This is What You Are Looking For

I've been struggling to write this post for some time now. Because I wanted to reflect on advent. On the hope, love, joy, peace…the anticipation of what is to come. But I've had a hard time "feeling" in the Christmas spirit this year. So I thought maybe I could write about that - but my lack of Christmas motivation couldn't really be pegged on something. I could not drum up some inspirational post about those going through difficult times, or struggling with family dynamics, etc. Because the truth is I love going home for the holiday's and I love spending time with my family. I think I've just been really busy, and I think the fact that California has had 80 degree weather has made it just not FEEL like Christmas.

But as I reflected more I thought - the anticlimactic-ness of it all is something I think we often struggle with. Something everyone has struggled with along the way.

I was re-reading the birth account in Luke the other day in my copy of "The Message" and was struck by this phrase: "This is what you are looking for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and laying in a manger" (Luke 2:12).

That's it?

That's what all the fuss and prayers and anticipation and planning and preparation and prophesy have been about? Do you think the shepherds cleared their ears and asked the angels to repeat themselves? I think most of our friends would think we were crazy people if that was our response to their years of lament and cries for help.

I am oppressed and need a victor to rescue me…This is what you are looking for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and laying in a manger.

I am tired. I need rest. I need help. I need relief…This is what you are looking for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and laying in a manger

I am lonely. I need love. I need to belong. I need to feel significant…This is what you are looking for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and laying in a manger

I have no more hope. I need to believe it will all get better and there is a point…This is what you are looking for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and laying in a manger

I am poor. I need money and resources. I am afraid of what will happen to myself or my family if I can't figure out soon how to make ends meet…This is what you are looking for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and laying in a manger

But it's exactly that anticlimactic-ness that makes the story the most amazing and relatable.

When there seems to be no reason to hope, we have hope.

When there seems to no one or no reason to love, Christ became love.

When there is no cause for celebration or joy, we have joy.

When our world is so turned upside down we shouldn't find peace, Christ is our peace.

Christ came to turn the world upside down. Came in powerlessness to adjust expectations. To help us realize it was not about what we could do: with our brute force, witty political prowess or celebrity status - it's the power of God. If God was going to redeem the world, it was going to have to be done his way - and his ways are not our ways. His ways (quite frankly) make no sense a lot of the time. But they are beautifully relatable - a Savior that understand rejection, loneliness, hunger, pain, boredom, tiredness, oppression, darkness, and abandonment. But a Savior that also understand love, joy, hope, peace, perseverance, power, relief, resources and true communion with God. Had he been born our literal version of a King like Israel expected, he couldn't have understood or experienced those thing. He had to flip the paradigm upside down - he had to be born in an anticlimactic way so we would adjust our expectations and he would truly suffer human existence.

So if you're having a hard Christmas this season - whether you can't get in the holiday spirit, or you have come from a rough year with difficult struggles, or you feel lonely, or you're lacking in hope - know that you are not alone.

…This is what you are looking for: a baby wrapped in a blanket and laying in a manger.

This Post First Appeared on The Salt Collective

Sitting in the Pain and Darkness

It's one of the harder conversations you'll have out on the track. The ones that seem to have no hope. The ones that end in tears.

Running into a smiling face that you see week to week is both joyous and heart-breaking. Joyous because we love building relationships with the women out on the streets and it is a gift being able to see them multiple times and hear more bits and pieces of their story. Heart-breaking because each time we see them out on the track means one more week they've been trapped. One more week they've been a slave to the obstacles and lies in their life.

We saw "Sixty" on Friday (not her real name). And I love running into her. She always has the biggest hug waiting for me and a huge smile on her face. But this week was slightly different. She greeted me with that same hug and smile- the slight scent of alcohol on her breath - as she told us to "hurry up and pray for her so she could get on her way." But then she became deflated. She said she was sick of it all and wanted out.

"I'm serious. When have you ever heard me say this before? I mean it. Get me out of here."

My heart rate livened. I became excited. And I became hopeful that perhaps this was the night. I offered to call some places for her right there. We'd sit down on the curb and make calls all night until we found her a safe place to go, but she was discouraged by that. "You mean I have to call places? I might have to wait? I have to do intakes? I don't have all night to just sit around and hope something works out."

And so that was that. I was sad, but I know it's frustrating. I know when you are discouraged and at the end of your rope any small obstacle in your way feels enormous - but my heart ached in that moment that Sixty wasn't quite ready to take the steps to get free. And there was nothing I could do but sit in the pain and the darkness with her. To  listen to her talk about the thoughts that go through her head in her darkest moments of wanting to take a handful of pills so it'll all be over. Of her pleas that I would make up a false complaint and call the cops so she might have a few nights of relief behind cell bars away from it all. 

And these are the moments it is the hardest. It is difficult to just stand in the chilly stillness and be present. And it is maddening to eventually have to walk away. Knowing that God loves this woman more than I ever could and he is working a bigger picture that I am only a small part of, but feeling like the only thing I am doing is abandoning her.

We spent last night as an After Hours outreach team talking about our fears, and the fears of the women we meet out on the track - and how many of those fears stem from our inability to grasp and truly believe our identity in Christ as his beloved. Loved. Enjoyed. Before we did anything. Because when we don't fully grasp our worth - it is hard to fight for even our own lives. 

I'm making calls and looking up places that might not have long waiting periods. I'm hoping the next time we meet Sixty will be in a space where she is more willing and able to fight those obstacles in her life. But until then, I pray. I wait. I weep. And I trust the God who finds her worthy beyond compare to come to her aid when my efforts are insufficient. 

Who Am I?

I just sat through a weeklong intensive for my Fuller Doctor of Ministry Program on the Psychosocial and Spiritual Development of Adolescents. It was fascinating and intellectually exhausting. We talked about a lot of really in-depth and important things, but there was one thing that stood out to me as being the simplest yet hardest concepts of the week.

Identity. Who am I? This is the most significant question we can ask ourselves today. And most of us have no clue how to answer it. According to Henri Nouwen, (you should all read his book “In the Name of Jesus”) we answer it in one of three ways:

I am what I do (Ambition)
I am what I control (Lust)
I am what others say about me (Pride)

We constantly subject ourselves to forces outside of our control. We can never sufficiently answer this question of “Who am I” when we seek to answer it in one of these three ways – based on others and cultural circumstances. They reinforce an identity based on a second love.

But the truth is our identity is quite simple: I am the beloved child. Loved. Enjoyed. Before I did anything.

Before I messed anything up.
Before I did anything brilliant.
Before I made something of myself.
Before I impressed all those people.
Before I made any money.
Before I lost it all.
Before the addiction.
Before the recognition.
Before the divorce.
Before the promotion.
Before the kids.
Before all the surgeries and cool clothes and fake glasses and make up and….before.

It’s so simple. But it’s the hardest thing we’ll ever learn to grasp. To rest in an identity of being rather than doing. Of growing rather than achieving. Of trusting in God’s love rather than proving my own goodness.

Who are you?

This post originally appeared on The Salt Collective

All Those Bible Verses That Apply To You...But I'm Not Sure If They Apply To Me

I just turned 30. That gives you reason to pause and reflect a bit on where you have come from, where you are going and what you are doing with your life. And if you are the kind of person that believes in God – He’ll likely be a central role in those reflections.

Let me introduce my backstory just a bit. I grew up in a loving Christian home. My dad was a youth pastor in a congregation for a while before taking to traveling and speaking (like a missionary) full time. My parents also lead short-term mission trips during the summers across Western Europe. In high school I far too closely resembled Mandy Moore from the movie “Saved”. Somehow I ended up at seminary where I studied Theology and Cross-Cultural Studies. In my travels around the world I gained a heart for the vulnerable and oppressed, specifically the sexually exploited. So I focused my cross-cultural studies on that demographic. In the midst of seminary I began volunteering with an organization called After Hours Ministry, a street outreach to men and women who are prostituted in Los Angeles. I now work with them on staff.

The problem is, as I’ve gotten to know God more – the more distant He’s felt. The more silent He’s gotten. I love reading about saints like Mother Theresa and learning that a majority of her life was a dark night of the soul. I don’t envy her – and I hope that is not how the rest of my story goes – but I really do struggle at times to see how she pushed through. How she cognitively clung to promises she had no actual experience of.

And that’s what brings us to the title of this post.

I read things like Psalm 9:10, “Those who know your name trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you.”
Or Psalm 27:1, “The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?”
Or Matthew 11:28-30, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
Or Romans 8:28, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

And I believe it (yes, I know I am proof-texting and out of context, hang with me) – I’ll tell the men and women who are prostituted on the streets of L.A. I meet those very words with all sincerity – the problem is…I really don’t think they apply to me.

Sometimes the Bible feels so big and impersonal. Full of contradictions you aren’t sure which pieces to hold on to and how to reconcile the others.

I believe fiercely in a God of justice that longs for human flourishing. That cares passionately for the oppressed.

I think the reason I have a hard time translating that to my own life is because I don’t think I’ve suffered as much as the pain I see in the world, so I translate that to God being busy passionately pursuing and attending to those others with the “real” problems. This is the same reason I have never once taken the time to talk to a pastor or leader at any church I have been at, always saying in the back of my mind “they are probably very busy and there are other people with ‘real’ problems that need their time.”

How do I expect God to care about my deep loneliness or the unbalance in my life when chemical weapons are being used in Syria?  Or when young boys and girls are being enslaved and prostituted…

Or when there is drunkenness
Or when there is divorce
Or when there is adultery
Or when there is codependency
Or when there is homophobia
Or when there is addiction
Or when there is sickness
Or when there is death

It is hard to believe God is that big. And not rolling His eyes at me when I pray my small prayers and requests.

I think that is why we need community. That’s the only way the Bible and God begin to make sense. Because when I have a hard time believing those promises apply to me that’s when God sends a Krissy into my life to say “God told me to love you” and maybe that’s enough right now in this dark night of the soul. Maybe God will choose to be silent a whole longer but He sends others along the way to speak to me on his behalf, to help me to believe or to believe for me.

If you have a hard time believing the truths in the Bible that God loves you, will not forsake you, and blesses those who seek Him – I’d love to hear from you. Cause I have a hard time believing that for myself too – but I believe it for you, and sometimes it’s easier to see God moving in someone else’s story – so I’d love to hear yours.

The post All Those Bible Verses That Apply To You…But I’m Not Sure If They Apply To Me appeared first on The Salt Collective.

Why Doesn't Washington Look Like Me?

We all make biased decisions. And if you say “not me” you’re lying. So what I don’t understand is why those that represent America aren’t actually more….representative. Perhaps it is because campaigns have gotten so out of hand and a typical lower or middle class person with a modest or poor living would not stand a chance running a successful one. So then their voice isn’t heard over those with more fundraising capabilities.

Earlier last month the House of Representatives passed a bill by 217-200 in favor of cutting food stamp benefits.

Eliminate food stamps? Sure!! That’s a great way to save some money and we don’t REALLY have to think about the ramifications when we are an upper or middle class citizen. Do you think if you had someone in the House of Representatives that was ON food stamps right now that conversation would have gone differently?

Cutting food stamps would save us $39 billion over 10 years – but it would impact 4 million Americans on the program. Most of which are children, elderly or disabled. 1 in 7 Americans profit from this program. And 15% of Americans today live in poverty. (All this directly ripped off of the BBC here)

Now, I am not arguing anything against or for that actual bill – it’s probably been vetoed/destroyed/shot down/killed by now – what I am arguing is that stuff like this wouldn’t even end up on the table, or would certainly have a deeper and richer conversation, if our representatives were actually “representative”.

Do you think a governmental shut down would happen for this long if Congress had been forced to take a break from their pay? Or been forced to take furlough? Okay, some of them have voluntarily done this, so let me phrase it a different way – do you think the shutdown would last this long if taking no pay wasn’t an option for them? If they weren’t in such a fantastic place financially (with over half on congress being millionaires) that they are able to look charitable by forgoing they pay they “should be getting”?

The decisions they make don’t impact them in the same way it does those it trickles down to, which is why they are able to so quickly make them. And I understand that they believe they are speaking for their constituencies – but sometimes I wonder if we got a better representation of what America actually is with more diversity of economic status, race, disability, age, gender, religion, sexual orientation, etc.; then we would get vastly different decisions and conversations coming out of congress. We all have bias – that’s why we need those different from us to help balance us out – make sure we’re seeing with proper perspective. I don’t think our congress has that. At all.

For other interesting reading:
Congress Millionaires Club 

New Congress Even Wealthier

This post Why Doesn’t Washington Look Like Me? appeared first on The Salt Collective.