Talents

I've been reading Brave Enough to Follow by Stuart Briscoe. And God's timing for when I started reading it sure is funny.

Someone challenged me to consider why I'd found success at work, why God led me to be promoted to leadership at a young age of 27. And my answer, which I said as if I was joking but probably reflected my heart pretty accurately, was "I always thought it was because I was awesome."

And that was the night I picked up Brave Enough to Follow. And read quotes like these:

"We often fall under the misconception that for God to do great work through us, we need to have the makings of greatness...the reality is upside down from what we think it should be. We don't have to have the courage to lead; we just need to be brave enough to follow." 

"It seems the more powerless the leader, the more glory God receives."

"If God always chose the obvious leaders to do his work, people would take all the glory for themselves. But if we are clearly weak and flawed, yet we have a part in establishing his kingdom, we cannot boast about ourselves but must instead boast that we know the Lord. God does great things through the not-so-brave among us, so the world can see that the glory is his and his alone."

Thanks, God.

Turns out maybe he's brought me to where I am because I'm not that awesome.

I think I tend to rely fairly heavily on what I perceive as my talents. I forget that even these are gifts from God, and that I can best use my talents when I'm doing so through his power.

After Peter catches the miraculous catch of fish, he tells Jesus to go away. He calls Jesus "Lord" and himself a "sinful man." In that moment, Peter saw how Jesus' power could transform his somewhat average fishing skills (and that particular night, subpar skills), and he knew God's glory. He was humbled.

I want to be the kind of person that shines God's glory through the work I do—not the kind of person that thinks I got where I am because I'm so great. I want God to transform my average talent into an overflowing net of fish.

Because He Said So

I've recently started reading "Brave Enough to Follow" by Stuart Briscoe. Like many people, I've often identified with Peter, so I thought it would be good to go through a book exploring his spiritual journey with Jesus.

The first chapter talks about the time when Jesus tells Peter to cast his nets into the lake. I'd never really thought about just how nonsensical this command seemed. In the cool of the night, Peter and the others had caught no fish. Not one. The fish would be far less likely to be present now, with the water warming up.

But here's the thing that really got me: Peter had already cleaned his nets. He'd put a lot of effort into a long night of fruitless fishing, and he'd gone through the trouble of wrapping up his day. Mentally and physically, he was done. And then Jesus tells him to put those freshly cleaned nets back in the water.

As a neat freak, I resonated with Stuart's point. Jesus was telling Peter to undo the work of cleaning his nets. And for what? Likely, for no fish...just to have to clean the nets again.

And Peter, who we know throughout the gospels is full of faux pas, acknowledges the silliness of Jesus' request...but then says this: "Because you say so, I will let down the nets" (Luke 5:5).

Last week in Sunday School a kid asked me why she couldn't do something and I said, "Because I said so." It was the first time I've said it, to my recollection! I guess you know you're old when you give a kid that reason.

But Jesus didn't need to give Peter a reason. Peter's the one who recognized that he wanted to obey just because Jesus said so.

At the end of each chapter there's a series of questions. One was "In what areas of your life is it the most difficult to let go of your agenda?" I scoffed in response, realizing I couldn't really narrow it down to just a few areas of my life. I blogged recently about not writing out a script to my life anymore. And that's good.

But I'm still a control freak. I still get annoyed when someone knocks over or moves something on my desk. I have a place for everything, and I like it that way. So I can just picture myself having cleaned and put my nets away...and I think I'd be a little perturbed that Jesus was messing with my system.

I think my whole life will be a journey of learning to let go. But this was another reminder to loosen up and give Jesus the space to speak into my life—even if it messes up my system.

Do You See Her?

Last week at LifeBridge, Rick Rusaw talked about loving your neighbors. A sermon I both resented and begrudgingly needed.

Here's what most stuck out to me. He looked at Luke 7, when a sinful woman, known to be a prostitute, comes and anoints Jesus' feet with perfume.

Those around Jesus scoff. In verse 39 the Pharisees think Jesus must not really know very much. Because if he really knew what kind of woman this was, he'd kick her out.

But Jesus reads their thoughts and tells a little mini-parable about how the more sinful the person, the more they need forgiveness.

And then he says this in verse 44, "Do you see this woman?"

I'd never really paid a whole lot of attention to that phrase, but I loved Pastor Rick's interpretation. This wasn't a vision test like, "Hey, see there's this lady here?" It was a heartfelt thought of, "Do you see her? Really see her? Do you see past the exterior of the life she's known for, into her heart? Do you see her hurts, her hopes, her dreams? Or do you just see her stuff?"

I for one tend to have a hard time seeing past people's "stuff." But Jesus never did. That's why he was always hanging out with tax collectors and prostitutes and sinners. Because to him they weren't just tax collectors and prostitutes and sinners. They were more than their labels. They were people.

I pray that I'll be able to see through the eyes of God, past the labels and into the hurts, hopes, and dreams of the people God has placed in my life.

Tickled by the Rain

Tonight I had an urge to sit on my back step, listen to my iPod, and just enjoy some time outdoors with my Creator.

And when I got to my back door, I realized it was raining. And I was disappointed. Here I was looking forward to a beautiful evening with God and it was raining.

But I went outside anyway. And as I sat there in the rain, I remembered this one day at Wheaton 11 years ago:

*not an actual photo. I know you might be misled.

(At the time I was keeping an illustrative journal of what I've come to know as God Sightings.) And on this particular night, I was sitting on the swings outside my dorm, where I liked to go and pray sometimes. And it started to rain that night, too, as I was praying about all my worries about the future. What if I never found a job? What if I couldn't make it as an adult? Would God really bring me a job I would love? What did I even really want to do?

And then God send the rain. The drops were soft and they tickled my face. The rain hadn't bothered me then; I felt like God was reaching down to touch me and tell me that it was going to be okay.

I've been through a lot since that night. Good times, bad times. Times that shook my faith and made me angry with God. Times that strengthened my faith and made me rejoice in God.

So tonight I sat out there in the rain and listened to my iPod, and started to sing along. One of the songs I listened to was Never Once by Matt Redman.

As I sang memories of the past 11 years flashed in my head.

Seeing just how far we've comeKnowing that for every step, you were with us

I thought of God's faithful presence through all those times.

Carried by your constant grace
Held within your perfect peace

That night 11 years ago I was so worried that I'd fail. And I've certainly failed at times.

Knowing every victory was your power in us.

And I've had victories. But through it all, I never walked alone.

Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did you leave us on our own
You are faithful
God you are faithful

God's faithfulness has been the constant in my life through an internship, a first-job-out-of college, moving to a new state, going through a rocky marriage and a subsequent divorce, job changes and job stress, nearly losing my dad, heartache, and joy.

And that ticklish touch of tonight's rain was a wonderful reminder of God's faithful presence in every step of my life since that fretful college prayer in the rain in 2003.

Scripted

I've written before about my realization upon re-reading Psalm 139:16 that God is a better writer than me. But I'm seeing some ways God has helped me grow to more than just head knowledge of that.

There's this scene in the movie Must Love Dogs where John Cusack's character and his buddy are talking about women. And it goes like this.

"I think women have the whole thing planned. Really, the whole thing. An epic narrative in their heads. You know my theory about this? When you meet, they have the whole story written. But you don't get to read it. But if you go off script..."

"...right? They write you out of the story."

I saw that movie years ago and laughed at that dialogue because I recognized it as truth in my life. And I thought about it more recently as I reflected on how God is a better writer than me.

I used to have a script for my whole life. When I'd get married, what kind of job I'd have, when I'd switch to a different job, how each day would go...everything. Every aspect of my life was scripted out in my head, a carefully planned agenda (that never seemed to stay on script anyway). And I would do whatever I could to keep things on script.

And I recently realized it's been a long time since I've had a script. I mean sure, I plan out what I hope to accomplish in a day, but I don't try to foresee every little detail. I have no five-year plan. I have no one-year plan, even. I've always struggled with living in the present until one day I realized I was doing it! God changed me so gradually, so subtly, that I began to write less and less of my life script and leave that to him.

And that has led to a lot more peace and contentment than I ever had when I had a script.

I'm sure I'll face temptation to pick up my scripting pen again at some point (or several). But I hope when that temptation comes, this peace and contentment will help me keep the pen on the table and trust in God.

Out-of-control

On Saturday, March 1st, I went on a police ridealong with Officer Osilka from 6-9 pm. It was relatively uneventful, mostly patrolling. A couple routine traffic stops.

And then just 24 hours later, at around 7:30 pm on March 2nd, Officer Osilka was shot during a routine traffic stop. Just like the ones I'd been on with him.

When I first heard about the shooting, it was unclear if the officer was even alive. And they didn't say who it was. But I knew Osilka was on duty that night, so my first thought went to him. I frantically tried to gather more information, and then I read the words: Officer Osilka. Shot.

By the time the 10:00 news came on they were already reporting the good news that he was expected to survive. And yet that news seemed so vague to me. "Survive" could still mean paralysis, brain damage...or he could be totally fine one day. And what if they were wrong? I did a lot of worrying and praying.

That night I had a choose-your-own-adventure-like series of dreams about the incident. That I was there and hid under the dashboard and he died because of my lack of help. That I was at his funeral. That I was there and gave a perfect description of the shooter, and they were able to catch him because of my witness testimony. That I was there and jumped out of the car and took off my jacket and held it on the wound to stop the bleeding, and saved his life. Pretty much every possible outcome in which I was involved in the situation came to me in my dreams.

And in the days that followed I was a wreck. Now, even though I wasn't actually there, my subconscious had provided me that vivid imagery of the shooting. I was having flashbacks when I hadn't even been there. Because if it had been one night before...I would've been. And would I have been able to do something? Was my lack of presence the reason the suspect(s) were still at large?

I thought back to the things we'd talked about on the ridealong. Had something I said somehow jinxed him? Had I caused this by putting bad thoughts out there? I dealt with so much guilt. I brought him a card and a gift but it just didn't seem like enough.

A counselor helped me see that all my thoughts - the good ones where I imagined myself having been a help in the situation, and the guilt that maybe I'd caused it - all tied back to one thing. It was an out-of-control situation, and my mind was trying to make sense of it by inserting myself into the situation. Good or bad, my mind was trying to put the situation within my control. (No surprise that I have control issues...)

It's been 2 months now since the shooting. I still think about it every time I pass a cop car that has pulled someone over. But the visuals are fading away. I still pray for him often, but now I've refocused my prayers to be more about thankfulness.

You see, at first I was just praying for his recovery, for his family, for the safety of the other officers as they bravely tracked down the perps. And those were important prayers. But a few weeks ago as I drove past the police station for the first time since I'd dropped off his gift the day after the shooting, I prayed a prayer of thanks for everything that had gone right.

Thanks that he survived. Thanks that he was wearing a bullet-proof vest. Thanks that the shooters shot him in the chest where the vest made a difference...not an unprotected place. Thanks that he DID have a ridealong who was far more useful than I would've been...a trained police officer friend from Florida. Thanks that the perps had been caught. Thanks that in the midst of these two evil people who committed this unspeakable act, Loveland was full of good people who'd showered their support on him with cards and concerns. The good people outweighed the bad. Thanks that his experience had given courage to a little girl about to undergo surgery. Thanks that he was going to make a full recovery. Thanks for his courage and integrity as he spoke about returning to the force in an interview I'd read.

Refocusing my prayer helped me see just how much God's hand was in all of this. He didn't stop the bad people from doing bad things...but he protected Osilka and even brought good out of it. And he protected me by not having me be there that day. It helped me to see that this wasn't the out-of-control situation my brain had been processing. Osilka had been in God's hands all along.