Leaving Part Two

I left Summit Semester and Snow Wolf Lodge for the second time today. It was much smoother than last year's departure. Saying goodbye to the staff and the lone remaining student wasn't fun, but it wasn't anything like the near despair of last year.

Being back at SWL was slightly overwhelming at first. There are so many memories that I will forever associate with a particular group of 27 students I call my Semester family. But it was also good to be with the class of 2010 and get to know them briefly. They are (were?) a great class, and I pray they transition well back into the real world.

It's possible that I may have soaked in more of this year's graduation than I did last year. Last year, I was so obsessed with getting the slide show video done that I didn't focus on much else for the last few days. Graduation was filled with high highs and low lows with the success of the video and the goodbyes that quickly followed.

This year was different. I had a week to process all the emotions of leaving, this time with a year of separation. In many ways, I want to treat this as a second chance to implement the lessons of Semester into everyday life in practical ways, such as intentionally making time for relationships, scheduling my time, and limiting media.

It was so good to again be at Snow Wolf Lodge and Summit Semester. It was different going back, kind of like Narnia. It will always be different, but it will be good. And like Narnia, trips to Snow Wolf Lodge are important in of themselves, but ultimately, the real test is how life is lived in the real world. It seems simple enough, but it much harder to live.

May I study well, live well, love well, and be faithful, for Christ and His Kingdom.

Martyrs and Matters of Life and Death - Part 1

The Christian faith is just as much about death as it is life.

Yet, most American Christians have no idea what a good death is. Most of them probably think that's an oxymoron.

This is one of those 'tough questions that no one else is asking' that Summit Ministries is willing to address. And I'm grateful. At the Summit student conference this summer, one line that kept coming up was "Death is not the ultimate evil." One of the four major questions we ponder for three months at Summit Semester is "What is a good death, and what good is death?"

We have Life because of the Good Death - the death of the Son of God on a cross. And we are given this Life when we too die. I am commanded to daily pick up my cross and follow Jesus, for I am crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives in me.

We don't really understand this in the American Church today. I think there are a couple reasons why, and I'll address these in upcoming posts.
1. Our culture doesn't understand death.
2. The prosperity gospel completely skews what life, death, and success really are.
3. The American Church doesn't understand real discipleship.
4. While we need to discuss death, we are not called to cultivate a culture of death like Islam.

I don't have the references, but this definitely stuck out to me in class Monday night. In the 1800s, waves of missionaries went to Africa, even though they knew the terrible statistics. 90% of missionaries would be dead within two years of arriving in Africa. Rather than shipping their goods in trunks, they packed their belongings in their own coffins. And yet missionaries continued to come, and slowly the Gospel spread. Ralph Winter, founder of the US Center for World Missions, commented that he didn't think his generation had the guts to do that. And if his generation didn't, mine certainly doesn't.

I'm not trying to be morbid or masochistic here, but this is not an issue that can simply be ignored. To quote Jim Elliot, martyred by the Auca/Huaorani tribe in Ecuador, "He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."

My Life and Hebrews 12

I wrote this about two weeks ago, but I haven't had regular internet access until today.

In many ways, this reflects the journey I've been on the past three years. In many ways, it specifically reflects the experiences of this summer.


Stirred dust billows high
As the cross I shouldered long ago
Scrapes the desert sand.
Falling, I scream at the cloudless sky.
"Do you know how heavy this thing is?
Have you brought me into the wilderness to die?"

The silence is shattered.
Long awaited answers come,
Not as I had hoped
But as a slap in the face.
Yet I find a gentle embrace
Awakening truth, renewing reality.

"Yes, it is heavy. I know the burden well.
But you have not yet begun
To shed your blood in this fight!
It is my blood that stained your hands.
And it is my blood that stains your heart,
Making you righteous, whiter than snow.

"I have brought you to this wilderness
Yes, you must learn to die,
But this is for my glory and your life.
Do not despise this testing.
I discipline those I love.
Strengthen your knees and run well the race."

And now the silence is all mine.
I ponder the intimacy found in the desert,
Being given what I need
But never would have chosen.
Considering the joy of Him who endured,
I fix my eyes. I will trust. I will obey.

Waiting Game...take two

It seems like waiting has been a constant theme for the past year or two, probably cause its a constant theme in life. We walk by faith, not by sight, and thus we don't always know where we're going. It's part of the Christian life - waiting on God, keeping in step with the Spirit.

But its kind of a new experience to be on this side of the waiting game, knowing the direction I am to take and having peace about it, just waiting on the timing. It's not to say I enjoy this, but in some ways it does seem to be easier than the former task of waiting for insight, direction, and peace. I think the struggle for peace over worry is always an issue, to some degree, and there are new challenges. Rather than feeling stranded and confused with no direction, I'm experiencing a time in which I know what I am called to do, and I wait, restraining the passion within me for the time and situations God will appoint. Kind of like the guys walking to Emmaus, I feel like my heart is burning within me, as God has shown me His word and His plan like I have never seen before.

We're more than halfway through this year, and while the time has flown by (prompting a blogging-leave-of-absence), it's exciting. I wrote six months ago that "I know 2009 will be a time of change and transition, and I'm not sure I'm ready. But my God is faithful." God is faithful, and He has brought me thus far. I'm excited about the little I see of His coming plan and I know that now, as I wait, He is preparing me, even as He prepared me for what I have already experienced this year.

So I'm waiting, but I'm at peace. I'm excited for what God is doing. I'm resting in His faithfulness and seeking His face. There's no better place to be.

Resurrection

Birthdays are overrated. I know, because I recently had one. But beyond the superficiality, it's made me think. About life. About my accomplishments thus far. About my failures. About dreams and goals and plans. About my calling. About who I am. And about who God wants me to be.

This past year brought many changes. Some of them were great and beautiful. But I also saw my world come to a crashing halt as hopes and dreams died a cruel death-at the hands of organized religion.

My God is a God of resurrection. My hope is in Him, and He will accomplish His plans for my life.

But it's the getting there, the waiting, the silence, the uncertainty that brings so much pain. Yet it is in these things - because of them, not in spite of them- that growth occurs. New life begins to bud. Resurrection appears.

Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.

My heart is parched and burning. I'm not there yet. I don't even know what "there" is. But I'm ready. I'm ready to surrender. I'm ready for God to take the brokenness and hurt. I'm ready to know His discipline. I'm ready to know the death and pain and darkness of the cross ...

...because I want to know new life. I want to know His glory. I want to know resurrection.

Wake up, O sleeper.
Rise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.