Saturday, April 16 11:15 PM
I was fast asleep at this time because I went to bed at 10 pm. Yes, at 10 pm on a Saturday. I am old and tired like that.
In the middle of my REMming, I hear the “mmeeerrr” of the vibrating phone beneath my pillow. When you’re tired, and fast asleep, there’s little to no chance you will think of anyone but yourself. Thus, the phone was silenced. And back to zzz I went.
Sunday, April 17 8:08 AM
I look at my phone and see that it was one of the co-pastors of my church in Berkeley who had called.
“Oh shoot, what a rebel. Rejected the call of a pastor. Oops.”
Staring at the ceiling, still in bed, I call back immediately
“Morning, Vicky”
In my ultra sexy groggy morning voice, I replied, “Hey, sorry I missed your call.”
“Ah no worries, I was just wondering last night if you could lead worship today, but nah, don’t worry about it…”
Fifteen seconds later, I hang up and lay still in bed for another couple of minutes.
He wanted me to…WHAT?! Lead…HHHWAT?!
If you’ve been reading my past posts, God recently led me back to the church I had tried to run away from.
I don’t know how to describe the experience of coming back. It has made me feel wicked small…that’s the least I can say.
Why? Because I left this church for really selfish and sinful reasons. My surface-level b.s. answer was that I wanted to find a church with single working sisters, people like me, in my stage of life.
But, deep, deep, oh deep down, down in my heart, it came down to this: I believed I needed a better church. A church that had a bigger congregation of committed people, perfect ones. A church that had a more “successful” ministry. A church that wasn’t made up of a bunch of weirdos…(Weirdos, you know who you are. I love you guys dearly, but you are so, sooo weird.)
I thought I deserved better. Ministry was easy for me, following God was easy, doing my quiet times was easy. It didn’t make sense to me that it wasn’t “easy” for everyone else. Obviously, I was in the wrong place…right?
I’m usually a pretty disciplined person, but oftentimes this strength has become my greatest weakness. I didn’t have the grace to minister unto others because I was unable to sympathize with people. In my pride, there was no room for love. And so I left quietly and kinda chased after other things for awhile, completely unaware of what God was already doing in my heart. (Read previous blog post for that part of the story)
Pretend you’re a wife who cheated on a really amazing husband, and then you’re coming back to ask to be part of the home again. You would feel terrible and ridiculous for even thinking of coming back, right? This is how I felt walking back into the church three Sunday ago, but I couldn’t help but believe it was where God’s Spirit was leading me.
I came back, really ashamed. I heard the welcomes and the warm greetings of my brothers and sisters, and I was just thinking, “No. No, no. Not me. This is NOT what I deserve. Stop, please.”
The kindness of the family I have in Berkeley has brought me to utter … blah. It’s been overwhelming. You know those cheesy loves songs that sing about how love takes your breath away and all that crap? It’s for reals when people know the love of Christ.
I was expecting people to treat me like the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son, with judgmental looks and interrogative questions. And even though it wouldn’t have been the “gracious” response, it was what I rightfully deserved, and I was ready to take it.
I went back to the church feeling so out of place, so undeserving to be in a home again. It’s been hard for me to even disciple Ashley…she doesn’t know this, but the past couples weeks, I haven’t met up with her regularly, because in many ways, I’m just cringing at the realization of my wretchedness, at just how dirty my heart is and I’m humbled that God would entrust me to lead someone else after I have failed so badly in my own walk.
When I was asked to lead worship on Sunday, I was speechless. Even though there would be no physical way for me to do it anyways, I was still shocked that I would be asked.
Me?! No way, man. After what I did?! I can’t. I’m a sinner. I’m like the worst sinner in this group of people. I cheated on you guys. What LOVE… is this?!?!
I had to learn this the hard way, but I’m thankful I learned it the hard way: Ministry is something WAY undeserved. A privilege. A joy..
For the longest time, I thought of myself worthy to serve. Of course I didn’t say it out loud, but I believed it in the depths of my heart that I was holy enough, talented enough, equipped enough, good-looking enough…to lead people to Jesus.
And yet somehow, with this disgusting attitude in my heart, God still loved me enough to draw me out for 1.5 years and show me that He loves me with a grace that is beyond my comprehension.
He still loved me enough to die on Calvary for me, even when he knew THIS is how I would treat Him and His beloved church.
If the church of Christ can love me this much, how much GREATER the love of my gracious Redeemer!
WOWmazing.
Twas grace that taught my heart…to fear.
And grace, my fears relieved.
The word Hallelujah has a whole new meaning this Easter. This past Sunday I was reminded that Hallelujah is the highest form of praise- a praise that recognizes the gap that was bridged when Jesus died on the cross and came back to life so that God could LIVE in me, despite my own mistakes and wrongs and sins. God is victorious.
…
Hallelujah, baby.
Side Note:
I read this quote by Tim Keller the other day:
“Many Christians (though not all) testify that when they first became aware of their need for God, they went through a time of immaturity in which they became extremely religious. They diligently sought to mend their ways and do religious duties to “clean up their lives.” They made tearful “surrenders” to God at church services. They “gave their lives to Jesus” and “asked him into their hearts.” But so often they were only just resolving to be very good and very religious, hoping this would procure the favor and blessing of God. At this stage they tended to have a lot of emotional ups and downs, feeling good when they made a spiritual commitment and despondent when they failed to keep a promise to God. They felt a great deal of anxiety. They were on their way to discovering God in the gospel, but they were not there yet!”
This quote is why I was inspired to write this blog post.
Growing up in church, no one ever warned me about this whole pit of religious Pharisaic pride that I would fall into. Of course there were the warnings about self righteousness and all, but I had no idea what it looked like because Christians don’t walk around saying that they are prideful and super religious and no one ever shared with me how God redeemed them from their spiritual pride. But I wish they did, or at least someone did. Not that it would’ve kept me from falling, but I think it would’ve been encouraging to know I wasn’t alone in this. If you’re in this pit right now, you’re not alone.
So this my living example of how God still drew me in, just as I was, cocky, religious and so immature. This is the gospel in my life. The work of Christ in a church girl.
I hope you get to see it in yours too. Look for it. It’s there, and it’s amazing.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Majestic Whispers: Another Chapter
Saturday morning in Starbucks.
Usually I would be outside on a long run, but my left foot is killing me and I’m starting to think that sometimes in life, you just have to drink coffee and write instead of running your heart out every single day of your life.
Here is an excerpt from Donald Miller’s Through Painted Deserts (excellent book) that I really liked:
I think I would sum it up this way: life is not a story about me, but it being told to me, and I can be glad of that. I think that is the why of life, and in fact, the why of this ancient faith I am caught up in: to enjoy God. The stars were created to dazzle us, like a love letter; light itself is just a metaphor, something that exists outside of time, made up of what seems like nothing, infinite in its power, something that can be experienced but not understood, like God. Relationships between men and women indicate something of the nature of God— that he is relational, that He feels love and loss. It’s all a metaphor, and the story is about us; it’s about all of us who God made, and God Himself, just enjoying each other.
Life really is a story being told to us. A story about God’s love for silly, silly people. Yesterday, I was talking to my coworker about how I think people are just so silly. We want to be cool, we want to be liked, we want to be righteous, we want to be sexy, we want to be comfortable, but in the end, we’re just so incredibly silly.
It’s pretty neat when you can tell a chapter of your life just ended and a new one is about to begin. Like that time when things start to fall into place, and the eclectic collage of events becomes another small image in an endless mural called God’s glory.
I think I’ve reached the end of a chapter. A chapter called Majestic Whispers.
So when did this chapter begin? Probably back in November 2009, when my burnout from ministry happened. When I was so tired of phony Christians and this whole religion thing and wanted quits. I was desperate for love, for approval from the people in my life. At the root of the issue, I didn't believe that God was the One I wanted to worship. I didn't believe His grace on the cross was sufficient to satisfy my need for love. Jesus seemed more of a burden than a joy, and everything just drove me nuts.
That happened about 1.5 years ago. I stepped out of ministry during winter break and I still remember meeting up with the church leaders over dinner and crying so hard. “I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t.”
I don’t get angry very often. Actually, no, that’s a lie. I do get angry, but I let the anger build up slowly and then SURPRISE, I will blow up in SILENCE and never talk to you again. Note: character issue to work on.
So coming into January 2010: this was what was running through my heart: “God, I know you’re real and I want to believe you are good. But I hate ministry, I hate people, I hate school, I don’t know what to do with my life, and the fact that I have to find a job terrifies me. Can I just move to Boston and start over?”
God heard my cry. I know with all my heart that He did. And even though I deserved to be destroyed by His holy wrath, God decided instead to calm me with His whispers. In my angry silence, Jesus spoke to me, month after month, day after day.
I don’t really know how to give an account of my past year except by listing the times I cried. God works in my heart when I cry. The funny thing is that most of my friends, even my closest girlfriends, have not really seen me cry. But I am such a crybaby, and God knows that, but I think He loves it too.
Hahahaha.
So here it goes, and I’ll write in third person. It helps me put into perspective what God does.
The times when an angry girl named Vicky cried in 2010:
1.Vicky cried when God led her for the first time to Westgate Community Church. She cried because God’s presence was so real and big. And in the weeks to come, she’d continue to cry because God’s grandness was overwhelming. She had forgotten in the midst of “serving” in ministry that her God was this big.
2.Vicky cried she was with her parents on the phone or in person. Her parents helped her out immensely- praying for her, feeding her, listening to her. A lot of healing happened this past year as she became more vulnerable with her parents than ever before. God revealed Himself as healer.
3.Vicky cried when she had to ask her friends to forgive her. She realized that her anger towards many of the people in her life was due to her own pride and ingratitude. Although humbling, she was thankful to be reminded that God is her savior. The apologizing all happened last spring 2010 but God knew she needed at least another year to heal before He would bring her back.
4.Vicky cried when God was so beautiful to her in Emeryville. Do you ever have moments where you just look at something beautiful and start crying? Vicky went on a lot of romantic runs and walks with Jesus, probably hundreds of miles in the past year, and there would be times she would just CRY because God is beautiful.
5.Vicky cried when she felt lonely. Living alone had its joy, but also times of deep emptiness. And attending a huge church alone had its benefits, but in the end became difficult as well. However, in the times of solitude with Jesus, she was reminded that Jesus was her indeed best friend who was with her wherever she went.
Now it’s March, wait April 2011. April...!?!
It probably took quite of few gallons of tears for God to humble her to where she is today, but those gallons of tears all fell into this bucket in her heart that is labeled as "God's love in Vicky's life", and it’s overflowing again with gratitude. Crybaby is overflowing.
End of chapter.
So there it is. A year of God's love in the stillness of quiet tears. Even though I “disappeared” from my church and the lives of a lot of people, God still showed up and did His thing. He doesn’t waste our days, our years, at all. His gentle whispers have said over and over to me: "I love you."
I'm pretty excited for the next chapter. Perhaps excited isn't the word. Because I know I'm going to cry a lot and it's going to be hard, but God will humble me with His love even more.
Usually I would be outside on a long run, but my left foot is killing me and I’m starting to think that sometimes in life, you just have to drink coffee and write instead of running your heart out every single day of your life.
Here is an excerpt from Donald Miller’s Through Painted Deserts (excellent book) that I really liked:
I think I would sum it up this way: life is not a story about me, but it being told to me, and I can be glad of that. I think that is the why of life, and in fact, the why of this ancient faith I am caught up in: to enjoy God. The stars were created to dazzle us, like a love letter; light itself is just a metaphor, something that exists outside of time, made up of what seems like nothing, infinite in its power, something that can be experienced but not understood, like God. Relationships between men and women indicate something of the nature of God— that he is relational, that He feels love and loss. It’s all a metaphor, and the story is about us; it’s about all of us who God made, and God Himself, just enjoying each other.
Life really is a story being told to us. A story about God’s love for silly, silly people. Yesterday, I was talking to my coworker about how I think people are just so silly. We want to be cool, we want to be liked, we want to be righteous, we want to be sexy, we want to be comfortable, but in the end, we’re just so incredibly silly.
It’s pretty neat when you can tell a chapter of your life just ended and a new one is about to begin. Like that time when things start to fall into place, and the eclectic collage of events becomes another small image in an endless mural called God’s glory.
I think I’ve reached the end of a chapter. A chapter called Majestic Whispers.
So when did this chapter begin? Probably back in November 2009, when my burnout from ministry happened. When I was so tired of phony Christians and this whole religion thing and wanted quits. I was desperate for love, for approval from the people in my life. At the root of the issue, I didn't believe that God was the One I wanted to worship. I didn't believe His grace on the cross was sufficient to satisfy my need for love. Jesus seemed more of a burden than a joy, and everything just drove me nuts.
That happened about 1.5 years ago. I stepped out of ministry during winter break and I still remember meeting up with the church leaders over dinner and crying so hard. “I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t.”
I don’t get angry very often. Actually, no, that’s a lie. I do get angry, but I let the anger build up slowly and then SURPRISE, I will blow up in SILENCE and never talk to you again. Note: character issue to work on.
So coming into January 2010: this was what was running through my heart: “God, I know you’re real and I want to believe you are good. But I hate ministry, I hate people, I hate school, I don’t know what to do with my life, and the fact that I have to find a job terrifies me. Can I just move to Boston and start over?”
God heard my cry. I know with all my heart that He did. And even though I deserved to be destroyed by His holy wrath, God decided instead to calm me with His whispers. In my angry silence, Jesus spoke to me, month after month, day after day.
I don’t really know how to give an account of my past year except by listing the times I cried. God works in my heart when I cry. The funny thing is that most of my friends, even my closest girlfriends, have not really seen me cry. But I am such a crybaby, and God knows that, but I think He loves it too.
Hahahaha.
So here it goes, and I’ll write in third person. It helps me put into perspective what God does.
The times when an angry girl named Vicky cried in 2010:
1.Vicky cried when God led her for the first time to Westgate Community Church. She cried because God’s presence was so real and big. And in the weeks to come, she’d continue to cry because God’s grandness was overwhelming. She had forgotten in the midst of “serving” in ministry that her God was this big.
2.Vicky cried she was with her parents on the phone or in person. Her parents helped her out immensely- praying for her, feeding her, listening to her. A lot of healing happened this past year as she became more vulnerable with her parents than ever before. God revealed Himself as healer.
3.Vicky cried when she had to ask her friends to forgive her. She realized that her anger towards many of the people in her life was due to her own pride and ingratitude. Although humbling, she was thankful to be reminded that God is her savior. The apologizing all happened last spring 2010 but God knew she needed at least another year to heal before He would bring her back.
4.Vicky cried when God was so beautiful to her in Emeryville. Do you ever have moments where you just look at something beautiful and start crying? Vicky went on a lot of romantic runs and walks with Jesus, probably hundreds of miles in the past year, and there would be times she would just CRY because God is beautiful.
5.Vicky cried when she felt lonely. Living alone had its joy, but also times of deep emptiness. And attending a huge church alone had its benefits, but in the end became difficult as well. However, in the times of solitude with Jesus, she was reminded that Jesus was her indeed best friend who was with her wherever she went.
Now it’s March, wait April 2011. April...!?!
It probably took quite of few gallons of tears for God to humble her to where she is today, but those gallons of tears all fell into this bucket in her heart that is labeled as "God's love in Vicky's life", and it’s overflowing again with gratitude. Crybaby is overflowing.
End of chapter.
So there it is. A year of God's love in the stillness of quiet tears. Even though I “disappeared” from my church and the lives of a lot of people, God still showed up and did His thing. He doesn’t waste our days, our years, at all. His gentle whispers have said over and over to me: "I love you."
I'm pretty excited for the next chapter. Perhaps excited isn't the word. Because I know I'm going to cry a lot and it's going to be hard, but God will humble me with His love even more.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
The Female Prodigal Jonah
About a year ago and two months ago, Jesus said to me: Feed my lambs
When I heard that, the faces of the girls of my college fellowship flashed through my head, one after the other.
And I FREEEAKed out.
"NO GOD! I DON'T WANT TO LOVE YOUR LAMBS. IT'S TOO HARD. NO WAY, GOD. I'M DONE, SPENT, OUT. NO NO NOOOO!"
And so I left that church, kind of. They have...actually been a bigger part of my life than I had anticipated, but I still left.
This morning, as I was sobbing at the wheel in an empty parking lot, I said: God, I'm so tired.
Jesus said: Feed my lambs
I said: But I'm so lonely.
Jesus said: Tend to my sheep
My response: I can't. I caaaaan't
Jesus said: But I love you.
So here's the end of the story: I think after wandering around for a year and a couple months, the Spirit is leading me back... because His grace is there, and His grace is enough. We'll see how it goes.
I'm like a mix of the prodigal son and Jonah. I ran away from God's calling to love people and then checked out the big sexy churches instead. But you know what's really incredible?
Humble people who are obsessed with the love of Christ.
My brothers and sisters watched me run away and check out other big sexy churches after I basically told them, "Cya later! I'm moving on to something 'better' "... and yet they are also the ones who are welcoming me back, with immense joy.
Forgiven people. There's something about them.
Man, following Christ is pretty crazy stuff. You have no idea how hard I've been trying to run away from certain things. HA. But I seriously feel like I was eating with the pigs and then somehow came to my senses to realize the richness I had left behind.
Yet God is really good. These months of wandering around for a bit was necessary. Stay tuned for the story on that. :)
When I heard that, the faces of the girls of my college fellowship flashed through my head, one after the other.
And I FREEEAKed out.
"NO GOD! I DON'T WANT TO LOVE YOUR LAMBS. IT'S TOO HARD. NO WAY, GOD. I'M DONE, SPENT, OUT. NO NO NOOOO!"
And so I left that church, kind of. They have...actually been a bigger part of my life than I had anticipated, but I still left.
This morning, as I was sobbing at the wheel in an empty parking lot, I said: God, I'm so tired.
Jesus said: Feed my lambs
I said: But I'm so lonely.
Jesus said: Tend to my sheep
My response: I can't. I caaaaan't
Jesus said: But I love you.
So here's the end of the story: I think after wandering around for a year and a couple months, the Spirit is leading me back... because His grace is there, and His grace is enough. We'll see how it goes.
I'm like a mix of the prodigal son and Jonah. I ran away from God's calling to love people and then checked out the big sexy churches instead. But you know what's really incredible?
Humble people who are obsessed with the love of Christ.
My brothers and sisters watched me run away and check out other big sexy churches after I basically told them, "Cya later! I'm moving on to something 'better' "... and yet they are also the ones who are welcoming me back, with immense joy.
Forgiven people. There's something about them.
Man, following Christ is pretty crazy stuff. You have no idea how hard I've been trying to run away from certain things. HA. But I seriously feel like I was eating with the pigs and then somehow came to my senses to realize the richness I had left behind.
Yet God is really good. These months of wandering around for a bit was necessary. Stay tuned for the story on that. :)
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