the wowzer

Time to dissect...

Abraham was now old and well advanced in years, and the LORD had blessed him in every way. He said to the chief servant in his household, the one in charge of all that he had, "Put your hand under my thigh. I want you to swear by the LORD, the God of heaven and the God of earth, that you will not get a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites, among whom I am living, but will go to my country and my own relatives and get a wife for my son Isaac."

The servant asked him, "What if the woman is unwilling to come back with me to this land? Shall I then take your son back to the country you came from?"

"Make sure that you do not take my son back there," Abraham said. "The LORD, the God of heaven, who brought me out of my father's household and my native land and who spoke to me and promised me on oath, saying, 'To your offspring I will give this land' -- he will send his angel before you so that you can get a wife for my son from there. If the woman is unwilling to come back with you, then you will be released from this oath of mine. Only do not take my son back there." So the servant put his hand under the thigh of his master Abraham and swore an oath to him concerning this matter.

Then the servant took ten of his master's camels and left, taking with him all kinds of good things from his master. He set out for Aram Naharaim and made his way to the town of Nahor. He had the camels kneel down near the well outside the town; it was toward evening, the time the women go out to draw water.

Then he prayed, "O LORD, God of my master Abraham, give me success today, and show kindness to my master Abraham. See, I am standing beside this spring, and the daughters of the townspeople are coming out to draw water. May it be that when I say to a girl, 'Please let down your jar that I may have a drink,' and she says, 'Drink, and I'll water your camels too' -- let her be the one you have chosen for your servant Isaac. By this I will know that you have shown kindness to my master."

Before he had finished praying, Rebekah came out with her jar on her shoulder. She was the daughter of Bethuel son of Milcah, who was the wife of Abraham's brother Nahor. The girl was very beautiful, a virgin; no man had ever lain with her. She went down to the spring, filled her jar and came up again.

The servant hurried to meet her and said, "Please give me a little water from your jar."

"Drink, my lord," she said, and quickly lowered the jar to her hands and gave him a drink.

After she had given him a drink, she said, "I'll draw water for your camels too, until they have finished drinking." So she quickly emptied her jar into the trough, ran back to the well to draw more water, and drew enough for all his camels. Without saying a word, the man watched her closely to learn whether or not the LORD had made his journey successful.

When the camels had finished drinking, the man took out a gold nose ring weighing a beka and two gold bracelets weighing ten shekels. Then he asked, "Whose daughter are you? Please tell me, is there room in your father's house for us to spend the night?"

She answered him, "I am the daughter of Bethuel, the son that Milcah bore to Nahor." And she added, "We have plenty of straw and fodder, as well as room for you to spend the night."

Then the man bowed down and worshiped the LORD, saying, "Praise be to the LORD, the God of my master Abraham, who has not abandoned his kindness and faithfulness to my master. As for me, the LORD has led me on the journey to the house of my master's relatives."

The girl ran and told her mother's household about these things. Now Rebekah had a brother named Laban, and he hurried out to the man at the spring. As soon as he had seen the nose ring, and the bracelets on his sister's arms, and had heard Rebekah tell what the man said to her, he went out to the man and found him standing by the camels near the spring. "Come, you who are blessed by the LORD," he said. "Why are you standing out here? I have prepared the house and a place for the camels."

So the man went to the house, and the camels were unloaded. Straw and fodder were brought for the camels, and water for him and his men to wash their feet. Then food was set before him, but he said, "I will not eat until I have told you what I have to say."

"Then tell us," Laban said.

So he said, "I am Abraham's servant. The LORD has blessed my master abundantly, and he has become wealthy. He has given him sheep and cattle, silver and gold, menservants and maidservants, and camels and donkeys. My master's wife Sarah has borne him a son in her old age, and he has given him everything he owns. And my master made me swear an oath, and said, 'You must not get a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites, in whose land I live, but go to my father's family and to my own clan, and get a wife for my son.'

"Then I asked my master, 'What if the woman will not come back with me?'

"He replied, 'The LORD, before whom I have walked, will send his angel with you and make your journey a success, so that you can get a wife for my son from my own clan and from my father's family. Then, when you go to my clan, you will be released from my oath even if they refuse to give her to you —- you will be released from my oath.'

"When I came to the spring today, I said, 'O LORD, God of my master Abraham, if you will, please grant success to the journey on which I have come. See, I am standing beside this spring; if a maiden comes out to draw water and I say to her, "Please let me drink a little water from your jar," and if she says to me, "Drink, and I'll draw water for your camels too," let her be the one the LORD has chosen for my master's son.'

"Before I finished praying in my heart, Rebekah came out, with her jar on her shoulder. She went down to the spring and drew water, and I said to her, 'Please give me a drink.'

"She quickly lowered her jar from her shoulder and said, 'Drink, and I'll water your camels too.' So I drank, and she watered the camels also.

"I asked her, 'Whose daughter are you?'

"She said, 'The daughter of Bethuel son of Nahor, whom Milcah bore to him.'

"Then I put the ring in her nose and the bracelets on her arms, and I bowed down and worshiped the LORD. I praised the LORD, the God of my master Abraham, who had led me on the right road to get the granddaughter of my master's brother for his son. Now if you will show kindness and faithfulness to my master, tell me; and if not, tell me, so I may know which way to turn."

Laban and Bethuel answered, "This is from the LORD; we can say nothing to you one way or the other. Here is Rebekah; take her and go, and let her become the wife of your master's son, as the LORD has directed."

When Abraham's servant heard what they said, he bowed down to the ground before the LORD. Then the servant brought out gold and silver jewelry and articles of clothing and gave them to Rebekah; he also gave costly gifts to her brother and to her mother. Then he and the men who were with him ate and drank and spent the night there.

When they got up the next morning, he said, "Send me on my way to my master."

But her brother and her mother replied, "Let the girl remain with us ten days or so; then you may go."

But he said to them, "Do not detain me, now that the LORD has granted success to my journey. Send me on my way so I may go to my master."

Then they said, "Let's call the girl and ask her about it." So they called Rebekah and asked her, "Will you go with this man?"

"I will go," she said.

So they sent their sister Rebekah on her way, along with her nurse and Abraham's servant and his men. And they blessed Rebekah and said to her,

"Our sister, may you increase to thousands upon thousands; may your offspring possess the gates of their enemies."

Then Rebekah and her maids got ready and mounted their camels and went back with the man. So the servant took Rebekah and left.

Now Isaac had come from Beer Lahai Roi, for he was living in the Negev. He went out to the field one evening to meditate, and as he looked up, he saw camels approaching. Rebekah also looked up and saw Isaac. She got down from her camel and asked the servant, "Who is that man in the field coming to meet us?"

"He is my master," the servant answered. So she took her veil and covered herself.

Then the servant told Isaac all he had done. Isaac brought her into the tent of his mother Sarah, and he married Rebekah. So she became his wife, and he loved her; and Isaac was comforted after his mother's death.

(Genesis 24)

on honesty

I enter the scene, my heart burning with anger. Once again, someone close to me has hidden themselves behind a protective mask, portraying the marks of a spiritual giant (over the less glamorous truth). I didn't ask this of them -- I positively despise it. All the same, this face is for me...it awaits the approval of man.

Wait...behold! One is willing to expose their inner turmoil? He meekly displays his fear, inadequacy, and doubt...his weakness? A strange gravitational pull comes over me; I cannot discount this individual. His pain does not drive me to fury, unlike the masked man. I discover a strange well of compassion from deep within. I uncover the gentle heart of my Lord.

I share my story. I tell of my own condition that placed me face down on the pavement. I reveal a scarred life that is no longer evident. I disclose my account of a grace established.

To know this grace is to be drawn to it like the fiercest magnet. I identify with my own depravity (and my Lord's response). I grieve with it, but I recognize the hope inherent. As much as the masked man is consumed by underlying judgment, the honest man is conflicted with this mysterious ray of possibility: "A holy, righteous God would be drawn to me?"

The masked man turns away in discomfort. His heart unconditionally devoted towards the facade, he cannot accept a grace unknown. He must work harder; his life must be verified. His parents, his girl, his teachers, his employers, and his friends must be aware of the lengths he has taken; sadly, they will never be enough.

In his weakness, the honest man accepts and assumes a Strength. He will also be drawn to others that share his former state. In him (and more significantly, in his Lord), they will find shelter -- a recurrent epic of clemency.

on the origin of defense

If y'all haven't noticed, I rarely engage in debate. I attempt to only discuss items that are familiar with my experience -- I will not chase rabbit trails based on my theory (or yours). When it comes to spiritual matters, I employ the Missouri state slogan: "Show me."

Perhaps this is why it is frustrating to discuss my testimony with other believers. My own accurate response to the question, "What has God been doing in your life?" is commonly followed by the explanation of the inquirer's own understanding of spiritual matters. I can give them the benefit of the doubt, assuming that they are looking for an open door to share what God is doing in their life; however, more often than not, my words create a debatable scenario since my testimony differs from the common alternative: "Yes, I struggle. But God's grace is good."

Here's the thing...I had to seek out God's refining revelation in my own life. I had to come to the place where I was willing to admit to God (and to other believers) that I could be wrong. God could speak nothing into my life until I acknowledged the limits of my own understanding of His will and purpose. If I were to present my ten years in youth ministry as the pinnacle of Christian life, I would fail to acknowledge the fact that God intended more. And how many of us have done just that?

If my youth ministry was being monitored and gauged according to the more "successful" ministries around me, I would have never known the spiritual battle -- never seen demons ousted, never seen captives freed, never have known the power and authority that Christ grants us through the work of the cross -- none of this was evident in the ministries of highest acclaim. However, to be granted the privilege to be included in HIS work, the reconciliation of HIS creation to HIS kingdom...THAT is God's grace being good.

on the burden of leadership

Some days it would be easier to follow...

It would be easier to look to another to make my decisions -- to be responsible for my mishaps. If someone else could intervene between myself and God, while I trusted in the discernment and wisdom of that individual, it would certainly reduce the burden of my calling. Like the nation of Israel, I could ask for a king...he could determine the Lord's will for our lives.

What is easy is rarely indicative of what is best. God has entrusted me with a ministry beyond what my flesh can handle; my spirit, in turn, denies itself the right to compromise. This becomes a conversation between an Almighty God and mortal man. He chooses to reveal to me His Word, and I am responsible for its delivery. It (seemingly myself) is subject to the criticism or praise of those who comfortably follow, but its righteousness is not determined by their response. Herein lies the difficulty: can I truly trust this discernment, even when my words are despised? When the enemy's lies offer a way out from such disapproval, can I remain steadfast to the promptings and voice of a God unseen?

My spirit acknowledges that I have little choice; my anointing requires my obedience to be of any use. I am not granted the benefit of experiential empathy from my followers, for they maintain the luxury of option. Like Moses returning from the mountain, my zealous pursuit of His truth can be dismissed as a supernatural phenomenon -- something beyond their grasp. I long to show them its source, but this forces them to an unapproachable decision: to choose holiness over the approval of man.

Though a leader's followers may be many, inevitably this problem of choice will drive the leader to the investment of a few. Yes, Christ spoke to the crowds, but his joy was found in those willing to listen and submit to his lead:

I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.

All things have been committed to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:25-30

This is the solace, the "experiential empathy" that I have been granted. Christ has set the standard on how to lead his people; while spiritual leaders will bear similar scars, we will also find comfort in our obedient submission to him that understands our burden; in him we will find rest.

on justice

Perhaps it is the sticky residue of a youngest child complex, but I long for justice. I spent my childhood making sure that every piece of pie was cut equally, that every disobedient act against my parents was punished fairly, and that I would receive the same rights of independence granted to my older brother.

In most cases (particularly in my own head), these efforts failed. I was continually a victim of injustice, and my childhood pleas were often met with a disinterested response by those unaffected: "It's no big deal."

One cannot read the Psalms without identifying a theme of justice. David (another likely victim of a youngest child complex) wrote at least ten psalms concerning this attribute of God. However, my attention was significantly peaked in Psalm 82, with the words of the ambiguous Asaph:

God takes His stand in His own congregation;
He judges in the midst of the rulers.
How long will you judge unjustly
And show partiality to the wicked? Selah.
Vindicate the weak and fatherless;
Do justice to the afflicted and destitute.
Rescue the weak and needy;
Deliver them out of the hand of the wicked.
They do not know nor do they understand;
They walk about in darkness;
All the foundations of the earth are shaken.
I said, "You are gods,
And all of you are sons of the Most High.
Nevertheless you will die like men
And fall like any one of the princes."
Arise, O God, judge the earth!
For it is You who possesses all the nations. (NASB)

I know that I've never been taught to pray in this manner. I can probably assume this to be the case for most believers. However, I do acknowledge an innate desire to ask for these things. Is it selfish of me to ask God for justice against those that choose to live in wickedness? I do not desire to exalt myself in righteousness; I long to see good fruit recognized along with the bad, to receive the blessings of the Beatitudes.

Often, I feel as if I've gotten hosed in this desire. Frequently, I become frustrated at the injustice upon the wicked. My smallest pursuit is for worldly pleasure, but even my worldly desires that are righteous have been thwarted. I watch beautiful children raised in horrible homes. I see beautiful women abused by vile men. I cannot help but wonder, as Job undoubtedly had: "What have I done wrong, to watch the wicked bear the blessings of the righteous?"

I have no answer for this. I am aware that the Enemy wants to dine upon the weakness of my faith. Therefore, if God has allowed these injustices and prevented only my destruction (Job 2:6), when will my life be allowed to manifest His Glory?

on taking it for granted

I've been reading in Jeremiah lately...shocker, huh? Anyway, the opening portions consist of a great deal of dialogue -- a ping-pong match between Jeremiah and God, describing how everything in Judah went wrong. Sure, the sin was idolatry, but at the heart of every separation of man and God was forgetting. God's people had forgotten that He had brought them out of Egypt; they forgot that He had called them to holiness; they forgot that He could not stand for injustice; they forgot that He alone is God.

After ten full days at the base of the Teton's, I already am prone to forget that I am staring at the majesty of God. Just ten days ago, I stared at a snow-capped mountain for the first time -- I understood fully my own limitations. Now I see the mountains every day, and I can't help but respond accordingly, is if it has always been "this way."

To forget the moment of redemption and transformation is to lose one's testimony. It is to build up a pride that relies on our own facilities and forget that we haven't always "known" these mountains. The truth is, I still haven't came close to climbing any of them...there is a depth and mystery of God that I will be forcefully pursuing until the day I leave this earth; He alone will deem me worthy of the peak.

Five of us went kayaking today and I enjoyed floating on the water. I was at peace relying on the physical laws that God created to keep me afloat. Those (along with the spiritual ones) have not failed me yet.

attacks from my past

The past few evenings have left me spiritually sluggish, as my dreams have fallen under attack. I look around my backyard to see the beautiful Grand Teton Mountains, which are an amazing sight...but I have found it incredibly difficult to focus on the task at hand; my subconscious appears to be fixated with other places. I've been down this road enough to know when the Enemy is at work. Still, it's rather frustrating, and my attention has been brought upon people and places that I haven't considered in years.

The common thread: my helplessness. Roughly ten years ago, I became aware of a "6th sense" that God had granted me -- a spiritual discernment to see past the surface of other people. I originally considered it a curse: my inclinations would always prove to be accurate, and I found myself suspicious of people whom others held in high regard. This was the most difficult impression to communicate; how do you warn people of the threat of evil, when the only shred of evidence is this mysterious intuition of God, which my loved ones may or may not acknowledge?

My recent dreams have returned me to warnings ignored. I see faces of people that I once loved...before they chose to fall captive to those that raised my mental red flag. I see their somber faces and their distance. They refuse to look at me. My last thought in the world is "I told you so," yet still they carry shame before me, as if to expect judgment from my eyes and lips.

In reality, all I long for is their FREEDOM. I yearn to see their tears redeemed into words of testimony -- for their cleanliness to speak of the Glory of God: a true understanding of grace that compels an expression of praise. How can I be so misunderstood? How are my own tears misinterpreted as hate?

I cast these cares upon the Lord, for I cannot remove the scales in my own strength. I cannot disengage the obstruction from their ears. And so I pray...I continually pray...