Abundance

It's funny how you can read the same passage over and over, and still discover something new about it.

This morning I was reading John 6, where Jesus feeds the 5,000+ crowd with five loaves of bread and a couple of fish. What struck me today, in this story that I've heard since I was old enough to remember, was verse 11:

"Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks to God, and passed them out to the people. Afterward he did the same with the fish. And they all ate until they were full." (emphasis mine)

Jesus could have simply given the people enough food to keep their stomachs from growling, enough to tide them over til they went home for a real meal. But he gave them enough to fill their bellies. Enough to satisfy them. And beyond that, there were still twelve baskets full of leftovers (vs. 13).

The footnote in my Bible reads: "There is a lesson in the leftovers. God gives in abundance. He takes whatever we can offer him in time, ability, or resources and multiplies its effectiveness beyond our wildest expectations. If you take the first step in making yourself available to God, he will show you how greatly you can be used to advance the work of his Kingdom."

It's amazing how God can do so much with so little, if we only offer it to Him!

Seeing the Invisible

Ever since Hurricane Katrina hit, there has been a lot written about, blogged about and reported about the efforts that millions from around the country (and the world) are doing to help the victims. While a lot of finger pointing and bureaucratic red tape was holding up relief efforts by local, state and federal governments, the church (and by this I mean ALL churches) stepped up. Some opened their doors as shelters for the evacuees. Others raised and donated money. Still others delivered food, water, and supplies to hurricane and flood-ravaged areas. And I applaud that. It's not something that we need to pat ourselves on the back about, though; we were and are doing exactly what we are called to do as Christ's body.

So Jesus called them together and said, "You know that in this world kings are tyrants, and officials lord it over the people beneath them. But among you it should be quite different. Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be the slave of all. For even I, the Son of Man, came here not to be served but to serve others, and to give my life as a ransom for many." Mark 10:42-45

Kudos aside, I can't help but feel convicted about the fact that while my heart has been so touched by those were rendered homeless by the hurricane and its afteraffects, I struggle to have the same sensitivity towards those who have been poor and homeless for years. There are millions of homeless, destitute people in small towns and big cities all over this country. There are hundreds living right here in Montgomery. So why haven't I felt a need to help them, as I feel a need to help the hurricane victims?

Is it perhaps that I don't see them as victims, that somehow they're to blame for their own poverty? Or maybe it's that they seem to be invisible altogether. If their faces were plastered on the news day and night, would I feel a deep sadness and desire to help them? If I heard their stories, would I be more sensitive to their plight?

This past weekend, I joined several members of my life group in working at a shelter for the poor and homeless. We prepared food for the Sunday meals, which serve anywhere from 500 to upward of a thousand people. These are not hurricane evacuees being served at this shelter, or people who find themselves temporarily displaced from their homes. These are poverty-stricken, desperate people who day in and day out are fighting for their lives.

I have to admit that working at that shelter was WAY beyond my comfort zone. And yet I can't get it out of my head. Long after the flood waters recede and homes are rebuilt and the evacuees return home and things return to "normal", these people I helped feed will be around. And hungry. Hungry for food and water. Hungry for attention and love. Hungry for compassion. Hungry for acceptance.

I know that there are many, many churches (mine included) that already minister in some way to the poor and neglected in our towns and cities. But it bothers me that we as a whole, myself included, were so quick to aid those in a crisis due to the hurricane, but are less quick to aid those who were already impovershed and homeless.

Am I the only bothered by this?

O God, open my eyes to see those who the world views as "invisible," but who You view as priceless. Make me a servant.

Convicting Words

Psalm 15

1 A psalm of David. Who may worship in your sanctuary, LORD? Who may enter your presence on your holy hill?

2 Those who lead blameless lives and do what is right, speaking the truth from sincere hearts.

3 Those who refuse to slander others or harm their neighbors or speak evil of their friends.

4 Those who despise persistent sinners, and honor the faithful followers of the LORD and keep their promises even when it hurts.

5 Those who do not charge interest on the money they lend, and who refuse to accept bribes to testify against the innocent. Such people will stand firm forever.

The Secret of Humility

In my Bible study tonight, we discussed the importance of humility in approaching God. We're reading through Secrets of the Secret Place by Bob Sorge. In chapter 12, Sorge refers to humility as "the foundation of all prayer."

Quite frankly, I had never really thought about the need for humility in prayer. But when you get right down to it, approaching God in prayer is admitting that I need Him, that I can't live on my own.

Conversely, not spending time in prayer with God is a sign of pride. Sorge says, "Prayerlessness is the first sign of prideful independence. We begin to trim back on our secret time with God when we're feeling great about ourselves, energetic and optimistic about our future, and confident about the path we're taking. It's the first sign that we're getting full of ourselves."

When I'm broken, humbled, disappointed or distressed, I earnestly come to God. I realize that He's my only hope. But how sad it is that so many times when things are going my way, I rush through my time with God, or some days skip it altogether.

When I am humble before God, that means that I get out of God's way and let Him work. I am then able to more clearly see Him working:

The humble will see their God at work and be glad. Let all who seek God's help live in joy. Psalm 69:32

If I truly felt a physical, tangible need for God every single day, I wouldn't dare skip my prayer time with Him. I want to feel that deep hunger for Him that is insatiable, not satisfied by anything but time with Him. I want to humble myself before Him.

Soaking

Tonight I had camp stew for dinner. The large stainless spoon rest I used got pretty greasy, but rather than attack it right away with the ol' scouring pad, I let it soak in some dishwashing liquid for a long while. By the time I was ready to clean it, the liquid had done its trick, de-greasing my spoon rest and allowing me to wash it quickly and effortlessly. Now it's it clean and I can use it again.

Sometimes our lives turn out to be a big mess. And sometimes, rather than attack our mess head on, God lets us soak for a while (often in hot water!). While it may seem like punishment, truly He's trying to get the crusty layers of sin and selfishness and pride that build up on us out of our lives. Then He can rinse us off, good as new, ready to be used again for His purpose.

Simplicity

Tis the Gift to Be Simple
'Tis the gift to be simple,
'tis the gift to be free,
'tis the gift to come downwhere we ought to be,
and when we find ourselves in the place just right,
'twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained
to bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed,
to turn, turn, will be our delight
till by turning, turning we come round right.
Shaker song, eighteenth century


Perhaps it's just a byproduct of getting older, but from time to time I think about simplifying my life. Fewer things, fewer responsibilites, a lighter schedule, all very appealing at times, particularly in the aftermath of such tremendous disaster as we've witnessed with Hurricane Katrina. As I packed a big duffel bag of clothes and toiletries for my Labor Day weekend trip to Destin, it occurred to me that I had more in that weekend bag than many evacuees escaped with during the hurricane. It humbled me and at the same time made me very appreciative of what I have.

Simplicity is appealing. But is it really feasible? And is it even necessary? The old Shaker song above calls simplicity a "gift", implying that it's not something that comes naturally to us. Life is complicated. Sure, I can make decisions that further complicate my life. But not having a job in order to "simplify" my life, for instance, does not lighten my load per se--rather, it can burden me even more as I struggle to pay the bills. Eliminating activities in order to have more "free time" does not benefit me if I don't use that free time wisely. Ridding myself of friendships because they're "complicated" reduces my relationships to shallow, unfulfilling experiences.

I know that we blame our culture for our go-go lifestyle, cramming more activity, more entertainment, more responsibilities into our lives. But what about the church's role in all this? When you belong to a church that is very activity-driven, very ministry-oriented, sometimes it's difficult to say no to activities that are not bad or sinful, but that still add to your list of things to do. Having gone through extreme church ministry burn-out before, I've found that I've had to limit the amount of "church stuff" I do in order to make more time and room in my life for my personal relationship with God, with my family, and with my friends. At the same time, if, in my effort to "simplify" my life, I eliminate all church activity and responsibility, I become guilty of neglecting my responsibilities as a Christian.

So what are your thoughts on simplifying your life? How do you do it? To what extent?