Archive for December, 2009

Prayer: We need work

Nine of us have been living in this house since August of this year. Each one of us have found work except Matt and I. Matt is the pastor of our church and we are both at the end of our ropes financially. We know that God will come through and have joined in prayer with each other and others from our church, friends and family.

One of the things that gets me excited at seeing a community of people come together in prayer is the reality that a community that prays together celebrates together when the prayer is answered. I see this in Colossians 4:2 when Paul encourages the church to not only continue in prayer but to also watch their prayers be answered and give thanks together. So we’re all gonna party it up once God provides Matt and I work! Matt, myself and our good buddy Johny Walker!

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God sized

GOD-and-man
One of my hobbies is riding my road bike. Kinda like Lance Armstrong, just not as far nor as fast. Since moving from Simi Valley to Long Beach this past August, I’ve put to good use the bike paths that follow the LA river to and from the ocean. I didn’t have much going on yesterday, so I took my 18lbs of two wheeled freedom out for a ride.

The bike paths that follow the river have been constructed to go under each cross street, which is great since you never have to stop, AND you get a small 20 foot slope to speed down and another one to climb up every half mile which somewhat breaks up the monotony of the otherwise flat ride. About 30 minutes into my ride I was climbing back up one of these 20 foot slopes and came face to face with a 13′ tall 20 ton clean up truck straddling the entire width of the bike path. Without a thought I squeezed my brakes and skidded to a stop. I stood there in the stillness of the moment gazing at this huge truck. I couldn’t go around it, I couldn’t move it, and I definitely couldn’t go through it. So I stood and stared. It was then I saw a guy walk around from behind the truck. He noticed me and raised his hand to show me his gloved palm. I wasn’t sure what he meant but he began to move tools aside which cleared an opening on the shoulder of the bike path. He smiled and waved me through. I proceeded slowly and had soon left the truck and man behind me.

For the rest of the ride I couldn’t stop thinking about my experience with the truck. I thought of how when face to face with the truck, there was no question in my mind that I was the less powerful than the truck and it created in me a sense of respect that I wouldn’t necessarily have for something like a Hot Wheels car. I loved Hot Wheels cars growing up, not just because they were little pieces of metallic coolness, but I made them do what I wanted them to do. I was in control of where my Hot Wheels were going, how fast they were tearing down the road, or which ramp they were going to use to fly across the living room while I watched The Dukes of Hazard on TV. That clean up truck, on the other hand, had more control over me than I did of it. Not only did I respect it, but for a few moments found myself in awe of its size and power; the very qualities I humbly respected.

Then I started thinking about God. How much more respect and awe does He deserve than a huge clean up truck? When was the last time that I was truly in awe of who He was? How are the ways that I don’t show him the respect that He so rightly deserves? It’s hard for me to keep God in His rightful place in my mind. I notice that He starts becoming more and more like a Hot Wheels car, that I can pull out of my toy box and play with at my leisure. I need to take time daily to meditate on what the Bible says about Him. I need to daily recapture that awe and respect of who He is and grow in them. I know that at the top of that 20 foot slope I had come face to face with that Almighty God, I wouldn’t have simply stopped and looked for a few seconds. For the first time in my life, I would have known what incomprehensible awe felt like. I want to know the true majesty of God and live my life in the wake of His glory.

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dirty dinner or dirty heart?

120109_fail
I failed tonight and I need to confess my pride and lack of love. One of my roommates was assigned to cook dinner for the rest of the roommates that were planning to be home tonight. I love this guy, but he’s not as crazy about being clean as I am. This really isn’t a problem for me except when preparation of food is involved.

I walked into the kitchen to see how things were going. He was having fun cooking for all of us, but I noticed him using his mouth and the shorts he had worn all day to clean off his hands between chopping veggies, making sauces, straining pasta, and picking up food off the ground. It was great to see him enjoy himself, but as he touched all the food, I kept asking myself, “Am I really going to eat that?”

As I continued watching him cook, I remembered a story a friend had told me. He was visiting a number of remote villages in Burma while volunteering with a missions organization for a month. At a particular village he was presented with a plate of what was the most unappetizing substance he had ever seen and was expected to eat it. He said it looked and smelled like a plate of rotting meat paste. He took a bite not because he was up for the culinary adventure of a lifetime, but because of the people who gave him the dish. This was their way of welcoming him and giving him honor.

The situation I found myself in wasn’t nearly as difficult as my friend’s situation in his story. I was convicted. I needed to eat the food that my roommate was getting ready for me. He was loving me by cooking. I needed to love him by eating what he cooked. I did eat it and it was tasty, but I still struggled so much with laying down my own fanaticism about cleanliness and wasn’t able to fully enjoy what my roommate had done for me and our time together as we ate. I don’t love my roommate enough. I need to love him more and love myself less.

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