The Switch

No, not the Jennifer Aniston RomCom (though I must admit, I did see that this weekend, and it was much better than anticipated...had a relatively good underlying message for a movie of its category), a temporary career shift. One advantage of being a teacher is being able to use my summer for different purposes than educating the limited number of youth in my immediate vicinity of Columbus. I have officially made "the switch" to interning at Veritas, the church of which I have been a member since I graduated college in 2009.

I can't say the entire move has been flawlessly beautiful, though I am basking in the joys of being able to do ministry in what currently feels like a limitless manner as rules against speaking truth in my own office have been repealed. I have, however, come to learn and love specific things about my summer experience at Veritas thus far:

1. God provides new ways to pursue my passions-- One thing I have come to enjoy a great deal about the mind and passions God has granted me is instances in which I may facilitate an hospitable environment. Moving back home to save money and participate in the complex year with which my family has been blessed seemed to limit this gift in its development. But, God is gracious! He has invited me, via Veritas, to become a source of vision and execution of hospitality for the church. I'm absolutely adoring working in conjunction with women who far exceed my talents as we decide on paint colors, furniture arrangements, and landscaping. I'm also greatly enjoying working with other staff and volunteers to script a biblical/missional vision into which we may bring members of our church so that we best learn how to humbly pursue hospitality within the church walls (something that is far too easy to lost in a church, yet should sit in a place of primacy as it speaks so openly and cross-culturally about the power of the gospel).

2. With the extra hours I am able to spend at the church, God has provided an incredible opportunity to work with a few other women in planning a women's conference for women in our region of Acts 29. Those of you who know me well, know exactly the height to which my heart lept when I was given the "OK" to work on this project! I have realized over the years that women's ministry is something that challenges me and transforms me in more ways than anything else I have encountered (with regard to serving in ministry, that is). It is scary to plan something that will be attended by a number of women who hunger and thirst for the Word of God. It means that my beliefs (or misbeliefs) about God will directly impact the theology that is cultivated by women attending the event. It therefore requires me to leave "me" at the doormat and trudge on through the power of the Spirit alone. I  am not good at allowing that to happen. God must continually transform me so that I can both, trust him to be the one who shapes the hearts of the women with whom I pursue ministry and not my misbeliefs, and trust him to change my heart so that I actually am able to experience the pleasures and pains for doing ministry through him to the extent that he has intentionally measured out for my life.

More thoughts to come on this "switch" soon. I'm currently scripting my support letter for the summer internship... perhaps it will make an appearance here soon.

Evidences of Grace

My little sister is amazing! She is far better a writer than I was at her age, she is simply a beauty to behold and talented in so many ways. In the piece of writing that follows, she tells the story of how this year has unfolded for her thus far. Her story speaks so much to the necessity of seeing all things in light of the perfect character, wisdom, and graciousness of our Lord. I am stunned by how, despite her sinful heart, God has transformed her into someone who desires to seek his glory above all else. Please enjoy reading the winsome words she has penned. 

I believe in Healing

            Experience: an event or occurrence that leaves an impression on someone. That is, something that changes your life. For me, this year has become just that: a radical experience.  We all battle hardships sometimes; however, this year has brought about a few more than expected.  My family and I have been pushed to measures we never thought were possible to survive. Together, the only way we have made it through is because of our one true savior, Jesus Christ. In Him, I believe, is true healing. Though I have seen miracles occur in other’s lives, it wasn’t until I could experience it on my own that I could find their true meaning.

            On October 15, 2010, my family and I were brought together in our family room. My oldest brother with his guitar, and my parents, brother, sister, and myself all gathered around him. We had just discovered the most unforeseen news in our entire lives: my brother Jared, had been diagnosed with cancer. Despite the fact that each of us sat with tears running down our face, our only words were the praises we sang to our Heavenly Father.  As we ended the night together in prayer, I knew this evening would forever be engraved in my memory. I remember feeling confused and scared, but not just because  of the dreaded “C” word. For at this time in my life, there was a different struggle going on within me; something else controlling my own life:  an eating disorder.

Anorexia came into my life, preceded by nothing, only to become a stronghold that has taken over my mind, and made my relationship with food a minute-by-minute stress. While healing takes time, I have learned that recovery takes willingness, letting go, surrendering, accepting, and being patient.  Some days I can have a smile on my face, while other days are full of tears; regardless, I am constantly reminded of God’s love each time I read, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, 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.”

(Matt. 11: 28-30 ).   I can already see that from this experience, my faith in Jesus is growing in ways I have always dreamed of; while Jared’s has been used to glorify God as well. As I watch Jared each week, physically taking in a poison I’m supposed to believe is the only way for him to live, he stands with spirits high setting a remarkable example for me. With my family at my side, I know that true healing is yet to come. The faith which I thought was only something little, can transform a life to reflect its true purpose on this Earth, to honor Jesus Christ. 

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I have become frustrated; yes, that’s the best way to begin my thoughts on thankfulness. It is exasperating to continually feel the weightiness of how disinclined I am to pursue life with the joy and thanksgiving I ought.  I just spent the last 48 hours of Thanksgiving preparations and celebrations cooking, baking, talking, laughing, praying, eating, and so much more; but, I look back and see that those hours have ingested a great deal of pain and suffering as well. It is so easy to look at holidays with a foggy notion of perfection and falsified joy-- to believe that if you’re lucky enough to look in on your family and see a scene that belongs in one of those old snow globes, you’ve simply achieved the stamp of approval for holiday perfection. And yet, how often I have overlooked the moments for which I am called to repent, even in the middle of living a “picture-perfect life.” If I think about this day in light of the blessing of eternity a number of formidable things come to mind. 

First, is the daunting thought that while salvation provided by Jesus Christ lasts throughout all eternity, I am by no means prepared for such bliss. I am far too conceded to worship God as his righteousness demands. I am too naive of my own faults to enjoy the grace of God in all its splendor. I would love to leave this world behind, abandon the tension it provides my heart and soul, have silenced the deafening cry of sin and all its implications; but God is gracious as he continues to provide me time to walk beside him and be in awe of his great works here on this earth. May I evermore “...do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with [my] God” (Micah 6:8). 

In direct correspondence with that thought, is the awe-inspiring idea that, not only does God graciously allow us to “work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12) on this earth, but He has also allowed us to call heaven our home in which we may one day live. We have a home that does not have to forbid acts of folly, it foregoes them all together. We have a home that lacks nothing because it holds within it the God of the universe. We have a home that refuses to possess any haunting hallways, lurking corridors, or rooms filled with sour evocative notions. It indelibly stands as the home where our sin is not known or remembered, but our salvation, our redemption is fully realized. What a blessed thing! And what a wretched thought that I cannot, and often choose not, to dwell on the beauty of this with the intensity and wonderment it demands. 

There is one last and final hope in this train of thought, however, and it lies in this: that though I will never appreciate the costliness of God’s grace as I ought, and even though Jared’s cancer continues to wretch out my soul with all its might as the acuteness of my sin is brought before me, “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Christ is the perfect sacrifice by which we are saved. I am commanded to “work out” my salvation-- to live in awe and wonder and in light of the reality of it-- but never to provide such a magnificent thing as it for myself. Christ has accomplished what is not probably for the a sinner such as I. And so I rejoice again with the wise dying words of John Newton (author of the hymn Amazing Grace), “My memory is nearly gone; but I remember two things; That I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.”

How Deep the Father's Love for Us

From last night: didn't post...

Jared goes in for his biopsy tomorrow morning at 8, so my family sat down tonight to talk, worship and pray together. I am always encouraged when I think about the blessing that my family is-- what evidence they are of God’s grace in my life. Even earlier today as I was discussing with the Cannones who of my family has made it in town to visit Jared during these weeks of waiting, it was such an astounding fact to share that at 23 I still have all four of my grandparents. What’s even more incredible is that not only are they all still in good health, but they all know the Lord. With that, tonight as we sat and prepared for Jared’s first invasive, active fight against this cancer, it was an unmerited reward to pray with my siblings, parents, and grandparents for God to continue to be glorified every step of the way, including during the biopsy and its report tomorrow. 

I was also given the opportunity to choose the song we would sing together before heading to bed. My favorite right now is “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us” by Stuart Townend. The doctrine in it is simply beautiful. It capsulates more clearly and concisely than anything else how I feel at this moment. The verse I like best is the last one: 

I will not boast in anything

No gifts, no power, no wisdom

But I will boast in Jesus Christ

His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward

I cannot give an answer

But this I know with all my heart

His wounds have paid my ransom

Friends of mine sang this at their wedding; that was when the lyrics truly hit me in a new way. Marriage is a blessing none of us deserve. Love, family, friendship, companionship, pursuing Christ still more as our sin is revealed and killed through those relationships. These are all gifts that we are blessed to have by God’s grace. Add to that, that the redemptive work of Christ on the Cross makes these relationships better and more useful for the encouragement and continued joy of our souls-- the thought is mesmerizing in its tranquility and awesomeness! 

As I sat with my family singing the conclusion of this song yet again, I was reminded with a new and greater depth just how much I have gained from His reward. We will find out tomorrow how exactly God has chosen to bestow his graces upon us in this circumstance. It could be a miraculous sign of his handiwork, a reminder that he alone is Creator God, who gives and takes away, and in this instances may choose to take away the tumor in Jared’s knee. Or, he could remind Jared and each of us who love him of the great physical suffering Christ stood to bear our sin. He could choose to continue to proclaim his name through Jared’s weakness, for, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). He could do things with this illness that are “...far more [abundant] than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,” (Ephesians 3:20). 

Looking toward tomorrow that seems to stand at a great distance from me now, I only know one thing-- not that I will praise the Lord with all my heart at the answer to all our questions, that is a gift of rejecting sin and selfishness that I will pursue only by the power of the Lord and his great grace tomorrow-- that “His wounds have paid my ransom.” 

Cancer Breeds Sanctification Faster and Better Than it does Bad Tissue

I created this blog when I was under the impression that substitute teaching would allow me a good deal of free time. As always, my life does not allow for anything but limited free time, no matter what my occupation. With that, this blog fell to the wayside. In recent days, however, I have realized that there may be a need for such a writing outlet in my life again. Hopefully the following paragraph will catch you up on the rational behind this notion (if you have not already read my brother’s blog at http://sylvesjf.wordpress.com/) 

Just last week Jared, my 21 year old brother, came home from Miami of Ohio, where he is a junior, to have an MRI on what we presumed to be a meniscus tear. On friday evening Jared’s doctor, Mike Cannone (also a good family friend of ours) called and asked for my parents, my brother and me to come over and discuss the results of his MRI. This seemed very odd considering that Jared had an appointment with him in the morning. 

Upon arriving at the Cannone’s house we were, as gently as possible,  informed that there was a large growth in Jared’s left knee. What Dr. Cannone and the radiologist both believe that mass to be is something called Osteosarcoma, a type of bone caner. We have spent the week since that time taking Jared to various other doctor’s appointments and scans that have only continued to confirm the original report Dr. Cannone gave. We are still awaiting the final diagnosis from the biopsy report to be taken next week, but the idea of cancer readily looms in the area around us, affecting our thoughts and conversations at every turn. 

While it has been truly amazing to witness the many different arrays of life to which the potential of cancer has spread, as well as the various responses it has breed, the most earth-shattering thing I have discovered through this news is how much of a person can be uncovered upon its arrival. It is true, you are able to see how people respond to suffering, how they share their story, how people overcome cancer or let it overrun them. More than that, though, the drastic shifts in life that come from such events bring to light, more than anything else I have thus far met, the depth of human depravity and the hope of redemption through Jesus Christ. Even within the first few moments of hearing the news, my beliefs about God were brought to the surface. 

The first thought that ran through my mind was, “God this isn’t what I asked for when I prayed for trials.” Even just the week prior to Jared’s diagnosis I was sitting with my friends Meaghan and Hannah discussing how much I despised the reality of circumstantial peace in my life; I was, at that point, begging God to provide opportunities in which I might experience a “peace that passes understanding” (Phil 4:7). I tried my hardest as I sat on the Cannone’s family room coach to explain to God that he had responded to my prayer’s wrongly: If anyone was getting sick it was to be me, not my family members. How could my walk with the Lord be tested in radical ways, how was I to be empowered to kill sin all the more when it was my brother, not me, who was facing excruciating suffering? That thought that we all experience at one point or another in our lives of, “Lord, take me instead,” was what ended my argument with the Lord. I instantly knew as I let the fleeting words pass through my mind that God had done the right thing. If I had been sick, it would not have challenged me to the extent that watching and caring for a sick brother will. My diagnosis would have been an usher call toward martyrdom. I would have seen the worst coming, embraced with all I had, and died nobly. I would have soaked up the glory of it all, been affirmed in my belief of my own perfection, and moved into heaven expecting shouts of jubilation and a beautifully restored body. What a shock it would have been to find the Lord looking at me with weepy eyes, wishing that I would have left my pride behind. Thanks to God’s amazing grace, I have not been permitted the opportunity to sin in that way. He has instead given me the occasion to walk through a circumstance of suffering that is far greater than I could have ever imagined. My brother’s pain over which I have no control will be far greater than withstanding a physical pain of my own that I may choose to hide from those I love. Taking care of a young man whom I love, who has the opportunity to hide his pain from me is an even graver thought. Standing in the shadow of the limelight, watching from a distance as he learn to suffer well is more humbling than I could have possibly imagined. Supporting him every step of the way, leaning on his understanding of the things to which God has called him for direction in his life when all I want to do is to shelter him from illness, that pulls to a halt my control, my belief that I know anything about how the world operates best. When I prayed that I might be able to walk through life embracing opportunities to “put to death the deeds of the body” (Rom 8:13) so that I might ultimately experience the peace of Christ, I did not have a circumstance like this in mind by the farthest stretch of the imagination. But God, in all of his sovereign and unmistakable majesty chose to bestow upon my brother, my family and me this gift of cancer. He has graciously plotted out for each of us a plan by which we may be sanctified, changed to his likeness so as to honor and glorify him more and more each day. For, why was the blind man born blind?  "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9: 3). And so, this is my prayer, that I may say with the blind man, “...one thing I know, that though I was blind, now I see” (John 9: 25). Not that I would claim to be the best, not that my pride would soak into my heart so much as to make my sin appear nobel in its nature, but that I, who was once blind to my immense need for a savior, would now see him work in my life in all his amazing glory, that I might recognize his control over this circumstance to which he brings astounding peace, and that by the fact that though I was born blind-- not knowing Christ-- now I see the vastness of his perfection and grace.