His name is Redemption

I may say something radical here. So stop reading.
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Redemption misses nothing. He leaves no stone unturned, no portrait unpainted, no soil barren.

He is the Shepherd who lays down His life for His stupid, rebellious sheep.
He is the Potter who intimately fashions His clay, sometimes with gentle--sometimes with pounding--strokes.

He is the Lion, roaring in wild abandon and fierce desire.
He is the Lamb, silent, stinking and humiliated.

Redemption--He is the exclamation point at the end of death's sentence.

See? He makes all things new.

Christmas, Part Two

This Christmas season has been a mixed bag for me. I've been excited to spend Christmas with my better half (it will be the first we've celebrated together in three years); I've been very sad that the Christmas traditions I grew up knowing and loving no longer wrap me in the securities of time and care; I've felt out of place because I normally feel very intensely the depths of anticipation for what--and Who--is to come, but this year the unknowns of a different family celebration have depleted my hopeful expectations. I've also been increasingly disgusted with the consumerism of Christmas this year; the other day while exercising, Oprah's "Favorite Things" show came on and all of the women went into orgasmic ecstasy over...stuff. Disgusting.

Sometimes, I wish I didn't feel things so deeply and thus experience the pull of a thousand different directions.

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Sunday past, the kids were up front singing songs they've been preparing for months. Some of them knew all the words completely by heart and were singing at the top of their lungs. Some of them knew absolutely zero words and spent time making faces at the audience. Some knew the words, but got stage fright and stood there alternately mouthing the words and staring blankly.

One kid, well...he had Down's Syndrome. He didn't really sing, but it didn't matter. He just stood in the middle of the stage and worshiped God with the simplicity of a pure heart and mind. He raised his hands in simple adoration because that is what you do when you know Him as He is. He danced around in circles because His Savior dances over him. And He clapped his hands because the King of the Universes became a Babe born into poverty to make him new.

That is it. That is all of Christmas. Worship, stripped of complexity and sin.

Jesus, help us to adore You, open our eyes to know You, lead us in the dance and give us the humility of unbroken praise.

A Year Later, or Life After Chicago

A year ago yesterday, I left Chicago in a trail of tears that was perhaps even more violent than that of the goodbyes said to Mongolia.

I hated myself for choosing to leave. I got to Laura's house at 4am and did not wake up until long after she had gone to work. My outlook was bleak and my hope had run dry. I had not anticipated feeling so completely the depths of despair.

When I left Columbus to finish the drive home, the weather matched my mood. Grey, impassable skies in Ohio gave way to a mighty blizzard in the mountains of West Virginia and Virginia. I almost died that night, I'm sure of it. Almost out of gas, I would sleep for an hour, wake up, turn the car on for two minutes to thaw out, then fall back asleep. Traffic was stopped for miles and miles even after I was towed out of a snow drift while coming down the highest mountain pass from Virginia into North Carolina. My cell phone battery had died after a few frantic phone calls to my family.

Finally, around 2-3am, traffic started moving and I slipped and slid my way to the next exit with gas eight miles down the road. Once there, the gracious clerk allowed me to plug in my cell phone. I called my mom and she said that my dad and brother had set out to rescue me. They would be at the gas station soon.

They came. We arrived home at 7am after I had been driving/freezing for 22 hours.

That night, I was so angry with God--angry for making me leave Chicago, angry for getting me stuck in the stupid blizzard, angry for making me pee in an empty peanut container because I didn't have access to a restroom for 15 hours, angry for ruining my plans. But even in my anger, that night I realized that He wants me to LIVE.

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So, here I am a year later. Yesterday I went to the old warehouse that my Houston church recently purchased to help with demolition/reconstruction clean-up. I met my new friend Carly and we hauled wheelbarrows of sheet-rock. We helped clean away what was broken so that the beautiful, old brick walls hidden behind could shine through with grace and dignity.

The past year has not been easy. I still cannot think of leaving Chicago without pain. But it was necessary.

Lots of tearing down of old personal sheet-rock, unprecedented opportunities for service in the Kingdom, new relationships, writing, deeper trust in Jesus and His plan for my life--these mean that the Father knows what He was asking me to do and that if I obeyed Him I would Live.

ESL: A Day in the Life

*Note: To my regular readers--
I promised my students that I would write a blog for them; so, here it is: a day in the life of our ESL (English as a Second Language) class.

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The classroom we meet in for three hours a day is pretty boring--white walls, a whiteboard, white floors, a snack machine and a few nondescript desks--but once we start, our space is full of life, laughter and (hopefully) learning.

We always start by greeting each other and giving a daily update of what happened the night before. Sometimes the students are tired because they did not sleep enough; sometimes the teacher is tired because she did not sleep enough; sometimes everyone is tired because it is Thursday and it has been a long week of cramming language structures and vocabulary into our relatively small heads. Usually the students tell me they are doing well, and usually I ask them why they are doing well. Thankfully, they are not timid and I get plenty of feedback.

Every day, we start our class with a "Buzzword of the Day." Sometimes the word is slang, sometimes it is a word they hear frequently but is not generally included in ESL curricula and sometimes it is a word that I see on Twitter when I check updates right before class.

Our books include grammar, listening, vocabulary, reading selections, comprehension questions and exercises. The books cover topics like environmentalism, education for girls, crossing cultures and scientific discoveries. And guess what? My students, well, they take those topics and they own them.

We do not shy away from controversy; one of my three class rules is "Respect each other and respect your teacher." So, our conversations can be spicy without becoming vindictive. We've talked about women driving (believe it or not, it is controversial!), whether or not fast food is what defines American food, what "strategy" is and in what contexts it can be used, religious beliefs and appreciating people we don't necessarily understand.

Usually, the hours go faster than I anticipate and our conversations must come to an end. We talk about homework, upcoming quizzes and/or tests and general life happenings.

Then, I release my students to the wild, er, lunch and afternoon classes, and prepare for meeting them the following morning. We share cheerful goodbyes and see you laters and make our way down the hallways of our beloved school.

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It is an understatement to say that I love my job.

Christmas, Part One

I don't normally put whole chunks of Scripture in my blog, but I think seeing these two Advent passages side by side in a format different from the Bibles we use will be helpful in grasping more fully who Jesus is, and why reminding ourselves of the true definition of Christmas is essential to Life.

Blessed is he whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the LORD his God, the Maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them--
the LORD, who remains faithful forever.

He upholds the cause of the oppressed and gives food to the hungry.

The LORD sets prisoners free,
the LORD gives sight to the blind,
the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,
the LORD loves the righteous.
The LORD watches over the alien and sustains the fatherless and the widow,
but He frustrates the ways of the wicked.

The LORD reigns forever, your God, O Zion, for all generations.
(Psalm 146:5-10)

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When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples to ask him, 'Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?'

Jesus replied, 'Go back and report to John what you hear and see: the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me.'
(Matthew 11:2-6)

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Jesus--He is the LORD.

This is Christmas: falling on our faces in awe of the Maker of all things, Forever-Sovereign, perfect justice-dispensing God who submitted to the confinements of skin, blood and bones in order to pursue with everlasting love the hearts of all people.

[healed]

People just want to be healed.

They are crying out.

Come, O Healer, and make all things new.

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I needed the Church today.
I need the Church.

Without her, I am lost in my own thoughts and the lies of Satan.

The Church gives dimension to the words of Scripture.
Words spoken by the Church, Truth lived, Prayers offered, Love received and poured out--

Alone-ness is poison to the soul.

Imperfect unity under the Shepherd is sunshine and rain.

Symbol Power

Sometimes, people need symbols to help them understand a concept or take something seriously. The prophets used symbols regularly. Hosea actually married a whore; God told him that she was a symbol of Israel's adultery. Jeremiah used a linen belt and a yoke to convey the messages of discipline God wanted communicated to His children. The temple, as God designed it, included hundred of symbols of his power, majesty, love and work for His beloved.

Symbols remain emblazoned on our memories. We only need to see a swastika to recall the unspeakable horrors of the Holocaust and the ease at which people can treat other people like sewage. We only need to hear "9/11" and instantly we see planes crashing into buildings, thousands of people dying, crashing to the ground.

But the thing with symbols is that they can't do their work of abrupt confrontation if people aren't present to them. Busy-ness, distraction, work, commitments--they all subtract from the power of the symbol.

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One symbol that Christians have used for hundreds of years is the cross. There are millions of cross-symbols in use every day around the world in the 21st century. And truly, it is a powerful picture: God-in-flesh humility, abject poverty, unconditional love, infinite justice and excruciating death, all wrapped up into two pieces of wood slapped together like words in a forgettable sonnet.

But how often do I let myself intentionally dwell on what the cross-symbol confronts me with?

My own internal silence is deafening.

desert.

"Give thanks...to Him
who led His people
through the desert,
His love endures forever."

(Ps. 136:16)

They were still His people, even in the desert.
And even in the desert, His love endures forever.