One Foot, then the Other

If there’s one thing I’ve lacked consistently in my short twenty-two years of life, it’s grace. At least, grace as in the ability to navigate across even smooth surfaces without stumbling. Despite two mother-mandated years in ballet and three more in tap or jazz dance classes, my feet have an uncanny ability to find even the smallest flaw in a surface to trip over. This tendency of mine enhances my generally accident-prone existence.

Most of these scraped knees could be avoided if I would only examine the ground I’m walking on. But unless I’m walking on ice or through mud, I generally pay more attention to what’s in front of my face than what is beneath my feet. All the teen magazines and job interview tips say this is a good thing, that it gives off an air of confidence. However, the many scars on my knees say otherwise. I think I would fall much less if I simply watched where I put my feet on the path.

English major that I am, I can’t resist the metaphor inherent here. Walking through downtown Charleston with my eyes forward is very much how I’ve walked figuratively through life. Always looking ahead, always watching people and places to come, not watching where I stand in the present, where I place my feet as I take tiny steps.

I’ve been forced to give up that tendency of mine temporarily. At this point, about to graduate from College, very little is certain about the future. I don’t know if or where I’ll be teaching next year. I don’t know if I’ll be living with family or on my own. Even the ins-and-outs of my teaching internship are uncertain, generally planned only a few days in advance at the most.

People ask about what I’ll do after graduation, and I stare blankly, as if the answer will write itself in the clouds. All I know for sure is that I’ll work at camp this summer, that I’ll try to find a job teaching. If I don’t get hired, I’ll start seminary…somewhere.

This day-by-day, one foot in front of the other kind of living is new to me. Slightly nerve-wracking, but overall, refreshing. Perhaps I will fall less when I watch where I’m going. Time will tell!

God-Centered

I came to the Passion Conference with a sizeable amount of skepticism; events like this sometimes seem so focused on human talent and Christian super-stars, singers and speakers and writers, and on glorifying one self while degrading the mass. I saw some of the worship songs I knew would be sung as somewhat corny, one-dimensional expressions of praise. But the best part of being skeptical is that God reveals the most to those who expect the least.

For months, I have thrown myself into ministry through camp, in addition to school and work. Though I find so much joy in my work at CLR, I ended 2009 feeling spiritually-drained, like I had nothing left to give despite my desire for the contrary. In fact, one of the main reasons I signed up for this event at all, one of the draws Passion 2010 had for me in the first place, was that I could be on the other side. I could listen instead of speak, watch instead of work, sing rather than supervise. How inexcusably selfish of me.

My awakening was not an explosion. No, my awakening was a match dropped in a forest. One lyric in a song sparked in that dry, flammable surface of my Saharan heart, fueled by another word, another prayer, and when John Piper spoke tonight, my awakening had grown into a wildfire. I feel uncontainable, alive.

God, let me not be addicted to emotion but let my worship be action. My voice is hoarse, my mind spinning, and my smile wide, God, but let me love You, not the fleeting moment of understanding, of wet eyes and fluttering heart. God, move me not to tears but to steps. Let my worship be action, and take all glory as your own. Your servant burns; light me again when I smolder, when exhaustion rains.

John Piper addressed the uncomfortable feeling that many Christ-followers secretly have (and many unbelieving people openly express) when reading verses that describe God as “jealous” and verses where God demands glory, demands that his name be praised. Piper quoted one writer as calling Jesus an “egomaniac” for such verses in Scripture. I myself wondered (and promptly apologized to God for my traitorous thoughts, which I believed them to be at the time) why God would demand worship. But in words I can’t hope to repeat coherently, God used John Piper to reveal another aspect of himself to me and 21,000 other believers.

As concisely as I can manage: God is God-Centered. Above anything, God desires glory, for His name to be honored and praised and exalted above all else.

God is jealous, demanding our worship. Christ said that anyone who loves father or mother, son or daughter, or self more than Me does not deserve Me. God is God-Centered, not man-centered.

God is not an egomaniac. God. Is. Love. God is God-Centered, and therefore Love-Centered. God desires us to love Him above anything else in this world because there is nothing else in this world that will not fail. Money fills no longing, material possessions pass away. Education or fame dissolves.  Even the strongest of human relationships will disappoint. But God. Is. Love. And love never fails.

God demands are worship because above all else, he desires our joy. When we worship in truth, we experience joy. When we worship in action and in justice, others experience joy. God is love, and can be nothing BUT God-centered.

Anyone who tries to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. – Jesus

My joy can never be complete without Christ. My joy can never be complete if I put anything higher than God. God is most glorified when we are satisfied in Him.

On Christ the solid rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand.

Prayer. Reminder.

Jesus, my grasp is weak. My mind is feeble, my eyes are dim, and my reach is always too short. But I thank you, over and over, I thank you that you chose to call us not servants, but friends, that you choose to reveal to us your will, involve us in your plan.

God, we can’t thank you enough to ever mean it truly for the cross of Christ. We cannot forget the cross, that expression of your ultimate and perfect and unfathomable love.

God, I am so grateful that you are God-centered, not Hillary-centered. I am just Hillary; of sinners, I am the worst. I am nothing without You. You, God, are perfect love. And you will bring your name to the highest glory, you will demand that we love you more than anything because you are the only constant, the only thing we could love that will never fail. Only by loving you above all else can we experience ultimate joy. You are a God-centered God because you are Love, Love-Centered God. Thank you.

I pray in absolute confidence that this world will never be the same for what has happened today, that you will have your name glorified above all until every knee bows and every tongue confesses, and God I am so grateful that my weak eyes will one day see it.