Jesus with Mud On

I asked God a year and a half ago to teach me to depend on him, and I've found out he's not through. In Ireland I learned what it is like to not depend on people, and this past week I learned what it is like to not depend on things.

Before Social Justice Week even began, I lost my wallet. I found myself without money, without an abundance of food or sleep, without dry clothes, and stressed.

But I also found something outside myself. I found Jesus. He was worshiping in a cold morning rain after a bad night's lack of sleep, he was slogging through a muddy field to clean up after others. He was Danielle, he was Shane, he was Stephen, he was Jessie. He was Jesus with mud on.

aspire.

I don't remember my childhood aspirations.

Although at one point, watching the Olympics, I said, "Mommy, I will do gymnastics. And you will clap."

My mom doesn't remember what I wanted to be either. But she did say that I was "quite passionate and zealous" at whatever I did.

I don't remember any specifics, wanting to be a ballerina. Or a princess. Nah, those were career choices of a normal girl. If I had picked anything it would have probably been a tree-climber. Or a writer. Or an "Illistrater". But I don't know what I wanted to do.

But I do remember what I wanted to be. It was probably when I was 8 or 10 or 12 or something. I remember thinking, "Whatever I do, I want everyone in the world to know who Hannah Chupp is." I aspired to something along the lines of George Washington. Or Coca Cola. Everyone in the world knows what Coke is. I remember hearing how people in India knew the name of Coca Cola, but not the name of Jesus Christ. I remember hearing that and thinking, "Yes. I want to be just like that."

How blatantly self-seeking. "I want my name to be known by everyone. I want my name to be bigger than the name of Jesus Christ."

How often I still seek and promote myself. But how horridly subtle now it is. Of course now I shout that Jesus' name must be proclaimed, but how does my life proclaim it? Jesus Christ, the creator of infinite universe and of my very being, was betrayed, denied, flayed, and condemned by those he had created, tormented by the being he had cast out of heaven, and crushed by the sin that should have damned me.

And what is my response to his glorious suffering for me? *SNOOZE* "I'm too tired to read my Bible this morning." Honestly? Is that the most I can do?

Let me aspire to be second.



http://www.iamsecond.com/#/seconds/Pete_Briscoe/ (this is my pastor from home)

LIVE THIS.

Acts 4:32-35

Now the full number of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things that belonged to him was his own, but they had everything in common. And with great power the apostles were giving their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as were owners of lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold and laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

jpusa.org

God talked to me in church today...

(surprising, eh?)

The passage was 2 Timothy 1:7-14, and Darren was talking about the calling of God on our lives. Darren kept mentioning how following God's call is not an easy thing to do, but once God has called you, it's like there is absolutely nothing else you can do. He compared it to being in love with someone and saying not "I can live with them" but "I can't live without them".

I started thanking God for the call he's given me, for how excited I am to do something, go someplace, to Ireland, to Rwanda, to Russia, to Guatemala, to India. But then God asked me, "Are you willing to serve me when it's boring? Are you willing to not go somewhere exotic? What if I tell you to live in the States?"

And my heart sank.

And I didn't know what to say.

And thus, after only 5 pages of reading, Hannah took a break from homework.

I was reading the chapter on Creation in A Faith for All Seasons for my Historic Christian Belief class tomorrow and came upon this phrase that made me think. I'll put it in context for you.

Here Edwards distinguished between what has been called God's necessary work and God's free work. It is necessary for God the Father to beget the Son and exist on the high order of Trinity in order to delight in himself. Otherwise God would not be God. But God needs nothing outside of himself in order to be completely happy with who he is.

Can you guess the sentence? "But God needs nothing outside of himself in order to be completely happy with who he is." Can you guess what phrase? To be happy. 

I guess I really never thought of God being happy before. God seems like he would be glad, or appreciative, or admiring. But happy? God seems more dignified than that.

Then I remember verses like Zephaniah 3:17, which, come to think of it, is our room verse.

The Lord your God is in your midst,

A mighty one who will save;

He will rejoice over you with gladness;

He will quiet you with his love;

He will exult over you with loud singing.

God is glad, yes, but not a dignified sort of glad. He rejoices - a verb that implies excitement. And then look at that last phrase, my favorite. Loud singing!

When you think of God, put away the refined picture in your head. Paint a new one, a God who sings loudly, rejoices, and is happy.

sympathies and prayers

Today at work a kid (okay, he was about my age, a bit younger perhaps, maybe 17?) asked to use the phone. I forget his name, but he said, "My phone just died, and I need to call my friend to pick me up." So then I went about my business, helping other customers and pretending not to listen.

"Hey Emily? It's [Kid's Name Here]. Yeah, my phone died, and I need to call Lance. He was supposed to pick me up, like, an hour ago. ... I'm at a Christian bookstore. .... He's getting math tutoring right now. ... Yeah, that's what I was wondering. ... Don't worry, I'm gonna be at youth tonight. Yeah. ... Could you give me his number? ... Mmk... Thanks."

[Call to Lance] "Hey Lance, man, I'm still at ... ... Dude, are you serious? ... Where are you? ... I mean, what happened? ... Is everyone okay? ... Alright then, I guess I'll see you. ... Bye."

As I overheard this one-sided conversation (am I less suspicious if I say I'm an undercover reporter?) I immediately knew what was happened. Then this poor kid who was stranded at Mardel and whose name I have completely forgotten confirmed my suspicions - Lance had been in a wreck.

So Lance, if you ever by some odd chance read this, know that on the afternoon of July 9, 2008, I was praying for you. I was in a crash last December. It was my fault, and it was horrifying. I honestly thought I was going to die (then I started thinking about how this would screw up my parents' auto insurance). God's good, though, Lance, and my accident showed me very specific intricacies of his goodness. I'm praying you see them too.