truth worth repeating. part one.

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith."

Hebrews 12:2

the theme of faith is under girding my life right now: it is the topic of the message series at church; it is the topic of the beth moore study i am walking through with our ladies' study group; and in random daily devotionals; it is on my heart and my mind constantly during my quiet time. it has only been over the course of the last six months that i have - through His grace - begun to experience and understand the difference between the superficial faith that reigned over my life for so many years and this new found authentic faith that [without any effort own my own], naturally inclines my heart towards living what i have i have always claimed to believe.

chloe came home from church sunday singing: ♪ "i know that i know ♪ that i knoooow ♪ that Jesus Christ is Looord ♪ "... which reminds me of that infamous question i mentioned not too long ago: "do you know that you know that you know?". this question is typically asked with the implication of whether or not you know you are "saved"; or have a "right standing before God". it was a question i'd heard often throughout the course of my life. i'd instinctively nod my head whenever it was posed; however, the real question should not have been as to whether or not i claimed to know, or thought i knew - but how i knew... of course, i would've quickly retorted: because i walked that aisle; because i prayed that prayer; because i went to church;

"If your justification for your salvation begins with 'because i...', that is not biblical justification". ~ Dr. David Platt, 9/27/09

because i had believed...

"You believe that there is one God? Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder." James 2:19

it's a rare thing to hear such hard-to-swallow truth in the realm of our contemporary church culture. and for good reason: such truth does not fill the church pews but rather, weeds them out. we are a people who desire to "feel good"; but desperate for truth. but apart from Christ, our desire supersedes our desperation. it's why addiction is rampant, but even in our church culture, it's why lukewarm-ism is rampant; its why joel olsteen has become a multimillionaire by way of giving "pep talks" to a congregation of 43 thousand without so much as cracking open the bible.

"They are counted as righteous because of their faith... but only if they have the same kind of faith Abraham had..". (romans, ch. 4)

faith. oh faith is not what i always thought it was. authenic faith is not content in idleness. it is the faith of Abraham, who wilfully prepared to sacrifice his own child out of obedience to God; it is the faith of Rahab, who wilfully prepared to risk her own life as well as the life of her entire family for the sake of her faith in God. true faith is a willingness to sacrifice everything; to risk everything for the sake of the gospel.

whether or not faith is a gift from God remains a debatable point of contention in christian theology. i'm no biblical scholar but i know this: that is not a kind of faith i could muster up on my own: i could not simply make the decision one random day to trust God so much that i am willing to sacrifice one of my children; or to trust Him so much that i risk the lives - and the livelihood - of my family. that kind of faith, apart from His grace, was not in me. in fact, there was nothing good in me. no, the best i could do was throw myself at His feet and admit that i was incapable of such faith on my own.

i know that i know that i know because Christ... and not because of any action, word or deed of my own will. He called me to Himself, declared me His own and right in front of me, He changed me and instilled in me a faith like i have never known; a faith - and a peace - i could have never concocted on my own.

Jesus alone is "the author and perfecter of our faith". (Hebrews 12:2)

runaway.

Love of my life, Look deep in my eyes,

There you will find what you need

I'm the giver of life, I'll clothe you in white,

My immaculate bride you will be...

Oh come running home to me.

~ tenth avenue north lyrics

as much as i can relate to the parable of the prodigal child, i can relate to the runaway all the more. i have lived most of my life not as a prodigal wanderer, but as a runaway: running home to my Heavenly Father in the darkest hours of my life and yet, abandoning Him by dawn. fleeing to find fulfillment - and myself - apart from Him; striving to find my identity apart from Him. striving and failing; seeking wholeness and returning empty; time and time again.

one of my favorite films [of all time] is "Legends of the Fall" in which brad pitt portrays the character of tristan: a deeply troubled soul who, despite an intense love for his family -especially his father - is a perpetual runaway. he constantly flees the love and stability of his father's house and his father's love; often abruptly. no one is ever sure of where he has gone or for how long; no one knows when or even if he will ever return. yet, the scene of his repeated homecomings remain unchanged: his father stands and offers his outstretched arms, extending them to embrace his son with such fervor it causes tears to swell in our eyes; warmth to swell in our hearts. this father's fierce love and loyalty for his son is unwavering; rock solid through the repeated abandonment; the continual inconsistency. there is a steadfast gleam in his eyes: the unspoken hope and longing that each homecoming might be the last; that "this time", his child has come home to stay...

tristan's story is my story. the filmography depicting his heart is the autobiography of mine: everyone who knew him had long forsaken the hope of any consistency in his life, deeming him to be irretrievably lost; irreparably broken. he was the runaway to everyone... everyone except his father.

towards the end of the film, tristan returns... again. for good. inexplicably. his previous returnings were marked by a prevailing sense of despair, as if returning to his father's house and his father's arms were an act of temporal refuge. but this time, oh, this time something - everything - within him had changed. the peace within him is palpable. his father's love, unshakable. he has learned what i have learned: his father's house was where he had belonged all along; his father's love was the very thing he had sought and yet, at the same time, rejected. this last time was different because he was different: the wounds of his past were healed. a cleansing flood had occurred washing away his pain and with it, his desire to run; the need to flee.

i, too, rounded the corner home to my Heavenly Father this last time with a spirit unlike so many times before: my steps were not filled with despair, but with hope; not with begrudging obedience, but with longing for Him. something was different because i - by His grace - had been made different. though i was - and am - and will always be - unworthy of this love and this grace, He clothed me in His righteousness and deemed me worthy (phil 3:9). He did not call me a prodigal, nor did He call me a runaway.

He called me His own and He called me by name: Beloved.

we cannot run away from that which is within us, but our Heavenly Father can heal that which is within us and redeem our past for His glory. a father's love had healed tristan's wounded heart. our Heavenly Father's love healed mine...

He desires to heal yours, too.

compassion.

"Dear friends, do you think you'll get anywhere in this

if you learn all the right words but never do anything?

Does merely talking about faith

indicate that a person really has it?

For instance, you come upon an old friend dressed in rags

and half-starved and say, "Good morning, friend!

Be clothed in Christ! Be filled with the Holy Spirit!"

and walk off without providing so much as

a coat or a cup of soup—where does that get you?

Isn't it obvious that God-talk without God-acts

is outrageous nonsense?"

James 2:14-17 (The Message)

as we have walked through a series on faith and the book of James the last few weeks, the Lord has taught me innumerable truths through His word and this series. i could write in a thousand different directions, but there is just one word flowing from my heart - and from my fingers: compassion.

the images. the statistics. a debilitating combination that paralyzes our hearts with discouragement and helplessness. my heart aches with each frame of the video; with each word of the scripture - not only with the ache of compassion - but the agony of Godly sorrow and deep regret for having been paralyzed for far too long; for having lived a life of such greedy materialism; for having given such thought, such care, such inestimable amounts of money to clothe and feed myself so far beyond what was necessary. living year after year of my life lost in lustful worldliness, constantly planning out the next nicers and newers of future seasons: a newer car, a larger home, nicer things, nicer clothes. day after day, wrought with incessant worrying about what i would wear, how i would look, what i would eat. and yet, with each and every one of those days that passed, thirty thousand children died of starvation or preventable disease.

thirty-thousand. children. each day. dying. because they do not have enough food; because they do not have medicine.

our culture prevents us from even flinching. we are too inundated with mass media and football season and fall premiers and fall festivals. the statistics and the images move us to turn away; to close our eyes rather than move towards them and have the eyes of our hearts opened. as the eyes of my own heart were opened by God Himself to this grave, heart-wrenching reality, i thought to myself, "WHAT are we doing?!"... and then i thought, "what am i doing?". and the inescapable truth pierced me: the same thing i have been doing all of my life: absolutely nothing. what could i do. it was more of a statement than a question. but the Lord, in His infinite grace and wisdom, starting molding it into a question. how could i, now a single mother and full time college student with such few resources make a difference - a tangible, measurable, touchable, feel-able difference - in light of such inestimable need.

one that would be answered with the one word that had been pressed on my heart for weeks: compassion; and then followed by another: international.

i could not save thirty thousand children. but through Compassion International, i could make a permanent difference in the life one. forever. while there are a plethora of organizations that help feed and clothe impoverished children, Compassion is impeccable in its reputation and in its radical responsibility for the reputation of Christ. it is not a program designed simply to help impoverished children survive, but to release them from poverty in Jesus' name.

trying to determine what i could sacrifice came easily. i needed thirty-eight dollars cut from somewhere. two sundays ago the waiter handed me the check for a Sunday lunch for our family of four: it was thirty-four dollars. i could sponsor a child for a month with what i had just spent on half-eaten cheese quesidillas and tacos.

deciding which child to sponsor was not as easily determined: chloe and i looked at the website together and as i explained what we were doing, exactly, she exclaims, "oh. i know what that is! compassion [she explains] is when you see someone who needs help and you want to help them!". [thank you, veggietales!] i immediately searched for children her age and who had been waiting the longest. it led us to anthony. an adorable little boy in honduras, who had been waiting longer than six months for a sponsor. he was born just eight weeks before chloe.

one change of my heart that eventually led to one click of the mouse; and ultimately, this one child's life. in just a few years, when Chloe is old enough to travel on a Compassion Sponsor trip, i hope we will have the opportunity to travel to Honduras so that we can meet this child face-to-face, in Jesus' name - not to see what we have done, but what the Lord has done through us. it is my prayer that he may know, that my own children will come to know, what it took me thirty some odd years to learn: apart from Him, we can do nothing. apart from Him, we are nothing. the world and everything in it is fading away and without Him, so are we...

sponsoring this one child is not a means to an end, but to a beginning. i am no longer asking "what can i do", but what He desires to do through me; i am no longer asking how i can spend my resources to help others; but how i can spend my life for His glory.

pray for our anthony and i urge you, pray about sponsoring a child of your own.

identity.

my desk - 11:30 p.m. - monday night

"Yes - there were many potential pursuits in life that were flashier, more attractive, more acceptable - but only one that I knew in my depths I had a God-given yearning toward: writing. The other pursuits were not inherently wrong... but for me, God said no." ~ Mark Steele

standing outside the door of my creative writing class on my first day back to college, the girl standing next to me says, "I'd like to have my first book published by the time I'm thirty-five... so that gives me twelve years." i smile. "that's a good goal", i said... "that would give me about two". thankfully, that isn't my goal. i've thought very little of specific goals and instead, of only of one purpose: to glorify Christ.

these first few weeks of returning to college to study english have not been a walk in the park: i am struggling with the technical aspects of literature; the countless theories of literary analyzation; the iambic pentameters of poetry; the forced subject matter of my creative writing class; the critique of twenty year olds... need i continue? more than a few times already, i have thought to myself, "what am i doing here?". truly, only the Lord knows. aside from lessons in literature, i am learning - daily - lessons of trust; of perseverence; and of self-discipline.

i am a writer. i may never write anything more than the pages of this blog. my words may never reach beyond the circle of my closest friends who faithfully follow my this blog. but it doesn't change the fact that writing is who i am; it is who i have always been. countless other pursuits over the course of my life have led me back to the one that began when i was twelve: writing. i never aspired to write; i just did. it was not a conscious choice, but a subconscious neccessity. only over the last few months have i come to understand that this is who God made me to be; and this is what He made me to do.

"God's gifts of grace come in many forms: Each of you has received a gift in order to serve others. You should use it faithfully. If you speak, you should do it like one speaking God's very words. If you serve, you should do it with the strength God provides. Then in all things God will be praised through Jesus Christ. " 1 Peter 4:10-11

i wasted so much of my life in search of myself, according to the wisdom of the world: following my heart, following the pursuit of my own happiness and my own selfish desires. the wisdom of the world leads to darkness; senseless wandering far from the narrow path. we try to "find ourselves" and we fail. we seek out our identity in the world and we find confusion and despair. the world promises self-fulfillment but provides emptiness. who we are, who we really are, is who God says we are in Isaiah 43:

"You are my witnesses," declares the LORD, "and my servant whom I have chosen, so that you may know and believe me and understand that I am He." Isaiah 43:10

this is our calling. the desinty for all of us who know Him. We are called not simply believe IN Him; but to believe HIM. we are His witnesses. this is not the calling of an elect few. this is the calling for each of us who have His story of redemption written across our hearts. we are called to be living, breathing, walking, talking displays of His redemption. not to simply speak the words with our mouths about a God who saves, but for our lives to be a reflection of His redemption and His glory.

when i write, i can feel His story of redemption in my life being told; the glory of His grace being revealed. that phrase is my own and yet, mark steele wrote that phrase in his book, verbatim. confirmation washed over my heart. despite all the various pursuits that seemed more appealing or appropriate, for writer mark steele, God said "no". for me, God simply said: "write".

whatevers.

"whatever is true, whatever is noble,

whatever is right, whatever is pure,

whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable

--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--

think about such things."

Philippians 4:8

i've been on an internet news binge for the last few weeks. it began with the jaycee dugard case and has culminated with the annie le [missing yale student] case. every headline in between is death, discord, evil... with the occasional celebrity debauchery. consequently, the decaying effects on my mind - and my spirit - have not gone unnoticed. a disheveling of sorts. some ambiguous unsettling within me, marked by discouragement; and fear; and a disheartening for the world around me. a burden that leads to helplessness; or perhaps, stems from helplessness. my heart has been troubled and i'm finding that, for me, there is the finest of lines between the necessity of staying informed and the necessity to guard my heart. in fact, i'm starting to believe that staying informed isn't so much of a necessity at all in light of, oh - say- eternity.

one of my courses this semester is mass media & society, the basis of which is the theory that the mass media is a reflection of society and vice versa. one glance at the headlines and one can conclude: there is nothing good in the mass media. in fact, there is so much of the opposite, it runs the risk of paralyzing us both mentally and spiritually. the headlines read much like paul's second letter to timothy:

"people will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God— having a form of godliness but denying its power. Have nothing to do with them." ~ 2 timothy 3

if paul were to write a letter to me today, i have a sneaking suspicion he'd probably say something like, "yea, i told you so... two thousand years ago. now, stop spending your time reading news articles and start spending that time in the Word. stop looking at just whatever and set your mind on the whatevers: whatever is true, whatever is noble... you know the rest."

a few weeks ago, Dr. Jim Shaddix shared a humorous piece of wisdom with us: God is not going to answer us regarding things He's already written down. it's humorous because we often find ourselves praying and waiting for God to reveal to us an answer that He's already written; or reveal to us a truth that is already in His word. i laughed as he gave some examples and yet, in my humanness, find myself doing the same thing. what then was the answer for this? what should i do, Lord? bury my head in the sand? keep my head in the clouds? ...

"The most important," answered Jesus, "is this: Love the Lord your God with all of your heart and with all of your soul and with all of your mind and with all of your strength." (Mark 12:29-30)

things above.

"Set your minds on things above,

not on earthly things."

colossians 3:2

the irony, it seems, of walking such a narrow path with any consistency is that your eyes cannot be looking at the path itself; nor can they be glancing either side. your attention cannot be diverted to the landscapes you have already passed; the mountains or valleys that inevitably lie ahead. when we walk according to our own strength, we stumble; when we follow the path according to our own understanding, we fall. we are incapable of traveling this path in our own strength. the only source of true consistency - and of true faithfulness - doesn't stem from anything we can do own our own: we only move forward when we're looking up.

problem is, we're distractable creatures who live in a world with innumerable distractions; we're prideful creatures who think - once we've taken a few bold steps in His grace - we can race ahead on our own. the truth is, the moment we think we are capable of walking on our own is the same moment we walk out of His grace. the truth [that He is constantly revealing to me] is that it is in the mundane tasks of this life that His glory is revealed and that His grace is most sufficient.

the tempation is to compartmentalize our lives. to give Him a part of it: a few moments out of our day; a day out of our week. He wants all of our hearts and all of our lives. there are not just a few among us whom are "called" to this: we are all called to this... to be living sacrifices for His grace. feeling burdened by the innumerable distractions in my own life, i was encouraged when i read these words from Paul:

"So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out... I'm speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him." the Apostle Paul (Romans 12) MSG

so many years spent trying to walk with more dedication, more resolve. turns out, all i needed to do was admit that i couldn't travel this path on my own, lay down my life as a sacrfice and look up... to the One whose word illuminates the path and whose Spirit changes the shifting shadows of distractions.

love of my life

i have the beginnings of so many other blogs in my drafts folder; the scattered papers and books of so much coursework on my desk; but my fingers only move across the keyboard with the rhythm of my heart.

and by His grace, my heart only moves with the rhythm of His spirit.

there is not a single day that has passed that i have not been in awe of His grace. the Lord has transformed the narrow path beneath my feet by His hand and the heart within me by His love.
who could have known; who, but He, could have predicted that my own path, paved with sin and failures and loss; the path leading to death and despair and loneliness would somehow be transformed - and that He would lead me here: to the most abundant life - and to the greatest love - i have ever known. the very one from whom i ran has become the love of my life. and in that, i am not alone...

i heart king david: you know, the "man after God's own heart". but that's not why i heart him. no, i love him because before he became that man, he was someone else entirely: an adulterer... and a murderer. an adulterer who used murder as a futile attempt to conceal the adultery. you want to talk about feeling unworthy of grace? psalm 51 is david's plea for mercy and redemption. and it's not completely unlike my own prayers prayed through sobs on the floor. i love verse 17, which says, "The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit. You will not reject a broken and repentant heart."

Oh, how the key that unlocks the door to healing for broken lives and broken hearts lies within that very verse.

david's path, paved with selfish ambition and sin, had ultimately led him to the end of himself. a dead end in which you have no choice but to lie down and die or turn back. it is only by His grace that any of us truly turn back and when we do, it is only by His grace that we are able to bear the unfathomable agony that comes with realizing what we have done, who we have been.

david was there. and i have been there, too. what he wrote in his psalm; i write in my blog: it is that agony that leads us to salvation.

in verse 17, david writes: "You do not desire a sacrifice, or I would offer one. You do not want a burnt offering. The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit. You will not reject a broken and repentant heart, O God."

david knew what i had to learn the hard way: God didn't want his religiosity; his performance; or a "sacrifice" or "burnt offering" to show his sincerity; God didn't want david to go and try to "get his life together" and then come back pleading for mercy. david knew he had nothing to offer; he knew that nothing could reconcile the wrong he had done. but he also knew the one thing God desired. and it was the only thing he had left: a broken, half-beating heart.

All that God desired from david was the same that He desired from me - and from you. He wants our hearts.

and once He has it, truly has it, our testimony becomes that of psalm 40. His story of redemption is the same, written by His love upon our hearts. it is the same because we are all wretched and sinful apart from His grace; we are all hopeless and lost without experiencing His love. but in His love, the words of david in psalm 40 become our own, as they are my own:

He has lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
He has set my feet on a rock and given me a firm place to stand.
He has put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and worship and put their trust in the Lord.
I will not hide His righteousness in my heart;
I will speak of His faithfulness and salvation.
I will not conceal His love and His truth."

His love is the love of my life... and He desires for it to be the great love of yours, too.

Christianish.

my name is nadia wilder. from the age of fifteen, i claimed to be a Christian. in fact, i thought i was a Christian. but the truth is, i wasn't a Christian at all. . .

I was Christianish.

"This is the difference between Christianish and Christ-follower. We have trained ourselves to cope well on a Christianish path: a path where we please the right godly people and don't feel guilt when our failings are seen by the world at large. Yes, our methods work on this path - but it's the wrong path. It's not the approach to Jesus that we are supposed to take - that we are created to take." ~ Mark Steele

i stumbled by accident upon this book while looking for a gift for a friend. it is very rare for me to pick up a book at random. now that i think about it, i cannot actually remember when i ever have. but i was drawn to the title and the sub-title: "what if we're not really following Jesus at all?"...

yea. what if?... (well, there goes my idea for a book).

i read the description on the backside and it was, word for paraphrased word, the description of my own life. mark steele's story is my story. God's redemptive work delivering him from complacent and comfortable Christianish culture to the radical, passionate pursuit of Christ.

http://www.amazon.com/Christianish-What-Really-Following-Jesus/dp/1434766926#

seeds.

"The farmer plants the Word.

Some people are like the seed that falls

on the hardened soil of the road.

No sooner do they hear the Word than Satan snatches away

what has been planted in them.

And some are like the seed that lands in the gravel.

When they first hear the Word,

they respond with great enthusiasm.

But there is such shallow soil of character that

when the emotions wear off and some difficulty arrives,

there is nothing to show for it.

The seed cast in the weeds

represents the ones who hear the kingdom news but

are overwhelmed with worries

about all the things they have to do

and all the things they want to get.

The stress strangles what they heard,

and nothing comes of it.

"But the seed planted in the good earth

represents those who hear the Word, embrace it, and

produce a harvest beyond their wildest dreams."

Mark 4:14-15 (MSG)

i have walked along each of these paths in my life: the one of impenetrable soil, faltering gravel, and entangling weeds - thick with thorns.

looking back, the majority of my short life was spent alternating the beaten, half-graveled paths and wandering occasionally into the overgrown wilderness. with each step, my heart was constantly conforming to that which was was beneath my feet.

it was only by His grace that He continued to cast His seeds on my path. any human would've considered them squandered. but in His unfathomable providence, He knew that one day, that tattered trail of seeds would lead me home. redemption for every seed.

when, by His grace, i embraced His truth - my future was altered. and so was my perception of the past. i had ran to Him so many times before, wounded and in utter despair. "why is this time different?", i asked. there was no immediate answer. i would whisper it nightly in prayer. i wrote it down in my prayer journal over and over. and with it, my fervor intent and prayer that i would stay: "I long to dwell in your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of your wings." Psalm 61:4

i began to unpack the suitcase i had carried. bursting at the seams with unworthiness and yet, there buried beneath, pride. along every path i had traveled, i had held onto the prideful notion that i'd long ago settled my own salvation. my evidence of that, had you asked, was based on what i had done. and my question began to change: "did i not know you, Lord?". there was no immediate answer. but it was coming:

not in words, but in scrolling images in my mind, vivid imagery depicting the various paths i'd traveled, places i'd visited. suitcase in hand. scenery shifting with my facial expressions along the way from oblivious to selfish to sad to what looked to be ignorant bliss. and in each scene - even the ones where i was running towards Him with tears pouring down my cheeks - there was but one word resonating in my heart: LOST.

i was lost.

i had embraced the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15 as my own. i was His prodigal daughter. i had read the parable over and over, almost always stopping around verse 20, which is the point where the father runs towards and embraces his runaway son. had i only kept reading, the answer may have come sooner. i already knew how the story ended, with a celebration. the older brother, in a fit of jealousy, asks why the prodigal son - who had squandered everything given to him - was worthy of a celebration. the father's reply:

"We had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and now, is found." Luke 15:32

it was only by His grace that my feet were eventually led home; redeeming and replanting all the seeds He had scattered along the way in fertile, life-yielding ground; showering me with immeasurable grace; changing my path - and my heart - forever.

truly, beyond my wildest dreams.