Slight Preview 2013

Yesterday in our house church gathering one of our brothers said that during worship the Lord was speaking to him about a season of new doors being opened for me and my family. At first he wanted to talk to me about it privately, but then God urged him to do it in front of everyone, so he did.

This confirmed what Wendy and I have been sensing for a while now.

Up to this point we’ve only had a vague sense that old things were passing away and that God might have new plans in store for us in the year ahead. A few weeks ago I had a dream where Jesus was calling me to follow Him deeper into the dark ocean depths where there would be real suffering, real pain, and real death. Then, Wendy said that she had been sensing that God was preparing us for some financial tests of faith and trust.

In addition to this word, this brother also felt very strongly that the scripture in 2 Timothy 1:6-7 applied to me, which says: “I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline."

Someone also said that they felt like there could be more writing involved in the future and they prayed for God to bless my gift of writing.

After our house church family laid hands on our whole family and prayed for us, another brother in our group looked at me and said that God had “on purpose” not revealed to me the exact nature of this calling or the new doors He was going to open because He knew that if I knew what it was I would be tempted to start moving in that direction, or try to make it happen. [See? God knows my heart.] But he also said that God wanted me to know that “when the door opens, you won’t miss it.”

So, it’s hard to know if this is about one single thing, or if it’s about several different things at the same time. Is this about a new opportunity for ministry and service to the poor, or to our community, or to my co-workers? Or is it about a new opportunity to preach the Gospel of the Kingdom in other states? Or in other nations? Is this about another financial test of faith where we have to depend on God for our daily bread? Or it is a combination of all of these things? Or something else I haven’t even considered yet?

 

See? I am trying to anticipate it and to prepare for it.

Another thing that was spoken over me yesterday was that I would encounter strong opposition to whatever God was calling me to, but that I should not be timid but speak with boldness and know that God was with me through it all.

So, there’s a mystery for you. What does God have in store for us in 2013?

Strangely, I am invigorated by all of this. Suddenly my life has purpose and meaning. I am part of something bigger than myself. God is at work in my life. He has plans for me. He has prepared me for something wonderful.

I’m also encouraged because earlier this year God also urged our family to set out a jar so that we could begin to put into it written testimonies of the miraculous things God was going to do in our lives in 2013.

At the end of this year, we can look forward to opening up this jar and be reminded of all the amazing ways that God has moved to provide for us, protect us, care for us, and lead us nearer to Himself.
I can hardly wait.

-kg

 

Hindsight Epiphanies

“Is there something you want to ask her?” the interpreter said to me. I paused for a moment and then shook my head. “No,” I said. “I don’t have anything to ask her.”

We were standing in the hot afternoon sun in Ensenada, Mexico, on the doorstep of a housing tract for migrant farm workers. The woman in question, probably around thirty years of age, was sweeping her front porch with a red broom. The floor was hard clay, but she swept it none the less. Her two boys, wearing t-shirts emblazoned with faded American slogans, circled around us. They looked to be elementary-age, but walked with the swagger and bravado of world-wise teens. The oldest one asked something in Spanish and our interpreter turned to the photographer next to me and said, “He wants to know if you would like to give him your sunglasses.” The young man next to me cocked his head and said, “I don’t think so” as we slowly began to turn away from the woman sweeping her porch.

The poverty was severe. Whole families were living in a single space not much bigger than my office cubicle back in the States. I stepped inside one of the corner units and saw that, unlike the room where the sweeping woman and her family lived, most were empty; the floor covered in empty beer bottles, old newspapers, candy and condom wrappers. Some had puddles of water in the center of the mud floor. There were flies. I could imagine the workers returning from the fields in a few hours, searching for an empty patch of ground to sit down or to rest their bones after a day’s work. I stepped back out of the cool darkness and into the warm sunlight to join my friends who were snapping pictures, murmuring quietly to one another in reverent tones.

Why was I here? It was a question whispered half to myself and half as a silent prayer.

I was here because my friend at the YWAM base here in Ensenada had asked me to come and speak to a group of students who were down to build houses for the poor in Mexico. I was here, in this migrant farmer housing area, because my friend had wanted to show me how people here lived. But, why was God putting me here? Why did He put me on this woman’s clay porch? Why did the interpreter ask me if I wanted to ask her any questions?

Eventually our little group mounted back into our air-conditioned SUV and rolled back out on to the dirt road to get something to eat. I watched the dogs chase us briefly in the rearview mirror until they became swallowed up in the silver gray dust of our tires.

Later that night, lying on my bed at the YWAM base, I replayed that scene over in my mind. “Do you want to ask her anything?” What would I ask her? What could I possibly need to know from her? It came to me quietly between slow breaths. “You could’ve asked her how you could pray for her.”

In my mind I saw us forming a circle around this woman, joining hands, praying through the interpreter for this woman’s family, for her sons, for her husband, for their daily bread, for God’s favor on their lives. Yes, I thought, the image in my mind of the prayer we did not offer fading softly. That’s what I could’ve asked her.

Lately I’ve grown weary of such hindsight epiphanies. This being only one of several I’ve had in the last few weeks. Why is it I do not think of these things at the moment, when they would actually do some good? Why is it I only think of what I should’ve said, or what I should’ve done, hours or days later? The dishes I should’ve washed without being asked. The floor I should’ve cleaned as an act of loving service for my friend. The prayer of blessing I should’ve offered the woman in Mexico. Why didn’t I consider these actions in the moment?

This answer came to me as I was on my knees in prayer recently. The reason I did not think of these things at the moment was because in that moment I was more concerned with my own agenda. I was in a hurry to go somewhere else. I was on my way to do something that I wanted to do. My agenda wasn’t submitted to Christ. This is why I couldn’t hear that still small voice; because my voice was too loud in my own ears.

Strangely enough, I am starting to think that this idea of dying to myself, taking up my cross daily to follow Jesus, is not as difficult as we make it out to be. Perhaps this is the most terrifying truth of all. It’s not impossible for me to wake up every day and say, “God, what’s your agenda? Make your agenda my agenda.” I can do that. It’s not that hard, really. But doing it means that I will have to give up something that I would prefer, or to share something that I really want to keep for myself, or to lay aside my preferences in favor of whatever God might call me to in that moment.

I’ve never been able to shake the story of two Christian martyrs from the second century who stood before the magistrate and professed Christ. The first man was asked, “Are you a Christian?” and when the man proclaimed his faith in Jesus he was taken a few feet away to have his skin ripped from his body. Then he was tied to a stake and as they made ready to burn him alive the magistrate turned to the second man and asked him, “And are you also a Christian?”

I put myself in the sandals of that second man and I wonder if I could answer, “Yes, I am a Christian” as he did. Perhaps if the penalty was having my head cut off or being quickly put to death, I could more easily affirm my faith in Christ. But to face such brutal torture, I’m not sure if I could do it. I’m not sure I have that kind of faith.

The other day as I was contemplating this very question I heard this sentence in my head saying, "the only way I will ever enter the Kingdom of God is if my flesh is stripped from me”. I know that this is true. One layer at a time, one day at a time, my flesh needs to die. Without this daily death I cannot follow Jesus. Without my cross there can be no crown.

Conversatio Morem!


-kg

IN HOT PURSUIT

Lately I’ve been contemplating the idea that there is more of Jesus to know than I know. Of course, this isn’t much of a huge revelation as far as things go. But the concept has gripped me over the last few days and I can’t seem to stop thinking about it.

I’ve been following Jesus for over 30 years now. I’ve been a licensed and ordained pastor for over 20 years. Yet the longer I know Jesus the more I realize that I have barely scratched the surface. What I know of Jesus is significant, but much of it is based on my past experience or my knowledge of the scriptures.

What set my imagination spinning was a brief testimonial where various people shared their breath taking experiences discovering how high and wide and deep and long the person of Jesus really was. As I listened to them speak I sensed something in my spirit begin to leap. I knew that it was possible for me to lose myself in the endless deep of Jesus like these people had. I understood that I had slowed down in my pursuit of Jesus. I had settled for less.

Even the idea of following Jesus implies chasing after him. Lately I’ve allowed my walk with Jesus to become more like lounging around. Rather than slowly following Jesus as if He weren’t headed anywhere particular or doing anything all that important, I began to think of following Jesus as a pursuit. Suddenly I could see that Jesus was active and moving and “always at work” [John 5:17]. It made keeping up with Jesus an active verb. Following Jesus is more like keeping up with Him and less like meandering aimlessly.

There is more of Jesus for me to know than I know. He is more marvelous, more exciting, more glorious than I can even imagine. I realize that lately the Jesus I’ve been following has been pretty predictable and sluggish. Maybe it’s not Jesus I’m following after all? Or maybe I’m still walking at the pace Jesus was keeping in my life five years ago? It’s as if I’m looking up and He’s farther ahead of me than I thought He was. It’s time for me to pick up the tempo and chase after Jesus again with all of my heart.

Of course, I understand that for me to fully receive more of Jesus I will need to allow Him to make room within my heart. It means that there is a cost. To have more of Him I will need less of me. This is why Jesus says that no one who wants to chase after Him can accomplish this without a daily death of self. [Luke 9:23]

Even as I contemplate the idea that there is more of Jesus to know than I know, my flesh whispers doubt in my ear. “Can there really be more of Jesus to know than you know already?” I hear the serpent hiss. “You’ve gone as far as you can go with Jesus. This is all there is.”

But I know this voice. I recognize the emptiness. It’s the flesh in me speaking out against the Spirit. “There must be more. I know there is more.”

All that I’ve experienced before? That’s not what Jesus is wanting to show me. All that I’ve heard and seen? There’s even more to know of Jesus than this. All the wisdom and truth and revelation God has given me in the past? It’s only the barest preamble of what Jesus has in store.

The revivals, the healings, the miracles, the prophetic words, the testimonies, the sweet intimate moments alone with him, all of it is less than what still waits ahead of me. Jesus has only begun to reveal His Glorious Self to me.

After all this time, there's more of Him to know. After all these years, there's more of Jesus to love. There's more of His splendor to see. There are more oceans of His love still left for me to sail.

My heart beats faster the more I consider this truth. Jesus is standing at the door and waiting to show me more of Himself. I dare not keep Him waiting.

-kg