Lessons Hidden in the Aftermath

Following Jesus is not a promise for an easy life. We do not say yes and in exchange receive an instant happy pill. Unlike our societies fast-food, "I want it now lifestyle", God enjoys a process. He likes leading us step by step and along the way teaching us how to be more like Him. This Christian walk is hard. We will mess up. We will struggle. Our pride will crash and burn in the most inconvenient, embarrassing ways possible.  But that is where God's teaching course begin. He takes our mess ups and transforms our hearts to deal with them like Jesus did.

We can't walk this life with the mindset of how not to fail. If we do, fear of failure will only cripple us into complacency. We are imperfect beings living in an imperfect world. We will mess up--it's inevitable. But it is the aftermath of our failure, of our stupid inevitable hiccups, that God uses to show us how to live a life rooted in Christ. In those moments where our pride is broken and all we want to do is quit and believe the lies that things will never chance we must look at the face of Jesus. We put ourselves lower and repent. We forgive those that have wronged us. We delete the past and move forward into what He has called us to, into the process of loving Him. 

Oh how I am sick of getting caught up in the idea that we all deserve equality or to be treated "fairly".  In all reality our human nature screams sin! We don't deserve kindness. We aren't worthy of forgiveness. We don't even deserve Heaven!  The only reason we have an inheritance is because a sinless Man died on a cross to be with us.  We pride ourselves on being right and not making any mistakes. We attempt to walk through life as the perfect poster child. But God has a different plan. He destroys our pride and teaches us how to walk in humility. That is where we find Him. That is where we grow in love. This life is not a one way ticket to Heaven. Jesus is offensive, He is challenging, but He wins us over when, in that,  He doesn't leave us. He uses those struggles as a stepping stone to dive deeper into His love. His promise is not happiness, it is eternity in perfect love. He likes watching us evolve into loving Him. He smiles when we lower ourselves and forgives despite whether the person deserves it. He enjoys us turning to Him in desperation when our hearts our beaten down and torn to pieces. 

Oh God how Your plan is intricate and detailed and I don't understand it, but I believe it is perfect and for that I open my arms and will follow. Teach me how to love better. How to put on the face of Christ. I want to love the same way you love. I want to be so transparent that as I talk to others they look through me and see You. My flesh is weak; rooted in selfishness, anger, lust. It wages war on my spirit. Help me listen to You and not the voice of my worldly desires. In those moments where my pride is ripped from me and I am left empty, I want to go lower. Take me deeper to the place where I can see You face to face. 

I will endure the process if it means I get to be with You all the days of my live. All of this struggle and pain will be worth it one day. In the midst of a prideful world chisel mine away.  In those moments where I am wrong teach me how to react rightly. Let me walk in humility as Jesus did.
I can't make it on my own. I can't breath without You inflating my lungs. I can't learn without You as my teacher. So come Jesus and reveal to me Your ways. Teach me how to respond in the aftermath of failure. I will follow. 

The Endurance of Burnt Toast

The other day a friend turned to me and said, “Holls… Jesus is actually coming back.” We were sitting on a giant cement block of a World War memorial looking over the Kansas City skyline. I had never been there before this night and I sat staring at the lights that illuminated the night sky. The cars moved, the sound of a train’s horn bounced between the tall buildings and people, each with a story, walked through the winding streets. And so we sat for three hours covering almost every stereotypical conversation that usually occurs when looking out over a city of lights. We were discussing how we sometimes cling to the very things that suck us dry. And in that moment, oh in that sticky mess, how we so badly just want our hearts to align with the logic of our minds. It is at precisely that moment where she mentioned His second coming.

Everything in this life is unto that day where Jesus rolls back the skies and comes for His bride. I feel so often that part in the story becomes a footnote put aside for a later time. It becomes this ethereal thing that each generation lazily and carelessly hands the responsibility over to their children and children’s children. But that only makes us ignorant. The Day the Lord returns should be the center of our life focus always. It should be the one event we prepare for more than any other. Our society is so mesmerized by the accomplishments of the flesh that we often miss the true meaning of life. We cling to comfort. We search for easy living, a day-to-day walk that doesn’t make us too tired or stressed. happiness thought to be found in luxury and accomplishment; the more zeros in our bank account total makes us better than another with one less. But in reality, making our first love a career or house or even a fancy car is nothing in comparison to knowing the Lord. Jesus isn’t going to come back one day and wonder what the interior of our car looks like; His priority is what our heart is focused on.  That must be our goal—our end. We must walk daily towards the truth that He really is coming back.

I sit here in this prayer room and I am hit with the terrifying truth that I now live in Missouri. For the past week I have had random freak out moments that cause me to pause and shout, what the heck have I just done! They have come when I am waiting for the officer to write me my speeding ticket, when I’ve burnt rice twice and once again have to settle with toast (that also burns), when I use a 50 cent fork to cook entire dinners. It is those moments when my closest friends leave and I am left alone in a house that is 85 degrees and infested with demon-possessed crickets that defy the death trap of a lawn mower where I wonder how I landed here. Why I ever chose to leave the sweet bliss of my hometown. But it is also in this prayer room that I find my answer. As we sing, "for from you are all things and to you are all things” I am reminded why I came. I am living to prepare for a wedding that will be my gateway into eternity. These sweet moments in a prayer room I’ve spent so much time in causes my heart to yearn for more of Him. Nothing else matters when we are exposed to the love He has for us to be with Him where He is.

My friend is right. Her heart is focused on our upward calling as the inheritance of Jesus. In the midst of trial and tribulation she turns to Her father, to the One she moved here for. She is an intercessor fighting to know who our God is. She defies the world’s lies of comfort and instead gazes upon the beauty of a Man who is actually going to come to us. We don’t come here for easy living, but for a meaningful chase after Jesus. He is coming back. He wants to marry His bride. He wants to bring us perfect love. That truth makes everything else manageable.  When I’ve killed my 7^th spider for the evening and my prayer room walk home buddy is 4408 miles away and all that I’ve known in the last 6 months is gone,  I can find comfort in His unchangeable being. I can look back at His face and know He has not left. I continually return to the basics, the milk and honey, and answer the simple redundant question: why am I here? In a place that has no need for indoor steam rooms I have come for only one thing: to know the One who has stolen my heart and to prepare for a wedding feast that is promised to occur. He is my reason. His 2^nd coming is why I endure the taste of burnt toast. He has stolen my heart. Against all opposition, all laziness, any movement that occurs around me, I will run to my Bridegroom because one day there will be a wedding and I want to be dressed accordingly. 

He Stares and Time Stands Still

I read in John 8 about the Woman caught in adultery and this is what I imagine:

The Uncreated God locks eyes with the eyes of a young Jewish girl standing alone. He knows her; He remembers when she was created, every crumb of her being thought out. The curve of her body, the shape of her lips, the sound of her beating heart sewn together to create a uniqueness that will never again be cloned. What was it like in that moment to stare back at the eyes of the One keeping the stars in the sky and sustaining her breath right now? The Maker stares at His perfectly designed masterpiece and can recall her as a small child; remembers the time when He took His hands and painted the color in her eyes. The Incarnate, dwelling outside the colorful canvas of the universe, places Himself right in the center of all the flesh, bone, blood that makes up humanity and stares at His beloved, His soon to be bride. "She turns away, she denies my truth and yet I still love her," He patiently waits.

This woman caught in the ultimate shameful act, stripped of all privacy and dragged through the streets of those who mock her, now stands bare, undone, vulnerable in front of her only reason for living. He stares and she stares back and time stands still. "Has no one condemned you?" Her King asks. Time still frozen. She whispers back to her Maker, "No one Lord." And then that moment comes that we are all waiting for; the one that we live for. When our King looks into our soul and judges with a judgment only found under the mercy umbrella held by the Uncreated One. He says, "neither do I condemn you, go; and from now on sin no more." I can only imagine what that statement did to the inside of her; what she must have felt like in that moment. Those words have the power to make her fully alive. That gaze has the intensity to shake her inner core as the truth is unveiled that the One who made her does not see what the world sees. Though the world drowns Her heart with darkness, His breath washes clean every crevice of her soul.

I feel like this young girl. Darkened from the world, but lovely to Him. He peers through me and knows me better than I know myself; not because I always let Him in on my life, but it is because of His working hands that I can ever be one to be known. Twenty years ago for me and outside of time for Him I became a thought amongst the communion of the Godhead. As the three-in-one dwelled together and within each other a moment came where I was desired; a blank canvas was laid down and my Father drew up my existence and then named me. I was not a random object placed here by mistake; my life was perfectly planned. He carefully chose every trait and feature that would mold together to make up my form. I started as an idea, an intricate plan, and was made alive by just one simple blow of His breath. He is my Master and I His puppet; with my strings attached to the Heavens, He, without mistake, controls my every movement. In, out; inhale, exhale—I breathe because He lets it be. His gaze into my heart is no change into what He has always been doing and will do. Even when I didn't want Him He was always speaking and I closed my ears. I turned my eyes from my Designer, from my Papa, and sold myself to the world's opinion of satisfaction, but He stayed near. "I love you," He screamed as I scratched hopelessness into the hips He handmade. I found comfort in the arms of others, yet His arms stayed open, empty—waiting for me. My thoughts dwelled in the bondage of fantasy of what I could be, while my pathway He calls good laid open waiting for the trail of my footprints. So with this passion, with His all-knowing love He bruised my heart with His gaze that never leaves. I will take your pain His compassion shouts. I take your sins His scars prove.

So here I am again—bare, stripped, waiting for His love to fall afresh over me once more. As the young Jewish girl I stand in front of my Maker tainted by the deception of this fallen world waiting to hear what He calls me. He sees into my inner core and calls me pure.

"I love you lord," I whisper under my breath and in Heaven He moves. "I put my trust in You," I say (half believing).

"Okay here I am for you to trust" my Maker responds.

I stare back at my Father, my Redeemer, my Husband and give myself over. In this moment my strings are pulled and I stand upright walking with His strength--alive with His light. I can feel my blood flow and my heart burn and I know that His hand is touching my frail, weak body--I fall in love. In this moment I find my resting place just as the young Jewish girl experienced 2000 years ago. I am safe. I close my eyes and see Him gaze as He sings over me and within me. As a Father He embraces me, as a husband He calls me beautiful, as a Maker He restores me to my original being. And as I stand motionless listening to His melody I wish that time didn't have to start up again.

A White Wall Always White

I used to have a white wall. It was beautiful and bare and without blemish. Put it in a museum or at an open house and it would speak of freedom and safety, freshness and purity. There was an innocence to it for the wall had never before left its created whiteness. And within it anything was possible. The imagination would soar with what it could look like and become, dreams that could one day be reality. But what happens when this white wall isn't white anymore? When it becomes stained with color and every white spot disappears? When it becomes wet with red and dark red colors that drip down from top to bottom soon causing all the white to disappear.  My wall is no longer new and pure, it has been exposed to the outside world--touched by color. People come and carelessly paint over my blemish free wall. They expose it to greens and blacks and different shades of gray. They don't see its beauty. They don't see thats how my wall was made, thats the color it was meant to be. They only see emptiness waiting to be exposed to the destructive color wheel.  They don't enjoy it's presence. "That's how I was created," the white wall shouts. But no one hears and the screaming voice becomes quieter as it is slowly covered by the darkness that it now lays beneath.

Soon my wall has every color causing it to have no one color. Each pigment blends together, eyes look upon it, but no one can give it a name. It's identity lost among the array of colors layered atop each other. Though over time the paint fades and loses its brightness the wall does not go back to white. Where will my wall find its whiteness?

When I thought there would be no resting place, no place to call home for my once white wall there appeared eyes that looked with a gaze of complete adoration. They are altogether different than the eyes that failed to give my wall a label.  These eyes stare with a fiery passion and loving intensity as if they've seen my white wall before it was tainted with the hands of humanity. The sun finds its resting place under the earth and then meets the sky once more and the hands on the clock twirl round and round yet the One staring at my wall never leaves. "I see" a Voice says, "I see the white. I see its roots, I know it's origins. White is the foundation, the first layer, I see it."

Where do the colors go in these gazing eyes? Why can they see beyond the ruined surface? How can they see into the darkness of each layer? All other eyes stare and do not see, but these, glistening with flames, look and know the truth of my wall. The voice says once more, "I see because I created it. I am the Maker, the Designer, the Artist of this white wall. This wall I painted with My own hands. No color can taint it; it is perfect, without blemish. An open canvas to imagination, to creativity--to the purpose it was created for. Oh how I love My white wall," the Voice proclaims "Though the world touches it and only sees the blended darkness, I see beauty and purity. I see originality and uniqueness. I see my beloved adorned with the innocence I first painted. This wall is my masterpiece and I will forever call it white."

Walking in the Light

We are so blind to what actually lives inside of us. We focus on the meaningless little things and forget that the actual sustainer of life is inside our bellies right next to that yogurt, half an orange and 11 pieces of M&M carrot cake flavored candy some of us had for lunch. Many of us are naive to the powerful truth that our bodies were actually built for more than toning for a six pack and dressing up like dolls. We are machines that hold God and have the extraordinary gift of finding the true Word within. In Corey Russels book “The Glory Within,” he compares this obliviousness to having a “billion dollars in our bellies, yet most of us live on 20 cents a day” (Russell, 40). We often wonder why we don’t experience the power of God though He is living inside of us and the answer is because we aren’t actively responding and pursuing the call God has set out for us.

When one doesn’t know the love of the Lord and power of the Holy Sprit our inner beings are dead. Without the love of God we are just walking around and making noise. There is truly nothing to live for. But when we confess the truth of Christ Jesus everything changes. Corey Russell mentions that, “when Adam and Eve fell, the Life that dwelt deep within them suddenly left, and they were alone” (37). This is what it is like to deny God, to not know His love—we are alone. But God has brought Holy Spirit, who Jesus himself also calls the Helper, to spiritually guide us through this natural realm thus living in supernatural ways. Through our inner being we bring together the spiritual and natural realm—a small foreshadow of the days to come in the New Jerusalem. “[Holy Spirit] tears down, uproots and destroys everything in us that is not conducive to the life of God and everything that is not aligned with His holiness;” (110) He is the sweeper to the cobwebbed and blackened places of our heart. Praying in tongues first strips us to then strengthen us with a shield of holiness. God gives us 24/7 access into wearing the breastplate of God’s protection. When we pray in the Spirit it strengthens our souls and we are not the same; “we are building within our Spirits a house where we can experience communion with God” (105). How cool is it to be anywhere and have access into feeling the tangible presence of God? Prayer is dialogue, the more we pray to the Spirit, pray in the Spirit, the more “we will end up looking like the Holy Spirit” (47). The Spirit makes us walking vessels of light. We can put on that shield, walk into the darkest places, and not be affected by it. It gives us peace, yet makes us vicious warriors. It calms us, yet violently awakes us to the full power of God.

It is vital that we get a correct view of Holy Spirit so that we may actively pursue relationship with Him just as God intended it. Praying in the Spirit can be one of the most powerful tools into living a radical lifestyle of seeking after God wholeheartedly. When spending devoted time in praying in tongues it opens a gateway at which God uses to show us the deep things of His heart and the details of His kingdom that we could never imagine with our finite minds. We were made to actually hold the living God. The same God that made the pillars shake is living inside and says to us, “let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price” and we get to come!  

A Battle Between Oil or Dry Bones

At IHOP people have multiple positions, titles and jobs. It's not shocking to hear that your favorite worship leader might also serve you your coffee every Monday morning. Even those that seem like they do nothing or just one thing have a plethora of hidden talents and one day you'll see the section prayer and usher leader center stage with an acoustic guitar worshipping the God who made him. Singers and musicians make their way around the merry-go-round of instruments and some even finish the day off with a sermon to a 1000 thirsty souls. Misty Edwards is one of these singer-musician-preacher-everything-ers and she does it well. Today she tackled the speaking portion and did…well how Misty always does—phenomenal. I have heard her live a few times, in fact my favorite word ever heard was spoken from her lips as she broke down in detail the sustaining beauty of God described in Isaiah 40. But this afternoon, when taking us through the Parable of the Ten Virgins as she paced back and forth with her Misty Edwards one-of-a-kind strut I realized why I love her so much. Why every time she speaks my heart breaks and I find myself re-committing my passion for Jesus. Why that same Isaiah 40 message gives me new bullet wounds when I hear it. It's not because of her mad piano skills, perfect pitch, or even perfect dreads (although every time I see them I want them on my own head). But as she talked, and sometimes yelled, the truth and my heart beat faster with adrenaline it became clear that she is truly madly in love with Jesus. She knows Him as a friend, as a soon to be Bridegroom, as a Jewish man that is also fully God who died for her and so in return she will give her everything to be where He is. When she speaks the name Jesus it is not just a person she reads about or hears from a story like a game of telephone. To her, Jesus is someone she actually knows and enjoys. You can tell that she has spent time with Him—sitting at His feet, dining with Him, feasting on His glory.

This behavior Misty exudes mirrors the exact point she was trying to make with the parable. In Matthew 25 Jesus compares the Kingdom of Heaven to the likeness of 10 virgins preparing to meet the bridegroom. Most likely "virgin" is in reference to the redeemed and the "lamps" their ministries, so they were 10 believers who not only loved Jesus, but also had ministries about and for Him. The only difference between them is that five virgins brought oil and the other five did not.  The oil is the sustainer of the lamp; in this case it represents intimacy and relationship with Jesus. Jesus is explaining that we need a deep connection to Him in order for anything we do to be effective. We can accomplish things on a mass level for the body of Christ and make it look pretty from the outside, but underneath it can still be a valley of dry bones. The five virgins that brought oil practiced the First and Great commandment and put intimacy above all else. The other five were like the church of Ephesus who forgot their first love. They became lost in ministry and ignored the importance of getting to know their bridegroom on a personal level. He gives us the invitation to the wedding feast, but in order to go we must know Him. “Knowing Jesus” is having a conversation with Him. Asking Him questions and listening for the response—taking time to hang out with Him. It is vital that we learn from the five virgins that wasted their life and emptied their oil. Misty Edwards can speak a good word, sing a beautiful song, but if she herself does not have a living, breathing relationship with God it means nothing in the end except foolishness. She knows this reality. She knows it is a fight against complacency; a battle between oil or dry bones, foolishness or the wise, Because everything in life is unto death, unto persecution, unto that one day when Jesus comes back and I do not want to be a foolish virgin with an empty lamp. I want the oil before the lamp, the intimacy before the multitude. I want ministry as a secondary—an after thought in comparison to personal relationship with Him. I want to sit before Him on that Day of Judgment, look into His eyes that burn with flames of fire and have Him say, “Holly I know you and you know me." 

The 25th Elder

Every minute Jesus is interceding. Every moment those surrounding the throne are worshipping the living God. The throne room never stops. It never silences. It never gets distracted or loses focus. In Revelation 4 we get a small glimpse of what is happening in Heaven. We learn about weird creatures that have eyes all around, elders who can't stay on their feet, a sea of glass in front of a giant throne, a glorious rainbow and melodies directed at the Creator of all and it never stops. When we sleep, when we eat, when we are busy worrying about the weariness in our hearts, Jesus is still there at the right hand of the Ancient of Days interceding on behalf of His inheritance, His people--speaking my name. Those creatures eyes never turn from gazing upon the One with eyes of fire and the elders never cease to fall down over the revelation of His beauty. They are constantly preparing for the time when the spiritual realm and and natural meet to overcome darkness for forever and yet in this world so many hours are spent wasting life away. How much of our lives are wasted on meaningless things. How many conversations with Jesus do we miss out on because we are too busy stressing at work, fighting in relationships, standing in another freakin line in the supposed Happiest place on earth; we never realize how much the little things add up. 

For two months I have not been able to get the 24 elders out of my mind. They fall over and over again and never get tired. Every time they fall, they worship Jesus, get back up, then something else about Him amazes them, so they fall again. I know I've probably used this same idea in posts before, but I offer no apologies to my repetition. In fact what I am learning is that God’s Kingdom is repetitive. It is all about love. All questions and statements about God traces back to one truth: everything that He has done, is doing, and will do is for the sake of love. That little beast of a four letter word is in every part of His plan and God uses it to captivate the hearts of His elect. This is why as believers we do what we do. We enter into day and night prayer because He loves us. We love others because He loves us. We lay down our fleshy desires because He loves us and we want to love Him back. He created us for relationship, for communication with His heart, for us to sing a song to Heaven. 
The elders teach us something about prayer and worship. It's interesting that those currently closest to the throne room are ones that are in day and night prayer and worship. I 100% believe that we are called to pursue a sermon on the mount lifestyle striving to be like Jesus, but in that we can also learn something from these elders. The throne room is not a futuristic idea; it is not a room that will be made one day, but one with current movement that has been from the beginning of creation. We are not given Revelation 4 as just a "heads up" for what will soon happen, but as an example of what prayer and worship should look like in the eyes of the Lord. Of course we are still living in bodies that require food and sleep hindering us from accomplishing literal 24/7, day and night worship, but we are called to a daily prayer life. Luke 18:7-8 says that "God will bring about justice for His elect who cry it to Him day and night..." He built His kingdom atop communion with His creation. He values the daily process of seeking after Him. His heart is moved when we respond back to His voice. When we give up everything, no matter the price, and join the chase to His heart. He enjoys when we listen to Jesus' cry for us to deny ourselves, to daily take up our cross, and follow Him (Luke 9:23). The more we engage with Him the more intimate of a relationship we have with Him.
In Revelation 2 Jesus proclaims to the Church of Ephesus that He has seen “[their] works…and patience endurance and how [they] cannot bear with those that are evil” but He has one thing against them that they "have abandoned [their] first love" (Revelation 2:2-4). Good works, ministry, even corporate worship means nothing if we do not love Jesus with all of us (or at least attempt to). Without practicing the first commandment our prayers and worship become noise; a friend of mine calls it “lip service.” At the end of the age when Jesus returns I do not want to stand before Him and Him tell me He does not know me. I do not want a life wasted, a life of meaningless lip-service. We are all given different ministry callings and people to love on each other, but His first hope is that we will love Him even when no one else is around. To God, love is sacrifice. He sent His son to die for our sins so that we are able to dwell with Him forever. He wants us to die to ourselves and put on the breastplate of Christ. This life is about community, yes, but the root is a deep, personal relationship with the Maker. He is jealous for our voluntary love—choosing Him even when the world presents alternative plans.
Those surrounding Jesus in Heaven break by just looking at Him. They fall because they can't get enough of who He is. They are in so much awe over His beauty they can't stay on their feet. I want to be this moved by Him. When His presence touches me, even the slightest bit I want to be forever changed by it—a new creation He continues to make new again through His love. I want to literally fall down like the 24 elders--become number 25. It may sound crazy, but knowing that my body literally loses all strength and control when experiencing revelation of His glory is beautiful and it is what I am after. Imagine the testimony that comes from randomly falling down at work or when in line at the grocery store--people will ask what happened and the answer can be, " it was the presence of the Lord." I am after a lifestyle of forever saying yes to Jesus and His kingdom—laying down everything in order to follow His plans. I want an intimate and constant conversation with Jesus—a personal phone line connected to His heart.  If other Jesus seekers and worship music, even the prayer room was taken away, I want to be a child still seeking after my Father. When no one sees me, I want to dwell in His presence and spend time with Him. I desire a relationship that makes me unshakeable amongst the flesh. Forever I wish to sit and commune with the Man that plucked me out of darkness and gave me a spot in His inheritance. I want to be wrecked by the sight of His glory because His presence sustains me, His voice is my heart beat, and by His desire I will live forever, joining in with the song in Heaven that has never stopped.