the unshakable kingdom

One of my favorite verses has always been Hebrews 12:28 -- "

Therefore, let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire."

I'm realizing now that when I think back on the good days in Missouri, and I fondly remember how much I loved the worship at James River, it wasn't just because worship feels good.  It was because all of that time in worship was time that I was giving God to prepare me for serving Him.  Because he was giving me that kingdom that cannot be shaken.

Think about it-- everything in our lives can be shaken.  You could get sick tomorrow, and lose your job, and then your finances would go down the tubes, and who knows what would happen to your relationships, and the economy could collapse, and dynasties and regimes have been falling for centuries, and the very ground we stand on can be shaken from deep within the earth and tumble away.

But God's kingdom cannot be shaken.  It can't be shaken!  It can't be moved.  It won't fall away.

What do we make of that?  How do we respond to it?  How do we receive something so foreign?  Something so unlike our own lives and bodies?

We worship.  Because God is holy.  And because in worship he refines us, he makes us unshakable.

The Message puts that last bit like this -- ""For God is not an indifferent bystander.  He's actively cleaning house, torching all that needs to be burned..."

Torching!

I love that.  God is taking a blow torch to our sin.  To the parts of us that are fleshy and weak and shaky.  So that we can be strong, and unshakable, and full of reverence and awe.  Ready to take our place in His Kingdom.

perfect pillows

I met this girl recently, and went to her house.  It was gorgeous.  I mean, the most adorable style of home, decorated to the nines, covered in style.  I was a little jealous.  For a minute. 

And then I realized-- I can't have this life.  

Every once in a while, in prayer, or church or study, or just thinking about Jesus, I get this glimpse of something.  I can't describe what it is.  It's a vision of my future, of what my future could be any way, and it is....amazing. 

It's risky, and dangerous, and out there, and it takes every thing I have, everything I'll ever have.  

I don't really know what it is--I mean, I've got no particulars.  No where.  No when.  No what, really.  The only thing I know is that it is not the perfect life, it's not the nice life.  It's not a pretty house with perfectly color-coordinated pillows.  It is a life in the wild.  Life on the very edge of God's provision-- you know that edge where you've given everything for Jesus, left nothing for yourself, and are just waiting on the miracle.  Because without the miracle, you're gonna free-fall. 

I so want to be on that edge.  I was made for it, I know that now.  

God has been dragging me from place to place for so long.  I'm starting to see.  

My body wants comfort-- wants the beautiful home, and the pillows.  My soul wants rugged and wild and radical glory for God.  

Lord, show me.  Show me where to start.  

hello again, old friend

It has been almost two years since I last wrote on this blog.  

In that time, I have moved from Chicago to Pittsburgh, gotten engaged and then married, and then celebrated one year of marriage, made an entirely new set of friends, settled in at an entirely new job, come to know my new family, attempted to get to know my new church, and celebrated three years as a cancer survivor.  

That's kind of a lot. 

But I'm not happy.  Truth be told.  I'm...wow, what am I?  I'm... I'm weary.  I feel stifled, and as though everything in my life is obligatory.  I miss joy.  Pure, unbridled, awesome joy.  Like at Wednesday night prayer service, standing there in the dark, arms high, singing out worship and praise to this mysterious God I had just come to understand.  That was joy.

They say (who is they?  who knows) that when you lose your way with the Lord, you should go back to the last thing He told you.  I don't quite recall what that was, so instead, I'm going back to the last time I remember doing really well with Him.  What kinds of things did I do then?  How did I do them? 

Well, for starters, obviously, I wrote about Him.  Kind of a lot.  In complete honesty.  With abandon.  I wrote about my worship, about my service, about my questions and doubts and joys.  I put on a bunch of worship music, rocked out, and wrote it down.  

So I'm coming back.  Because I believe in a faithful God-- a God who is there when I turn back to Him, and who, just as surely as he brought in the first whirlwind of crazy faith and unbelievable mountain tops, will bring in another.  

Are you ready?