Him with our wicked hearts in rebellion against Him, I think of the slums of Manila. I think of Christ, coming down to the filth of our sin and the garbage of our dark hearts, to work and live and love us. Our sin and our hearts were like garbage to Christ, like those sticky, blacked hands and that half-naked body and the human waste lying everywhere on the path. We were repulsive to Him with our thieving, lying, murderous, adulterous hearts. Yet Christ saw us in the spiritual slum of our depravity and He loved us. He loved us enough to come down and live among us, to die for our sins, that we might be freed from our bondage of sin and become adopted sons and daughters of the Most High.

And that's what Christmas is all about. How Christ came down to our level, to the spiritual equivalent of Smokey Mountain, to the filth of our hearts, for His glory and for our good. What an incredible God we have, a God so compassionate and loving and merciful, a God so patient with us in our sin and a God full of grace and blessings that we do not and cannot ever deserve. 

Lord, may we live life each day in light of all that You are and all that You've done.

Reflections Over a Cup of Tea: Identity Crisis and Isaiah 43

I'm a junior. 

And some days I struggle with my identity. 

There are days when I roll out of bed, and I wonder if I am worth more than what I do, what I wear, what people think of me. 

Because life is crazy hectic between school and karate and driving places and learning things and getting decent grades and checkmarks in speech and debate. Crammed full of taking and prepping for all those three letter tests. And suddenly, everyone has figured out colleges and careers and majors, while balancing relationships and a healthy social life on the side.

Am I worth more than a good SAT score?

Am I still worth something if I'm not dating a guy, if I don't know what college I want to go to, if I can't keep up a 4.0 GPA? 

It's so difficult. When there's pressure from all areas of life to conform and be popular and wear the right things and listen to the right music and get asked out by guys. Years have passed, and it's still the same basic struggle. The battle to not fall back into depression or a low self-image, but to wake up and live without always feeling horrible about myself. The desperate fight to find my worth and value and identity, not because of who I am or what I can do or what other people think of me, but as a daughter of the King who sent His Son down to earth to redeem this broken heart, so I now have worth and value and identity because I am cloaked in His love and grace and strength and peace. 

I know all this by heart now. I've said these same things to myself for ages, as long as I can remember. Yet, truly believing these things with heart and soul and mind doesn't come easily.

Lord, help my unbelief.

I turn to Isaiah 43 and its words wash over me, overwhelm me, comfort me.

"But now thus says the Lord,
he who created you, O Jacob,
    he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
    I have called you by name, you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
    and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
    and the flame shall not consume you.
3 For I am the Lord your God,
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
I give Egypt as your ransom,
    Cush and Seba in exchange for you.
4 Because you are precious in my eyes,
    and honored, and I love you,
I give men in return for you,
    peoples in exchange for your life.
5 Fear not, for I am with you;
    I will bring your offspring from the east,
    and from the west I will gather you.
6 I will say to the north, Give up,
    and to the south, Do not withhold;
bring my sons from afar
    and my daughters from the end of the earth,
7 everyone who is called by my name,
    whom I created for my glory,
    whom I formed and made.”

I am precious and honored and loved and cherished by the Creator of the universe. Nothing, no one can remove me from the unfailing, constant, irreplaceable love of God.

I bear His name, and through the turbulence of life, I do not walk alone.

I wish I could say reading Isaiah 43 entirely replaced my doubt and insecurity with trust in God. But in all honesty, I can't. I'm just a sinner trying to renew my mind with the truth of God's Word, and it really is a constant, daily struggle, and sometimes I do feel discouraged and not worth much. However, I'm just so grateful that we have a God who is patient with us in our stubbornness, who works through our unbelief that we might truly see and know and understand His amazing love for us. That in everything, through all of life's ups and downs, He loves me, forever and always. We serve an amazing God. 

{Safety is found only in His sovereignty, security in His love, and satisfaction in His presence.}

May I find my security in Him.

When 490 Seems Too Big

70 times 7. 

1. 

And I stare at that number one. I stare, until that single digit is tattooed onto my brain. I stare, hoping if I stare enough and grasp the simplicity of the digit, forgiveness will become easier in the process, and my bitter heart will be able to open up and truly love those I despise. 

But some days, forgiving even once seems impossible. For when there is so much anger and hurt and bitterness, how can I simply embrace someone who caused me so much pain and regret? How can I forgive mistakes and inconsiderations and words?

Lord, how can I forgive? 

How can I forgive the simplest of mistakes, the slightest of inconsiderations, the shortest of words? And if I cannot even forgive the little things, how can I pardon the big things? The thick scars upon my heart that prevent me from forgiveness. The words said to me that I've never shared with anyone, words that still cause tears, and with them, anger. 

Yet, in my bitterness, I cannot justify myself entirely. I think upon the words I've said, the deeds I've done. Those words are inscribed upon my heart too, words that hurt many and still bring me the deepest shame. My actions fall short also, actions full of insensitivity and blunt cruelty. 

My finger strokes the surface of my heart and comes away grimy. 

But in this depressing pit of anger and hatred, my thoughts move beyond me to Christ. He never wronged anyone, yet the world wronged Him. And though we acted towards Him in hostility, bitterness, and hatred, He dealt with us in unconditional love, leading ultimately to His death on the cross. Despite the pain we caused Him, Christ died for us. And because Christ died for us, so we must also forgive, for the entirety of our debt has been paid in full. 

So 490. A huge number. 

But say we've sinned 10 times a day. 
10 times 365 times about 17 years. 
That equals 62,050.
I've sinned a minimum of 62,050 times in my lifetime. 

If Christ has forgiven me more than sixty-thousand times, how can I withhold my forgiveness from anyone? How can we demand pennies from our neighbors when Christ has cancelled our trillion dollar debt? How can we stand in hypocrisy, condemning those who inflict our hearts with paper cuts, while we ourselves crucified our Savior on the cross of our sin?

I am utterly self-righteous.

Christ's example puts me to shame when I examine the bitterness of my heart, as I see how willingly and sacrificially He loved His enemies. Enemies who deserved eternal judgement and everlasting death and His righteous hatred but yet received agape love, adoption into the kingdom, and spiritual regeneration.

Forgiveness is a battle for me. It's hard to disregard the scars upon my heart and welcome those who hurt me with open arms. It's hard to show them Christ's love. And some days, it's a continual process of a renewed hatred remolded into love. But it's a process of sanctification, where our hearts are continually fashioned to become more like our Savior.

Lord, teach me forgiveness. Reveal to me the extent of my sin and the enormity of Your love. Let my self-righteousness wither away at the sight of Your grace and mercy. It is hard to forgive. It is hard to love, Lord. But when I finally come to terms with what You've done for me, forgiving once seems a little less impossible. I recognize that I cannot forgive on my own, but it's because of You that I can love and forgive others. Give me a heart of love and compassion, that I may love others as You love them, unselfishly, unconditionally. I am weak, and often I fail. But You are strong and You delight in using those who are weak. So use me as a channel of love and grace, even to my enemies. I thank You for You are an awesome God, who has forgiven us beyond reason. May You would enlarge my heart to the same proportions as Yours.

Understanding the Culture: Why I Disliked The Fault In Our Stars - Book Review

Don't get me wrong. 

I actually stayed up two nights in a row to finish the book. And I admit, it's a pretty cute story. I'm not usually one for romance novels, but by the time I realized The Fault in our Stars (TFIOS) was one, it was too late. Plus it almost made me cry, and that's a pretty rare thing. 

But to get down to earth, even though the story's sweet and the book's plot was interesting overall, I wouldn't recommend it and here's why.

1. Love =/= passion

After reading TFIOS, I could almost believe in love at first sight. In being swept off my feet by those brilliant eyes and that radiant smile. In sending a billion text messages to someone I literally just met. Oh and there comes sex and the first kiss and all that fun stuff. 

And I mean, seriously? Is that what love really is? Just an indiscriminate passion?

Christ defined love for us when He gave Himself sacrificially for the church. He shed His own blood for us, giving up his Godship to humble Himself even to the point of death on a cross. What more could He give? And in the same way, He calls husbands to love their wives with the same kind of sacrificial surrender. Any love apart from this is inferior.

Love is not just physical, intimate pleasure. Love is not just a feeling or fervent emotion.

Love is a choice. 

It's easy to say that when you're emotionally attached. It's easy for author John Green to make a big deal about Hazel and Augustus' unconditional love when they're both still young, relatively immature, and desperate to be wanted. It's easy to say that in the heat of the moment when emotions are all riled up. Sure, they both experienced great difficulties and persevered together through it all. I accept that. But still, they didn't really fight or argue. They were still in that "in love" stage. TFIOS love... it's not legit.

When I think of love, I picture Up and all the godly older couples around me today. Who argued and fought at times, yet chose to persevere together despite life's difficulties. Who remained faithful to their marriage vows even when that passion disappeared. Even when they both did and do things to hurt the other deeply.

Love is a commitment.

And I don't think Hazel and Augustus have this commitment mentality in mind in the book. At all. Who goes to some guy's house that she literally just met an hour ago? Plus seriously, what was John Green thinking when he included that sex scene? Or all those kissing scenes? Because again, this implants within his readers the concept that love is physical. That love is very hands-on. That love is based on passion.

But love isn't any of those things. Rather, it's a commitment, a dedication between two people who resolve to remain true, even when the passion isn't there, even when they've both hurt each other.

TFIOS doesn't truly define a biblical view of love. Rather it sort of hints at it, incorporating unnecessary details of sex and intimacy between Augustus and Hazel, trying to fabricate this concept of unconditional love.

When Green clearly doesn't get it. 

2. Isaac's revenge

So basically, for those of you who haven't read the book, Hazel and Augustus have this mutual friend named Isaac, who becomes temporarily blind. Because of his blindness, his girlfriend ditches him. Out of anger, Hazel and Augustus guide Isaac to his girlfriend's house where they all throw eggs at her car and at her door. 

Like seriously? What a six-year-old thing to do.

Because when people do things to hurt you, the correct thing to do is to get back at them? 

I thought this story was about unconditional love. If Isaac truly loved his girlfriend unconditionally, he would have understood and desired what's best for his girlfriend, instead of deliberately seeking revenge and hurting her. Ideally, he would have lovingly closed the wound, let her move on, and demonstrated a Christ-like kindness. Isaac didn't really love her at all.

This is yet another reason why I don't believe John Green understands love. Love is not some temporary feeling based on individual actions or choices. Love is not equivalent to passion or satisfaction. And revenge is never justified.

Christ commands us to love others as ourselves, even our enemies. Even if people hurt us or do things that tear us apart. That's how true love works. Christ died for us as wretched sinners who rebelled against Him, who broke His very heart by our sin, who hurt our Creator so very deeply. Yet He died for us. He loved us. He gave Himself for us, even in our hatred and disobedience towards Him. 

Revenge doesn't fit into the picture of biblical love. Neither does TFIOS.

3. Writing

Enough with plot analysis. 

First of all, let me just tell you, the writing level is pretty down there. I accept that TFIOS is for simple reading, and I also accept that not everyone enjoys reading Dickens for fun. I certainly don't all the time. Yet I find it degrading that John Green resorts to such simple language for a high school novel. 

Secondly, why the f-bombs and all the cussing? Sure, I understand the characters experience some deep emotional and physical trauma, and an occasion word would be fine with me. I'm not sensitive to language usage in general, but still, I get the point. We as readers don't need words like that to sympathize with the main character, especially at the rate that Green uses them.

~

So, TFIOS. Definitely a very secular book with a self-deceived worldview and a deficient writing style. Like most romance novels, it presents a destructive view of love in general, and this point of view, this concept of love triggers the American dream we see around us today. A world of broken families, casual relationships, teen pregnancies. This mindset carries over into how we view relationships, marriage, divorce. 

I'm not saying TFIOS causes all these things. That would be a slippery slope fallacy. But still, this mindset that John Green presents is dangerous to our society and to us as teens, endowing us with this unrealistic mindset of love, of passion that never ends.

I'm also not asking you to agree with me. I know a lot of people who really love this book, and that's fine. To each his own, right?

But I am asking you to consider the ideals Green promotes and the ideas upheld behind TFIOS. I'm asking you to take a few minutes and contemplate the worldview the book presents and the consequences of its viewpoint. 

Not all that glitters is gold.