Saturday, March 30, 2013

In The Shadow Of The Cross

Silence.
My body molded into the green plush chair, I stare at the pale blue walls. A whiteboard is plastered on the wall with my grandma's name scrawled on it, in addition to the dosage of medicine the doctors have given her.
My right hand hangs awkwardly in my lap, and my left hand coils over the wooden folding table to clench my grandma's cold disfigured hand.
Her frail body lies there almost motionlessly on the thin hospital bed. It had only been five days since her surgery.
I can feel the ache inside of her through her bones.

It's been a year since my grandma had her surgery. The day after Easter, in fact.
I remember waking up at 3:30 a.m. to get to the hospital by 5:00 a.m. My mom, stepdad, younger sister, and I piled into our blue minivan -- and then grandma stepped in. Her face somber, she adjusted herself into the empty "bucket" seat beside me.
The ride to the hospital was almost silent. The only words spoken were those referring to directions.
After arriving at the hospital, we escorted grandma in to the dimly lit waiting room. We filled out the paperwork, and after scampering from one office to another, we left her there. Dressed in a baby blue hospital gown sitting in a wheelchair, she kissed each of us goodbye.

It hurt saying goodbye. I knew I would see her again soon, but the reality of leaving her there under the care of doctors and nurses scared me. What if something went wrong during the surgery? My head flooded with questions I did not know the answers to. I was clueless and afraid.

I expect the disciples felt a similar way when their Teacher, Jesus Christ, was pierced to the cross that solemn Friday night. A perfect and holy man, embodying God himself, hanging on the cross with a crown of thorns on his head and blood coating his entire body.

The man who had taught them everything about life hung there dead, right in front of their faces.
All hope was gone.

It baffles me when I conjure up the thought that the disciples didn't know Easter Sunday was coming. What would it be like to stand in front of the cross, not knowing that the resurrection would happen three days later?

The closest moment I have to that is the moment saying goodbye to my grandma in the hospital waiting room. But even then, I knew I would see her again.

This Easter season, I am reminded of the sorrow and confusion the disciples faced while watching their Savior die on the cross between two thieves. In that moment, there was no more hope. All that had happened the three years previous was meaningless.

Thankfully, Jesus did rise from the grave and now lives in heaven. And we can have eternal life if we confess our sins and believe his death and resurrection washed away our palette of brokenness.

But what would it have been like to not know this eternal hope was coming? How would you have reacted? What would it have been like to be in the shadow of the cross 2,000 years ago?

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

The Value of... Chicken?

Work was interesting yesterday.
In case you didn't know, I work at my college's cafeteria where Tuesday lunches are the most anticipated meal all week. Why is that, you ask?
Chicken tenders. Or nuggets. Those little pieces of breaded, chicken-y goodness are the most coveted craving among hungry students.
Typically on a Tuesday, my co-runner and I are hustling and bustling bringing out new pans of chicken, french fries, and other dishes.
But yesterday was slower. Not because the desire for chicken was any less, but because two of the three friers in the kitchen were broken and were currently being repaired.
Every time we brought out a new pan of chicken, it was gone within a minute. And then there would be this awkward lapse of time where my co-runner and I would wander around apologizing to all those hungry souls in line that it would be another 3-4 minute wait for the next batch.
It was funny, though. About halfway through my shift a quote popped into my head.
"Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on the object we're waiting for." --Charles Stanley
Is the value of chicken really that high?
To a 20-year-old college student, yes. Especially if the meals you digest are salad compared to your mama's or grandma's home-cooking.
It makes me wonder about the value we place on our relationship with the Lord. Not that chicken and God have anything in common, besides the fact that God created chicken in the beginning of the world (and I'm not going to start the argument about what came first: the chicken or the egg).
But really, how often are we patient and willing to wait for the voice of the Lord with matters in our life?
For me, I have a hard time slowing down and listening to His voice. I get so caught up in the busyness of my life, that I would rather find my own answer than wait minutes, hours, days, or weeks to hear back from Him about a decision.
In Isaiah 64:4, the prophet writes that God is someone "who acts on behalf of those who wait for him." So basically, all the while we are waiting for Him to work in our lives, He is ALREADY working. He's working behind-the-scenes to produce the most excellent finish.
You probably think I'm crazy for connecting chicken to God, but I think it's important we realize what we value most in our lives.
What do you spend the most time waiting on or investing in?
 That's the thing you value most.
What would it take for you to lower that and put God above it?

Sunday, March 3, 2013

God In A Gas Station

Two days ago, two of my friends and I hit the interstate for an 8-hour road trip. Our long journey consisted of bonding through worship, prayer, eating at Jimmy John's and listening to a sermon by Francis Chan. Our destination? The one and only IHOP -- and that's not the pancake house, ladies and gents. That's the International House of Prayer in Kansas City, MO that hosts 24/7 prayer services. The three of us were stoked.
We arrived in KC around 7 p.m. and dropped one of our friends off at a high school to meet the family she would be staying with this week. Afterwards, my friend Kayla and I had no plans. We were free to do what we wanted for the rest of the night.
After a quick look at the gas level-ometer, we noticed the little arrow was close to hitting the red "E." We decided that a gas station would be the next stop in our night of spontaneity.
Little did we know that the stop would last more than an hour-and-a-half.
After leaving the high school parking lot, we immediately drove past a gas station to our right. Oops, our conversation had distracted us from making the turn. Luckily, there was a gas station only a quarter of a mile up the road under the bridge to the free way. We pulled in to the Phillipps 66 gas station at around 7:15 p.m.
Once pulling up to the pump, Kayla and I decided that I would pay for gas because she had paid for it on the way down. After retrieving my wallet, I noticed that the slot for my debit card was empty. "Shoot, I must have kept it in my other wallet," I said.
Thankfully, I had a $20 bill in my wallet so I gave it to Kayla to pay for as much gas as we could. Kayla walked into the gas station and pre-payed, while I stood out in the cold waiting to fill up. After some confusion of doing pre-pay (I had only done it once before), we were able to get the car half-filled. Good enough for now.
Kayla then contacted one of her friends in KC to hang out with. We were planning on going to Chipotle, when all of a sudden her iPhone died and thus had no way of navigating to the restaurant. I didn't have GPS on my phone, so we were stuck until her phone charged up again.
Kayla plugged her phone charger into the USB outlet in her radio, but the battery didn't charge.
Okay God, now what? We have no way of finding Chipotle and we don't even know what state we're in (KC is on the border of Kansas and Missouri, so we were clueless which side of the state line we were on.).
We decided to walk into the gas station and ask if they had an outlet we could use to charge Kayla's phone. Two clerks were at the desk: an older man probably in his late 50's, and a young girl who looked like she was in her early 20's. They both directed us to the women's bathroom, where we found an outlet next to the sink.
After plugging in Kayla's phone, we started talking about what we were going to do next. It was soon brought up that one of us should check on the car to make sure it was still safe, since the two of us were going to be in the bathroom for a while charging the phone.
I went out to the lobby and checked on the car, and just as I was about to turn back and walk to the bathroom, the two clerks asked if the outlet was working. I said yes, and they both asked where we were heading that night. I told them we were going to Chipotle and needed the GPS to work. The young girl started explaining how to use the Maps feature on an iPhone, and soon enough she sprung out from behind the counter and followed me into the bathroom to show us how it functioned (even though we already knew how it worked).
Three girls in a bathroom: two girls going to IHOP, and one gas station clerk. It couldn't have been more God-orchestrated. Read what happened next.
Kayla and I told the girl that we were headed to IHOP, and not surprisingly, she asked us what that was. We told her it was a prayer house that has live music 24/7. She was amazed by this and asked more. We showed her the live stream on Kayla's iPhone, and she seemed really curious.
We then began explaining to her why we were there and where we were from. She asked us what the two of us wanted to do when we grew up, and when Kayla told her she was going to be a youth pastor, the girl became really interested.
I don't know how all the pieces connected exactly, but eventually Kayla spilled her entire testimony and the girl ended opening up to us about her life.
The girl had grown up going to church when she was younger, but as a teenager she drifted away from the "religious" scene and got hooked into partying and dating other girls. She also told us about her difficult relationship with her mother.
What was interesting is that the night we visited was the girl's last day of work at the gas station. In three days, she was moving to Colorado with her half-brother to begin a new life. It was definitely a turning point for her in her life.
Throughout the conversation, which lasted over an hour, we continued telling her how much the Lord loved her and that He has a plan for her life. She was full of questions and eager to learn more about our faith. Every now and then I noticed a slight grin on her face, and it was amazing seeing the transformation taking place.
She didn't end up giving her life to the Lord, but we were able to pray with her at the end.
We laid hands on her inches in front of a sink in a gas station bathroom. God truly does work in the most unusual of places.
That hour-and-a-half couldn't have been more perfectly arranged.
  • If I would have had my debit card, we wouldn't have gone inside to pay.
  • If Kayla's phone hadn't died and then decided to work, then we wouldn't have gone in and had to use the outlet in the women's bathroom.
  • If I hadn't gone and checked on our car, the girl wouldn't have followed me into the bathroom.
God seriously uses the most hopeless and frustrating moments for His glory sometimes. It's puzzling and beyond comprehension -- but it's SO worth every flustered moment, tear and grumble.
So whenever you find yourself in the midst of a situation that seems utterly hopeless, don't lose hope. Keep your eyes fixed on Jesus and your hope anchored in Him. Even when you feel like giving up, the Lord always has a way out and will use the most inopportune moments (in our human eyes) to show His glory.
Remember this truth that Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans:
"And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." (Romans 8:28)
God works in the middle of our mishaps. He doesn't expect perfection; all he requires is a heart that is willing and obedient to His voice, even in the midst of confusion and pain.
He turns our frustrations into moments for His glory to shine when we obey Him.