Sunday, January 28, 2018

The Moon

Tonight the moon halo shines bright.
Alone under the great eye of the night,
I stand little and small in its gaze.

Am I afraid in its sight?
No, I'm comforted to be in its light.
I'm reassured to be seen.

My realities shift like the sands on a dune,
my anxieties are secret, but known by the moon.
And like a rock that hates to be hewn,
I fight against the hands that would open me.

But the moon listens;
the moon knows;
the moon sees, and
the moon understands.

A halo forms the iris of the night,
and the deep dark of its eye is
illuminated by the small twinkling
of billions of galaxies distant.

The moon demands nothing of me,
expects nothing more, sees nothing less.
I am naked, bare, and exposed under its eye,
and it feels good to be finally seen.

The moon is not brilliant, but soft;
not incredible, but humble.
And in its humility it lights up our entire world
in its cool, all seeing dimness.

And I wonder, sometimes, on a night like this,
Who hung the moon in the sky? 
Who gave a source to its knowing light?

For maybe He is able to see me too.
Maybe He is able to make me unafraid.
Maybe I can stand naked, bare, and exposed in His sight,
and risk no condemnation at all.

Thursday, January 4, 2018


Chai latte,
beautiful snowy day,
a pen in my hands.

Clouds hanging,
guitar strings twanging,
and a poem in my heart.

These are the things that I am thankful
for today, a measure of the good Lord's
grace, the gift of breath in my lungs, and
the wondrous beauty of the world around me.

If I could number the ways that my 
Jesus has blessed me, I would be numbering
those ways for an eternity. I'm glad that instead,
I get to spend my whole life with Him.

Finding wonder and beauty in the racing
world around us can often be much
more difficult than we would like, but God
offers His rest and comfort to all who seek Him.

Oh, may the Lord be praised! May my song
rise to Him in the morning, and my gratitude
in the evening. For He is enthroned and reigns
forever and ever in heaven and in our hearts.

Tuesday, October 3, 2017


Heart on a storm-tossed sea,
can barely hear Your love for me
amidst the crashing thunder and pounding waves;
feels like this tempest might last for days.

Throwing unneeded things off the side,
lightening the load into the surging tide.
I toss away what once held importance
in a desperate attempt to leave this dance.

There is one thing that I hold tightly to,
a burden I refuse to just let go,
and even if I chose to forsake all else,
I wouldn’t dare send this one to the shells.

The Lord, my Light, who gave me life,
He took my broken heart and healed my strife.
He freed me from sin, a price not cheap
and it is my Jesus that I choose to keep.

Should I be lost to the wind-crazed sea,
I know that forever He’ll be with me.
When upside-down I find myself,
He calms the sea and is my help.

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Understanding Humanity

Humanity isn’t something that we should rid ourselves of, but rather a powerful realization of the intent that God originally created us with.

I’ve been thinking a lot about humanity. What it is, and what it isn’t. It seems to me that the world describes humanity as simply the biological beings that we are. This completely removes God from the equation. Humanity, to them, is just us being the most intelligent beings on the planet — and even that point of view is being challenged by some scientists.

Within Christian culture, we say that humanity is defined as those who bear the image of Christ — but then we also speak of our humanity as an evil, terrible thing. Humanity, to us, is totally depraved. Something to rid ourselves us rather than to celebrate.

And while this point of view sounds appropriate and Biblical at first, I’m beginning to question it. I do believe that humanity is grounded in the fact that we bear the image of Christ. How then could it also be something that is filthy and unholy in God’s eyes?

I’ve come to realize that in the moments that I feel closest to God, or when I’m being obedient to the Holy Spirit in difficult things, or when I’m pouring out my life before the Lord — those are the moments when I feel “most human.” It’s when I’m hurting others, when I’m being disobedient to the Holy Spirit, and when I’m seeking my own glory — these are the moments when I feel “least human.”

I think humanity is found in the God who created us — and as we grow in His image, and are sanctified by the Holy Spirit, we are slowly becoming more human — more like God intended us to be originally. Rather than humanity being something that we seek to shed ourselves of (which sounds a whole lot like veiled neo-Gnosticism), perhaps humanity is something we should pursue.

This shift in perspective allows for a full realization of the fact that we, as humans, are image-bearers of Christ. In those that don’t know Christ, we can still catch glimpses of humanity — albeit, humanity that has not come to know its full potential to grow and flourish. Rather than humanity being something that we as Christians despise in those we disagree with, it becomes a common ground for us to grow together in.

The Bible, I believe, supports this; for example, we can see that sin leads us away from God, and therefore makes us less human:

“They pursued worthless idols and became worthless themselves, following the surrounding nations the LORD had commanded them not to imitate.“ - 2 Kings 17:15 HCSB

We can also see how Christianity (in recent ecclesiastical history, I might add) has adopted the idea that ridding ourselves of humanity is a good thing:

“But that is not the way you learned Christ! — assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” - Ephesians 4:20-24 ESV

However, I don’t read these verses to mean a complete removal of an 'old' identity, and then an acceptance of a brand 'new' one, however. What I think Paul means by “putting off” and “putting on” is much more akin to the act of unwrapping a gift — we take off the wrapping paper which merely entangles and obscures the actual present we were given.

This new way of thinking deeply impacts our Christian perceptions of the world. No one is without hope, for they always have a glimmer of humanity — the Imago Dei — within them, no matter how veiled. Humanity becomes something to celebrate as a gift that God has given, which informs our attitudes towards community, as well. Individualism starts to lose ground as we begin to realize that we can learn about our infinite God as we see His eternal glory reflected in the finite humanity of those around us. 

Also, rather than making us brand new — a process that suggests the utter destruction of the previous self — we see that God is RESTORING us through a process of reconciliation called sanctification. He isn’t giving up on His original creation; rather, He’s shaping us in a direction that is headed towards His original intent for us. I don’t believe that God thinks He made a mistake when original sin entered our world, or that we are unlovable in our humanity — rather, I believe that it is our humanity that is the reason why He sent Jesus to die. 

To Him, our humanity was worth saving.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

To The Dreamers

This summer, I’ve been working a job as a construction laborer. It’s hard, hot and sweaty work, and often leaves me feeling exhausted. However, one of the best things about the work is getting to hear my coworker’s stories. 

The men I work with could be described as having colorful language, being a bit rough around the edges, or just straight up crude. That’s what I saw at first. Cussing, smoking, and inappropriate humor are the norm, it seems. But as hour after sweaty hour goes by and I spend more time working alongside of them, I really begin to understand just how strong some of them are.

One of my coworkers shows up every day on time and stays the whole day (not all of the men do!) because he’s working to provide for his family. He gave up his dream of pursuing basketball so that he could see his son more. He wishes he had more time to focus on going to church, and reading the Bible, but it’s difficult for him to go 100% into faith with a family to provide for and an exhausting job. He dreams of a career where he works on car transmissions — something he loves to do.

Another one of my coworkers consistently works 10 hours a day. That’s ten hours in a field of dirt and mud in 90, sometimes 100 degree heat. He does this so that he can provide safety for his family. He’s served time as a police officer in the past. He loves his wife and his twins, whom he is separated from currently while he makes money to provide for them. He dreams of a better life, spent with his family.

It makes me feel a little guilty knowing that I’m only working this job for the summer. I have full control over my hours — I can choose when I go into work, since no one is dependent on my money to live. I’m free to be there, and I’m free to go. My pay is good for being a summer laborer, and I’m doing the some of the same work that the career guys are. A lot of the guys I work with don’t have that kind of freedom. Many of them can’t or didn’t go to school like I am now.

And yet, they all have dreams. Many of these men work to provide for their families; there isn’t much else they know to do or that they could go to. So they work the jobs that many people look down on or think less of, and build the beautiful structures that we get to use and enjoy. Their language and humor is roughened by the frustration that comes from spending hours in the sun every day. But they are still human — they like to laugh, to smile, and to enjoy the benefits of the hard work that they do. In those ways, they reflect the image of the God that they unknowingly bear.

It seems their dreams fuel their desire to get up in the morning. You can tell how much the men have to live for based on how they treat their job — when they stay late, when they show up on time every day; those are the committed ones. The dreamers.

Here’s to those who are overlooked and undervalued. Those striving to make ends meet while dreaming of so much more. Here’s to the ones who hold onto hope by the thinnest of threads, and wake up every morning with a determination that can sometimes seem inhuman. Whether it’s illness, the hardships of life, grief, depression, or anything else — here’s to you waking up every morning and simply drawing another breath. You’re an example of strength. A reflection of perseverance.  A model of long-suffering.

Thank you for showing the rest of us what it means to dream.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

The Gravel Path

My school’s prayer chapel sits near the exact middle of campus. This is great for the times when I’ve been having a stressful day, and have a little bit of time between classes — I’m able to walk right to it without going too far out of my way.

In addition to it’s location, it also has a beauty that draws me in. It has four small prayer rooms that can comfortably seat up to four people, though I usually snag one when I’m alone. It also has a quaint little sanctuary with a piano and cross. I love to sit in one of the little prayer rooms while others play the piano. Unbeknownst to them, their praise and worship blesses me as I listen to the simple acoustic melodies. The small building is surrounded by benches, fountains, rock gardens, and flowers. They smell awesome this time of year, and it’s a blessing to sit on one of these benches and watch the sun set as the warm evening air seems to sigh over such a beautifully painted sky. The prayer chapel is arguably the second most beautiful place on campus.

The most beautiful place on campus is the trail that leads to the chapel. There are some paved sidewalks that lead to it, but the path I’m talking about is simply gravel. It leads under some trees, winds it’s way between a myriad of different colored flowers, over a quiet creek, and up a small incline on which the prayer chapel rests on top of. Best yet, you can count on a red-winged blackbird to be singing and flying above these flowers. I haven’t walked down this path yet this spring during the day when he wasn’t out. I watched him dance in the air for about fifteen minutes one time.

I love that the path leads through the most beautiful spot on campus, but the path itself is just gravel. It practically begs you to turn your eyes from it and to the gorgeous scenery you are surrounded by. It’s the one place that I find it difficult to look down at my feet when I walk, especially when I’m processing some hard things. My worries are forgotten for a few blissful moments as I slow my pace down to enjoy this sacred space.

The gravel path reminds me of the people in my life who exemplify Christ-like character. They always seem to draw my eyes off of themselves because they contrast themselves - in incredible humility - with a beautiful God. They direct honor and praise away from themselves and towards Christ. For a few blissful moments, I catch a glimpse of what is most important — something that supersedes the hard road I walk on.

Our culture teaches us to bring attention to ourselves. Consumerism feeds this by demanding that we choose what we want at a price that is convenient for us. Media demands portraying characters that succeed when they seek self-gain, and demeaning characters that are meek and humble. Our careers only seem to progress when we ask for that promotion, or work hard for that raise. Sometimes even our churches try to sell us a faith that is focused on individual salvation, not communal sanctification. The kind of faith that says, “Individual salvation is all that matters; and if you have that, you’re gold. The Body of Christ and spiritual disciplines don’t hold much weight.”

Instead, I think the Lord calls us to honor others above ourselves. To point others in a heavenward direction when they approach us with their worries and anxieties. In fact, even that may be too selfish a stance. James 1:27 says: 

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world,” (ESV). 

This verse calls us to seek out those who are afflicted, not wait for them to come to us. Jesus wants us to meet people in their sorrows, and to immediately begin pointing them to the One who can give them peace and rest. Just like the gravel path that I’ve come to love dearly, I don’t love those encouragers around me because of what they do; I love them because they allow me to stand on their shoulders for a while to give me a glimpse of what can truly save me. In this way, they are exemplifying how we are to #LiveItLikeJesus.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Success is Finishing

A marathon runner doesn’t count his success as the number of people he finished ahead of; simply completing the race means that he has done an incredible job.

I was watching my RA and his fianc√© stuff wedding invitations into envelopes the other day, and I pointed out that they were using different methods to achieve the same goal: he was grabbing 10 or so envelopes at a time, and then sealing them one by one until his small stack was gone, then reaching for another set. She, however, was sealing the letters one by one. I challenged them to a race, to see who’s method was better… soon after the letters were being sealed as quickly as possible, sometimes at the expense of a bent envelope being stuffed in the box wrong.

Afterwards, this moment got me thinking about how we compare ourselves to others. I think in American careers, we are taught that getting things done faster is often better — that’s why we live 100 mph lives. While we drive to work, we talk on the phone; while we watch football, we also send out emails. Everything we do is geared towards efficiency, because we know that if we slowed down, someone else would take our place and we would become irrelevant.

Our lives are lived with this race mentality, and it never seems to slow down. We get things done faster, yes, but it’s often at the expense of quality — not necessarily the things we produce, but the lives we live. We are lessening the quality of our lives by racing; and our envelopes are becoming bent and creased along the way.

I think this race mentality ultimately stems from a misinformed view of success: our successes seem to lie in accomplishing a goal faster or better than those around us. A bigger paycheck, another raise… these are how we gauge our successes. Our constant comparison steals our joy as we push each other farther and farther into this cycle of striving to be the best.

However, what if we changed our view of success to not mean getting things done faster or better, but simply just getting them done? In the case of my RA and his fianc√©, this would mean that they could both work at whatever pace they desired — regardless of who was faster — to work towards a common goal, and BOTH would succeed fully when the letters were finished. The race mentality seems to be uniquely Western; there are many many places in the world where work is something to be done; not something to be done quickly.

By giving ourselves time and grace to finish what we start, I feel that we can begin to live much more full lives — we may not get as much done in a day, but maybe God isn’t calling us to a constant cycle of racing busyness. Matthew 20:1-16* has a beautiful example of this; the laborers who worked one hour received as much as the laborers did who worked the whole day. Their success wasn’t based upon how much each individual accomplished, but whether the job was done or not. Thus, everyone got the same pay.

I would encourage you to start to view your successes based on what you finish, and not worry about how others have finished the same work, whether faster or slower, better or worse. Instead, give God thanks for the opportunity to glorify Him through the work that you do. Be able to look on what you did, and be able to say that it is good, just as He looked on you and saw that you were good. This is one way that we are able to #LiveItLikeJesus.

*This passage is taken out of context; Jesus is talking to His disciples about the kingdom of heaven. This parable lets the disciples know that those who come to salvation, whether in their youth or in their old age, will be accepted into God's kingdom. However, I still believe it can tell us something about work ethic as well.