Take Away From Awake 2014

What does loving the Lord look like? Your all. Everything. 
- Eric Peoples

Can I be honest with you?

For the past few years I have not given my all or my everything to the Lord. Distractions, disappointments, letdowns, failed dreams, frustrations, circumstances, my failures, I let these distract me and deter me from loving the Lord fully. And little by little I just stopped giving my all. 

In his first session on Saturday, Eric said:

"You may feel like you're living more of a nightmare than a dream. You're not alone. We can look through the Bible and see people who have been there, gotten burned, been disappointed and letdown. That's called process."

I'm really good at responding to the process of "all is well and going great". But when the very thing(s) I am holding tightly to and hoping never to lose are lost, I have difficulty walking through this process. Now compound that with at (what seemed) every turn - rejection. Doors were closed, people walked away, and each attempt to move on was hindered by yet a new problem.

"Just because the process doesn't look like it should, don't lean on your own understanding. Surrender yourself to God and trust Him."

Trust.

Everything seemed to unravel so quickly - like sand sifting through one's hands. And it was all I could do to just catch my breath and stay afloat. I tried to trust, but as the days turned to weeks, and the weeks months, hope gave way to cynical hopelessness.

And hopelessness, like a cancer, robbed my very soul of joy, love, desire, and care. And not only for life and people, but for the Lord as well.

"We don't see change or growth in our spirituality because we lack endurance."

Endurance.

I wanted to endure, but honestly, I just didn't have the drive to even attempt it.

"You may be hopeless by life circumstances, but you are not helpless because of Jesus." 

Perhaps these were the most impacting and piercing words I heard all weekend. I was hopeless from life's circumstances. And until that moment, I had bought into the idea that hopelessness meant I was helpless. The kindergarten answer to every Sunday School question - Jesus - had evaded my very reasoning. How could I have forgotten such a simple truth?

Yes. I was, am, hopeless.

But I am not helpless. I have Jesus. And no matter how hopeless I get, there will never be a moment where I will become helpless because I have the promise from Jesus Himself, that He will never forsake me or leave me.

Hopeless? Yes.

Helpless? No.

So each day I will choose to awaken and say, as Eric Peoples said in his Sunday morning message:

"Holy Spirit, fill my life right now and teach me how to love Your presence."

90 Days

I'm not good at new year's resolutions. I don't pretend to be. And because of my poor performance over the years with resolutions, I decided this year to not have any.

But what I have decided to do is a 90 commitment.

Beginning this past Monday, I committed to 90 days of reading my bible every day, and a 90 day period of going to gym.

[NOTE: I'm not going to the gym for 90 consecutive days, but rather, for a length of 90 days, going 3-5 times a week.]

Perhaps it's my personality, or maybe it's just me, but indefinitely signing up to go to the gym is overwhelming and I always give up within a couple weeks. Having a goal (90 days) allows me to pursue and concur it without the daunting feeling of it never ending. And at the end of 90 days, hopefully I don't just give up going to the gym all together. Hopefully a new goal will be set.

My 90 day commitment - both to the gym and to the Word - is not solely for appearance of strength and spirituality. I desperately need to be faithful in reading my bible.

Self-control.

Perseverance.

In my life, self-control and perseverance have always evaded my grasp. For some, you have seen first hand my absence of self-control and lack of perseverance.

I often find myself hanging my head in shame at what I feel should be masted by now; self-control and perseverance.

Two areas where I struggle greatly with these are with daily bible reading and the gym.

And this year, I didn't want yet another year to pass by where these particular fruits of the spirit didn't blossom in my life. So in a desperate attempt to begin a foundation of self-control and perseverance I committed myself to going to the gym and reading my bible for 90 days.

I know I need to be reading my bible, often, daily. I've preached messages about the importance of daily bible reading. I've had lengthy conversations about it. I know the reasons why I need to read my bible. I know my soul is in great need of the Word. Yet my bible has remained, unopened, upon my dresser. A constnat reminder with every layer of dust that my soul too, is in need of a spiritual dusting off.

So this means waking at 6 in the morning, reading my bible, going out in -25 degree weather, driving to Potsdam, and working out from 6:45-7:45. It means being uncomfortable and tired. It means being incredibly sore - and I mean incredibly. It means forcing myself to eat more than just the standard one or two meals a day that have become habit.

And each morning while I drive, freezing cold, to the gym I pray. They're not elaborate prayers. They're simple, often through chattering teeth.  I pray "Lord, help me to have self-control and endurance. Do a work in my mind and heart so I give you complete control over me."

Monday, January 20 I began and committed till April 20. That is my goal and I plan on concurring it fully.

I Am The Greatest Obstacle

“I am my own greatest obstacle in loving God."

It was July 18, 2010 and I was listening to Pastor Doug's Sunday morning message at SaRang church in Korea - which was the church I was attending while living there for three months.

Pastor Doug was doing a series on Jonah. It was undoubtedly the best series I had ever heard preached on Jonah and I was loving it. Pastor Doug was straight forward. He didn't candy-coat the message. Sin, repentance, forgiveness, grace, redemption - the Gospel was preached. 

“I am my own greatest obstacle in loving God."

It's been almost four years since I heard that message, yet I can't stop thinking about that statement.

~~~

For the years while in college, I prided myself on my passion and pursuit of the Lord. I was proud of the discipline I had exercised in prayer, worship, and the reading of the bible. I worked hard to serve people, share the Gospel, be out-going, and love everyone generously.

I was proud of the man I was becoming and the reputation I was building.

But when I graduated, that all stopped. With a single walk down the aisle and the reception of a diploma, just like that, the entire world where I had served and worked tireless to become disciplined in had disappeared. 

I was left standing, feeling lost. Because I was neither an "adult" (i.e. career, family, spouse, etc.) nor was I a college student. 

And rapidly the discipline I had exercised eroded away. My passion melted like snow in the spring and my love and out-going personality towards all shriveled in the frost of my frustration.

I was not proud of who I was or where I was going. I suddenly felt catapulted back to high-school as if I was now just a child.

Like metamorphosis, I could see the change occurring, but didn't know how to stop it.

And along the way, people, friends, those close to me began to feel the cold chill of my heart. Some bore the burden of my frosted words and actions more than others. And my reputation began to change... and so did the way people related to me. 

And within a year, I was a shadow of the young man who had walked up to receive his diploma. 

 ~~~

 
“I am my own greatest obstacle in loving God." 

It was not graduating that caused the deviation of my soul. It was not people or my church that directed my heart astray. It was not circumstances or lack of dreams fulfilled or desires had that set me on a journey of wandering. 

I was the obstacle that got in the way of loving God.

"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me."  - Galatians 2:20

Why did Paul write that he had been crucified? Because he understood that he himself was the greatest obstacle in loving God and that he needed to "decrease so that He could increase". 

See, being crucified with Christ is not just a one-time deal at the moment of salvation. It is a daily thing. 

The moment I stop being crucified with Christ, I begin to live in my own strength and walk out the desires of my heart. It is not until I have been crucified with Christ that my heart is no longer "I who live, but Christ who lives in me". 

I must, at every turn, at every let down, at every desire, at every dream, at every heart-break, at every junction be crucified with Christ so that the life I now live would be lived "by faith in the Son of God" and not by any other whim, feeling, desire, or strength.

I am still very much my own greatest obstacle in loving God. But today I am going to crucify myself with Christ so that it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. 

Forgiveness Without Love

Last night I found myself uncharacteristically sitting among twenty or so young adults who were worshiping and sharing testimonies from their lives.

Had it been six months ago, I would not have considered such a setting so "uncharacteristic" of me. But these days I tend to find comfort in places that are quiet and often unfrequented by people.

"Forgiveness without love is not forgiveness."

 It was the words of a testimony being shared by a friend.

I'm not sure I heard the ending to the testimony because my heart had tripped uncomfortably upon those words. Unable to swallow the undeniable truth that forgiveness required more than the words "I forgive you", I sat, mind racing, as I greeted the reality that forgiveness demanded the accompaniment of love with it.   

Forgiveness without love is not forgiveness.

The words continued to resonate in the hallows of my mind as I tried to pretend they weren't true. I couldn't... can't love those who...

I sat, intoxicated with the sobriety of truth my friend had just shared. And I didn't know what to do. I knew, know, I can't just love. I used to. But these days, today, it's not like that anymore.

The rest of the evening was passed unnoticed by me as I processed these words. How was I going to ever force myself or bring myself to love those whom I struggled to forgive? I couldn't. I can't.

Then today as I continued to process these words, I was greeted by a different reality than last night. I was greeted by the truth that Jesus is the One who works in my heart and moves within me to bring about a miracle of forgiveness and love.

As Jesus hung dying, He extended forgiveness to those who had taken His very life. This was no less a miracle than any He had performed already. Because forgiveness, true forgiveness, accompanied by love is a miracle. Why? Because only through Jesus can this truly be accomplished.

So in 2014, my prayer is that I would have loving forgiveness so that in 2015, I would have a testimony of this moment to share with the whole world.

2013: The Hardest Year Yet

As 2013 comes to a close, I suppose like most, I reflect on what the year held.

At the closing of some years, there has been in the past an excitement about not only what that year had held, but a joyful anticipation of the next.

Then other years, they close almost unnoticed.

2013 for me was... difficult. An unexpected, and in some ways, a completely shocking difficult. It was frustrating. It was angering. It was depressing. It was infuriating. And it was filled with loss.

It was a year of having faith. | And it was a year of faith being lost.
It was a year of excitement. | And it was a year of great dissapointment.
It was a year of prayer. | And it was a year of prayer ceasing.
It was a year of pursuing. | And it was a year of letting go. 
It was a year of scripture memorization. | And it was a year of scripture being lost.
It was a year of being proud and confident it what I had. | And it was a year of losing it all.
It was a year of pursuing a vision. | And it was a year of a vision being taken away.
It was a year of believing I had heard from the Lord. | And it was a year of doubting I had ever heard at all.

I can confidently say, 2013 has been the hardest year of the 26 I have lived. And to be completely candid, I currently do not look to 2014 with any expectation of "great" things. I have learned in 2013 that expectation is fragile and easily lost - something to not be relied upon ever. 

Yet there is a hope within me, small, and perhaps barely visible, which believes that in some way, that somehow, God is going to restore my very soul and return unto me the joy of my salvation. It is not a great hope. It is not a contagious hope. It is not even a faith-filled hope. Rather, it is a hope derived from years of walking with God and knowing He is good. He is father and I son.

Yesterday at church, my pastor said "At the end of 2014, I want my testimony to be that I am somehow, in someway, more like Christ than I am now."

I have no aspirations for 2014. I have no excitement for 2014. I have no goals for 2014. I have nothing, nor want nothing, nor desire anything for 2014 — other than that I might be more like Christ than I am now.

Aggressive About My Soul

The Christmas tree stood festively stoic in the corner, transcending a luminescent glow throughout the room. The wood stove radiated of warmth and the flames jumped longingly at the glass door as if attempting to escape. The smell of our Italian dinner, consumed only hours earlier, still lingered throughout the air. Everyone else had gone to bed except us. She laid on the couch and I sat opposite upon another.

This was her last night visiting the North Country and although she probably should have been fast asleep, she used her final hours to encourage me.

"You need to get aggressive about your soul" she said.

It wasn't the first time she had said this to me. It probably wasn't going to be the last either.

I smiled and responded, "Yeah." My voice trailed off, revealing an obvious absence of confidence in my answer.

"I'm serious Josh!" she replied with more conviction. "You need to get aggressive about your soul." 

~~~

I know the messages, the bible passages, the words to say, the worship songs to sing, the "right" things to do in this season. I've preached them. I've said them. I've encouraged many before who have stood where I am today.

I'm not lacking "knowledge" of what to do in a season where my soul is darkened by the realities of life. I'm not frantically searching Scripture in desperate attempts to find a verse that speaks to the broken-hearted. I know where those scriptures are. I know what the bible says about life, about difficulties, about the goodness of God.

I know my soul is broken. And I am not lacking in understanding of this nor in the abilities of God to heal and restore it. What I lack is a desire to even care for a restoration.

This is probably the most vulnerable thing I have publicly shared about myself. I honestly am not looking for cards in the mail or Facebook comments that use Christian sentiments as a pat on the back of encouragement. I'm not being honest because I am groveling for encouragement and compliments.

I write this to be honest with you. Because you're my friends, you're my family, you're the people who live with me, work with me, stand by me, love me, and pray for me.

I'm honest, not to start a "pray for Josh campaign" or a "be concerned for Josh campaign" or a "let's say nice things to Josh campaign". I'm honest because you deserve honesty. You deserve the truth. And it's something I haven't always been given in my relationships with people. So I want to be honest as much as possible with you.

~~~

"You're going to have to make sacrifices if you're going to get aggressive about your soul." She stated it calmly, but it was accompanied by a desire to see this season pass in my life.

The snow was now lightly falling outside the window and my eyes darted about the room, avoiding her gaze.

"Yup." I tersely responded as I inhaled and then exhaled - a lucid sign that I was silently saying "I know what you mean and you're right. I just don't know if I care to be aggressive."

She smiled. She must have known what I was thinking even though I hadn't voiced it.

As the hands on the clock danced on in a perfect duet, we talked and soon it was time to bid her good night and ultimately, a farewell.

"Keep me updated on your life" she said.

I'm not sure I responded. But we hugged and I walked out into the winter's night.  

All In One Basket

Put all one's eggs in one basket 

        - to make everything dependent on only one thing; 

        - to place all one's resources in one place, account, etc. 

        - i.e. if the basket is dropped, all is lost

"To make everything dependent on only one thing."

"If the basket is dropped, all is lost."

I probably should have known better. I should have seen it coming. I should have known. Putting all your hope in one thing, the proverbial "eggs in one basket", it means that when the basket is dropped all is lost. 

I am embarrassed to say I did just that. And this fall the basket was dropped and there was loss. 

To be completely candid I am angry that the basket was dropped. But more than being angry at the loss, I am angry with myself for having ever put so much hope and expectation in the basket to begin with. I was incredibly stupid. I was blinded by my own hopes and dreams to even see that I had placed all of them in one basket. 

And sadly the basket was not Christ. 

Had it been, I do not believe the loss would have been so great. 

I tricked myself into thinking "I'm investing in my future". It seemed logical. And had you observed you may have even agreed with me. It did not appear my hopes and dreams were being frivolously wasted.

But when dreams and hopes are not placed in Christ, no matter how long they appear fulfilling, there will come a day where the basket will be dropped. When that day comes, whether tomorrow or 30 years from now, the loss and reality of that moment will be enough to rob the very life from your bones.

And if it hasn't happened already, I guarantee it will. 

Because Christ is the only one who can bring true, everlasting fulfillment. Because only Christ can promise faithfulness. Because only Christ is steadfast, unwavering, constant, the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Intellectually I know this. Intellectually I knew it as I placed one dream after another in the same basket for months and even years . But I had comforted myself with the words "investment in my future". 

Investment in my future...

The only investment in your future worth having is living for Jesus today.

There is a lot of sorting out to do in my life. I have yet to truly process the basket being dropped. I would rather just move on and start fresh, as though I hadn't wasted months and years of investment. But sadly, the heart is not a battery that can just be jump started and work properly again. 

"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it." Matthew 13:45-46