That Old Clunker Always Was Faithful

It's so easy to see the negative, where our own misperceptions make us believe God fell short or that he somehow forgot us or left us stranded somewhere.

I can almost hear some Christians gasping at the statement I just made, as if they've never had moments of doubting God's faithfulness.

The truth is, if we're honest with ourselves, we all have moments where we doubt God is going to pull through, or that he can handle our situation, or sometimes, even whether or not he exists at all.  I don't care who you are. There are always going to be moments that challenge us and force us to choose whether or not we trust God is going to show up before we shut down.

You probably had one today, didn't you?

My sister drives this late-90s red Dodge Neon, and she's had it forever.  She's not having any troubles with it right now, praise God, but it's a miracle she isn't.  I swear, that car is falling apart in so many ways, I can hardly believe it's still running.

The automatic door locks growl every time she unlocks the car--I don't think she can even use the unlock button anymore without the solenoids in each door screeching until she turns the car off. Frankly, I'm not even sure if that's the current state of the unlock button; for all I know, the problem could've gotten worse since I noticed it.

Heck, her car leaks oil, and according to a mechanic friend of ours, she's got lots of tiny leaks all over the place.  Although she had an oil change recently (which incidentally caused another leak that our mechanic friend had to "bless"), I'm pretty sure at least once in the car's lifetime, it's gone a year of driving past when she'd actually needed an oil change.  I'm not blaming my sister because she actually does try to do the upkeep on her car, more than almost any woman would normally, but I am commenting on the incredible fact the car is still running.

It's even more amazing when you realize the college she went to was about fifty-six miles away, she came home every weekend for work, and on multiple occasions, she would make the entire trip and realize upon arriving or returning she forgot her uniform in her dorm or her art project at home and then make the trip twice more in the course of a few hours.  Moreover, she is prone to impromptu road trips to Northern Virginia, between four and six hours away; mostly, she would pick up a friend she knew in high school who has since moved away, come back home with the friend, and three days later make the trek again. I feel like this happens at least once a month, sometimes more frequently depending on work schedules.

With what little I understand about the inner workings of a car, I recognize her car probably shouldn't be driving as well as it seems to be.

That being said, if I were in her place, I could see myself grumbling about the noisy locks or the masking tape holding the ceiling fabric up, or even about the difficulty in removing the oil nut when it's time to change the oil. The car isn't the greatest on gas, although it's not the worst either, but still, it could be better considering how small the car is. It has had problems before, like when it needed tires so bad it failed inspection or the time it left her stranded on the side of the road at one in the morning.  There's certainly a lot to be dissatisfied with, compared to any newer car on the road.

But the car is faithful. Somehow, it's always gotten her where she needed to go, and she's still driving it to this day.  She's at work right now, and it's sitting in the parking lot waiting for her shift to end.  Even if it doesn't make sense, the car is still reliable, meeting her needs, and going with her on her journey.

I see God's work in that. In fact, I see God's work in all sorts of mundane things.  I cannot tell you how many times I see God has provided for, sustained, protected, comforted, guided, or blessed somebody--anybody--myself included--and they responded by complaining.  It actually makes me angry to see it.

Recently, a very wise redhead I know spotted me complaining and feeling down when I had no reason to other than that I had lost sight of the big picture and felt God was putting me in a place where I worried about how much I had to trust him. She told me to look back at all the times God had been faithful, and it was exactly what I needed to hear and exactly what I needed to do.

I don't remember the context, but a day or two later, a girl from my small group repeated the message from God as she drove us to the bible study.

Though I walk in the midst of trouble, it is the Lord who preserves my life. The moment I start remembering the prayers he's answered, the promises he's fulfilled, the love he's bestowed on my life, I wonder why I ever got so low in the first place.  With a God like ours, I can rest assured that the Lord will fulfill his purpose for me and he will not forsake the work of his hands. 

Thinking back on what I wrote at the beginning of this post, perhaps the Christians that would have gasped at the doubt I was showing weren't gasping because I doubted, but maybe it's because they see the big man upstairs is nothing if not faithful.

I know that's what I did when I rediscovered how faithful God has been in my life.

My need for community

Let me humble myself here before I say anything else. I know myself. I need community, and I need it bad. Without it, I get irritable, judgmental, clouded. I'm desperate to get out of my bubble and love other people, but sometimes I feel defeated by my current situation in life that more often than not keeps me trapped at home with only a limited social sphere.  I've got my family, my roommates, and then the closest of my friends, but other than that, I don't always get the social interactions I crave.

When it comes down to it, I need to be loved, and to love. I need to pour into others and I need to have others pour into me. Call it what you will, I need to have people to be interested in, and I need people to be interested in me, no matter how dorky, awkward, or weird my stuff might be. It is what it is.

The thing is, I don't like to settle.  I can't live with any old interactions talking about the weather or the clothes people are wearing, or even the latest sports scores.  I want the real stuff--if it involves hurt or hope or general happiness, I want to know about it. I don't care who you are. I aim to give you as transparent an image of my life as possible, and I expect the same from you, whether or not you agree.

While leading a house church, I saw firsthand how quintessential authentic loving communities are to anyone.  The closest thing I know to compare it to is our need to express our own sexuality. Everyone needs to interact with someone of the opposite sex and develop physical and emotional intimacy with someone else.  Likewise, I discovered how many people lack community in their life, and what that meant for the expression of the good news of Jesus in their lives.

Shortly after the house church I led became a unified group devoted to loving one another and encouraging others in the direction God was taking them, people started getting saved and lives were being changed. What's crazier was that it was happening even without an "altar call" whatsoever. It was simply the power of the Holy Spirit manifesting in people's lives as their emotional and spiritual needs were being met, one of which being their sense of belonging and acceptance.

Since then, one thing I try to do in my efforts to disciple people is to network with multiple churches and then bring them together in ways each person's strengths can build off every one else's strengths, as well as spur someone on to a deeper relationship with Jesus. Typically, the community of believers that forms out of a hodge-podge of strangers astonishes everyone present.

Even though I understand the importance of community to anyone breathing, I am surprised at what God has been and is doing in me through my efforts to bring believers together as friends and individuals in something bigger than themselves.  Never once did I envision that it could send me to France one day.

Right now, I am actively involved with two churches, but one more than the other. It's almost like I'm in transition between my home church, and this church plant I've been going to for two and a half months. Yet, I'm not.  There is a delicate balance between total involvement in one church at the expense of abandoning another.

What's more, God recently showed me an old acquaintance whom is now leading the college ministry at a church I used to visit. If everything works out, I might get the chance to rekindle my relationship with yet another church, potentially giving me the ability to have three sending churches when I go to France in about a year.

In case I haven't been clear, I don't network with all these churches just to meet the strongest Christians in the bunch and then mash them together in whatever ministry machine I need to disciple whichever person I happen to be working with at any given moment. Nah, I'm earnestly trying to draw near to God in complete assurance of my own faith.

I don't worry about what people think of me when I go church-hopping, and in all honesty, I expect my personality and love for Jesus will result in my being accepted and welcomed into any church I visit.  Every time I check out another church, I hold fast to the confession of my hope, knowing that he who promised is faithful.

Wherever I go, I do my best to spur others on to love and good works, but the thing I need to make sure I always do is not neglect to meet together, because that could very easily become a habit of mine because I am visiting with so many churches so frequently.

I have no idea what God's doing inside of you, but I know God's up to something bigger than me here, larger than life, something heavenly.

(And yes, in case you were wondering, I'm listening to worship music on Pandora right now, and Sanctus Real was playing as I concluded this entry).

Sweep out the dust

Floors attract dust. There's no getting around it.  It happens.  Each floor is different, and the mess that accumulates varies from room to room, depending on the type of floor and the foot traffic blazing trails atop it.  Some floors sparkle--until the dog prances in from peeing in the rain--and other floors make fantastic skating rinks for sock-clad kids and kids at heart.  In some places, the floor is covered in a ruffled carpet, slightly tinged with the stain of decaying skin cells and maybe the red Kool-Aid Rorshach that mom tried so hard to scrub out.

Whatever the floor, they need to be cleaned at some point or another. It's inevitable. It doesn't matter where you live, you will have to sweep the floor at least once before you die.  If you're unfortunate enough to have to sweep carpet for lack of a vacuum, you might wish you would die, but nevertheless, it is possible to sweep dirt out of carpet.

But I digress.

Floors get pretty grody and the upkeep never ends.  Sweeping is just one of those chores that never quits.  It's not a hard job but it is continuous.

It's kind of like salvation.

Now, from my limited understanding of Biblical Greek after two semesters of it, I can tell you the word translated as "work out" is χατεργάζεσθε which if I am understanding it correctly, is second-person plural (present continuous) imperative. That means it's a command to y'all (directed at the Phillipians, and by extension us) to continue to work out where in our lives we need more Jesus. Simply put, salvation is a process that we have to keep working on.

But like with sweeping, we are useless on our own. Without a broom, all we're good for is kicking the dirt around (while simultaneously contributing to the mess with the scuff flaking off our feet).

Salvation is the same way, because we're powerless to accomplish it on our own--God is the one who sweeps the dust out of us.

That's just dandy, isn't it? If we sweep our floors, we can work out our salvation? It's as easy as that?

While it is an easy task, it's never a simple one, not if done properly.

Think about everything you have to sweep around and under if you don't want the floor to look like a disheveled wreck.  I'm not talking about moving the couch or disassembling the entire room to scour every corner, but Lord knows your garage or living room probably needs it.  I'm just talking about the mundane sweeping we should do regularly.

It can be difficult to reach into those tight corners or squeeze the bristles under the toekick to coax out the crusty Cheerio the family pooch neglected to find.  Likewise, it's not always easy to let God have access to every filthy crevice or grimy mound inside ourselves.  We might know these areas need cleaning, but we're hesitant to go to that much trouble.

Let's say you go to the trouble of fishing the dirt out into the open. Have you ever tried to sweep it into a pile before introducing it to the dustpan, only to have a rogue power cord get in the way? One of the most annoying things I find is having to lift power cords and wires to sweep a pile of dirt under and away from them.  Sometimes, we let God work on us, but maybe we let circumstances get in the way, or perhaps it's our own pride or emotions.

But really, sweeping isn't so bad.  It's easy enough a kid can do it, and frankly, it's more like dancing than dust-collecting.  The reward is so worth it, the rejuvenated life a swept floor can bring to a room.  If nothing else, a swept floor just feels more liveable, friendlier even.

If we think of working out our salvation the same way, the joy it will bring far outperforms the mere act of sweeping.  All we have to do is let God work on us, and worship him for what he's doing as he does it, and keep it up.  It's pretty simple, really.

That's kind of where I'm at right now in my life.  I'm about a year out from getting my Masters of Divinity and after that, I'm looking forward to going to France as a church planter; I already have a job offer to do just that, and I can see God orchestrated everything.  In the meantime, I'm working to prepare myself for the adventure ahead of me, trying to clean out all the spots of my life I've tracked dirt into over the years.  Bad habits, insecurities, and communication problems just always seem to sneak in but I'm not worried about any of it. I like sweeping, but sweeping me isn't my job, so I'm just going to step back so God can get those hard-to-reach parts of me.