I remember that when I was younger, I used to think it would be awful to have to wear glasses. It wasn't because I thought they looked strange. In fact, I was known to try on a pair or two just to evaluate the cosmetic effect. ( Nevermind the fact that it kills my eyes to look through prescription glasses.) No, it wasn't for appearance that I loathed the thought of wearing glasses, but rather the thought of admitting that one part of my body had failed.
I reluctantly admit that I battle perfectionist tendencies. Not that I believe that seeking perfection is a bad thing. Jesus is perfect, and I long to be like Him as all Christians do. It's the bit about being displeased with anything that is not perfect that I won't let pitch a tent in my mind. Jesus loves us, beings that are far from perfection. So, why should I fear imperfection?
Plenty of reasons: discontentment, boredom, loneliness, rejection, worthlessness.
All reasons that vanish in the light of the Gospel and are quickly replaced with "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control" (Gal. 5:22) The blinding light of the Gospel is this: God loves me. I didn't do a single thing to earn it. I was dead and He gave me life. I was lost and now I'm found.
Suppose I DID need glasses, but I never knew. The world would have looked dull and blurred. But, I wouldn't have known the difference. And, I didn't. Until, I started to meet people who did. I met people who were sick but still had joy. I met people who admitted their own failures, awful things that they had done or thought or said, but didn't cower in fear of man or of death. I met people who were hungry, but smiled widely. Graciously, God did give me glasses: He gave me the Law.
I slipped them onto my eyes and saw the world as it really was. The sun shone brighter, blood appeared redder, mountains rose higher and valleys stooped lower. I looked at myself and found a tattered being: scratched, beaten, bruised, and dirty. I wanted to lay the glasses aside because it was too painful to see the world in disarray and to see myself as I truly am. But, there was something different about those who could see: they had peace and hope and unending joy.
They told me about a Doctor. He could heal me, they said. He had healed many others. But, did the operation actually work? Did this Doctor even exist? What if I didn't like what I saw?
I relented my fears. I abandoned my control. I accepted the help from the Doctor.
As I opened my eyes to see for the first time, I squinted and held my breath as I lowered my head to gaze again upon my own brokenness. But just then, my eyes burst open wide, my throat began to tighten, my eyes began to glisten. I was as good as new.
He handed me His card. "Tell others about Me," He said. He shone His face upon me and I walked lightly to the door. I looked down and flipped the card over. On the back, I slowly read the shining letters written in large handwriting: "Making all things new."
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Sara (noun)
Say-ruh
1. an ear to hear your thoughts,
a mouth to ask the questions,
eyes wet with sympathetic tears,
a new self battling an old self,
a sponge soaked with teaching,
a box of paradoxes,
a cedar of lebanon waiting to be a stump;
full of dreams...
...like dancing, never missing a beat,
...enseƱando el evangelio al mundo,
...swimming as effortlessly as the dolphins;
living in a body i didn't create,
a walking witness of His grace,
living, breathing, without want,
10 years old in the Kingdom,
and still choking on solid food,
learning to wait,
commanded to know nothing but Jesus and Him crucified,
from the enraged two's to the passive twenties,
waiting for your approval,
knowing only the One matters,
wanting the one thing i cannot have.
2. a human,
made to live forever,
invited into eternity,
to be a princess, not by law
but by a Gift that cannot be repaid
by His kindness,
being led to repentance. (Romans 2:4)
1. an ear to hear your thoughts,
a mouth to ask the questions,
eyes wet with sympathetic tears,
a new self battling an old self,
a sponge soaked with teaching,
a box of paradoxes,
a cedar of lebanon waiting to be a stump;
full of dreams...
...like dancing, never missing a beat,
...enseƱando el evangelio al mundo,
...swimming as effortlessly as the dolphins;
living in a body i didn't create,
a walking witness of His grace,
living, breathing, without want,
10 years old in the Kingdom,
and still choking on solid food,
learning to wait,
commanded to know nothing but Jesus and Him crucified,
from the enraged two's to the passive twenties,
waiting for your approval,
knowing only the One matters,
wanting the one thing i cannot have.
2. a human,
made to live forever,
invited into eternity,
to be a princess, not by law
but by a Gift that cannot be repaid
by His kindness,
being led to repentance. (Romans 2:4)
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Escaping from the Big Fish
When did I stop believing that God has me where I am for a reason?
When did I stop believing that God answers my prayers?
In a few short months, I will complete my college undergraduate degree. Yet, only a few days ago, my cheeks were again damp as anxiety and uncertainty streamed down my face. What followed: A mother's tender concern. A counselor's wise advice. A preacher's true testimonies. And, a long-standing truth: The Lord prepares the way for His people.
While listening to the sermon recommended to me by my mother, the Lord impressed on my heart that I am where I am for a reason, that He has answered my prayers. That like Jonah, I have doubts about where God is sending me. Even though many times I doubted my major choice and considered changing, the Lord would always send some confirmation to me: a career skills test, a woman's prophetic words, a confirmation from a past teacher, an encouraging word from a current teacher... All the while, I prayed and trusted that God was guiding me.
God will answer those prayers.
I believe that(.)
I will like it in Ninevah.
When did I stop believing that God answers my prayers?
In a few short months, I will complete my college undergraduate degree. Yet, only a few days ago, my cheeks were again damp as anxiety and uncertainty streamed down my face. What followed: A mother's tender concern. A counselor's wise advice. A preacher's true testimonies. And, a long-standing truth: The Lord prepares the way for His people.
While listening to the sermon recommended to me by my mother, the Lord impressed on my heart that I am where I am for a reason, that He has answered my prayers. That like Jonah, I have doubts about where God is sending me. Even though many times I doubted my major choice and considered changing, the Lord would always send some confirmation to me: a career skills test, a woman's prophetic words, a confirmation from a past teacher, an encouraging word from a current teacher... All the while, I prayed and trusted that God was guiding me.
God will answer those prayers.
I believe that(.)
I will like it in Ninevah.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Sharing
Some things are so good, I can't keep them all to myself.
Sometimes sharing costs me nothing...
Last night, I was having a conversation with a friend who expressed interest in teaching in the future. He isn't an education major, so my first thought was to suggest to him a program that I know of that recruits professionals in all disciplines to underprivileged schools in America whether or not they have an education degree. He thanked me genuinely, and we went our separate ways.
Sometimes sharing costs me something...
Earlier tonight, I reached into the cabinet to grab a granola bar, a chocolate and oat granola bar of the highest and tastiest quality. I quickly calculated that there were two left, one for me and one for our guest sitting several feet away in our living room. Yet, simultaneously, I reasoned what a shame it would be to give away such a delicacy. In the end, my state of sanctification won out, and I offered the granola bar to our guest with a high recommendation.
Sometimes not sharing costs others a lot.
Our guest from the previous story didn't accept before thoughtfully asking, "Are you sure you want to give it away?" By God's grace, my mind quickly made the connection: "It's kind of like the Gospel. Some things are too good not to share."
Sometimes sharing costs me nothing...
Last night, I was having a conversation with a friend who expressed interest in teaching in the future. He isn't an education major, so my first thought was to suggest to him a program that I know of that recruits professionals in all disciplines to underprivileged schools in America whether or not they have an education degree. He thanked me genuinely, and we went our separate ways.
Sometimes sharing costs me something...
Earlier tonight, I reached into the cabinet to grab a granola bar, a chocolate and oat granola bar of the highest and tastiest quality. I quickly calculated that there were two left, one for me and one for our guest sitting several feet away in our living room. Yet, simultaneously, I reasoned what a shame it would be to give away such a delicacy. In the end, my state of sanctification won out, and I offered the granola bar to our guest with a high recommendation.
Sometimes not sharing costs others a lot.
Our guest from the previous story didn't accept before thoughtfully asking, "Are you sure you want to give it away?" By God's grace, my mind quickly made the connection: "It's kind of like the Gospel. Some things are too good not to share."
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Selfless but not joyless
In the parable of the talents (Matthew 25), the master of the house blesses the two servants who were good stewards of what they had been given. These servants took what they were given and doubled it. Their blessing: "Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things."
So, we worked hard and now, as a reward, we have more work to do?...
Sounds fishy, but here's the catch: doing the work of the Lord brings us joy because it is what we were designed to do.
Pursue selflessness, receive joy.
Pursue joy, receive emptiness.
So, we worked hard and now, as a reward, we have more work to do?...
Sounds fishy, but here's the catch: doing the work of the Lord brings us joy because it is what we were designed to do.
Pursue selflessness, receive joy.
Pursue joy, receive emptiness.
Friday, December 5, 2008
The standards we set
Do you ever feel you've set your standards so high that it inhibits you from ever trying to reach them?
I see the beauty in a woman's manicured hand.
Yet, it seems so beyond reach that I don't dare try.
...testifies my short, hastily cut fingernails.
I see the beauty in careful, flowing handwriting.
Yet, legibility seems to be my most attainable goal.
...testifies my future students while attempting to read the chalkboard.
I see the beauty in well formulated speech.
Yet, while always desirable, disillusionment ensues from lack of clarity and timeliness.
...testifies my friends who wait patiently as I stumble through my thoughts.
I see the beauty in a lifelong friendship.
Yet, the burdens of distance and the anticipation of new associations make me falter.
...testifies life-changing relationships that have come and gone.
Where is the beauty?
I see the beauty in God:
Does (blank) draw me closer to Him? -James 4:8
Does (blank) please Him? -2 Corinthians 5:9
Is (blank) done in the name of the Lord Jesus? -Colossians 3:17
Does (blank) increase my knowledge of Him? -Ephesians 1:17
Where is the beauty?
I see the beauty in God:
A father embraces a son who has squandered his inheritance.
A man returns again and again to his adulteress wife.
The majestic presence of a mighty God is found in the silence of a whisper.
A flower of the field, here today and gone tomorrow, appears more beautiful than the richest king's robes.
A new covenant for all people arrives wrapped in the vulnerability and dependency of a small child.
I see the beauty in God.
A beauty worth pursuing.
I see the beauty in a woman's manicured hand.
Yet, it seems so beyond reach that I don't dare try.
...testifies my short, hastily cut fingernails.
I see the beauty in careful, flowing handwriting.
Yet, legibility seems to be my most attainable goal.
...testifies my future students while attempting to read the chalkboard.
I see the beauty in well formulated speech.
Yet, while always desirable, disillusionment ensues from lack of clarity and timeliness.
...testifies my friends who wait patiently as I stumble through my thoughts.
I see the beauty in a lifelong friendship.
Yet, the burdens of distance and the anticipation of new associations make me falter.
...testifies life-changing relationships that have come and gone.
Where is the beauty?
I see the beauty in God:
Does (blank) draw me closer to Him? -James 4:8
Does (blank) please Him? -2 Corinthians 5:9
Is (blank) done in the name of the Lord Jesus? -Colossians 3:17
Does (blank) increase my knowledge of Him? -Ephesians 1:17
Where is the beauty?
I see the beauty in God:
A father embraces a son who has squandered his inheritance.
A man returns again and again to his adulteress wife.
The majestic presence of a mighty God is found in the silence of a whisper.
A flower of the field, here today and gone tomorrow, appears more beautiful than the richest king's robes.
A new covenant for all people arrives wrapped in the vulnerability and dependency of a small child.
I see the beauty in God.
A beauty worth pursuing.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
What I love about teaching
You can be as creative as you want.
Teach multiplication of negative and positive numbers by asking the students to write a short story about how the positive number became negative. Ask, "Have you ever had an experience in your life when your positive attitude turned negative? What was the cause?" Bring the numbers to life. Sure, it may not have much to do with numbers, but it has everything to do with life.
Teach someone not to fear by practicing putting on the imaginary "armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-17)." Buckle on the belt of truth. . .(Show her how to do the same). . .Fasten the breastplate of righteousness to your chest. Put on your sandals, with which to carry the Gospel of peace to the nations. . .(When she cowers in fear, take her hand and help her to continue). . . Take up the shield of faith, and put on the helmet of salvation. . .(When she loses heart, urge her on). . .Finally, take up the sword. And, stab the evil in the throat. . .(When she shrinks back, wrap your arms around her and hold her close. Never give up.)
Teach someone to understand the spiritual by teaching the physical, as Jesus did. So much is packed into the parables that Jesus told. The Prodigal Son. The Woman at the Well. The Wedding at Cana. The Samaritan man. Even at hearing the names of these parables, I am reminded of forgiveness, salvation, hope, newness, grace. While at first just words, these promises come alive in the stories of real people and circumstances.
Teach everything by learning it first. Learn it: Not just for the test, as a list of remote facts in one's mind. Not just for the pride of knowing it. Not just for apprehension. But, rather, for comprehension. Teaching facts that we've memorized and regurgitated is not teaching at all. It would be easier for the student to simply read it in a book. No, we teach what we have learned, using every sense and perception in our body. We've touched it, smelled it, seen it, heard it. Our mind and our spirit tells us it is true. We see it in the sky, in our neighbor, and in the work of our hands. We can bend it and twist it, yet it doesn't break. We can say it with confidence.
We can teach it, as creatively as we want.
Teach multiplication of negative and positive numbers by asking the students to write a short story about how the positive number became negative. Ask, "Have you ever had an experience in your life when your positive attitude turned negative? What was the cause?" Bring the numbers to life. Sure, it may not have much to do with numbers, but it has everything to do with life.
Teach someone not to fear by practicing putting on the imaginary "armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-17)." Buckle on the belt of truth. . .(Show her how to do the same). . .Fasten the breastplate of righteousness to your chest. Put on your sandals, with which to carry the Gospel of peace to the nations. . .(When she cowers in fear, take her hand and help her to continue). . . Take up the shield of faith, and put on the helmet of salvation. . .(When she loses heart, urge her on). . .Finally, take up the sword. And, stab the evil in the throat. . .(When she shrinks back, wrap your arms around her and hold her close. Never give up.)
Teach someone to understand the spiritual by teaching the physical, as Jesus did. So much is packed into the parables that Jesus told. The Prodigal Son. The Woman at the Well. The Wedding at Cana. The Samaritan man. Even at hearing the names of these parables, I am reminded of forgiveness, salvation, hope, newness, grace. While at first just words, these promises come alive in the stories of real people and circumstances.
Teach everything by learning it first. Learn it: Not just for the test, as a list of remote facts in one's mind. Not just for the pride of knowing it. Not just for apprehension. But, rather, for comprehension. Teaching facts that we've memorized and regurgitated is not teaching at all. It would be easier for the student to simply read it in a book. No, we teach what we have learned, using every sense and perception in our body. We've touched it, smelled it, seen it, heard it. Our mind and our spirit tells us it is true. We see it in the sky, in our neighbor, and in the work of our hands. We can bend it and twist it, yet it doesn't break. We can say it with confidence.
We can teach it, as creatively as we want.
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