Sometimes the Lord's unfolding plan only makes sense in hindsight, so if it seems like I'm bouncing around in terms of topic or chronology it's because I am a sinner and perceive things dimly for now. Anyway, as I alluded to in my previous post, the Lord communicated with me in a special way through books following my conversion. It was through this medium that He chose to initiate the call to Mount Shasta. The details follow.
In February of 2009 I was working as a personal care attendant and studying in my spare time. Because my schedule was quite predictable, unlike when I worked as a magazine editor and designer, I agreed to read a book my friend Gary wanted to lend me. (I am not trying to withhold details here, but I am hesitant to cite which one, seeing as Gary let me borrow three books at once and I don't at present remember which one it was that mentioned Mount Shasta.) In any case, I read a few chapters and then relegated it to my shelf where it sat untouched for six months.
In June 2009, after injuring my back (though I think it was quite deteriorated before I took on the care attendant job), I had to give notice that I would need to withdraw from my position and then decided to apply to Briercrest. A year prior, the Lord had told me He would bring me to Bible college some day, but, as was my custom, I decided to hang tight for a while instead of responding immediately. My plan was to work a few years and raise enough money to pay for school, but that wasn't to be. Anyway, I was accepted into the Biblical Studies program at Briercrest and began to plan for the move to Saskatchewan. Naturally, I fell into the habit of telling people about what the Lord was working out in my life.
One evening in August, less than a month before my departure, I stopped at Tim Horton's on my way home from visiting with someone, presumably the last time I'd see them before Christmas. My intention in stopping at Tim's was to grab a coffee then return home to study (I had downloaded a bunch of syllabi for my classes and had ordered a bunch of textbooks online). The Lord, being sovereign as He is, had directed me to walk into the store instead of simply using the drive thru, which was never busy at that hour. Instead of a quick turnaround, I ran into my friend Paul and we talked for a few hours on a wide range of subjects, such as how important it was that I not become too academic and lose my first love (how ironic!). Then he perked up and told me to wait a moment while he retrieved a book from his car, adding that I just "had to" read it (okay so I paraphrased this). I politely told him that I appreciated the gesture but I had a stack of books to get through, including some unfinished ones that had been lent to me in February, so I declined his offer. He was persistent, though, and said the chapters were short and the print was large and that someone like me could read it quickly. So I reluctantly accepted. For the detail-minded, I will add that it was Norman Vincent Peale's In God We Trust.
I would have preferred to use the time to gain ground in reading textbooks for school but recognized that I couldn't keep these loaners forever, so I submitted to rushing through them even though I felt, in a sense, that they had been thrust upon me. And so it was that I found myself alternating between the Peale book and one of the books Gary lent me, reading a chapter in one and then in the other. In light of the circumstance and the heightened sensitivity to how God had historically used books to communicate with me, I thought it really significant when, within the span of a half hour I saw the same place mentioned in two different books given me by two different people that were in no way related and which I had received six months apart. Had I been diligent in reading Gary's book, I would have long since returned it and never would have made this connection. But the Lord worked things out in such a manner that I would read about a place I'd never heard of before or since: Mount Shasta, California.
Now, some of you will think it rather weird to embark on a cross-continent journey just because of the above. My tendency is to agree, though I can't do so with an entirely clear conscience in light of how much the Lord has gone out of His way to emphasize certain things to me using books. Though I wasn't convinced to go, nor did I know when to go or how to get there, I couldn't simply dismiss this.
A few days later I phoned my friend Leslie and asked him if he'd like to accompany me to town so we could grab a coffee and chat before I left. We went through the drive thru and parked by the Yarmouth Harbour on the south side of Water Street. It was about 30C outside, so I lowered my window to try to cool off. We prayed to the Lord about many things, and I asked Him bluntly if I should pursue this "Mount Shasta thing" or if it had simply been an odd coincidence I shouldn't dwell upon. I didn't hear a response.
I asked Him a second time if He wanted me to go to Mount Shasta. I don't think He said anything, but I recognized that it was hard to concentrate on account of a crow that was cawing loudly in the trees, maybe 20 feet or so behind my car. I continued to listen to see if the Lord would respond yay or nay, but I didn't hear anything He might have said.
Finally the crow was silent, so I asked Him a third time, "Lord, do you want me to go to Mount Shasta? If you don't respond, I will let this go on the assumption that it's just a coincidence. I have all these plans to go to school that you confirmed before I ever heard about Mount Shasta, but I can't help but take seriously that I discovered it in a way you have often used to communicate with me. It's truly up to you, Lord, but I will disavow myself of this unless you make your will known to me."
I waited. And He didn't respond [that I could hear].
To be honest, I would have preferred not having any obligation to go to California. I knew nothing about this mountain, and I felt as if I lacked the means to do anything any alleged call to go there. I didn't have a passport, and what little I had in savings was now allocated for school. So I was quite pleased that He didn't respond. Yes, such an attitude reflects a lack of faith, but I was still quite young in my discipleship (less than two years at the time).
Finally, I told the Lord in no uncertain terms, "Okay God, if you want me to go to Mount Shasta, have the crow caw four times."
Within a few seconds I heard, "Caw, caw, caw, caw!"
And there was silence.
Stupefied, I paused for a moment and reflected on what had happened before saying, "God, if that was really you, have the crow caw three times."
A few seconds later, "Caw, caw, caw."
Again, silence.
I was too perplexed to say anything, but I wasn't dimwitted enough to ask for a third sign. Nevertheless, I got an additional confirmation, as the crow began to caw in a four-three pattern, pausing for about ten seconds between each set. I finally told the Lord that I would keep this in mind and go to Mount Shasta someday. Not that I understood how or why, just that He said so.
A brief note: Some people who read this may fancy themselves scientific thinkers. I certainly did and do. I studied sciences throughout high school and have what I would describe as a decent grasp on scientific theory. Now, many will suggest that science and faith are incompatible and/or mutually exclusive. As G. K. Chesterton so astutely wrote once, "Somehow or other an extraordinary idea has arisen that the disbelievers in miracles consider them coldly and fairly, while believers in miracles accept them only in connection with some dogma. The fact is quite the other way. The believers in miracles accept them (rightly or wrongly) because they have evidence for them. The disbelievers in miracles deny them (rightly or wrongly) because they have a doctrine against them." To this I would add that it is entirely scientific to assert that, if I address someone and He responds, He exists. It is, I think, beyond the realm of absurdity to assume that a crow should indulge me in such a manner unless God were not only real but sovereign. Science does not take such a big leap as to presume that this was a coincidence. That is not scientific in the least, given the data, and though I disdain the "Christian science" movement (which I regard as a sect), I affirm that faith is not only scientific but reflective of reality, which science seeks to understand and express.
Second, the Christians who read this may find that I am a bit bold in how I deal with the Lord. I've been told that I am downright irreverent. To this I would respond that I was not "raised in the church" and thus have not been indoctrinated with a bunch of prima facie Protestantisms that don't reflect the God of the Bible. As such, I thought nothing ill of treating God the way I learned about Him in reading my Bible as a new convert (I have read it twice in its entirety, taking five and two months to do so, respectively.) If I have been bold in putting out a fleece, I would like to add, therefore, a particular note on the context in which I did so. It must be pointed out that I put out fleeces to receive confirmation on things He initiated. I have received many such confirmations when that was the case. I have never, however, received confirmation when it was with regard to something I demanded to know about. I think this is consistent with Scripture, and I don't consider it the least bit bold. He asks that we pursue Him. There is no need to defend my approach.
Anyway, as mentioned, this all took place in 2009. My next post will describe the situation leading up to my decision to follow the call this past Friday.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Odds and Ends
God is often in the negligible things. To cite a recent example, I walked around Caronport last month just waiting for him to reveal himself to me. I paused to look at everything from paw tracks to the horizon to the ministry of butterflies that were circulating in groups of four or five in the brush. They looked like they were harvesting something, drifting from plant to plant. It was a lovely day. Grasshoppers would dart in and out of the shrubs in front of me as I followed the town perimeter. Birds would thrust themselves from concealment but then dive back into the safety of the uncut grass when they hit gusts of dusty prairie wind. The day seemed ripe for God to part the clouds and condescend to give me words of life. But He was silent. I finally gave up on seeking Him and took one of the rutty dirt roads back into town. I was watching the ground so as not to plunge my foot into the fresh rainwater that had collected into puddles in our neglected side streets when what did I hear but some stranger’s voice calling for help. Some man was fixing his roof and had just discovered that his ladder had been knocked down by the wind. I helped him descend from his roof by holding the ladder in place and told him to have a blessed day. He wished me the same. As I made my way toward Sundbo (the mature dorm) I told God that I had really wanted to hear from Him that day. He said that wasn’t such a bad thing but He had just intended for me to help that guy off his roof. So yeah, God is a tender spirit for such a powerful one. And He has a tendency of communicating with me through simple things. But in really, REALLY special ways. That’s kind of the occasion for these posts.
Shortly after He brought me from death to life, I developed a thirst for learning about him. I bought books on theology and biblical studies faster than I could read them. I was the guy who dropped out of university in 2001 and read two books over the span of the following six years. And those two were a struggle for me. I just didn't have the attention span, and the drugs I did to self-medicate no doubt contributed to my lack of focus. Even now I sort of wonder if knowledge wasn’t just an “acceptable drug,” fundamentally identical to the illegal ones but for the fact that spiritual learning has a certain religious commodity to it. My intentions and enthusiasm seemed really genuine at the time. But it was uncanny how, because I had books to peer into, I would get urges to pick one from the shelf and open to a random page and read it. I would read the same thing twice in a day in different books that were never meant to be studied concurrently. Within a day or two someone would have a question about what God had directed me to read. He was building a teaching ministry in me at a very early stage in my walk with Him. It made me seem a lot smarter and educated than I really was, and He deserves all the glory for the times I had (or ever will have) an answer for someone. Anyway, after this happened many times, I became sensitive to it. So my spirit perked up when, in August 2009, less than a month before I left for Briercrest, it happened again. But this one was different. It was for me. It wasn't the kind of thing that can be taught. It just told me of the existence of a place I'd never heard of.
But anyway, now seems like a good time to close this post since I've filled in some of the gaps between last year and now. Unfortunately, He's done so many wonderful things (and many many that I wasn't made aware of) that I've fallen way short of my goal in starting this blog. Nevertheless, the story of my trip to Mount Shasta, California will have to wait one more post so I can explain the call to go there.
Shortly after He brought me from death to life, I developed a thirst for learning about him. I bought books on theology and biblical studies faster than I could read them. I was the guy who dropped out of university in 2001 and read two books over the span of the following six years. And those two were a struggle for me. I just didn't have the attention span, and the drugs I did to self-medicate no doubt contributed to my lack of focus. Even now I sort of wonder if knowledge wasn’t just an “acceptable drug,” fundamentally identical to the illegal ones but for the fact that spiritual learning has a certain religious commodity to it. My intentions and enthusiasm seemed really genuine at the time. But it was uncanny how, because I had books to peer into, I would get urges to pick one from the shelf and open to a random page and read it. I would read the same thing twice in a day in different books that were never meant to be studied concurrently. Within a day or two someone would have a question about what God had directed me to read. He was building a teaching ministry in me at a very early stage in my walk with Him. It made me seem a lot smarter and educated than I really was, and He deserves all the glory for the times I had (or ever will have) an answer for someone. Anyway, after this happened many times, I became sensitive to it. So my spirit perked up when, in August 2009, less than a month before I left for Briercrest, it happened again. But this one was different. It was for me. It wasn't the kind of thing that can be taught. It just told me of the existence of a place I'd never heard of.
But anyway, now seems like a good time to close this post since I've filled in some of the gaps between last year and now. Unfortunately, He's done so many wonderful things (and many many that I wasn't made aware of) that I've fallen way short of my goal in starting this blog. Nevertheless, the story of my trip to Mount Shasta, California will have to wait one more post so I can explain the call to go there.
Healed From Celiac Disease
18 November 2009. What a special night.
Depriving myself of sleep and food hadn’t become a habit yet, but I was gradually conforming my habits to the demands of the academy. But I did have some precious moments with brothers and sisters before knowledge and the almighty GPA would oust Jesus from the special place in my heart he had recently--and finally (and rightfully!)--claimed. There was a week around that time, mid-November, before or after the eighteenth I can't say, when I could practically hear creation groaning. It seemed like every maudlin topic we covered in Intro to Theology gave me a new context in which to share how I struggled to understand God’s grace. And I did share, as my classmates could attest. I hated sin. I grasped how it brought death and death alone. During that really exceptional phase I drenched my pillow with tears every night, mourning my transgressions until I passed out from exhaustion. I see in hindsight that all I was doing was lamenting the fact that I couldn’t atone for myself, but I had been deceived by my false motives of wanting to repay God for saving me. If I can be so bold, I think I had a genuine (though misguided) desire to do something that might please the Father. And there is, I posit, nothing wrong with wanting to please one’s parent--especially when one has been adopted into God’s household.
So yeah, 18 November. I had a lot of work to do, but I accepted an invitation to watch a meteor shower from the outskirts of Caronport, SK. The shower was less than spectacular, but I discovered that, even though I had inhabited a tiny place for most of my natural life, Tusket (pop. 300) was still too big to see the Milky Way--the real one, with so many stars that even Abram couldn’t count them. So it didn’t matter that we saw few streaks in the heavens. We saw the heavens. And it was heavenly. And they were heavenly. And it was soon after that I became the product of my own design: desperately sick in body and spirit. I believed what the devil told me about myself, that I was as good as my knowledge of the Word. So I isolated myself with it. I burned both ends so I could read everything thoroughly. I spent upwards of 40-50 hours on some assignments. I missed meals. I missed events. And the consequences were not subtle.
All I remember about Christmas 2009 is that I spent the whole time wanting to get back to Caronport. We have a much better library in Caronport. Oh yeah, I brought work with me. So it wasn't as restful as it might have been, and I needed rest. My failure--nay, refusal--to recouperate over Christmas made second semester distinct from the first in that I didn't begin class with enthusiasm or a desire to understand God better. I was already tired of learning. I grew increasingly tired of knowing Him. But I had to do it. (Wonder why pride is so dangerous?)
I had diarrhoea every day my second semester at Briercrest. Well, that’s not true. Let’s say between five and six days a week. More than five, less than six. And it happened multiple times a day. Even the people I’ve told didn’t know how bad it was. I would wear long johns to class, even when the weather heated up, just in case I had a mishap walking to class. My stomach was like napalm; you shake it, you brake it. The long johns, for their part, did a decent job absorbing any "accidents." They became so commonplace, too. Every morning I needed to change my underwear. It was like my Montreal trip all over again (during which I became so ill that I finally had my digestive issues investigated and was diagnosed with Celiac disease). But that was 2006, and three years later it seemed like I had either accumulated even more allergies. Or perhaps worse. For all I knew I had some malignancy that was causing my leaky pipes. But stallions couldn’t have pulled me to a doctor. And don’t get me wrong here. Though I was prone to the macho thing, avoiding the hospital as if the whole place were quarantined, afraid of what the professionals might discover--though I wrestled with all that stuff, there was one reason I couldn’t be bothered: I didn’t have time. My assignments had to come first. But when one reaches a point where assignments can pre-empt sleep and meals, is it really that surprising that I had no time for doctors?
So yeah, the whole point of this blog is to glorify God. Because I believe testimonies belong to Him, I think we are thieves when we keep them to ourselves. So I share details that some might classify as humiliating because I believe it they enhance the glory due Him when I joyfully declare that He cured me this summer. I had a CT scan and blood tests done in May. The CT scan revealed inflammation in my intestines that was blocking passage for food, which caused the leakages I experienced. I was put on medication and referred to a specialist. The specialist decided to do a massive investigation of my insides, so he booked me for a scope through both ends and asked me to go on a gluten diet to see how it was affecting me (I had suspected that there was a lot of contamination at the cafeteria at school but I was more deliberate in consuming it for the next few weeks). To make sure we had a genuine reading of what was happening with my system, I also went off the meds, which had really helped for the couple weeks I took them.
A month later, after going off the meds and eating everything that historically made me ill, there was no inflammation and I had been cured of Celiac disease. My symptoms disappeared well in advance of these medical confirmations, but I must confess it felt good to have some kind of scientific confirmation.
Of course, it shames me that it's taken this long to post this here, but the Lord is due some major glory on account of this blessing and I pray that this entry will inspire many hearts to praise His name.
Depriving myself of sleep and food hadn’t become a habit yet, but I was gradually conforming my habits to the demands of the academy. But I did have some precious moments with brothers and sisters before knowledge and the almighty GPA would oust Jesus from the special place in my heart he had recently--and finally (and rightfully!)--claimed. There was a week around that time, mid-November, before or after the eighteenth I can't say, when I could practically hear creation groaning. It seemed like every maudlin topic we covered in Intro to Theology gave me a new context in which to share how I struggled to understand God’s grace. And I did share, as my classmates could attest. I hated sin. I grasped how it brought death and death alone. During that really exceptional phase I drenched my pillow with tears every night, mourning my transgressions until I passed out from exhaustion. I see in hindsight that all I was doing was lamenting the fact that I couldn’t atone for myself, but I had been deceived by my false motives of wanting to repay God for saving me. If I can be so bold, I think I had a genuine (though misguided) desire to do something that might please the Father. And there is, I posit, nothing wrong with wanting to please one’s parent--especially when one has been adopted into God’s household.
So yeah, 18 November. I had a lot of work to do, but I accepted an invitation to watch a meteor shower from the outskirts of Caronport, SK. The shower was less than spectacular, but I discovered that, even though I had inhabited a tiny place for most of my natural life, Tusket (pop. 300) was still too big to see the Milky Way--the real one, with so many stars that even Abram couldn’t count them. So it didn’t matter that we saw few streaks in the heavens. We saw the heavens. And it was heavenly. And they were heavenly. And it was soon after that I became the product of my own design: desperately sick in body and spirit. I believed what the devil told me about myself, that I was as good as my knowledge of the Word. So I isolated myself with it. I burned both ends so I could read everything thoroughly. I spent upwards of 40-50 hours on some assignments. I missed meals. I missed events. And the consequences were not subtle.
All I remember about Christmas 2009 is that I spent the whole time wanting to get back to Caronport. We have a much better library in Caronport. Oh yeah, I brought work with me. So it wasn't as restful as it might have been, and I needed rest. My failure--nay, refusal--to recouperate over Christmas made second semester distinct from the first in that I didn't begin class with enthusiasm or a desire to understand God better. I was already tired of learning. I grew increasingly tired of knowing Him. But I had to do it. (Wonder why pride is so dangerous?)
I had diarrhoea every day my second semester at Briercrest. Well, that’s not true. Let’s say between five and six days a week. More than five, less than six. And it happened multiple times a day. Even the people I’ve told didn’t know how bad it was. I would wear long johns to class, even when the weather heated up, just in case I had a mishap walking to class. My stomach was like napalm; you shake it, you brake it. The long johns, for their part, did a decent job absorbing any "accidents." They became so commonplace, too. Every morning I needed to change my underwear. It was like my Montreal trip all over again (during which I became so ill that I finally had my digestive issues investigated and was diagnosed with Celiac disease). But that was 2006, and three years later it seemed like I had either accumulated even more allergies. Or perhaps worse. For all I knew I had some malignancy that was causing my leaky pipes. But stallions couldn’t have pulled me to a doctor. And don’t get me wrong here. Though I was prone to the macho thing, avoiding the hospital as if the whole place were quarantined, afraid of what the professionals might discover--though I wrestled with all that stuff, there was one reason I couldn’t be bothered: I didn’t have time. My assignments had to come first. But when one reaches a point where assignments can pre-empt sleep and meals, is it really that surprising that I had no time for doctors?
So yeah, the whole point of this blog is to glorify God. Because I believe testimonies belong to Him, I think we are thieves when we keep them to ourselves. So I share details that some might classify as humiliating because I believe it they enhance the glory due Him when I joyfully declare that He cured me this summer. I had a CT scan and blood tests done in May. The CT scan revealed inflammation in my intestines that was blocking passage for food, which caused the leakages I experienced. I was put on medication and referred to a specialist. The specialist decided to do a massive investigation of my insides, so he booked me for a scope through both ends and asked me to go on a gluten diet to see how it was affecting me (I had suspected that there was a lot of contamination at the cafeteria at school but I was more deliberate in consuming it for the next few weeks). To make sure we had a genuine reading of what was happening with my system, I also went off the meds, which had really helped for the couple weeks I took them.
A month later, after going off the meds and eating everything that historically made me ill, there was no inflammation and I had been cured of Celiac disease. My symptoms disappeared well in advance of these medical confirmations, but I must confess it felt good to have some kind of scientific confirmation.
Of course, it shames me that it's taken this long to post this here, but the Lord is due some major glory on account of this blessing and I pray that this entry will inspire many hearts to praise His name.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Stargazing in Caronport
18 November 2009 (12:03 a.m. to 1:51 a.m.)
I just returned from a night of stargazing beneath the most majestic sky I've ever seen. My hands are still thawing as I type, but I have some comments to share and now is the time.
First, let me just praise God for opening up new worlds for me, both personal and external. I know myself well enough that I simply never would have participated in a night like this one back home. Not because there weren't opportunities, but I've been far too uptight in the past to jump into a truck overflowing with people to skirt down a sketchy road toward an unmarked field with a bunch of my peers. And to step out into the crispy remnants of what was probably a bright yellow field before fall descended on this place. And then I looked, and behold, the most unveiled sky I'd ever seen. My village in Nova Scotia is pretty rural, but I was suddenly gripped with the revelation that east coast atmospheric currents are so diluted with pollution that we just don't know what a night sky is in the Maritimes. If words could express the blanket of ether that glows behind the stars we actually can see, the hundreds more that suddenly removed their masks... and then we closed all the truck doors and even more appeared. It makes me wonder just what kind of challenge God issued Abraham when He told him He'd make his descendants more numerous than the stars. I mean, what did Abraham see, before human civilization stripped the world of many of her former charms? This, in a manner of speaking, is precisely the kind of showing that God seems to have intended for me when He told me He'd meet me in Caronport.
Second, tonight was just an incredible bonding time with some of my peers in academia but especially in our Lord. The first thing I noticed upon exiting the Regina airport was just how much the sky hovers above and absolutely dominates the prairies. It's the kind of spectacle that really makes a person feel tiny, and yet the One who created all this knows me by name and burns with jealousy for me to love Him as He's loved me. Paul was correct when he wrote that no one has an excuse; creation constantly praises its Creator. To have a part in the lives of these people, in the unfolding of history, and in the eternal plan of God is too wonderful for me to express or comprehend. And the laughs and moments and streaking meteorites and chilled extremities and the weird balloon thing we launched into the sky are somehow all smaller then the sum total: Before I was saved, life passed me by. Now that I know God, nothing is impossible. Even the small things that are so carefully hidden, so craftily concealed by He who was pleased to reveal the greatest mysteries through childlike hearts, that I can see in hindsight why I needed to hit rock bottom and surrender to Christ before I could see any of this. It's all too simple and beautiful for a worldly person to even notice, let alone care about, let alone appreciate. Praise be to God, for He is slowly melting my cold, cold heart.
I just returned from a night of stargazing beneath the most majestic sky I've ever seen. My hands are still thawing as I type, but I have some comments to share and now is the time.
First, let me just praise God for opening up new worlds for me, both personal and external. I know myself well enough that I simply never would have participated in a night like this one back home. Not because there weren't opportunities, but I've been far too uptight in the past to jump into a truck overflowing with people to skirt down a sketchy road toward an unmarked field with a bunch of my peers. And to step out into the crispy remnants of what was probably a bright yellow field before fall descended on this place. And then I looked, and behold, the most unveiled sky I'd ever seen. My village in Nova Scotia is pretty rural, but I was suddenly gripped with the revelation that east coast atmospheric currents are so diluted with pollution that we just don't know what a night sky is in the Maritimes. If words could express the blanket of ether that glows behind the stars we actually can see, the hundreds more that suddenly removed their masks... and then we closed all the truck doors and even more appeared. It makes me wonder just what kind of challenge God issued Abraham when He told him He'd make his descendants more numerous than the stars. I mean, what did Abraham see, before human civilization stripped the world of many of her former charms? This, in a manner of speaking, is precisely the kind of showing that God seems to have intended for me when He told me He'd meet me in Caronport.
Second, tonight was just an incredible bonding time with some of my peers in academia but especially in our Lord. The first thing I noticed upon exiting the Regina airport was just how much the sky hovers above and absolutely dominates the prairies. It's the kind of spectacle that really makes a person feel tiny, and yet the One who created all this knows me by name and burns with jealousy for me to love Him as He's loved me. Paul was correct when he wrote that no one has an excuse; creation constantly praises its Creator. To have a part in the lives of these people, in the unfolding of history, and in the eternal plan of God is too wonderful for me to express or comprehend. And the laughs and moments and streaking meteorites and chilled extremities and the weird balloon thing we launched into the sky are somehow all smaller then the sum total: Before I was saved, life passed me by. Now that I know God, nothing is impossible. Even the small things that are so carefully hidden, so craftily concealed by He who was pleased to reveal the greatest mysteries through childlike hearts, that I can see in hindsight why I needed to hit rock bottom and surrender to Christ before I could see any of this. It's all too simple and beautiful for a worldly person to even notice, let alone care about, let alone appreciate. Praise be to God, for He is slowly melting my cold, cold heart.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Thanks Be to God for Growth, Even the Painful Kind
When God brings someone to Bible college, man can't know all his reasons for it. But some lessons reveal deeper motives on his part: Will God become an object of study or will study draw you closer to him? Will you stand by him even when the discipline and refining process exhumes baggage that has been dormant inside you for decades?
I sit here feeling such a profound sense of pleasure in knowing him, and too much has happened for me to articulate why. But all I know is a part of the old me died last night, and all it took were some pretty simple (and silly!) acts of fellowship. Earlier this week I asked God for some encouragement, and he delivered by the truckload.
If I am being vague, it's not because I don't want to share the details. It's because if I am going to share them with you, whoever may read this, it needs to be across a table and over a coffee. The static inhumanity of technology is proving increasingly insufficient when it comes to spreading the good news. It's been a crutch, I think.
I sit here feeling such a profound sense of pleasure in knowing him, and too much has happened for me to articulate why. But all I know is a part of the old me died last night, and all it took were some pretty simple (and silly!) acts of fellowship. Earlier this week I asked God for some encouragement, and he delivered by the truckload.
If I am being vague, it's not because I don't want to share the details. It's because if I am going to share them with you, whoever may read this, it needs to be across a table and over a coffee. The static inhumanity of technology is proving increasingly insufficient when it comes to spreading the good news. It's been a crutch, I think.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
My Second Rebirthday
The purpose of this blog is to praise God. Seems simple enough, right? The truth is it has its shortcomings. For one thing, my mandate in starting the thing is kind of doomed to mediocrity; I can't possibly write about everything He blesses me with, even the tiny fraction I notice. Also, there are some things I should thank Him for every day, and on this occasion I realize that I fall short in that area as well. But the balance is in taking Him seriously, surrendering my entire self to Him, and dedicating some time every day to fellowshiping with Him in prayer (still working on all three as disciplines). But I would be remiss if I didn't praise Him for what is a very special anniversary for me.
Two years ago this day, there was a man who was under the thumb of drugs and depression, dead in transgression, with the wrath of God poised to crush him. And out of sheer grace and love, Jesus Christ made such a powerful appeal that this undeserving fellow actually decided to take a chance on following God. It was in my bedroom, having picked up a Bible that had been given me some three years earlier by Monte and Natalie, following a chat I had with their parents. I tried reading it in 2004, but I was judgmental and foolish in my heart at the time. But when I cracked it again on 11 October 2007, something different happened. I just... plain... believed. That too was a gift from heaven. I was suddenly gripped with this intense joy, like a million childhood Christmases. It was freedom. This heat filled my entire being, even my "dead" skin cells like hair (what I had of the stuff!). It was an encounter, to be sure.
I've since learned that I can't "convince" people of what happened. I hope and pray that those of you who know me have observed some changes in my life, because I've had to interpret them as happening within every component that composes "me." And it's been surreal to say the least. But it happened. If you are among my brothers and sisters in the Lord, be encouraged. Praise Him. He is faithful. If you happen to have stumbled onto this by any chain of events, I would tell you to ask Him for the same thing, but it has to be from a place of faith. At least that was my experience. I don't know why He chose the time He did, or the circumstances, but He worked within the context of all my horrible choices and my limitless sin. So I know it can happen for anyone.
Please don't read any arrogance into this post. I can certainly slip into modalities of pride, and it happens more frequently than I'd care to admit. But this post is special to me. It's a time to pause and reflect upon just how much God has done for me in two short years. I have more friends than I made in the preceding 27. I have been more involved in my community and in personal development than I ever cared about prior to my conversion experience. I have an absolute lust for life (real life, not the kind I lived before I felt the Holy Spirit dwell inside me) than I thought possible. And I praise God for all these things.
9 October 2009
I would also mention, because I am in the habit of combining posts, and because this is a special praise note indeed, that I received the pleasure of my friend Devin's company on Friday. He was passing through the area, and, as always, I refrain from using last names. But he's been a dear brother to me, and it was great to get caught up. God constantly finds ways to wink and wave at me through divine appointments, and I have felt Him tugging at my heart with more conviction all the time. This year will be a tremendous challenge; I say that with a great degree of ignorance because I won't know until it's past. But I can say that I have every reason to trust in His faithfulness, and I hope you all will praise Him for how He saved you too or has made provision for it!
Two years ago this day, there was a man who was under the thumb of drugs and depression, dead in transgression, with the wrath of God poised to crush him. And out of sheer grace and love, Jesus Christ made such a powerful appeal that this undeserving fellow actually decided to take a chance on following God. It was in my bedroom, having picked up a Bible that had been given me some three years earlier by Monte and Natalie, following a chat I had with their parents. I tried reading it in 2004, but I was judgmental and foolish in my heart at the time. But when I cracked it again on 11 October 2007, something different happened. I just... plain... believed. That too was a gift from heaven. I was suddenly gripped with this intense joy, like a million childhood Christmases. It was freedom. This heat filled my entire being, even my "dead" skin cells like hair (what I had of the stuff!). It was an encounter, to be sure.
I've since learned that I can't "convince" people of what happened. I hope and pray that those of you who know me have observed some changes in my life, because I've had to interpret them as happening within every component that composes "me." And it's been surreal to say the least. But it happened. If you are among my brothers and sisters in the Lord, be encouraged. Praise Him. He is faithful. If you happen to have stumbled onto this by any chain of events, I would tell you to ask Him for the same thing, but it has to be from a place of faith. At least that was my experience. I don't know why He chose the time He did, or the circumstances, but He worked within the context of all my horrible choices and my limitless sin. So I know it can happen for anyone.
Please don't read any arrogance into this post. I can certainly slip into modalities of pride, and it happens more frequently than I'd care to admit. But this post is special to me. It's a time to pause and reflect upon just how much God has done for me in two short years. I have more friends than I made in the preceding 27. I have been more involved in my community and in personal development than I ever cared about prior to my conversion experience. I have an absolute lust for life (real life, not the kind I lived before I felt the Holy Spirit dwell inside me) than I thought possible. And I praise God for all these things.
9 October 2009
I would also mention, because I am in the habit of combining posts, and because this is a special praise note indeed, that I received the pleasure of my friend Devin's company on Friday. He was passing through the area, and, as always, I refrain from using last names. But he's been a dear brother to me, and it was great to get caught up. God constantly finds ways to wink and wave at me through divine appointments, and I have felt Him tugging at my heart with more conviction all the time. This year will be a tremendous challenge; I say that with a great degree of ignorance because I won't know until it's past. But I can say that I have every reason to trust in His faithfulness, and I hope you all will praise Him for how He saved you too or has made provision for it!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Briercrest in Perspective
Going backwards again.
5 October 2009 (10:34 p.m.)
God has a way about Him that is impossible to describe, but I shall try to offer a keyhole's glimpse. I just had a very odd experience reading about Christian history. The curriculum covers 2000 years of history over two semesters, so we necessarily study hundreds of years at a time. In other words, broadly. But the past few weeks have been a slower pace, and we've been trapped in the fourth century learning about Constantine and the Council of Nicaea, and such pillars as Athanasius, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Ambrose of Milan. (After suffering through the half-Christian works of Justin Martyr, Origen, et al, it's kind of nice to encounter five in a row that seem to have their theology in order.) But I was suddenly swooned by the Spirit in reading about how Ambrose had been a governor when the Roman Empire was swamped in Arianism (which argued that Christ was created) and was elected bishop because of his popularity. In spite of the fact he wasn't even a believer. And to read some of his statements in defense of the faith is just, well, beautiful. God took hold of him. And when I got the part about how he baptized a young fellow by the name of Augustine, who had been drifting from his faith, it just makes me feel so intimately conscious of how my faith is not a product of the twenty-first century. There is a continuum that started before creation, and God has invited me into it despite my infinite unworthiness (that's the only infinite part of us humans). And for what it's worth, I felt compelled to share that.
5 October 2009 (2:00 a.m.)
I was trying to pull an all-nighter when the power suddenly went out. It was frustrating, but it focused me on God at a time when I probably would have been content to "get some work done." We were overdue for a good heart to heart, not for a lack of effort on His part. The truth is, being at such an academically rich college is a double-edged sword. Because this place is accredited and all my courses can be instantly transferred to several Canadian universities, the requirements tend to be study heavy--which can bury the discipleship and practical elements at times. On more than a few occasions God has seemed as if He were an otherworldly object of study, rather than a personal, jealous Creator who burns with love for us. At present I am struggling to finish some weekly reading for tomorrow, and I will probably be permitted to stay up a little later than the ideal (though not as late as this morning). So, with that in mind, it's nice when God forces the issue onto us that we are to keep things in check and our eyes focused on Him.
Last week
Seriously, God has blessed me so much that I would have to multiply the hours in a day to report it all. All I can do to compensate is make a very generalized statement about how wonderful it is to be surrounded by wonderful and genuine people. I couldn't name them all, but He sends them my way in a flurry of divine appointments every passing day, and He should be recognized and praised for His faithfulness in this.
5 October 2009 (10:34 p.m.)
God has a way about Him that is impossible to describe, but I shall try to offer a keyhole's glimpse. I just had a very odd experience reading about Christian history. The curriculum covers 2000 years of history over two semesters, so we necessarily study hundreds of years at a time. In other words, broadly. But the past few weeks have been a slower pace, and we've been trapped in the fourth century learning about Constantine and the Council of Nicaea, and such pillars as Athanasius, Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Ambrose of Milan. (After suffering through the half-Christian works of Justin Martyr, Origen, et al, it's kind of nice to encounter five in a row that seem to have their theology in order.) But I was suddenly swooned by the Spirit in reading about how Ambrose had been a governor when the Roman Empire was swamped in Arianism (which argued that Christ was created) and was elected bishop because of his popularity. In spite of the fact he wasn't even a believer. And to read some of his statements in defense of the faith is just, well, beautiful. God took hold of him. And when I got the part about how he baptized a young fellow by the name of Augustine, who had been drifting from his faith, it just makes me feel so intimately conscious of how my faith is not a product of the twenty-first century. There is a continuum that started before creation, and God has invited me into it despite my infinite unworthiness (that's the only infinite part of us humans). And for what it's worth, I felt compelled to share that.
5 October 2009 (2:00 a.m.)
I was trying to pull an all-nighter when the power suddenly went out. It was frustrating, but it focused me on God at a time when I probably would have been content to "get some work done." We were overdue for a good heart to heart, not for a lack of effort on His part. The truth is, being at such an academically rich college is a double-edged sword. Because this place is accredited and all my courses can be instantly transferred to several Canadian universities, the requirements tend to be study heavy--which can bury the discipleship and practical elements at times. On more than a few occasions God has seemed as if He were an otherworldly object of study, rather than a personal, jealous Creator who burns with love for us. At present I am struggling to finish some weekly reading for tomorrow, and I will probably be permitted to stay up a little later than the ideal (though not as late as this morning). So, with that in mind, it's nice when God forces the issue onto us that we are to keep things in check and our eyes focused on Him.
Last week
Seriously, God has blessed me so much that I would have to multiply the hours in a day to report it all. All I can do to compensate is make a very generalized statement about how wonderful it is to be surrounded by wonderful and genuine people. I couldn't name them all, but He sends them my way in a flurry of divine appointments every passing day, and He should be recognized and praised for His faithfulness in this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
