Below is the tribute I gave at Mary's funeral service yesterday. I would never wish for that day to come when it did, but am thankful that I got to speak in honor of someone so dear. I'm continuing to pray for those that were present (myself included) that Ecclesiastes 7:1-2 would be true in our hearts and lives in the coming days and weeks; that this day where death has been placed before us, the living would lay it to heart.
To say that it’s difficult to find the words to describe Mary is a harsh understatement. Not because I don’t have enough to say, but because I still can’t wrap my mind around talking about her in the past tense. But, I want to do my best to honor a woman who meant so much to my family and me.
I met Mary in 2002. Brenden was in my nephew Zach’s kindergarten class. Mary and my sister quickly became best friends and along with that, our family quickly inherited a new sister and daughter. She was at all of our family gatherings, birthday parties, and celebrations. It’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t part of our family. I have so many sweet memories with Mary, but hands-down my favorite is when Mary entered our family in a new and even deeper sense—Mary accepted Jesus Christ as her personal Savior and entered the family of God. I still remember the phone call from Wendy, telling me the news. We both cried, screamed, and jumped up and down, rejoicing with all of heaven that we had a new family member. Once she became our sister in Christ, our relationship with her was even sweeter, deeper and more full.
Mary wasted no time in growing deeper in her new relationship with God. I remember so many conversations with her—asking how to read the Bible, how to overcome sin, how to share her faith with those around her, including her husband and kids so that they too could know the hope she had. Once she committed her life to following Jesus Christ, there was no turning back.
Next came the phone call telling us that Butch had surrendered his life to Christ as well. We were stunned at what God was doing in this family’s life and that we got to have a front row seat, watching it all unfold.
To say that it was all just a walk in the park from that point on would be a lie. Butch, Mary and the kids still experienced difficulty and still had struggles. What was different was that all those struggles now had a purpose and Butch and Mary had a solid rock and firm foundation to stand on in the midst of their difficulties.
When Nik was diagnosed with Diabetes, Mary admitted it was difficult, but without hesitation said, “Well, I’ve been praying for a way to get closer to God. This isn’t what I was expecting, but it’s working!”
Next, came the news that none of us were expecting or could have ever been prepared for. I still remember the exact place I was standing when I talked to Butch on the phone as he told me Mary was in the hospital and that the doctors had found a mass in her esophagus. I didn’t know what to do other than sit by her side and cry with her. The day it was confirmed to be cancer, I spent the day sitting next to Mary’s hospital bed, praying with her, crying with her, holding her hand. Mary was in shock, but she hadn’t lost her sense of humor. The Yankees were playing that day and they lost. Without skipping a beat, Mary said with irritation, “The Yankees lost AND I have cancer?! Will this day get any worse?”
That day was just the beginning of a painful journey that Mary and her family had to walk down. I would be lying if I said I never questioned the wisdom of God in the process. Nothing about it seemed fair or that any good could come from all the pain. As I stand here today, I still have unanswered questions and no explanations as to why Mary had to experience what she did, or why her husband and kids have to pick up from here without her. It hurts and is clouded with confusion, fear, and uncertainty.
But, there are a few things that I know to be true regardless of circumstances, and I am clinging to these promises with everything in me:
1) Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever (Hebrews 13:8). Though life has changed completely for Mary’s husband and kids, He has not changed. He is constant and His promises sure.
2) His thoughts and ways are above ours. Isaiah 55:8-9 says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Though we are taken by surprise, He is not. Nothing happens outside His allowing it and even in these painful circumstances, He has a purpose and plan beyond what our limited minds can see or understand. He is still on his throne, reigning over all.
3) The moment Mary left this earth, she saw Jesus face to face. He wiped every tear from her eyes and all earthly pain and suffering was erased. For those who have come to Christ and accepted His forgiveness for sins, this eternal life with Him is a guarantee.
4) Mary has left her kids in the care of their Heavenly Father who loves them more than any of us ever could, even Mary. He has promised that He will never leave or forsake them (Heb. 13:5) and He will meet their every need (Phil. 4:19)
My heart aches and the human part of me would do anything to have her back here. But, I know she’s standing in the presence of her Creator and Savior and wouldn’t want to leave that place of indescribable beauty and perfect peace. Someday, we’ll see her again and worship God with her. But, until then, there are a few things I want to say to those for whom my heart is most burdened.
To Butch: You don’t have to walk this alone. Every person in this room is here as a support and comfort to you and the boys. But, we will fail a time or two and that is why your Heavenly Father is holding your hand every step of the way, upholding you in a way none of us can. Though it seems unbearable at times, He has promised to never give you more than you can handle and will give you supernatural strength when you feel most weak. 2 Corinthians 12:9 says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
To Brenden: I’ve watched you grow from a silly little Kindergartener to a mature young man who loves the Lord. Keep seeking Him, running to Him with your fear and pain and know that you and Nik are just as much nephews to me as Zach. I think God has big plans for your life and I know that the unimaginable hurt you are feeling will not be wasted by Him.
To Nik: I still remember visiting the hospital when you were born and every time I’ve babysat you since. I know you’re experiencing this hurt in a different way, but I’m praying you turn to Jesus to meet your every need, I know that’s what your mom wanted for you more than anything else.
To my sister Wendy: I know you’ve lost a friend in Mary that is irreplaceable. I know your heart breaks as a mother. I know it feels unbearable at times. But, I know our God is big enough to mend your heart in time and I know He will use you to meet needs in the lives of Mary’s kids in ways that no one else can. You have been a faithful and loving friend to Mary since day one. God used you to bring Mary to Jesus Christ. Without your influence in her life, this story would look entirely different.
To my nephew Zach: You have loved Brenden well. You’ve cried with him, laughed with him and stood by his side as he’s faced the most difficult moments of his life. The times I’ve had with you and Brenden in car rides to the hospital are times I will remember forever. Brenden will need your friendship now more than ever and I can’t stop praising God enough for the maturity you both have for your young age.
To the rest of Mary’s friends and family: I know you have all lost someone very dear to your heart, someone whose life changed yours. I know that nothing would make Mary happier than to know that you will be with her again for eternity. It’s never too late to admit your need for the forgiveness of Jesus Christ and surrender your life to Him. Mary’s life was transformed by that forgiveness and yours can be too. Mary will always be missed. But, for those of us who know Christ, we can have full confidence that we will one day see her again.
Every one here today had the privilege of experiencing life with Mary in some way. The pain we’re experiencing is a reminder that this world is not our home, we were created for another, better world, void of pain and suffering. We eagerly await the day that Mary is experiencing as we speak—where we will be free of pain and standing in the presence of our Creator; where every wrong will be made right and the eternal weight of glory will far outweigh the hurt of this world. Until that day, we will cling to Him, praising Him for those he places in our lives who give us a small glimpse of who He is—those like Mary McKarge.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Anchor of the Soul
So, it has been quite a while since I last wrote. My last post was about Mary and this post will be about Mary. So much has happened between now and then, but as I read over my last post, I realize there a few things that haven't changed--namely who God is.
Here's what changed in Mary's life--today she is at UCLA and nobody knows what is going to happen. The cancer has spread, her lung has collapsed, she needs a miracle to survive. Those words hurt to write. I can't believe it's gotten to this point. I'd be lying if I said I haven't ever looked to God and said, "Are you sure? Is this really what's best?" I "know' all the right answers. I know God's ways are higher than our own. I know that we deserve nothing from Him. I know that the sting of death has been taken away in the cross of Jesus Christ and the pinnacle of suffering that He experienced. I know those truths and I believe them with all of my heart. But, it hurts. So much. It hurts seeing Mary in so much pain and discomfort, it hurts seeing her children worried about their Mom and if she'll make it, it hurts to see my sister wondering if she'll lose her best friend. I hurt to see others around me hurting and grieving. It's difficult to trust that having 2 young kids possibly lose their mom is really what is best.
And in the midst of all that pain and fear, I want to make it clear that I do not doubt God and who He is. As crazy as this seems, there's this deep-rooted peace in knowing that this isn't the end. The only hope I can possibly cling to right now is knowing that this life is but a vapor and the afflictions experienced here are momentary; even if it is a lifetime of suffering, it is momentary because heaven awaits. If I didn't have that hope, if I didn't have that assurance for Mary and her kids and her husband and my sister, I would have nothing right now. Yes it still hurts, but it does not defeat. It is still uncomfortable, but it is not unbearable.
In America, it is so easy to be comfortable. It is so easy to pursue a life of ease--as long as everyone is healthy and happy and safe, we are good. We avoid pain and discomfort and sacrifice because it just doesn't feel good. But, that is not the life that Christ has called us to.
2 Corinthians 5:1-2 says, "For we know that if the tent, which is our earthly home, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling."
Sometimes, we don't even groan for heaven; in fact, we groan at the thought of having to leave this earth. If we aren't longing for heaven because we're just fine here on earth, something is wrong. Heaven isn't just the upgraded version of a cozy life here on earth, with even more TV shows and better food and comfortable beds. But, if that is all our pursuit is on this earth, that's what heaven starts to become in our minds. Instead, it's all about worshiping Jesus--both on the earth and in heaven. He's the only reason we have breath in our lungs, the only reason our hearts are beating, the only One who can ultimately and completely satisfy. He's what our hearts were created to long for and adore and delight in. When circumstances around us are uncomfortable, we are forced to come face-to-face with that reality.
Here's what I do know right now--I long for heaven more in the face of difficulty and suffering than I ever could in the midst of comfort and ease. I am reminded of the broken earth that I live on, the frailty of human life, my need for something and Someone greater than myself, my need for a hope to rest in that cannot be hindered by circumstances.
"We who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul." Hebrews 6:18-19
This hope is all that holds me. Nothing else is as sure and steadfast. Without it, I can hope for nothing better than an easy life on earth and when suffering comes into my life or the lives of those around me, I have nothing to cling to. The question then becomes, not "Why does this suffering have to take place?" but instead, "Why would the God of the universe suffer the most agonizing death in all of human history so that I could have this hope? Why would He do that for me, a lowly sinner?"
"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed." 1 Peter 4:12-13
Rejoicing in a hope that is not of this world,
Emily
Here's what changed in Mary's life--today she is at UCLA and nobody knows what is going to happen. The cancer has spread, her lung has collapsed, she needs a miracle to survive. Those words hurt to write. I can't believe it's gotten to this point. I'd be lying if I said I haven't ever looked to God and said, "Are you sure? Is this really what's best?" I "know' all the right answers. I know God's ways are higher than our own. I know that we deserve nothing from Him. I know that the sting of death has been taken away in the cross of Jesus Christ and the pinnacle of suffering that He experienced. I know those truths and I believe them with all of my heart. But, it hurts. So much. It hurts seeing Mary in so much pain and discomfort, it hurts seeing her children worried about their Mom and if she'll make it, it hurts to see my sister wondering if she'll lose her best friend. I hurt to see others around me hurting and grieving. It's difficult to trust that having 2 young kids possibly lose their mom is really what is best.
And in the midst of all that pain and fear, I want to make it clear that I do not doubt God and who He is. As crazy as this seems, there's this deep-rooted peace in knowing that this isn't the end. The only hope I can possibly cling to right now is knowing that this life is but a vapor and the afflictions experienced here are momentary; even if it is a lifetime of suffering, it is momentary because heaven awaits. If I didn't have that hope, if I didn't have that assurance for Mary and her kids and her husband and my sister, I would have nothing right now. Yes it still hurts, but it does not defeat. It is still uncomfortable, but it is not unbearable.
In America, it is so easy to be comfortable. It is so easy to pursue a life of ease--as long as everyone is healthy and happy and safe, we are good. We avoid pain and discomfort and sacrifice because it just doesn't feel good. But, that is not the life that Christ has called us to.
2 Corinthians 5:1-2 says, "For we know that if the tent, which is our earthly home, is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling."
Sometimes, we don't even groan for heaven; in fact, we groan at the thought of having to leave this earth. If we aren't longing for heaven because we're just fine here on earth, something is wrong. Heaven isn't just the upgraded version of a cozy life here on earth, with even more TV shows and better food and comfortable beds. But, if that is all our pursuit is on this earth, that's what heaven starts to become in our minds. Instead, it's all about worshiping Jesus--both on the earth and in heaven. He's the only reason we have breath in our lungs, the only reason our hearts are beating, the only One who can ultimately and completely satisfy. He's what our hearts were created to long for and adore and delight in. When circumstances around us are uncomfortable, we are forced to come face-to-face with that reality.
Here's what I do know right now--I long for heaven more in the face of difficulty and suffering than I ever could in the midst of comfort and ease. I am reminded of the broken earth that I live on, the frailty of human life, my need for something and Someone greater than myself, my need for a hope to rest in that cannot be hindered by circumstances.
"We who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul." Hebrews 6:18-19
This hope is all that holds me. Nothing else is as sure and steadfast. Without it, I can hope for nothing better than an easy life on earth and when suffering comes into my life or the lives of those around me, I have nothing to cling to. The question then becomes, not "Why does this suffering have to take place?" but instead, "Why would the God of the universe suffer the most agonizing death in all of human history so that I could have this hope? Why would He do that for me, a lowly sinner?"
"Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed." 1 Peter 4:12-13
Rejoicing in a hope that is not of this world,
Emily
Monday, November 1, 2010
Lessons Learned Sitting by my Friend's Hospital Bed
Today after work I had the unique and awesome opportunity to drive my 13-year-old nephew and his best friend down to Santa Monica to see his friend's mom who was diagnosed with cancer 2 weeks ago. I can't even begin to tell you how blessed I was to hang out with two 13-year-old boys. They were hilarious, extremely kind and respectful, and above all love Jesus so so much. They stand out far above any other Junior High boy I have ever met. How low of a standard we've set for boys in calling a stage of life "adolescence" and expecting little to nothing more than dirty talk among them. These guys are genuine and real and living for Christ and thinking deeply. And they are 13.
When we got down to the hospital to see my dear, sweet friend Mary who is like a sister to me, and a daughter to my parents, it hit me. These kids were experiencing life-shattering circumstances in their young lives; Situations that were causing them to turn to Jesus Christ as their Rock and Refuge and Hope. Man, how that radiated out of them. I sat on Mary's bed and we caught up on life while the boys sat in the corner and did their homework. Suddenly, this had become everyday life for them. 2 weeks ago, this was unthinkable; now, there's no other option. I watched as they joked around together, laughed, helped each other with homework--they were living. I really believe that without Jesus Christ, the story of Mary and her family today would look much different. It would be void of hope and joy and a reason to keep going. Because of Him, they have a story that has eternal implications. I've already seen how everything that has happened in Mary's life has sprung up changes that never would have come without it. Of course, I would NEVER wish that this would be God's way of bringing the changes needed. But, this is the way He has wisely and lovingly chosen and because of that, I have confidence that He is accomplishing things through it that are far above all that we could ever ask or imagine.
In the last few weeks, I've spent more time next to the hospital bed of a friend than I would ever desire or imagine even 2 weeks ago. But, God is good to have already begun to teach me through those times:
1) That He is wise in ways that are far beyond my understanding or comprehension. When I first heard about Mary, the best word I could use to describe the situation was "crazy"--foolish, unwise, a mistake, even wrong. But, from where I sit today, with looming unanswered questions and fears and worries, I can still say He is wise and loving in all He does. His wisdom and love have been seen by Mary and her family and the people around her in ways we couldn't see any other way.
2) That He is compassionate and merciful. One of my favorite verses, because of it's irony and baffling reasoning is James 5:11. "You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful." The first time I read that verse, I had to read it a few times and then I thought that perhaps the translation made a mistake, or that James did a typo when he was writing. Compassionate and merciful? I don't know about you, but when I think of the story of Job, compassionate and merciful are not the first two adjectives that come to mind when I think of how God worked in Job's life. But as I have dealt with suffering in my own life and have seen it in the lives of those around me, I see the veracity in it. In the midst of suffering the compassion and mercy of God is seen in more powerful ways than ever imagined before. In Mary's life, I've seen it when He brings the right doctor at just the right time, or the fact that His hand stopped the cancer in its tracks so that it didn't poison her entire body, or the things its doing in the lives of her family and friends in advancing the gospel the way it couldn't advance without suffering. The Lord is compassionate and merciful, especially in the midst of suffering.
3) I am a moment, He is forever. I feel like recognizing and living in the brevity of my life is something that I won't ever fully understand. We as humans have this mindset that we are invincible and that 80 or 90 years (if we make it that long) is like an eternity. We "live it up" and don't think about the fact that this life has been given to us by a Creator who sustains our every breath and heartbeat and that He could stop that heart from beating at any time. Psalm 103 is by far one of my favorite Psalms. One of the reasons is because it so powerfully illustrates the frailty of humanity and the infinite and eternal nature of God. His throne is established, He reigns over all, He has no beginning and no end. I am created, I am finite, I have a definite beginning and a definite end and then I am no more and only what I've done for this eternal and reigning God matters in the end. Mary's entire life changed literally in the blink of an eye. How foolish, how prideful for me to think my life is my own to live and to waste it on meaningless things. How am I living for the eternal today?
I am thankful for what God has done already in and through Mary and her story. If we had to take it all back and get Mary back to healthy and never let cancer take over her body, we would in an instant. I would beg for God to choose any other way to teach us these lessons. But, I trust Him. Mary trusts Him. And we continue to look to the Author of our lives and trust in His plan.
When we got down to the hospital to see my dear, sweet friend Mary who is like a sister to me, and a daughter to my parents, it hit me. These kids were experiencing life-shattering circumstances in their young lives; Situations that were causing them to turn to Jesus Christ as their Rock and Refuge and Hope. Man, how that radiated out of them. I sat on Mary's bed and we caught up on life while the boys sat in the corner and did their homework. Suddenly, this had become everyday life for them. 2 weeks ago, this was unthinkable; now, there's no other option. I watched as they joked around together, laughed, helped each other with homework--they were living. I really believe that without Jesus Christ, the story of Mary and her family today would look much different. It would be void of hope and joy and a reason to keep going. Because of Him, they have a story that has eternal implications. I've already seen how everything that has happened in Mary's life has sprung up changes that never would have come without it. Of course, I would NEVER wish that this would be God's way of bringing the changes needed. But, this is the way He has wisely and lovingly chosen and because of that, I have confidence that He is accomplishing things through it that are far above all that we could ever ask or imagine.
In the last few weeks, I've spent more time next to the hospital bed of a friend than I would ever desire or imagine even 2 weeks ago. But, God is good to have already begun to teach me through those times:
1) That He is wise in ways that are far beyond my understanding or comprehension. When I first heard about Mary, the best word I could use to describe the situation was "crazy"--foolish, unwise, a mistake, even wrong. But, from where I sit today, with looming unanswered questions and fears and worries, I can still say He is wise and loving in all He does. His wisdom and love have been seen by Mary and her family and the people around her in ways we couldn't see any other way.
2) That He is compassionate and merciful. One of my favorite verses, because of it's irony and baffling reasoning is James 5:11. "You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful." The first time I read that verse, I had to read it a few times and then I thought that perhaps the translation made a mistake, or that James did a typo when he was writing. Compassionate and merciful? I don't know about you, but when I think of the story of Job, compassionate and merciful are not the first two adjectives that come to mind when I think of how God worked in Job's life. But as I have dealt with suffering in my own life and have seen it in the lives of those around me, I see the veracity in it. In the midst of suffering the compassion and mercy of God is seen in more powerful ways than ever imagined before. In Mary's life, I've seen it when He brings the right doctor at just the right time, or the fact that His hand stopped the cancer in its tracks so that it didn't poison her entire body, or the things its doing in the lives of her family and friends in advancing the gospel the way it couldn't advance without suffering. The Lord is compassionate and merciful, especially in the midst of suffering.
3) I am a moment, He is forever. I feel like recognizing and living in the brevity of my life is something that I won't ever fully understand. We as humans have this mindset that we are invincible and that 80 or 90 years (if we make it that long) is like an eternity. We "live it up" and don't think about the fact that this life has been given to us by a Creator who sustains our every breath and heartbeat and that He could stop that heart from beating at any time. Psalm 103 is by far one of my favorite Psalms. One of the reasons is because it so powerfully illustrates the frailty of humanity and the infinite and eternal nature of God. His throne is established, He reigns over all, He has no beginning and no end. I am created, I am finite, I have a definite beginning and a definite end and then I am no more and only what I've done for this eternal and reigning God matters in the end. Mary's entire life changed literally in the blink of an eye. How foolish, how prideful for me to think my life is my own to live and to waste it on meaningless things. How am I living for the eternal today?
I am thankful for what God has done already in and through Mary and her story. If we had to take it all back and get Mary back to healthy and never let cancer take over her body, we would in an instant. I would beg for God to choose any other way to teach us these lessons. But, I trust Him. Mary trusts Him. And we continue to look to the Author of our lives and trust in His plan.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
No Greater Joy
My first trip to Czech in 2006, I met Mishka. She is a Czech girl who has grown up in Germany. She speaks more languages than I can pronounce and she's only 17. At the time, she was 13 years old. We were in the same room at camp and I can't stop thanking God that He allowed us to be together because in that room together, both my life and hers were changed.
The last night of camp is called "Gospel Night." It's the wrap-up to whatever the theme of the week has been and in it, the students hear a very clear presentation of the Good News. Afterward, the campers are encouraged to talk with someone or to think through the things they have heard and seen. Mishka and I, kind of by accident, ran into each other in the hall and went to go talk. I don't remember much of what we talked about, but I know that it was a conversation that changed everything. That night, Mishka entered the family of God.
Since that day, I have watched Mish grow and be challenged, struggle and be encouraged, pray and seek God diligently. I've never met someone who so deeply wants to know God and walk closely with Him. She's never satisfied with where she's at in her walk with Him; she always wants more of Him.
I remember when she told me of her dream to be involved with worship. She felt that God had placed this desire in her heart to be used by Him through music. But, she didn't feel that she had the ability to do so. But, her guitar skills continually improved and her heart for Him deepened. And, here is a video of Mishka recently. I was overwhelmed with joy and thankfulness as I watched this video and saw who God has grown Mishka into.
God has gifted Mishka in so many ways, her musical talent is just one of His evidences of his grace in her life. Right now, she is in Czech serving the people there in a myriad of ways. I am so proud of the young woman she has become. I so resonate with John's words in 3 John 4 " I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." God has allowed me to see Mishka grow up spiritually from day one until now and I am so thankful for that. She continues to walk in the truth and to bring a smile to His face and to mine. I love you, Mish!
The last night of camp is called "Gospel Night." It's the wrap-up to whatever the theme of the week has been and in it, the students hear a very clear presentation of the Good News. Afterward, the campers are encouraged to talk with someone or to think through the things they have heard and seen. Mishka and I, kind of by accident, ran into each other in the hall and went to go talk. I don't remember much of what we talked about, but I know that it was a conversation that changed everything. That night, Mishka entered the family of God.
Since that day, I have watched Mish grow and be challenged, struggle and be encouraged, pray and seek God diligently. I've never met someone who so deeply wants to know God and walk closely with Him. She's never satisfied with where she's at in her walk with Him; she always wants more of Him.
I remember when she told me of her dream to be involved with worship. She felt that God had placed this desire in her heart to be used by Him through music. But, she didn't feel that she had the ability to do so. But, her guitar skills continually improved and her heart for Him deepened. And, here is a video of Mishka recently. I was overwhelmed with joy and thankfulness as I watched this video and saw who God has grown Mishka into.
God has gifted Mishka in so many ways, her musical talent is just one of His evidences of his grace in her life. Right now, she is in Czech serving the people there in a myriad of ways. I am so proud of the young woman she has become. I so resonate with John's words in 3 John 4 " I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth." God has allowed me to see Mishka grow up spiritually from day one until now and I am so thankful for that. She continues to walk in the truth and to bring a smile to His face and to mine. I love you, Mish!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Knowing Him
I'm constantly amazed at how often I need to be reminded of the absolute basics of living for Christ. Yes, there are deeper truths that the Holy Spirit reveals to us as our journey with Him continues, but there is also this ongoing need for us to be grounded in the basics.
This weekend I was at a great little conference held at the US Center for World Missions for those who are looking to go out on the mission field in the near future. We had great speakers, great conversations, made great connections and were able to network people and resources. But by about day 3, I was a bit overwhelmed talking about strategy and vision and methodology for mission. I felt like my brain was swimming and I was desperately trying to sort through it all.
And then, the speaker for that night got up and was supposed to address the issue of what Western Missionaries need to do prepare to go on the mission field. His response, in an hour-long sermon?
The disentangled Christ.
Suddenly it all clicked--strategy and vision and methodology are all good things to think about and discuss. But, often Jesus gets tangled up in all of those things and suddenly, the very One we're trying to bring to the nations is wrapped up in all of these relative things. But, Jesus is the only Absolute. I can prepare for 10 years to go on the mission field, but if I am not seeking to know Jesus intimately, I have nothing to bring with me. I don't want to be known for the program I'm trying to push or the great strategy I've thought of--I want to be known as one who knows and loves Jesus Christ.
It brought me back to the question that had been tormenting me--what is the biblical method for missions? There are so many methods out there, but I just want to be faithful to what God wants. But, I was brought to Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 2:1-2 :
This weekend I was at a great little conference held at the US Center for World Missions for those who are looking to go out on the mission field in the near future. We had great speakers, great conversations, made great connections and were able to network people and resources. But by about day 3, I was a bit overwhelmed talking about strategy and vision and methodology for mission. I felt like my brain was swimming and I was desperately trying to sort through it all.
And then, the speaker for that night got up and was supposed to address the issue of what Western Missionaries need to do prepare to go on the mission field. His response, in an hour-long sermon?
The disentangled Christ.
Suddenly it all clicked--strategy and vision and methodology are all good things to think about and discuss. But, often Jesus gets tangled up in all of those things and suddenly, the very One we're trying to bring to the nations is wrapped up in all of these relative things. But, Jesus is the only Absolute. I can prepare for 10 years to go on the mission field, but if I am not seeking to know Jesus intimately, I have nothing to bring with me. I don't want to be known for the program I'm trying to push or the great strategy I've thought of--I want to be known as one who knows and loves Jesus Christ.
It brought me back to the question that had been tormenting me--what is the biblical method for missions? There are so many methods out there, but I just want to be faithful to what God wants. But, I was brought to Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 2:1-2 :
And when I came to you, bretheren, I did not come with superiority
of speech or of wisdom, proclaiming to you the testimony of God.
For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.
Paul's greatest concern wasn't a method or a strategy, because he knew those things could change and, most likely, would change. But, the one thing he did seek--Jesus Christ and Him crucified.
He wanted to know the complete covering of Jesus' blood for him and for those to whom he was preaching.
He wanted to know the power of the resurrection, that conquered sin and death and gave him something to tell people and gave him the enabling power to tell them.
I believe that God gives us creativity and grace to think and plan and prepare for strategically extending the reach of the gospel to the ends of the earth. He doesn't just lay out a "method" because He's created us to function and be effective in a variety of ways--ways that reflect His creativity and ingenuity and His ability to pierce dark places with the light of the gospel in endless ways.
I came back to Jesus' warning in Matthew 7:21-23
Not everyone who says to Me, "Lord, Lord," will enter the kingdom of heaven,
but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter.
Many will say to me on that day, "Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name,
and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?"
And then I will declare to them, "I never knew you; Depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness.
Wow...this verse just pierces my heart every time I read it. I can't imagine coming before the Lord one day, claiming all the good "things" I've done in His name and yet having him look me in the eyes and tell me, "Emily, you may have done amazing things, but none of them mattered because you didn't know Me."
So, that's where I sit today. I just want to know Him. Because, unless I've sought to know Him and unless everything else in my life flows out of a love for Him, none of it matters. HE is what I am bringing to the nations; not a method or a ground-breaking strategy.
Lord, help me to know You--intimately, completely, purely. Help me to know the Jesus at the cross and all that it implies. Help me to walk into the empty tomb with your disciples and walk out in the power of your resurrection.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Bought with a Price
I have a confession to make, one that may come as a shock to some of you, seeing the adventure I've been on lately. Ready for it? ... I MISS CZECH. So much it really truly hurts. The team from my church just got back from serving in Czech and doing English camp with my beloved Cheb brothers and sisters. It's amazing how much God can grow your heart to love a country and the people in that country in such a short amount of time. The first time I ever even heard about Czech Republic was when my brother went in 2005. In 2006, I went and I have never been the same since. It ruined me in the best way possible. I couldn't bear to look at the world in the same way. It no longer became political lines and a painful reminder of Junior High geography class. The world became a place that desperately needs the good news of Jesus Christ, a huge globe filled with beautiful reminders of the creativity of God in every language and culture and face. And that was just the first trip.
Next was the feeling that this foreign country with a crazy language and weird Easter traditions was like home to me. I didn't want to leave, and when I did I couldn't wait to go back. I could no longer walk through any public place without stalking someone who seemed to be speaking any sort of a Slavic language, hoping that it happened to be Czech and I could tell them how much I loved their country. And then the confusion of where I belonged in this huge world. And the painful yet hopeful reminder that I don't--anywhere. That the One who is holding all these countries and people in his hand has created me for another world.
Then there was living in a new country, yet the one that had become so familiar to me. There was trekking through snow and missing trains and always feeling a little out of place and confused; there was lives being transformed by the power of the gospel for the very first time, and lives that were being refined by that same power in new ways; calling people "mom" and "dad' that I had known only a few years, but being so loved and cared for by them that I had no other name to refer to them by.
Then there was the part I wasn't expecting or ready for in the least bit--letting go of all of those things: the comfort level I felt in a foreign place, the people that had become so much more than just a picture on a postcard or a statistic, and every conversation and memory I had with them--and I wasn't quite sure what letting go meant. There was the realization that all of the things that I had prayed for and desired for the beautiful people I love so deeply were happening--growth was happening, believers felt the burden to reach their own people, discipleship continued, God was purifying His Church there. Along with it came the pride that didn't want to admit that God was doing all of it without me.
But, I felt like Abraham--is He just asking me to let go to test me and see if I'll obey? Or is he, like Abraham, asking me to give it all up and follow Him to a land I don't know?
Well, though God has continued to direct me to other places, I don't like to look at it as "letting go" of all of those things, because that implies a sense of loss. I haven't "lost" those things--they are irreplaceable. The lessons that I learned in Czech will be with me for the rest of my life and can never be forgotten. The people that I have walked alongside of since my first summer there are people I will never forget. They changed my life, just by watching theirs.
It's hard for me to believe that it's possible for me to ever love a country and a group of people as much as I love Czech Republic and the people there. But, I know that God is capable of doing that. He's the One that enabled me to love the people of Czech. But, even if that deep sense of love and affection never comes, He brings me back to this simple realization: He has not called me to a place; He has called me to Himself. That never changes. But, with that calling comes this truth: "You are not your own, for you were bought with a price." (1 Corinthians 6:19) I am His, I have been bought with His blood, and that means that I follow Him wherever He leads--even if it's away from where I so badly want to be.
Next was the feeling that this foreign country with a crazy language and weird Easter traditions was like home to me. I didn't want to leave, and when I did I couldn't wait to go back. I could no longer walk through any public place without stalking someone who seemed to be speaking any sort of a Slavic language, hoping that it happened to be Czech and I could tell them how much I loved their country. And then the confusion of where I belonged in this huge world. And the painful yet hopeful reminder that I don't--anywhere. That the One who is holding all these countries and people in his hand has created me for another world.
Then there was living in a new country, yet the one that had become so familiar to me. There was trekking through snow and missing trains and always feeling a little out of place and confused; there was lives being transformed by the power of the gospel for the very first time, and lives that were being refined by that same power in new ways; calling people "mom" and "dad' that I had known only a few years, but being so loved and cared for by them that I had no other name to refer to them by.
Then there was the part I wasn't expecting or ready for in the least bit--letting go of all of those things: the comfort level I felt in a foreign place, the people that had become so much more than just a picture on a postcard or a statistic, and every conversation and memory I had with them--and I wasn't quite sure what letting go meant. There was the realization that all of the things that I had prayed for and desired for the beautiful people I love so deeply were happening--growth was happening, believers felt the burden to reach their own people, discipleship continued, God was purifying His Church there. Along with it came the pride that didn't want to admit that God was doing all of it without me.
But, I felt like Abraham--is He just asking me to let go to test me and see if I'll obey? Or is he, like Abraham, asking me to give it all up and follow Him to a land I don't know?
Well, though God has continued to direct me to other places, I don't like to look at it as "letting go" of all of those things, because that implies a sense of loss. I haven't "lost" those things--they are irreplaceable. The lessons that I learned in Czech will be with me for the rest of my life and can never be forgotten. The people that I have walked alongside of since my first summer there are people I will never forget. They changed my life, just by watching theirs.
It's hard for me to believe that it's possible for me to ever love a country and a group of people as much as I love Czech Republic and the people there. But, I know that God is capable of doing that. He's the One that enabled me to love the people of Czech. But, even if that deep sense of love and affection never comes, He brings me back to this simple realization: He has not called me to a place; He has called me to Himself. That never changes. But, with that calling comes this truth: "You are not your own, for you were bought with a price." (1 Corinthians 6:19) I am His, I have been bought with His blood, and that means that I follow Him wherever He leads--even if it's away from where I so badly want to be.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Beautiful Feet
“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news…” Isaiah 52:7
This verse has always been somewhat entertaining for me; one, because I really don’t like feet and to call them beautiful is out of my realm. But, more importantly, when I think about the feet of those who bring good news to people, the last thing I would think to call them is beautiful. Dirty, rugged, tired, worn—that’s more what I picture. And the past 6 weeks I finally understood how this paradox could be—and is—absolutely true.
I visited 3 countries in Central Asia and walked rugged dirt roads along which millions and millions of people are lying in Spiritual darkness and are perishing without ever hearing the Good News about Jesus Christ. At the end of the day my feet were dirty and tired—anything but beautiful. They were far from having a fresh pedicure, which is what most would define as beautiful feet, especially in the US. And yet, there was something beautiful about it. Those dirty feet had walked among some of the poorest people in the world who still had smiles that showed all their missing teeth. Those feet were tired because they had been walking for countless hours on rocky, dirt paths visiting people who desperately needed to know that Someone cared for them, especially enough to come and visit.
It became more and more clear that the way the feet looked had nothing to do with their beauty; it was where those feet had walked that made them beautiful. More and more, I longed to have beautiful feet—feet that walk where very few before have walked so that Good News may be brought to those that are lost in darkness. Though my feet will look more and more worn and feel increasingly fatigued, there is a simple and profound beauty to feet that bring good news to places it has not yet gone.
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