As of late, God has been giving me so many opportunities (even more so than usual) to love people in the fullest ways He’s called us to, and to rely even more on Him to love beyond what I am humanly capable of. I really hope I can take hold of these situations — both for my own benefit and for the benefit of those I am trying to love.

I hate when the these teams play each other. It seems so trivial, but it makes me so sad. It’s in these hidden ways that I try to prove that I’m still rooting for you. As if your life — physical and spiritual — was contingent on who I crossed my fingers for. It’s so silly.

But I guess when we feel desperation, anguish, a deep need for hope, we tend to cling on to anything we can, even if it is extremely silly.

(Though Who we really ought to be grasping for is anything but a silly notion.)

This seems oh so dramatic.

I’ve always known I was an incredibly selfish, scared, and insecure person. I’m [somewhat] amazed at how I’m still learning that there are even more layers of this selfishness, fearfulness, and insecurity being revealed. Like layers of thin fabric being pulled off.

The beauty of this weekend is that this is the ultimate weekend of forgiveness and grace. They say that suffering leads to perseverance, which leads to character, which brings hope. The hope I have this weekend is for God to renew me and to not only reveal my messy side, but to also reveal who He has created me to be. (Because Lord knows I have yet to reach that destination.)

Last night, there was a discussion among my friends on the scene from the Garden of Gethsemane (which, by the way, my parents just returned from — how awesome is that?). In this part of the Gospel story, Jesus and his disciples have just finished the Last Supper and go to this garden to pray. Well, Jesus goes to pray. He tells the disciples to stay where they are and pray also while he goes on a bit further to be alone and seek God.

Jesus goes about a stone’s throw ahead of them, kneels down, and earnestly speaks to God. I won’t be able to express this adequately, but note that he’s about to be captured, brutally tortured, and hung to die a humiliating and public death, all the while innocent. And he fully knows this is going to happen. And that most of the world will never appreciate the truth behind his death. So, unsurprisingly, he’s in anguish (understatement).

When Jesus returns to the disciples, they’re sleeping. Having gone to many a prayer session at my New York City church, I can attest that this is not an uncommon incident among believers. Jesus then asks them again to stay alert and to pray in order to avoid temptation. He leaves once again, and when he returns, they’re sleeping…again. I’m unsure as to how many times this happens — maybe just twice, perhaps three times. But basically, Jesus is about to die for the salvation of these fools, and they’re snoozing away. (The analogy to our own lives here is not lost on me, don’t worry.)

So one question that arose when discussing this was, what temptation are they supposed to be avoiding? I have several thoughts on this, but we came to an understanding that it was the temptation to sleep — which I felt had a deeper layer to it. After all, sleep is a good thing that God blessed us with (rest, Sabbath day, etc.).

Maybe the disciples had food coma, or maybe it was just really late. But in Luke, it notes that the disciples slept because they were exhausted from sorrow. Initially, I had glazed over that phrase while reading, but someone last night pointed it out specifically. He said that when we feel turmoil or sorrow, we tend to prefer to sleep it away — at least for some of us. The temptation to escape sorrow through sleeping. Or, as this person said, the temptation of choosing numbness as our solution.

It occurred to me then that this was exactly how I operate. I thought about the darker days in my life — those days when I have what I call episodes — and my automatic thought is to lay in bed and never get up again. To sleep or lay in numbness.

It also occurred to me though that in those moments, if and when I choose to even briefly think about God, I can’t just lay there. It is impossible for me to desire numbness while thinking about Jesus. It is even more impossible to remain in numbness or sorrowful sleep when I am actively engaging with Him — as in prayer or worship.

I’m not sure where I am going with this, but I felt the need to record this down. That I am tempted to avoid pain and sorrow by choosing numbness, but that the cure for this numbness and desire for escape is really Jesus.

Obviously, if one doesn’t truly know Jesus then one would not find thinking of him to be very helpful in these moments. But for me, the truth of salvation is very much present in my life, and this mini epiphany about numbing sleep was a great reminder for me of this hope and joy that I have in knowing Him, who brings me every day out of my own darkness.

That is all.

Even though I rarely write anymore, it’s not difficult to see that I’ve been struggling with living an inspired life lately. “Lately” being a very vague timeframe. But for some reason, I feel it again; I feel hungry and excited and restless — all in a renewed way. I think it’s been brewing for some time, and this past week just tipped it over.

This was one of the shortest international trips I’ve ever taken, and it was to two cities I wouldn’t really consider to be life-changing places. I didn’t do anything particularly special — visited some tourist spots, walked through markets, ate really great food, glimpsed into the life of the luxurious — yet something just clicked in my mind. Maybe it was the company that I had. Traveling with inspired people can inspire you, even if you’re just sitting on the metro.

Now I just need to figure out these bits of emotions that are making me itch for something and what to do with them…

Help me to love the unloveable; the poor in spirit, the broken-hearted, the downtrodden, the abandoned. Help me to love.

Sincerely,
Me.

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;
indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord watches over you—
the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;
the Lord will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

“Look at the nations and watch—
      and be utterly amazed.
For I am going to do something in your days
      that you would not believe,
      even if you were told.”

Last night, I had the opportunity to watch Session 3 of Passion 2012, a Christian conference focused on social justice and freedom.

A woman named Christina Caine got on the stage and began to talk about her initial exposure to social injustices — namely genocide and human trafficking — and her experiences since then. Over the course of about 40 minutes, she shared anecdotes from her life that shaped her understanding of what it means to be a Christian in an unjust and broken world. Her driving point was that we weren’t created to live within some kind of “Bless Me Club” with fellow Christians, but rather were saved by grace (Ephesians 2:8-9) so that we could do good and fulfill a purpose beyond ourselves (Ephesians 2:10). Specifically, she added, God intended for “rescued people to rescue people” – those still in captivity, both literally and figuratively.

But a lot of times, in Christian America, we do just sit around in our Bless Me Clubs and forget that we’re not just saved by grace, end of story. Or we push aside the pressing need to make an impact in this world.

“What is it about our temporal world that would take us away from the eternal purpose that God has us here on earth for?”

She shared a number of stories, some of which I may write about later on, but the one I want to retell right now is the one she ended with. Caine travels a lot and is an activist against human trafficking, leaving her with a lot of enemies including Eastern European mafia. People tell her often that she needs to be a more responsible mother and stop bringing such “darkness” upon herself. In response, she commented, “…as if the purpose of life is to arrive at death safely.” I laughed.

“Death is the ultimate statistic, sweetheart – one out of one will die,” she quoted someone.

Her final anecdote began with one of her daughters really wanting a Barbie flashlight. So Caine brought her to Walmart – evidently a big deal in Australia – and found a Barbie flashlight. She put in the batteries so that the girl would play with it right away as Caine paid for the item. The girl turned on the flashlight and, of course, that one light among all the fluorescent lighting in Walmart was ineffective. The little girl wasn’t able to see her own light’s impact because it had none.

“Mommy,” her daughter asked, “Can we please go somewhere with darkness?”

Caine stood on the stage and told the audience, “At 3 years old, my daughter had a realization… Light is most effective in only one place – darkness.”

I’m a metaphor person. I love them, maybe a bit too much, but they help me a lot in my thought processes. As I’m writing this out, I’m thinking we’re a bit like solar lights; we need to charge in the ultimate source of light of course, so being among light is necessary to our growth and carrying out our potential. But ultimately, we’re not made to sit in the sun or other light sources. We need to stop hindering our impact, leave our Bless Me Clubs sometimes, and go find where it’s dark and get our light on.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to do a bit of light-shining in 2012…