The Truth About a Traveler's Life

The life of a vagabond is one of whimsical wandering. A life that many sit in stuffy cubicles and dream to partake in. Rich colors drape their bedrooms and twinkle lights hang from the ceilings. Flowing skirts and leather bracelets array their arms and flow about their tanned skin. A dreamy look is always in their eyes that sparkle with dreams of adventure and far-off places. Pins are posted on Pinterest with the caption of, "Some day, Monte Carlo, some day".  Everyone knows their passion for travel, and everyone supports it (Well, except maybe Mom, who always wants her baby safe at home). And when they finally save up that last penny and post a picture of the tarmac saying, "Hasta lavista, 'merica, Hello Paris!" hundreds of cheers go up and no fewer than 106 likes clicked out of excitement for dreams come true.

But that's not always what the life of a traveler is, is it…
………………………………………………..
No. The life of a traveler is far different from this picturesque concept of "gypsy living". As most other areas of life pictures, sayings, social media, and commercials have given only half of the story when it comes to living overseas- or even short term trips overseas.

A swirl of faces, some stained with dirt and tears, some stained with ruby red lips and purple or blue on their eyes, faces bleached white as a sign of high status. Students hair, a sea of black mingled with white, yet so young. Other children, hair jet black, has been mingled with soot and garbage. This woman is hard-working, tired, age lines her face and her eyes are tired, but the next woman to step onto the bus, clicking 5 inch heels and tight pencil skirt and shirt freshly pressed and accessories only the finest.

Your memories swirl and you see the elderly in a home, gathered around to enjoy the fine arts event you're putting on. Dresses glitter in the evening light and smiles are on all faces.  Puccini floats through the air and fades into O Solo Mio, the evening ends with wrinkled hands embracing soft, young ones. Sad eyes, full of memory glisten as they tell of a memory that went along with the aria you've just sang.

Yet again, you feel as if your head is in a vortex and there you are, sitting on a soccer field in South America, sweaty children all around you, you're wearing a wordless book bracelet and you're eagerly sharing about how Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me." Their eyes are full of anticipation, they listen attentively.

But no, you're not finished yet. The memory of a soccer field reminds you of a park, in your own "home country" This is the land were you came into existence. A park not far from the university you attended and the many homeless you brought food to. Not always food for their stomachs, but always something to chew on. The man who turned away a chance at new life only to be taken away on a stretcher the very next day. The woman who said she desperately wanted out of the life of sleeping with a knife, but couldn't last more than a couple weeks in a halfway house with a job.

You see girls taking you to a field in the middle of nowhere to open a Bible, concealed between textbooks, because if they were to be seen with the treasured pages in public, they could be kicked out of university- or worse. Children with disabilities in orphanages, with fewer hands and hearts to love on them than they should have- but at least it's something, right?

You see, the life of a traveler is full of new adventures, friends and experiences, but it is so full of hurt, fear, and agony.

Sure, we have our whimsical "gypsy" days, but that's not our reality. Our reality is a lot of hard work and a lot of goodbyes. And goodbyes never get easier. Sometimes, you don't even want to say, "Hello" to a new person, because it just means that one day, you'll have to say just one more, "Goodbye".

God has given me a life that I could never have imagined. Sure, I've always known that I would live somewhere overseas, but I never knew what it would take- or where He would move me!

There's something so exciting about going new places and trying new things, there's no denying that. Stepping off the plane or train or boat and taking your first breath of that new city, state, country, or even continent is exhilarating! Your eyes, full of curiosity and wonder as you observe the new cultural differences, colors, customs, foods, and architecture, sparkle. Your heart races as every new experience takes you further out of your comfort zone. You find yourself doing things you never thought someone could pay you to do. You find yourself speaking in languages you never dreamed you'd actually speak (or understand for that matter)! You find that it IS possible to retrain your palate to not reject squishy or unknown textures, you can stomach just about anything! (Well, except stinky tofu…)

But with ever step, a new memory, a new heart string, a new struggle, a new goodbye.

So here I am, sitting on the floor listening to piano ballads, getting ready for another goodbye. (Or whole slew of them, should I say?) I see more than 2,000 students faces all at once. I see a sidewalk, prayed over and committed to kingdom work, on my walk to work. I see a developing city, smog descending and the air thick with damp, musty air. I see more than 40 teachers that I have gotten to work with over the course of 3 1/2 years. I remember tears so many they would take bottles and bottles to contain. I remember words spoken out of frustration and anger that never should have been born. I remember the kind old man who offered me a seat when he saw I was exhausted. I remember the woman, a tooth missing and skin all wrinkled and leathery, that smiled at me that day. I remember the lady at the street food stand who remembers me and tells me she's missed seeing me when I started taking a different route home, or came home late. I remember the man at the little store downstairs who always tried to talk to me (when my Chinese was REALLY bad) and persevered through my confusion and frustration until we could have a conversation. I see young adults and teens with tears in their eyes as they shared their struggles and hurts with me. I remember the hugs I've given and the hugs I have received. I remember so much. Again.

There is so much. So much joy, so much laughter, so many tears, so many lessons, so many people, so much God. So much goodbye. Now is the time of goodbye. I'm so thankful for the time I have been given here in this enchanted land. Not once, or even twice. But three times, He's given me time here. Each time was so different from the former, and special in and of itself.
In the words of John Legend, to my China,

"Cause all of me loves all of you,. I love your curves and your edges, all your perfect imperfections…"

And how true is that. Never a straight line here. Always a curveball, something new, something different. Normal is different. And as hard as days have been here at times, I will always love it. I will always cherish these memories, as many as there are, I can't forget.

And this. This is the life of a traveller. The truth.

But isn't the truth really that we are all travelers? Sure, some of us get cozy where we are and call it, "home", but we're never really home. And that is something that traveling has taught me. This world is not my home, I'm just passing through, and oh how I can't WAIT to be HOME. So I pray will be the case for you. That you will comprehend the fullness of this statement, you are not at home, nor should you feel at home. We are all travelers and we will all spend this life saying, "Goodbye", but one day (and I feel it drawing closer), we will never have to say goodbye- ever again.

"Cause I gave you all of me, and you gave me all of you."

Thank you, Jesus.

What Have I Done?

I'm sitting in bed on this cool, rainy and dismal April evening. It's been raining for two days now, after a week of glorious, sunshiny weather- a gift I think, and so quickly I fall into discouragement. As I prepare to leave this enchanted land, I sit back and muse on all that these last 3 years have held for me (or rather vomited all over me).

I remember coming here with such ideals, such dreams, excitement and ideas of how I would change the world. Yet so often now, I feel like the only thing I've changed is me- I've single-handedly sucked the life, excitement, and zeal right out of my very being.

Sure, I could blame it on something other than me….the trash everywhere, the smells that I don't notice anymore, the woman making a starfruit make noise I didn't know was possible on the seat behind me on the bus, the constant pounding at the construction site across the road from us at all hours of the night making it impossible for me to get sleep between busy days of language study and teaching….The neighbor moving my trash bag that I strategically place by my door to remind me to take it down to the big can downstairs so that I forget it for days (by which time a nice puddle of unknown grossness has since seeped out of what I thought was a sturdy plastic bag), the umpteenth old woman who has pushed me harder than any sports opponent ever did so she could get to one of the 15 open seats on the bus (because you know I was going to lay down and take up 3 seats….) I could blame it on the child suddenly squatting in the middle of the sidewalk pooping, barely missing my flip-flop clad foot. I could blame it on the grocery stores never stocking the same merchandise two months in a row, I could blame it on the rice being coated in plastic, so as to make it look prettier and fluffier in the bowl but causing severe intestinal problems later, I could even blame it on the random water and power outages in my building that last up to 24 hours at a time.  There is so much here that threatens to steal my joy and zeal for life, but the truth is, none of that can really complete the theft. My joy is something I have to give away. It's mine, and no one or thing can ever successfully steal it from me unless I'm already opening my hand and offering it up in a torrent of self-pity and despair….

I lay down and try to close my eyes and sleep. My body is heavy and the pounding has subsided. Gentle Blues play in the background begging me to give in and succumb to a much needed nap, but my eyes disobediently pop open again. Time is passing, the clock won't stop ticking and my hour to nap is now 15 minutes. I try, so hard to turn off the thoughts and go to sleep, but the question slips it's foreboding hand between the closing door and frame and pokes it's haunting head in and asks, "What have you done in these three years? The words come out from the monster's mouth and I try harder to shut them out, voices screaming in the background, "You've failed! You're a failure. Everything you hoped and dreamed for came to nothing, you are nothing."
"Stop! Stop, stop, stop, please stop," I sob back at him.

But really, I wonder as I sit up, even more weary than when I lay down, What was it all for? I can't speak fluent Chinese, I had more friends on my short term trips to China than when I moved here, my body is literally rejecting Chinese food and my organs are shutting down in protest, my patience is shot, and I haven't gotten to share Jesus with anyone in a long time- at least not in the traditional sense of a walk down the Romans road… What was the point? I came to serve and I feel like instead I've been poured out. And then some.  So what's the point? My mind goes to Philipians 2:

12 Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed--not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence--continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, 

13 for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose. 

14 Do everything without complaining or arguing, 

15 so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe 

16 as you hold out the word of life--in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing. 

17 But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. 

18 So you too should be glad and rejoice with me.

That's the point. The working out of our salvation. That and leading others to obedience, and when I'm honest with myself, even in my shortcomings, I know that God- being rich in mercy- has used me countless times to lead others to obedience to Him, and that's what's important. Never with any sort of proof that I ever had anything to do with it, lest I should boast, but a quiet rejoicing at the many who follow Christ more faithfully- as a work of the Spirit.

I have been questioned and put down because I have not been "Spirit-busy" enough these past few years, and this has added fuel to the fire of my own disappointment of not "do-ing enough", but I've learned so much more about "be-ing". So now I boast not in myself, but that Christ lives in me and works in me to do His own good pleasure and now I sit, head- lifted, with the quiet assurance that these years have not been wasted, but have been seed-planting, watering days and the harvest is coming in due season. My heart rejoices.

Maybe you question your purpose or value where you are right now. I would encourage you with Paul's words, and I love how the NIV says it, "…so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life…"

A Gift from My Father

Red Chinese New Year lanterns sway in the wind on naked trees. Once covered in leaves and blossoms, the branches are now decorated by mortal man to symbolize prosperity, blessing, and wealth.

   Seasons change, leaves and blossoms come and go in due time, just as the Father planned it. 

For while blossoms wilt and die, and leaves turn brown and fall off, the soil is rich and the roots pour nutrients to live by into the dry, dismal looking soil.

   Leaves on our most prized plants turn yellow, then brown and we watch on with dismay, feeling hopelessly helpless, yet, has He not promised life?  

Our fears and dismay at the sight of sickness and death blind us

from the promise of a better time. 

For isn't it only natural? 

While, to the naked eye, it looks like the tree has given up life itself,

it's really just biding its time. 

Forsaking daily extravagance, it stockpiles resources so that, at the appropriate time, it might burst forth with life and blossom- shouting messages of life and hope.

   Where is our decoration then? 

The once ornate lanterns look like a gaudy reminder that man's way pales in comparison

of the brilliance of an eternal spring to come.

   Winds may come and blow the lanterns about, but the tree is not uprooted.

   Rains come down and leave a pathetic trail of red dye and soggy paper, melted over silk tassel, but still, the tree remains.

   Are not we, the church, the tree?

Broken Chains

Tonight I watched a movie. Not an uncommon occurrence for me,  though since moving to China I find it much easier to binge on TV shows than sit through one entire movie… My roommate and I went for hot pot this evening and then snuggled down under mountains of blankets to an action movie. Neither of us had ever seen it before, but I wanted something new and she didn’t care what we watched so we popped the disk in and watched.

………………

I don’t think I’d ever recommend the movie to anyone, it wasn’t very good, but I learned a lot from it. First, my freshman History of Civilization class came coursing back to me as I heard my professor’s admonishing of evil promoted in movies. We have learned to hero the evil for the sake of the main character’s well-being. I scoffed a little bit when he said this…while I recognized some truth to what he said, I thought he was way over-doing it. Ironically, it was the first thing I noticed about this movie.

The other thing I noticed about this movie was incredible picture it was to sin. The basic story line of the film was this: A young man tries to deal drugs and the drop goes bad. As a result he ropes his sister’s husband into the “clean-up”. In the process, dozens of people (and inevitably their families) are brought into the situation with many dying. In the end, the young man and his brother-in-law (the hero) become millionaires and the “bad guys” are all either dead or in prison (Real ‘Ocean’s’ stuff here). As I sat and watched, my heart grew sadder and sadder until I felt tears welling in my eyes- not because I was sad for what was occurring in the film, but because of the depravation that was unfolding in front of my eyes.

Sin: it’s a web that draws unending wells of people, families, hearts, and futures into it’s grasp, often promising protection and pay-off, but only ever giving death and heart-ache. No matter what we do, how we sin- whether idolatry, adultery, envy, pride- it ropes those we love most into our web with us. We could never imagine the effects of our sin on those around us. Every choice, decision, compromise we make- it effects countless others with adverse consequences.

My heart ached as I watched the film because I knew that many choose this life style willingly, some choose it unknowingly, but all continue on in it purposefully. That purpose is self-preservation and pleasure. What my heart had not yet ached for was the realization that our “respectable sins” have the same effects on those we love. A harsh word, a defiance to win an argument, fight for self, fight for rights, competitiveness to the point of wounding…you know the list could go on, go ahead, add to it your favorite secret or “respectable” sin. Here, I’ll give you a space: ______________. I’m serious. It’s time to take control for our choices and actions!

I’m so thankful we are not left to our own devices, aren’t you? As I contemplated what I had just witnessed on “the silver screen”, I pressed play on my worship playlist and “Miracle” by Michael W. Smith came on. The lyrics say,

“Impossible

The war was lost

Before Your blood

Before the cross

My shame no more

My curse no more

You made a way, yeah

You made a way

Your miracle is burning bright in me

I was a slave, and now I'm free

I'm lifting high these broken chains

You always find a way

I am a miracle

I am a miracle

Amazing grace

How sweet the sound

I once was lost

                 But now I'm found”

Are there tears in your eyes now too? Praise the Lord for the victory He has approved and made possible with the sacrifice of His Son! Just a couple of weeks ago we celebrated the birth of that One who would sacrifice it all so that we don’t have to live and wound under the bondage of sin. Please don’t continue on in blindness or stubbornness.

This Halloween a couple of friends and I went to the Halloween party on the island. It was my first time and several friend’s told me it was really good last year. Aside from that, a one of my friend’s bands was playing, so why not go and support? There was a man dressed as a devil there. I’m not talking cutesy horns and silk cape with a little make-up on. I’m talking full body make-up to the point he looked like he was smoldering with flames. I’ve learned not to fear the unreal or silly, but there was something about this man that caused my spirit (and the Spirit inside me) to be completely repelled. Not fearful, but the most intense repulsion I have ever felt to anything in my entire life. I think what got me most of this man’s obvious costume was that he was dragging with him heavy chains, lurking about, sneaking up on people and scaring them. The chains have stuck with me since the end of October. I’ve had dreams since then where God revealed chains I was allowing myself to be bound by and breaking them for me.

One of my favorite lines in this song though is this:

“I was a slave, and now I'm free

I'm lifting high these broken chains

You always find a way

I am a miracle”

Wow. Isn’t that what He did for us? He made a way. He made a new life. He made a miracle. Why? Because He’s the God of the impossible. The God of miracles. He makes the lame to walk and the blind to see, He breaks down the high places and He will be exalted where His name is proclaimed!

So proclaim His name in your dorm, your house, your room, your school, your county, your state, your province, your country. Proclaim with me tonight the Name of Jesus, for at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow and every tongue shall proclaim that Jesus is Lord!

“A rebel heart

A restless soul

I lost my sight

I lost control

A cry for hope

Could I be saved

                 You found a way”

“...and these whom He predestined, He also called; and these whom He called, He also justified; and these whom He justified, He also glorified.

      What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? Who will bring a charge against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, yes, rather who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us. Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

Just as it is written,

         “FOR YOUR SAKE WE ARE BEING PUT TO DEATH ALL DAY LONG;WE WERE CONSIDERED AS SHEEP TO BE SLAUGHTERED.”

But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8:30- 36

Shosholoza- "Go Forward, Make way for the Next Man"

"Look in my eyes. Do you hear? Listen to your country.... this is it. This is our destiny!!!!"

I recently watched "Invictus", a compelling movie based on the true recent events encouraging the fall of apartheid in South Africa. Love the movie. However, I got to the scene when the Boks were in playing the AllBlacks for the rugby world cup and heard Francois Pienaar say the words above I was compelled to think of Hebrews 12:1-3. 

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles."

Do you hear them? Are you listening? We have a great cloud of witnesses surrounding us, just as South Africaans surrounded their beloved Springboks back in 1995. I am a very visual person, so when I saw this representation of those looking on with eager expectation, cheering for those fighting for what they believed in I went straight back in my mind to these verses. I don't even think to listen for them- chearing me on, encouraging me not to give up or give in to the agony of the race. It's not an easy path we have chosen or been called to- it's one of self denial and of purpose. Of Truth. Of great importance. As we run, as we fight, we encourage those watching us here to run and fight with us. Alongside us as brothers and sisters. Looking at our Captain. Are you with Him?

I was going through some older musings of mine and stumbled on this one. I was once again spurred on as I hope you will be also.

…………………...

"Shosholoza, Shosholoza Ku lezontaba Stimela siphum' Rhodesia. Shosholoza, Shosholoza Ku lezontaba. Stimela siphum' Rhodesia. Wen' uyabaleka Wen' uyabaleka Ku lezontaba. Stimela siphum' Rhodesia!"

This song, sung by the crowd during the game is significant in that it's a call out for those burdended by the mine work in Zimbabwe- the late Rhodesia. They worked countless hours as slaves in the mines of Zimbabwe and this song was a call to freedom and perserverance. The rough transaltions says, "Move fast on those mountains train from Rhodesia.You are running away on those mountains train from Rhodesia." It was a call for the next man, the next generation. They were moving away from slavery, moving towards freedom. Leaving the old and calling out for the next generation to have a better life than they did. The migrants from Rhodesia sang this as they left their country and migrated to South Africa. They knew it would still be a hard life, but they were willing to fight for it because they knew it was worth it. A life shaped by hardship as a free man was far better than a life of hardship as a slave in a mine.

So we as Christians have a song we sing as we leave our old life of slavery and look forward to the new life of freedom. While we know there will be hardship and trials. We go. We follow. We sing for joy. We know that a life faced with hardship, sadness, discouragement, exhaustion, and sometimes agony is worth it, for we are free from the bondage of sin. We are not alone and hopeless as we once were. We live with the hope that we may,

"Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."

We have a new Leader. One that leads us to unity and victory. Will we fight with and for Him? 

Propaganda and Children

For simplicity sake, when I refer to raising children, I will use the pronouns "we" and "us", mostly because as a teacher, I often refer to my students as "my kids" and take my responsibility very seriously. But for clarification, I am not a parent. :)
_________________________________________________________________________________

"Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

Proverbs 22:6 KJV
…………………………

I grew up in a Christian home. I was taught about Jesus from the time I was conceived until now. I have watched as countless others whom I grew up with, watched, admired, and tried to model made choices that became detrimental to their lives, families, and walks with God. I have often wondered the age old question, "What went wrong?".

When did the change happen? The change that all parents fear and dread- when their child chose not to follow in the ways their parents so attentively taught to them. Didn't God say that if we train up the child, they will never depart? So where is all this departure coming from? This leaves many parents to say, "Well God, I did my part, so where are you? Why aren't you doing yours?" And so sets in a slight hardening of the heart in even the parent.

We have been taught from a young age, 'Obey, and all will be well. You will get the reward, you will be loved, and you will experience great blessing and not the heartache that others face as a result of their disobedience'. It's true, even parents operate by these same rules and systems.

Obedience does one of two things:
1. Breeds frustration because even when rules and systems are obeyed, the obedient one does not receive the recognition they believe due.
2. Begs for action with no heart.

_________________

Follow with me for a moment. I moved to China and have taught in Christian schools, Private schools, and Public schools. The kids are very much all the same and their behavior is very similar in each situation, but the teaching styles and methods are very, very different. I have been open with friends and family about what I teach and subject matter that is taught (or not taught) in each of these school settings. Many heap praise on the content taught in the Christian schools for it's moral/Biblical uprightness, and and even step out to say good words about freedom to teach an assortment of subjects in the Private schools, but when faced with content of Public school, I often listen and watch as faces become contorted and those around me scoff and criticize the blatant "indoctrination" of our youth. I heard these same complaints about Public schools in America and how we are feeding our youth propaganda that will turn our world away from Jesus.

Now, I was homeschooled: Pre-K to 12th grade, I was homeschooled. I was in a Christians school for one day when my parents went to a conference and they let us visit classes for the day. I know that I was not indoctrinated by the evil Public school system, that so many of my peers had to face all alone.  I know many others who have been homeschooled or went to Christian schools that memorized countless Bible verses, learned how to pray right, and were put into Theology classes by the time they were in 8th grade, so I know that they, too, did not experience the lonely indoctrination that our peers in EPS (Evil Public School) faced.  But still, their hearts are far from God.  We're talking MVP's, Christian Character Award winners, Most Humble Student Award winners, A+ Honor roll students. These were good kids!

WHAT HAPPENED??

Even so, I know many others who grew up (some in Christian homes, some not) and went to Public school that love Jesus with the very fiber of their beings. They hunger and thirst after righteousness and seek God withe their whole hearts, and guess what?

They find Him.

These youth were taught from a young age that if you want something, you go for it. If you think there is something better out there for you, you pursue it. If you want to be a Jesus Freak (AKA believe in Jesus, or even just be curious about this Jesus), you would have to sacrifice to even be associated with Him. They were taught from an early age that believing in Jesus might mean that they had to "forsake father, mother, brother, sister", and they did it.

Because they wanted Him.

They had tasted the Water that would quench their thirst and yet make them hunger and thirst all the more after righteousness. They had given up everything that was important to them at school (namely popularity) and had become like an outcast to gain something that would be the most important Thing in all of eternity. They knew what following Jesus was going to cost them and they followed anyway.

Might I be so bold as to say that in our tizzy to make sure that we as parents are getting the good results that we want, we subject our kids to the greatest indoctrination of all time: the Gospel.

We teach our children from the time they are born that Mommy and Daddy love it when they say things like "Jesus" and "Jesus loves me!" and when they pray before meals, or recite the Golden Rule with a smile. We teach them that when they obey first time that we are happy with them. If they read their Bibles every day, we are happy with them. If they go to church and don't fight, we are happy with them.

The focus becomes us, under the guise of Sunday School and Jesus' name. What blasphemy we raise our children in! It's no wonder that they stray from the the heart of the Gospel!
They were never taught the heart of the Gospel!

They have been taught to follow the rules because it makes Mommy and Daddy happy, and really, what 3 year old doesn't want to make Mommy and Daddy happy? In middle school and high school, they follow the rules because it keeps them from being grounded, or diverts the attention while they continue on in their secret life style behind the church on Friday nights.
_____________________

Obedience
Am I saying throw Bible training to the wind? Am I telling you to go enroll your kids in EPS? Am I telling you not to take your kids to church on Sunday?

Not at all.

I'm first asking you to search your own heart and take your eyes off of yourself for a moment. Forget your own parenting skills and trying to make up for your own failures in your children. Perhaps you are looking for worth and affirmation in how your kids "turn out", and nothing could be farther from the truth. At the end of the day, the end of your life, God will not ask you how your kids turned out, but how your heart "turned out". Your kids need your gentle teaching about Jesus, not how to obey. We have all been born with an innate sense of what it means to obey. Kids don't need more of that. They need to know that you care about more than performance and strict adherence to rules. Remember, parenting is not about you as a parent, it's about what you do with what has been given to you! You can't control your child's choices, but you can have a clear conscience before God that you have taught them righteousness, love, holiness, grace, justice, and mercy. What your child chooses to do with that teaching is their choice- and admittedly sometimes a painful one to watch. But where is the sovereignty of God in all this? Can we trust the Holy Spirit to move and guide and change and mold?

Second, I'm humbly and gently encouraging you to take your kids deeper than obedience. Give them a chance to seek God with their whole hearts. Be glad when they choose to go to church or sings about Jesus.

We have GOT to stop raising generation after generation of obedience followers! As children, we were taught to obey, so we did. As parents, we teach to obey, and so our children do- but none of it leads to life and salvation! None of it leads to the abundant life with Jesus!

A form of the word "obey" is mentioned a total of 146 times in the KJV. A form of the word "love" appears 558 times. I think Jesus is more interested in His love for our kids (and I would also say us!) and more interested in our kids' (and again, us!) love for Him, than our kids' obedience.

Wherefore the Lord said, Forasmuch as this people draw nearme with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men:                  Isaiah 29:13 KJV

And again, in Matthew 15 and Mark 7 and John 5, God talks about the folly of one who follows Him with their lips, but their hearts are far from Him.

Please, I beg you. Stop indoctrinating your children and start teaching them about Jesus and that life with Him isn't easy. Teach them that they might lose everything, but that for sure, they must be willing to let it all go- family, routine, job, friends, money, comfort, home.

If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple.   Luke 14:26 KJV

Confessions of a Worshipper, Leader

     It was two years ago, just before the summer began, he came to me. "Jo," he said, "I've been asked to lead the music team from XICF at the Wuhan Summerfest 2012. I'm swamped with work as it is, what with exams coming up an all, so would you mind sort of 'co-leading' with me and picking out the songs and all?" Little did I know that a week or so later, he would once again come to me and suggest that I lead the music at Summerfest, as I had "already picked out the music and knew the theme and all…"
……………………
    It was a brand new experience for me- leading worship. Daunting even, especially when your first time leading music, leading people into the presence of a holy, living God, is in front of a few hundred strangers from around the world with musicians that you hadn't met until the day you were to lead. To be honest, I was terrified. I wasn't even sure that I should be leading worship, being a girl and all… I wasn't sure if it was "allowed" or not.
Somehow, I had a peace and almost excitement about it though, so I proceeded. I still remember the theme of the set, Freedom.

Freedom from sin.
Freedom from human restrictions.
Freedom from gossip and those who seek to tear down and destroy.
Freedom to live.
Freedom to worship.

It was this freedom that spurred me lead with gusto. I wanted every worshipper in that building to grasp the reality of the freedom that has been given to all who claim the name of Jesus and crucify their flesh daily. The set included an invitation to come and drink of His life, to meditate on His faithfulness, and call to worship our great God.
The experience was that like none other. I knew it was right, and I had never felt so filled in my life. Halfway through the time of worship, I heard someone exhorting the congregation and was shocked to find my lips moving, and slowly realizing it was my voice that was used to challenge the people and call them to worship.
I remember, as we were sitting backstage waiting for the invitation, my newfound drummer friend turned to me and said, "I can see how you love to sing. You feel like you can worship best through song and it shows all over you when you lead. It's amazing! It's like that for me when I'm drumming."
…………………..
For some reason, what that Dominican drummer said has stuck with me these last two years. In these two years, I have lead worship on and off at our local fellowship- sometimes steadily on, and sometimes seldom on. It's going on close to a year that I have not been the 'lead worshipper' on the platform. During that year, I took up the position of Worship Coordinator at the fellowship. Ironically, the time I took up the official position was the same time that I felt it necessary that I step back from leading. I continued to participate on teams, but would not put myself on the schedule to lead any teams.
It was under the name of, "I don't feel called to lead teams right now" mixed with a little, "I need to keep coordinating the program and leading separate, I can't do both- it's one or the other", that I quite leading.
During my last year of coordinating, I have felt  frustrated, excited, let down, discouraged and exasperated. That was one reason I decided to take my name of the leader list.

"Leader's don't feel these things."

This is what I would tell myself. They're not allowed to have these feelings. Leaders persevere through the ups and downs and keep everyone else motivated and striving forward. Then it came, all the proof that I needed not to be leading.

"Joanna, to be a leader, you actually have to have people following you."

The words that would come to tear apart my every confidence that I was called to be a leader. I looked around and the lies of the enemy spread to every part of my being. All the hard work that I was putting into the worship program at fellowship seemed to be for naught. Leaders were proceeding as they deemed fit without taking guidelines and suggestions to heart. Instructions from the top, passed down to me to spread throughout the teams was ignored. I felt helpless and… followerless.
……………..
In the meantime, I discovered that I love to worship in music. A fellow worshipper came alongside me to encourage me in the gifts of music and worship that I have been entrusted with and encouraged me to continue on worshipping my Creator and Lover with all the gusto I could give. She also stated matter-of-factly that I have been called to exhort and to continue exhorting as the Spirit lead me to speak.

As I tried to pour my heart out in worship (many times unsuccessfully, what with the whispers in my own head that I wasn't good enough) I found myself distracted by my failure as a leader. I stopped speaking. I found myself distracted by other's lack of leadership. I found myself distracted by people, and as I continued to ponder this growing frustration and discontent, I found my heart of worship getting more and more turned away from my Creator and on to His creation.

Herein was my greatest folly. In this subtle distraction, I began to worry about what instruments the teams were using, what nationalities were participating regularly, what genders were predominately on stage, and how often we were rotating traditional Christian songs or hymns, worship songs written in other country's (other than America or Australia) and new praise songs. I was constantly fielding a flood of complaints by people stating that we sang too many songs in English, there were too many Americans on platform, the leaders were all American. There wasn't enough variety, there was too much variety; music wasn't traditional enough, music was too traditional and didn't give enough room for the Spirit to move. Music time was too long, music time wasn't long enough… I lost my confidence. I was afraid of the outcast I would surely become if I continued to say what I believed I had been given to say. I turned in my notice that I would no longer be the Worship Coordinator. My frustrations, the lies whispered in my ears, and lack of interest from the congregation had quenched my desire to serve, sing, worship, and exhort.

The worship of man and preference reached higher than worship of a living God.
So it is with so many churches across the world. Worship music has been turned into music time to make man feel good about calling himself Christian. Sermons have become speeches filled with apologies and clarifications that we, by no means, want to sound like we are generalizing and condemning people or sin as a whole, but the Bible only talks about extreme cases- our congregations surely don't struggle with the sin of Biblical times. Jesus' love and grace covers every sin in the congregation, so no need to feel uncomfortable during this time of teaching.
And so, the cross behind the pulpit is changed to murals of children's programs, the pastor smiling with his right hand in the air for effect, the music teams- eyes closed and arms raised, the congregation- all smiling- chatting it up in the assembly hall during a church picnic.

And all this. In the house of the living God.

For if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge or the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries. Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you think, will be served by the one who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the convenient by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay.' And again, 'The Lord will judge his people.' it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. 

But recall the former days when, after you were enlightened, you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to reproach and affliction, and sometimes being partners with those so treated…Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised. 

And so my heart smote me. Lord, forgive my distraction and my worship of the god of preference and position.
Don't you see?
The moment we stop to consider how the person will take the message of the living God, is the moment that we fall into the sin of idol worship. I'm not being extreme here- this is Biblical. Who are we to be the respecter of persons? Who are we to turn the house of the Lord into a house of preference, our services into an act of religious dignity, our spirituality into the very Pharisee that we condemn in one breath and copy in the next? We have profaned His name, His house, and His people.

Leaders, join me on my knees- repenting for the way we have lead His people astray in our attempts to make Christianity and church more comfortable and user- friendly! Join me in a movement to call His people back to humble worship of God- eyes on Him, ears tuned only to Him. Join me in calling sin, sin. Join me returning to the God of the Old Testament who lead his people through the wilderness, exile, and the land flowing with milk and honey. The God of the New Testament who not only sent His Son to fulfill prophecy, train up disciples (leaders), give His life and raise it up again that we experience fullness of salvation, but also sent a Helper- to guide us, convict us, and lead us. Join me as we return to the Scripture for our definition of church and leadership. Join me in the Scriptures, before the living God, praying for wisdom and courage and discernment.

Stand up for the living God. Call to remembrance the day when He called your name out of the darkness and brought you into life. Return to the Him, my dear Leader. Return and worship. For it is only when we worship the living God, that we can lead as only He knows how.