You're Looking A Little Tired Over There...

Rest.
Stop.
Be still.
The sons of Korah, speaking through the inspiration of the Spirit, write in Psalm 46:10,
"Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted. I will be exalted in Israel."
How well do we know God?
And the God that we claim to know, do we know that He is God?
What does this mean? Are you moved in your soul by your thoughts of who and what God is? Do you find yourself shrinking as the shadow He casts engulfs you more each moment, as you come to know just how massive and AWE-ful He is? It is no small deed that He at the very least CREATED YOU, is it?!
In another translation of the verse, the word "Stop" is used in place of "Be still." Literally God is telling His creation to "STOP!" "HALT!" "DON'T TAKE ANOTHER STEP UNTIL YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHO I AM!" This is so counter to our American "Go-Fast" lives. Do we even know how to stop? Half the time we can't even obey the stop signs (have you ever pulled off the infamous "rolling stop?") while driving. Stopping is simply a waste of time.
Jesus modeled this verse many times to his onlookers. He would steal away for time alone with his Father. He would ditch the crowds and his disciples and hang out in the desert or in a grove of trees and simply be...
with his Maker.
The God who made His dwelling among us, modeled time spent with Himself to show us how important it is to "get away" from the pressures and cares and live a life knowing... well... Him. This can only happen when we pull away for a time. When we are still. When we stop. Jesus was showing us that it was not a waste of time, if the time is spent focusing on the One who made all of this for us.

And honestly, in my opinion, you could use the break.

You're looking a little tired over there.

I know I'm tired.

You must be exhausted!

Why not take a little time and just be still.

It truly can happen anywhere. I'm finding a few moments of rest while I stand next to a conveyor belt and box bottles of salad dressing. Good thing ear plugs were invented! I have begun to use moments while working to think hard about Papa, God. To get lost in thoughts of who and what He is. As it has happened, my world is drastically changed.
Throughout the Word, God wants to be known. He is making Himself known in many different ways and at different stages along the way, so as to allow no man excuse not to know Him. He was very personal with Adam and Eve -- walking and talking with them in the Garden. He made Himself very clearly known to Abraham and Sarah. He showed His power over and over to the Israelites, even going before them as a pillar of fire. He walked before Moses, allowing Him to see only His backside. He put literal words into the mouths of His prophets, so as to make His people know Him more and believe in Him.

Then...

Something happened which had not happened perhaps since the beginning of time...

He walked the earth as a man.

He wanted man to see who He was and what He was about. They had gotten so distracted and lost in the world He made for them that they forget to know Him. They forgot to revere Him. So He came. And walked. And talked. And ate. And drank. And peed. And breathed. And slept. And grew weary. He even felt pain. Intense pain. Searing pain. Pain so great that He asked His Father to take away the cup meant only for Him (meaning the business of being hung on two wooden logs, in place of our failings). He did all this that we might look to His Father, to Himself, and know that He is God alone. To rest in Him. To be still and know that He is God alone. To exalt His name above all other jumbles of words. To know. And to know in stopping. To know in being still with Him.
I am about to kill two birds with one stone, as the cliche says. I am going to send out a challenge. This challenge will be for you. And this challenge will be for me as well. I challenge us to stop. To slow down. To be still today! To step outside your current life for a moment, with all the hustle and bustle, and seek Him in the quiet. Close your eyes maybe. Keep them open if you're worried about falling asleep. Stare at the wall. Read your Bible. Look over creation all around you. But whatever you do, whatever I do, let us think on Him. For no better time spent than to spend it on the one who created time. See what happens. Do this over the course of many days, weeks, months. It will take time to reteach yourself how to stop. To not think about work. To not think about the kids or your spouse. To not think about the bills piling up on the kitchen table. Stop those thoughts for a little while. And dwell... solely... on... HIM! I'll say it once more -- see what happens.
Be still.
Stop.
Rest.

Gideon's $1.29

Judges 7.
Gideon defeats the Midianites.
If you get the opportunity, read that chapter. It is fascinating. Gideon is fascinating. And even more fascinating is God in this story. The way He strips down the comfort of Israel. Israel had grown to find much safety in her armies. Since their exodus from Egypt, God had been mustering her armies for battle many times before. If God fought with them, they won. If God was not with them, they lost. And ran. And hid. And were taken captive. And plundered.
But on this occasion, God has called Israel to do battle with the Midianites. And there is a catch of sorts...
vs. 2 says: "The LORD said to Gideon, 'You have too many men for me to deliver Midian into their hands. In order that Israel may not boast against me that her own strength has saved her, announce now to the people, "Anyone who trembles with fear may turn back and leave Mount Gilead."' So twenty-two thousand men left, while ten thousand remained."
Once more, the LORD said there were too many men for Him to deliver Israel. And so again, the LORD sifts the army and this time...
vs. 7 says: "With the three hundred men that lapped I will save you and give the Midianites into your hands."
32000 men. Gideon's army.
300 men. God's army.
God sifts. God whittles. God removes the obvious comfort of having 32000 men armed and ready for battle. And God knew, knowing the heart of men for which He created, that a defeat with that many men would have meant Israel seeing her own glory. And so, God being the jealous God that He is, removes any chance that Israel can look to herself anymore. He wanted the glory for Himself. He is God, after all. He is more than worthy of all glory. Glory was created for Him and Him alone.
Here is my story. I left my job as the Youth Director at Trinity Reformed Church last December. I left with my 2001 Saturn wagon (which I still owed money on). With less than $2000 in my savings (in March, I had to pay a $950 car insurance payment). And with the need to do some healing.
Eventually, I ended up in Duluth, MN. By this time, I had $800 to my name. This was in April. (Now mind you, I still have that annoying car payment each month. I have been trying to sell that vehicle since April.) I settled into the school bus and began searching the city for a job. Any job. Just something to help put food on the table and gas in the car. The job never came. I had found one, at The Edgewater Hotel and Resort as a housekeeper, but the Lymes Disease I had back in June prevented that from working out. I have applied to restaurants, hotels, retail stores, group homes, etc. Nothing. I have had a few interviews. But nothing has worked out.
I sit here, August 12th, and have yet to find work here in Duluth. And my time is drawing to a close. God has been whittling down my comfort. He has been sifting. I have tried to be responsible with the money I had this year. I have bought nothing frivolous. I have taken my girlfriend out to eat a few times and we've been to a few movies. I bought wood stain for my growing carving passion. I bought a new basketball. I have filled my gas tank just enough times to get by. I have kept just enough food around to survive off (in addition my girlfriend has helped tremendously in this area -- so a big thank you to her). And that is it. Besides the car payment. Having just written out my check for August's car payment, and making sure my checking account had enough to cover that cost, I will have $1.29 remaining to my name. By the goodness of my parents, I do have $42 in my wallet for gas for making it back to Iowa soon. A trip I will have to make, as a job may have come available down there. But there it is. If you would like to rob me, you now know how much I would be able to offer you.
I understand a huge difference resides between the importance of Gideon's story and my own. One deals with the safety of a nation. And God's glory through her. The other story deals with one man's trying to survive. One very small man. And God's glory through his story. God loves that one small man. And I used Gideon's story to begin, only because in a much smaller way, I too have had my comfort and safety sifted. Whittled. And God wants me to trust Him. With whatever I have left. And so I must. Even if I must walk everywhere. And eat wild berries from the side of the road. And pee in the woods (which I had been doing while living on the bus). I will strive to trust.
It is one of my biggest weaknesses right now. Trusting. I have been awful at it. And that may well be why God keeps whittling. Why my funds are being sifted. Because they do not belong to me. They never did. They have always been His. And He wants me to understand that and trust Him, to which they belong. He can do whatever He may please.
He still deserves the glory. He must have it. No matter what we do. God is glorified. It is the joy of the LORD that His creation should bring Him glory. He doesn't need it from us. He is awesome, incredible, perfect, loving, compassionate, good, and a host of other words which fail to all-encompass Him. But I want Him to be glorified through my little life. My small existence. If I am not, God will simply get it from somewhere else. For He may cause the very rocks to cry out His name!
Amen.
There it is. Gideon's $1.29.

Grace Like Shampoo.

Saturday night. Jenna and I were to my home in Iowa, visiting my family. My sister Victoria and I were up watching an Alfred Hitchcock movie. It was around midnight.
Chara, my families dog, was barking to be let in. She is a black with white belly Britney Spaniel and Lab mix. Almost 11-years old. If she was a high school guy, she would fit right in with her shaggy fur and slightly curled up tail. Weighs around 60 pounds. Head comes to your waist, maybe a little above. She has been a huge part of our family since we got her as a pup. Very devoted dog. The sort that you can let off a leash and are assured she won't run away screaming. Victoria got up to let her in.
Oh the night we were about to find ourselves in the midst of.

Toria, as we call her, came into the living room where I was sitting, waiting for the commercials to stop their jabber, and said with a slightly distressed, slightly confused look on her face: "Chara is drooling from both sides of her mouth."
"What?" I asked.
"Chara has lots of drool running from both sides of her mouth."
"Ok. Well, let her in and we'll see why."
Just so you know right now, we never figured out why she had such drool coming from her mouth. But she was right because it was as if the fountain of youth had found its way through her insides and out her mouth.
But the story continues...
The moment that hound entered the house, I felt some terrorist group proclaiming war against my nose. Chara came in stinking. She smelled awful. The odor filled the house immediately.
Since it was my parent's house, I did the only thing I knew to do which was wake them. This began the long part of the night, as the three of us -- Toria, my mother, and I -- went to work trying to remove the stench. My mom tried a damp cloth and dog shampoo. Dry. Not going to work. We need more ammo. We need water.
Shower time.
So I stripped of everything but my boxers (yes, I just said my boxers... don't get your undies all in a tizzy) and beckoned Chara come into the shower with me. It was in that shower that I first began to realize the bigger picture of what this event was showering me... I mean showing me. There in the half-bath shower of my parent's main floor bathroom. With a solid fiberglass door and shower head on a hose. At 12:30am. Trying to hold my breath from the smell which was now locked up in the small space that Chara and I now occupied together. I scrubbed. Soaked. Rinsed. And scrubbed a little more. All trying to overcome the stink that Chara got herself into.
In that shower, wet and covered in clumpy black hair from Chara's coat, thoughts of God filled my mind. Thoughts that would not permit me loose until I had fought and thought and fought some more. God was taking another occasion to teach me truth. His truth. The only truth that is truth.
There are so many times we get ourselves into a stink of a situation. We wreak! We're dirty. And we don't even realize it. God has to take us by the hand and lead us into the shower with Him. We have to humble ourselves to letting Him wash our stench away. He strips down into His God-sized boxers (I don't know very well whether or not He has need of wearing boxers) and very gently and lovingly begins the cleaning process. The water runs down over us. We are a little scared and ashamed. We don't understand how we ended up in this place again. We keep our head lowered and breath very slowly, as did Chara in that shower. We figured last time would be the last time. But He just keeps washing away the odor that had so worked it's way into our heart. Grace is lathered across our souls. He works it in deep. To penetrate to the root of our thick fur, where the smell resides. The water continues to fall on us. He continues to work on our mess. A mess -- a smell -- we cannot remove ourselves. We try. Chara tried too. She came in from the outside and started rolling all over the carpet. She wanted the smell off her. So she did what she knew best to do. Roll around. But all it does is spreads. She is so very kind enough to share with everyone else. But all her rolling and rubbing doesn't do a thing. Neither does any of our own fixes. Alcohol. Drugs. Sex. The latest and greatest toy from Best Buy. A heavy paycheck. A new relationship or lover. A juicy romantic novel. A plate of french fries. Day time TV. Even our own pursuit of good health. It's us. Trying to fix and rid ourselves of our own stench. On our own. Without Him. And the carpet still stinks.
But still He remains. With such gentleness, He moves His hand across us with water pouring down to wash away the grit and grim of our sins and makes sure to rinse out well everything. Leaving no trace behind. He works in His own perfect timing. And finally, we exit the shower once again clean and smelling like some beautiful scent that the Creator of the universe could only dream up.
The stench and stink is gone. Wash away. GONE! Did you hear me? It no longer exists. What once was is now no more. No more. No more war against the nose. No more smelling like burning rubber mixed with skunk. We are free from the smell. He has made us clean.
This is grace. This is forgiveness. This is the God I am wanting to live for. Willingly jumping into the shower with us and our horrible smell of a mess we made and doing what we were powerless to do.

Grace Like Shampoo.

I Saw God Today. Observations From My Walk.

Not sure what time it is.
Judging by position of sun in the sky, somewhere close to 4pm.
Sitting on a green bench down by the pier out to Lake Superior. Sitting in the shadow of the Canal Park lift bridge, to my right 100 yards. This is where man belongs. Outside. Seagulls fly around my head. This is their home. On my walk from Rose Garden to Canal Park, I observed many a beautiful thing. Not too long ago, I would have seen these things. And kept going about my merry little life.
This time I noticed them.
My observations:

God Takes Care of Seagulls.
Walking towards the pier, a young girl of maybe 8-years old, still so much in innocence and in awe of everything simple, stood in a field of grass throwing bread crumbs to the seagulls who surrounded her in numbers not easily counted. She giggled and looked excitedly at her mom -- who was preoccupied with something in their car. The seagulls swooned about and spoke to her. In their own way thanking her for the food. As I sit here thinking of the girl with the seagulls, my mind wanders to Your Word where You spoke about even the sparrows having their needs met. The young girl was meeting a need of the seagulls while also feeding her own wonder. You take care of us just like the girl and the seagulls -- standing in the midst of us with a bag of bread crumbs enough for all of us, food which does more than satisfy hunger. You take care of us. In simple ways. In ways not under our control. And you take joy in doing so. You stand there in amazement of Your creation. And (I have to believe) You even let out a little harmonious laugh as You wonder over the simple pleasure of the food which you offer. Well, I say thank You! It's yummy.

Water-Locked Rocks.
I also observed on my walk some rocks just off shore. Probably 20 of them. Large. Separated from the shoreline. Sticking up just enough to be above the water line when waters are calm. But the waters were not calm today. As I watched, waves were crashing against the little patch of rocks. CRASH CRASH CRASH!!! The rocks found themselves surrounded and alone. The water would roll in fast and smack the rocks, shooting upward and falling all over the rocks. If rocks needed oxygen they would barely have enough time to catch their next breath before the subsequent wave arrived. As I thought through this scene, I let my mind wander to those times in my life when I was one of those rocks, with waves crashing against me, making it hard to breathe and stay above the suffocating waters. The waters of life and events which seem to pick up from nowhere like a westward wind off the lake. Things out of our control. All we can do is sit there and take it. CRASH CRASH CRASH!!! Sitting separated from my shoreline. Exposed. We get pounded sometimes. But You showed in Your Word that You have power even over the wind and waves. The rocks that I observed never budged. They never moved from their place. They stood their ground. This is what You can help us do when we're one of those rocks. How refreshing even the nastiest wave can be.

A Bee Resting on a Wall.
I also observed, while walking back from the pier to this bench that I now sit on, a bee sitting on the cement pier wall. It was strange. Bees don't just sit there. They fly. They always seem to be moving. And if you see them sitting on anything, it's a flower. But a cement wall? Good luck trying to pollinate that, buddy! Moments before I had seen the little bee, a Vista Star Fleet tour boat crossed our path, having just passed under a risen lift bridge and heading out into the depths of Lake Superior. I don't know what the bee was thinking, but he sure seemed to be watching the ship pass. And why not? The bee was tired, having fought a day of Northern Minnesota wind. He needed a resting place. To breathe. He seemed completely unfazed by my presence. Think about how small he is compared with us and the world-mindset we live in. It is humbling to note that in comparison we are not so much bigger in the world that we live. We just tend to think we are.
Sometimes we get tired. We need a resting place. And something to delight our two eyes (imagine having 5 eyes like the bee). God, You are like that scene. A wall to rest upon when the trials of moving about in the wind gets to be too much. And You want to delight our eyes every moment. With something way bigger than we are. Maybe a tour boat. Maybe a budding tree. Maybe a flower garden. Or a mountain range in a foggy distance. Or maybe some rocks getting hammered by waves. Or a little girl throwing bread crumbs to the birds. To remind us -- just how small we really are. And show us how flippin HUGE You are.

(Journal entry today while taking a walk along the lakewalk. The observations made. The little things noted. Trying to see things through different eyes. Trying to never get complacent with things even as small as a bee sitting on a pier cement wall.)

Blue Bird Nestled.

This is my home.
This is where I rest my head and the first thing I see when I wake up.
I am all moved in. Everything I own in the back of my Saturn station wagon. It feels good.
A new city. A fresh start. A cool pad.
Living in a bus.
Blue. Bird. Bus.
I am excited for the adventure that will be Duluth, MN. It is such a pretty city. Built into the side of a mountain, overlooking Lake Superior. I had never paid much attention. But now, like a paper cut to the finger, I know it exists. And I am learning what it is about.
I am beginning the awesome process of making friends with various ministry people here. I want to know what God is doing here already.
Then join Him there.
As Brandon Heath sings: "Give me your eyes..." so I want to see people of this city through the kind, loving eyes of our Great King!
I do not have much to give Him. Not much money left in my pockets. No degrees or great skills. Just me. And "me" brings along with him his passion for understanding God's heart for the world, church, creation. I am a simple person. I need very little. So my new home is perfect.
Please pray that God opens abundant doors into this vast city.
Duluth is:
College town.
Tourist Trap.
Ghetto Gateway.
Industrial.
As one pastor who I have spoken to has already said: "this city is hard soil for the gospel."
Yet others have said: "God is clearly moving in this city."
Thanks for reading.
I am home.
I am living on a bus.