Sunday, July 14, 2013

When I Am Like Peter.

I suddenly felt like Peter. 

I had asked the Lord to tell me to step out, and he called me out upon the water. I felt the thrill of the miraculous - but then I glanced away. My steps faltered, froze, then my feet started thrashing as suddenly I plunged into the water and waves crashed over me. I coughed and sputtered, my eyes stung. The wind howled and swept away the shouts of my friends in the boat,  moments ago mere steps away, now unreachable. As I struggled to keep my head above the water, I turned back to them for help - surely they would toss a rope or row over to me. But to my surprise, they were preoccupied with keeping the boat afloat, saving their own lives - though some seemed to be shouting to the man behind me. 
I, of all people, ought to be able to survive this. I who have been a fisherman my whole life, who swam nearly as soon as I could walk. I, who love the water and the wind and the rain, who survived storm after storm. I should be able to handle this.

But I couldn't. And just as desperation seized me, and I cried out "Lord! Save me!" a hand grasped firmly mine, and he who had called me out pulled me up. "O you of little faith, why do you doubt?"

Was that a spark of amusement in his eyes? Sorrow coating his voice? Perhaps a mixture of both. For to him, it is such a small matter, and he knows all will be fine. Not mockery in his smile, but wistfulness and love. "Oh little child, if only you knew." I know he wants me to believe and trust, and my fear and doubt and subsequent pain saddens him. 

When my nephew was only a few months old, he would cry and cry and cry. I would sing, trying to soothe and distract him, the words slightly different each time.
"Baby Patrick, Baby Patrick, I know your tummy hurts, that's so sad. 
 Baby Patrick, Baby Patrick, I hate to see you mad.
 Baby Patrick, Baby Patrick, you wouldn't be so blue,
 Baby Patrick, Baby Patrick, if you knew how I loved you."

If only he could understand how very loved he was, his fears and pain might dissipate. If only we could understand the magnitude of God's love, we might be more willing to trust.

No matter how skilled I am at "swimming," no matter the experience I have cultivated through my past in missions, I must rely on faith moment by moment. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for and the certainty of things unseen. I must seek the assurance and certainty that Christ is who he says he is and will accomplish what he said he will, that which he called me to. If he says to come walk on the water, he will enable me to do so - not by my power or skill, but by his. 

After all, his power is made perfect in my weakness.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Prayers of Gratitude.

Her face alight with interest, she nods in agreement at something I say, takes a sip of her coffee. People mill around us but they are out of focus, muted. Some remote part of me knows my eyes are shining with excitement, every part of me tingling and alive. Recounting what God has done, painting pictures of the girls and boys I worked with at ICI, tracing the paths God took me down to get to this point - it's thrilling. I silently shoot up a prayer of gratitude for this person God has brought into my life, someone also passionate about reaching Chicago for Christ. 

Thank you, Lord, for the opportunity to speak for missions, to help others find joy in serving you, to share what you have called me to do.  


I review my excel sheet, inputting numbers, scrolling up and down, back and forth, clicking from one screen to another. And blink tears from my eyes. God's faithfulness, the faithfulness of you who  take part in my work with ICI - it blows me away. I see how you have given month after month. I see you who have recently joined my team, joined with me in reaching these inner city kids. There are 40 of you who give repeatedly, almost 20 more who give special gifts. And more than 80 additional, you pray. "The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective."

Thank you, Lord, for the multitude you have called to come alongside me, to encourage and uplift me, to love your gospel and the kids in Chicago. 


In discussing the process of support raising recently, I reflect on how it is preparing me. The endurance and perseverance I am learning test my commitment - hands-on ministry will require these. Reliance on God, financially, emotionally, relationally - this also will be further needed once I start. The furthering of practical skills such as initiating relationships and intentional conversation is essential to developing disciples. And I learn again and again to increase my faith in God's faithfulness.

Thank you, Lord, for teaching me through support raising. For the preparation you do in my life now for the future. For using this time to further mold me into your likeness. 

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Red Thermometer.

There is a red thermometer sketched on the white board on the fridge in my and Karin's house. It tells me daily, sometimes rejoicing, sometimes mocking: 43%43%. 
It has been at that level for a while. I hit 40% at the beginning of May - it is now July. I have met with several people, increased 3%. I have 57% left to go - in just under 2 months. If I continue at this rate, by my projected "start date" I won't even be at 50%. 

I often get distracted and discouraged. One day I spent nearly the whole day reading. Reading. A fantasy novel. About zombies, of all things. (Not really a fan of zombies. At all. It tricked me.)

I easily get swallowed up in my failings and kick myself for not being more diligent, more responsible, for not presenting the ministry well or not specifically inviting people to join my team. If I just worked harder, if I just stayed focused, if I were better I could reach my goal, be a "good missionary." Or at least support raiser.

It's time to forget what is behind and strain for what is ahead. To press on toward the goal to win the prize.
But that's taking that out of context. That's not at all what the verse is talking about. It's not about attaining whatever your goal is, but attaining Christ

"I want to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already attained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining towards what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." - Philippians 3:10-14

Seek first, then all else will be added. According to God's timing, will, and discretion. My striving attains nothing, but in seeking Him I have all I need.

The person I used to be.

“We all change, when you think about it. We’re all different people all through our lives. And that’s OK, that’s good, you gotta keep movin...