sending a false signal

Satan is a jerkface.

We know that he feasts upon our insecurities, built on lies that he would have us believe. Within our own mess, we often miss the damage that Satan has done in the lives of others; we form false conclusions about our relationships based on our own perceived inadequacies without considering that both parties may be under complementary attack.

Here's one for you: I hate talking on the phone, and I equally despise making plans. I'm not sure if anyone else can relate with this, but I grew up with a dad that frowned upon bringing the outside world into our household. Having people over was a rare event -- my school friends were allowed to come inside less than ten times during my childhood, and I was made to feel like I had done something wrong whenever the phone rang for me.

I still recall receiving a call the summer before 8th grade. Having returned from an incredible week of church camp, some female campers of a neighboring school got my number from a male friend that attended their church. My dad picked up the phone and handed it to me with an intrusive glare, continuing to watch me as I held an awkward conversation with a girl that was interested in me.

Once I got wheels, the social dysfunction ceased, but only because my social base in high school and college was large enough to regularly have plans made by others. I conquered some of my phone anxiety due to my job and my first girlfriend, but I still don't like calling people that I don't know well in person.

Anyway, I don't share this to cast a dark shadow on my childhood -- my dad's issues make a lot of sense in light of what I know about him today. I bring this up because three unrelated friends have asked me in the past two months if I had cut them off because of something they had done.

The prime evidence: I hadn't called them.

It hurt because I know that each of these friends legitimately missed me. They view me as one willing to share spiritual truth, and they value my place in their lives. Worse, I knew that had any of them reached out to spend time with me, I would have accepted the invitation and enjoyed myself.

Each of them assumed a social and spiritual inferiority with me. While this is an unfounded deception, it fed the belief that I was choosing not to be friends with them anymore. I got this in college a lot: the kid who so easily makes friends couldn't possibly be waiting for anyone to call, could he? In my case, I was...I am. There wasn't isn't a pecking order in my mind; my best friends were are those that were are committed to transcending my insecurities by calling me first.

Want to know the crazy thing? I love introverted people. My favorite friends are those that have demonstrated their trust in me, offering the pieces of themselves that they don't often share. The most profound statements are made by those that save their words for important things; the greatest love is found through those that serve without receiving public reward.

Guess who's not calling me anytime soon...

It angers me that healthy relationships are cast with doubt because Satan plays our lies against one another. One solution is being open about my insecurities; the other is working through them. Being open will hopefully deliver some light in the short term, but I can't count on loved ones meeting me halfway. If these relationships mean something to me, I must continue to chip away at the root. As painful as it has been for God to bring this to my attention, He would not if He did not desire me to work through it. Clearly, I will need His strength; as sure as anything, I will be the timid 13-year-old when I make the call.

there's a lengthy post in my head...

However, I'm experiencing a Sabbath of sorts and don't feel like disturbing it. Who knew Antiques Roadshow would highlight my Saturday night? This might be the point of no return...

mahna mahna

Byron had to use a Fandango credit before it expired tomorrow; since he was traveling with family, he sent the code to me. I rarely go to the theater anymore, but I figured there was no harm in entertaining myself on a holiday weekend, particularly since it was free. I bought a ticket for The Muppets and decided to go solo.

Having been a childhood fan, Jason Segel approached Disney for the opportunity to write a new Muppets script. The result is an unashamed homage to Gen X culture (references are made to Tab, dial-up internet, Molly Ringwald, and Nirvana), skillfully woven through the traditional Muppet plot device: throw together a show to save the day.

Segel and Amy Adams (our best modern day Julie Andrews) do a fine job of keeping the movie light and child friendly. Unlike other "family" PGs of this era, The Muppets doesn't backdoor crudeness to interest the adult. If anything, the sentimental nature of the film sends Gen Xers to a more innocent time when sex, alcohol, and vulgarity weren't required to make us laugh. In one scene, the movie takes a shot at what the networks pitch as entertainment today.

I find this intriguing. Segel casts other buddies that grew up with the Muppets (Jack Black, NPH, Zach Galifianakis, etc.) -- all of them are comical without the overdone schtick. The critics have praised the movie thus far, which has me wondering: if a script like this can be written, why do we settle for a tasteless diet of entertainment?

We're not going to change a culture through boycotting; I'm not one to suggest anything for political reasons. Rather, I think believers should choose to separate themselves from adult comedy because it is of poor taste, and our comical appetites reflect what we've been digesting. Drawing a specific line is tough, but I'm tired of promoting movies for my friends with the accpeted asterisk: "You know, except there's one part in the movie where they [have sex, get wasted, go on a profanity rant]. Watch out for that."

I'm pleased to promote The Muppets without an asterisk, and I'm sorry that this is an exception.

stars among the black

As a night owl disciplining myself for the day, I was pleasantly surprised that the majority of the Black Friday shopping began at 12am this year. Is this commercialism at its worst? Yes. However, I was able to justify my midnight meandering...you know, since I would have been up anyway.

True story: when I was in college, I used to attend the early morning madness for no better reason than to "people watch." I'd find three or four CDs that were knocked under ten dollars, then wait in line for hours to save mere pennies. This ceased to do anything for me during my mid-twenties; during my barista years, I spent Black Friday in a methodical trance: grind, tamp, pull, steam, pour, "Thank you," rinse, grind, tamp, pull, steam, pour, "Thank you," rinse, grind, tamp...

[With the exception of the occasional, "Awwww...he made a leaf in my coffee!"]

Last evening was the first time in roughly ten years that I joined the chaos. I needed new jeans more than anything -- since I still refuse to pay more than $20 for a pair, I waited an hour at Old Navy to buy the only three existing pairs of straight-legged 32-30s and grabbed two pairs of cords while in line. All were half price, and as I already stated: I would have been up anyway!

As the weather gets chilly in Northern Indiana, the sky typically transitions into a perpetual state of overcast on account of the lake. These past two evenings have been uncharacteristically clear, with vibrant stars hanging over our world in magnificent display. Ursa Major points its way towards the North Star to my east; I peer right and see the brilliance of the planet Jupiter.

Over 1300 Earths would be required to fill the volume of Jupiter -- it's surface area is over 120 times the size of our terrain. It is the brightest star of the evening, but from this distance I can easily pinch its area between my thumb and index finger. Even with its might, Jupiter pales in comparison to the reach of God's full creation.

Because everyone in my circle has been talking about faith, I am reminded of the blessing the Lord bestowed on Abraham. After Abraham willingly places his son Isaac on the altar, the angel of the Lord tells him:

"I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you and make your descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as the sand on the seashore. Your descendants will take possession of the cities of their enemies, and through your offspring all nations on earth will be blessed, because you have obeyed me." (Genesis 22:16-18)

Bear in mind, Abraham's faith was not contingent on knowing that this was the payoff. His only hope and reassurance was in a single piece of truth: the same God who has created this vast universe will provide the sacrifice. I consider the desires that He has placed on my heart, and they feel so far away. When I acknowledge that there's only one wonderful thing on earth that I lack, it pains me to place it on the altar. God doesn't ask for my money, my career, my location, or my social interests. He knows that these are His. God is jealous for my intimacy because it is the only human thing I value.

Do I trust that the creator of Jupiter, the Big Dipper, and the North Star has provided the sacrifice with my intimacy on the altar? Do I believe that the piece of my heart I've held back for a woman would be honored in His hands instead? Provision has been such a tricky animal; He's offered me just enough to remain in Him, little enough that I continually yearn for heaven. This is indicative of His grace. But I can't help but wonder: if I trusted Him to provide for every need, wouldn't I give Him the last of me?

two realms

God created many things. He created the heavens and the earth. Angels are as much His creation as a tree or a turtle. Nothing was before Him, and nothing exists outside of His hand, whether physical or spiritual. Large, small, holy, or common: all of creation was effortlessly designed by His good will.

However, mankind is the only creation designed to interact and reside in the physical and spiritual realms. We have been given the faculties to reason through our five senses as well as discern and know spiritual things. The majority of us will choose to ignore or deny the latter. Those that do not will see a world vastly different.

I tell people all the time that there are some things you cannot un-experience. Having shared a room with a demon-possessed man and having seen the power and authority our Lord holds over this has changed me. I can no longer miss the enemy's tactics nor look past the spiritual death of the unbelieving world. When the reality of the spiritual realm is known, we are given the choice to engage or cower in fear. To those that resist its existence, the enemy is best served to maintain their ignorance.

Were you to travel to remote South America or Western Africa, you would struggle to find those that deny the spiritual realm. Witchcraft and idolatry is a daily part of life, and the people cannot question the existence of a spiritual realm. To them, the question is not if, but which one. Which lord demonstrates greater power than another? What is the personal benefit of worshiping that power? How do you not fear such a thing?

People from these countries do not want to be convinced of an Almighty God; they have been ruled by many others that manifested great power. They want to know whether your God holds ultimate authority over any principality that would oppress. Only then can He change their lives.

Consider that most American believers have never encountered their God in this way. We are told we have an enemy in scripture, but he too is a distant idea. All the while, the world is dying. Our ignorance or resistance is at the expense of enemy domain and acquisition; he builds strongholds while we interact with the physical like nothing is amiss. We do not see the lies that bind the world around us, yet we wonder what keeps mankind from accepting our God with open arms. We fight our battles in courtrooms while the enemy claims spiritual space. We gather for coffee and donuts while the dead reside outside our walls.

Without an enemy, we have no urgency. If salvation can be found through a good presentation, this is much easier than freeing the captive from a life of spiritual bondage. If the Christian life is good deeds, this is much cleaner than pleading the blood of Christ over the chained. We can walk away and feel good about our purpose; physically, this is perfectly suitable. But for those that cannot un-see the enemy's diligent hate, it's due time to fight the battle in your own backyard. Trust me, it's just beneath the surface.

but a vessel

A symbolic testimony I assumed, presumed to be the man that showed you otherwise. When she and I locked arms, it would demonstrate to the rest that He was redeeming: none considered lost, broken, or impure. Alas, I aged, awaiting the unknown restoration; I traded my pleasure for an unseen hope. No longer a symbol -- no longer qualified. She sustains the privilege of youth while I father her alone: not a lover or romancer, but a guardian of her innocence. And I wonder, for whom am I her keeper? What man bears the blessing of my tears and scars? Who will take her away once I have lifted her and eradicated my use? I shouldn't covet at this stage; one glimpse in the mirror tells a truer story. A million daughters without an ally: my heart cries for justice and rests here alone.

"ahhhh..." said the bachelor

Tis the satisfaction of a frozen pizza after two hours of raking leaves.

reconciling mercy and justice

Six months ago, I was reading Mere Christianity during my overnight shift and was confounded by this excerpt:

[On the indulgence of sex] I do not say that you and I are individually responsible for the present situation. Our ancestors have handed over to us organisms which are warped in this respect: and we grow up surrounded by propaganda in favour of unchastity. There are people who want to keep our sex instinct inflamed in order to make money out of us. Because, of course, a man with an obsession is a man who has very little sales-resistance. God knows our situation; He will not judge us as if we had no difficulties to overcome. What matters is the sincerity and perseverance of our will to overcome them. (Lewis 93, emphasis added)

I desire to handle this topic delicately. The extent of God's mercy has been theologically argued for hundreds of years, and the Greek philosophers debated issues of justice prior to the coming of Christ. This I know for sure: no matter how much C.S. Lewis or myself (I'm not even trying to make a comparison) communicate our understanding of mercy, I'm certain any such message will be tainted with human bias. The best I can do is allow the Spirit to speak as clearly as possible while humbly accepting rebuke from Him as well. Since Romans 9 has been debated without resolution since the protestant reformation, my aim is not to convince you of my point; rather, it is to sharpen your understanding of our Heavenly Father.

What then shall we say? Is God unjust? Not at all! For he says to Moses,

"I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion."

It does not, therefore, depend on man's desire or effort, but on God's mercy. For the Scripture says to Pharaoh: "I raised you up for this very purpose, that I might display my power in you and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth." Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden. (Romans 9:14-18)

Over the past year, this passage has become a wastebasket of sorts to justify the unexplainable circumstances in my life. Without seeking it, the issue of mercy has arrived in bible studies, church meetings, freedom sessions, and prayer. Sometimes, I feel like this characteristic of God is comparable to a parent answering "because" to the child's question of "why?" God's mercy (or lack thereof) ends the argument, yet often leaves us reeling for a more standardized yardstick.

In contrast, the human race loves law; we want to know the consequence for the crime. By placing lawlessness on a hierarchy, we can make decisions based on the standard for the whole. For example, since we live in a culture that accepts the indulgence of sexuality but condemns murder, we shape our laws to reflect the values of the whole. Likewise, Christians that consider their religious law to supercede the government's may drive 5 MPH over the limit to make it to church on time, or they might download a worship song they do not own to play in bible study.

However, were we to follow God's law for justification rather than out of obedience, we would be condemned. Few are condemned in the natural law for "speeding with the flow of traffic," but breaking "the least" of God's laws is cause for death. Truly, it is the irregular nature of God's mercy that allows any of us to live. Therefore, can we cry foul when He grants more mercy to some than He does for others?

I find solace in Lewis's words: not because it offers a more attainable standard, but because this is the Christ I see throughout the gospels. God will not judge me as if I had a compassionate father. He will not judge me as if I had a partner to bear my burdens. He will not judge me as if my environment was sexually pure, nor will he condemn me for confusion and doubt amidst structural chaos.

Likewise, I will be accountable for my assets. I will not be judged as if I hadn't grown up with His Word. I will not be judged as if I wasn't born into a rich nation. I will not be judged as if I had not received the privilege to experience a Spirit-filled work. God will search my heart according to the mercy He has granted me, and not the mercy or justice He has given someone else. For this, I am fully accountable.

And just when I think I understand this to a science, God will remind me that He knows better than I, offering the simple justification, "Because."

Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm:

"Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me. Would you discredit my justice? Would you condemn me to justify yourself? Do you have an arm like God's and can your voice thunder like his? Then adorn yourself with glory and splendor, and clothe yourself in honor and majesty. Unleash the fury of your wrath, look at every proud man and bring him low, look at every proud man and humble him, crush the wicked where they stand. Bury them all in the dust together; shroud their faces in the grave. Then I myself will admit to you that your own right hand can save you." (Job 40:6-14)

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Jesus answered, "If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me."

When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.

When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, "Who then can be saved?"

Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."

Peter answered him, "We have left everything to follow you! What then will there be for us?"

Jesus said to them, "I tell you the truth, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man sits on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first. (Matt. 19:21-30)

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Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny.

Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything -- all she had to live on." (Mark 12:41-44)

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Speak and act as those who are going to be judged by the law that gives freedom, because judgment without mercy will be shown to anyone who has not been merciful. Mercy triumphs over judgment! (James 2:12-13)

i'll call you "miss"...no offense

I stepped into Main Street after my team meeting for coffee and lunch. My former co-worker Beth was standing behind the counter and provided a smile when she spotted me.

"Good morning, miss," I greeted.

She replied, "Did you forget my name already?"

I've been referring to unmarried ladies as "miss" since I reached maturity myself. I like the sound of it. My female campers were "miss." My female math students were "miss." My younger co-workers were "miss." I know that we live in a culture and among a generation averse to terms of endearment or respect, but I feel that when I call someone "miss," it should be understood that I consider her a lady.

[But then, I have a resident that only calls me "sir" when she is growing impatient and demanding. When did the connotation of these terms become derogatory? I missed something...]

finding peace in uncertainty

Sometime in the next six months, there's a very good chance that I may lose my job. Our state government (the one so "concerned" with life) may cut our funding by 33%, even though our regulations auditor came in and said that he had never seen a more impressive therapy program in residential. Our people will likely sue the state to claim foul on such a backbreaking reduction, and the courts will decide our fate as an organization. In the meantime, I am to perform my duties as if my job -- more importantly, these kids' home -- is not in jeopardy.

You know what? I'm not worried about it. It's not a lack of concern based on ignorance; I know all the facts. I know that if He would rather these kids be in treatment than in a foster home, that He'll do His thing. But on a more personal note, God is teaching me that this vessel does not find its usefulness based on the role or target of its ministry.

Three years ago, I was perfectly content being the vessel of light to a coffeehouse filled with unbelieving people. And I loved them more than anyone I had loved before. I had worked hard to earn their respect through the manner Paul suggests to Titus: by living a self-controlled, diligent, and honorable lifestyle that would shame those that would accuse me of doing otherwise. I can walk into Picasso's and generate the same respect from my employer and co-workers. But as God called me from that place in the summer of 2009, I wrestled with one giant insecurity: not a single one of them was saved.

Is it irresponsible to move forward when I do not receive the "fruits of my labor"? I once thought this was so. When I prepared to leave my final youth pastoring position in 2006, I waited until every duck was in a row. I thought to myself, "When this class graduates, and this kid is standing on a firm foundation, and this person is ready to pick up the slack, etc...then I will be ready to move to the next work God has for me." In reality, my blessing was stripped. Had I left nine months earlier when God prompted me, I would have removed myself from the dissension that was to follow. God brought me to Oak Grove to heal, yet I spent the final 12 months of my ministry putting out fires. It wasn't my work any longer.

A good part of demonstrating faith is trusting that God loves His children even more than we love those we are serving, and if He asks us to sever the relationships, regardless of how much we have invested our own hearts, this is a good thing. If my life is to be a "master tiller" for the laborers that would bring in the harvest, so be it.

God used the weekend in St. Louis to show me that life does continue without me, and He will continue to use others to bring my loved ones to a greater understanding of Him. Likewise, if my role to the young ladies I work with is to offer their first glimpse of salt and light, I can trust that a loving Father will continue to apprehend their hearts with other willing vessels. As much as I'd love to prevent my girls from experiencing further pain, it is God's purposes and not my protection that will reconcile their hearts to Him.

As for this vessel, there will always be another job and another set of vulnerable children that need the love of Christ. If I present myself willing rather than irreplaceable, I have few doubts that God will choose the best use of that willingness.

the supremacy of obedience

Byron and I spent the weekend in St. Louis catching up with the many ways that God is at work in the inner-city. Our church body has learned the benefit of living communally, and each missionary has sacrificed his or her own wants for the sake of what is needed today. When God's people trust Him to provide for their every need, the body is not left wanting the things of this world.

I've expressed my struggle with being physically separated from my brothers and sisters. Since God has allowed me to share in the Spirit's move among this church, I have tried desperately in my flesh to duplicate this work, based on the fruit I felt I should reap. How should I respond if He desires me to serve faithfully from a "lower" position?

Having been invited to teach this weekend, I experienced conflict between the pride of my identity and the simple act of obedience. What if my body no longer finds me useful? What if my gifts and skills aren't up to the task of building the same environment here? What if He wants nothing more than for me to bury myself in scripture? What if the training He has anointed me to write will never be mine to teach? What if this vision is never fulfilled in my lifetime?

Am I okay with a humble position and legacy?

Hebrews 11 tells us of many who lived by faith but never reaped the fruit of their own labor. They are honored not for the size of their impact, but for their obedience. Many of us spend years chasing the one thing we know we are created to do; this pursuit is perpetuated by Christian literature, skills tests, and the church itself. Those that do find their "identity" sit around, waiting for the opportunity to be useful, shirking the responsibility of any act of obedience that does not perfectly fit their individual anointing. They sit, and they sit, and they sit, and they sit...

What if you saw God behind a movement and accepted whatever task was necessary to advance His Kingdom? What if this meant submitting to another authority? What if this required you to serve "below" your individual sense of purpose? Would you trust Him anyway? Are you willing to let God break up your short-term plans or ask you to accomplish a menial task if it is what the church needs? Or is your role more important than His timing?

This is the true act of faith: to walk in hope and obedience, even when you cannot see how the task He's given you will lead to your vision being fulfilled. I could whine about being asked today to spend my hours in study rather than gathering the harvest or complain that the task isn't important enough. The alternative is to trust that whatever He asks of me is crucial to His work, He knowing better than I what is necessary to fulfill His plan.

support

I'm heading to St. Louis this morning to see my church body and do a little teaching. It'll be good to feel like an attached limb once again.

my job is occasionally cooler than yours

Have you ever been paid to watch My Girl with teenagers?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

This unique experience elicited a limitless chain reaction of further reflection. Such as...

1. Had Vada Sultenfuss attended my grade school, I would've done everything in my power to keep my distance from her, and failed miserably when my curiosity got the best of me. Over the next three years, countless futile attempts would be made to convince my friends that I didn't like her.
2. In the summer of 1999, a My Girl marathon inspired my friend Gene and I to Yahoo search "Anna Chlumsky." This is significant because obscure celebrity information was just beginning to become available on the internet, and Chlumsky would become the first of roughly 792 actors that I have since referenced. How badly did I care to know her story? Two words: dial up.
3. Chlumsky and Macauley Culkin were both 11-year-olds at the time of release, having played 11-year-olds in the movie. Were My Girl to be filmed today, two 15-year-old Disney stars would be cast solely to sell the accompanying soundtrack. In the modern entertainment age, there will never be a true child actor receiving the widespread acclaim that Culkin did during the early 90s.
4. My Girl belongs to a short list of movies of which a viewer cannot in good conscience make fun of another for crying.
5. Apparently, Dan Aykroyd revealed that a third movie was being considered as recently as 2004, awaiting Chlumsky's return to the big screen. I love the idea on paper, but I don't see it turning out well. I wonder which 30ish actor would play her love interest -- probably some Topher Grace like character. I pass.

desire and envy

The predominant thought on my mind this week:

What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don't they come from your desires that battle within you? You want something but don't get it. You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want. You quarrel and fight. You do not have, because you do not ask God. When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures.

You adulterous people, don't you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God. Or do you think Scripture says without reason that the spirit he caused to live in us envies intensely? But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:

“God opposes the proud
but gives grace to the humble.”

Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. (James 4:1-10)

I struggle to see things aside from what is black and white; how do I know the difference between the desires He places on my heart and those constructed through worldly motives?

As my work has consumed my emotional energy of late, I've noticed my desire for anything of my own has remarkably dwindled. This has occurred at least three times in my life -- when I offer myself solely to the needs of others, I no longer feel grief for what I lack. But I've yet to determine if this is good or holy...

I don't want to serve others purely as a distraction, nor should I kill my flesh so that I cannot feel. It's hard, because this method has its use. When I forget myself entirely, I deny the reality that I long for certain blessings; I feel the fulfillment of serving without the vulnerability of possessing worldly things.

However, this passage bewilders me. James appears to be encouraging us to mourn for the hopelessness of the world so that God can lift us with joy and blessings of His own. Hence the enigma of v. 2-3: how do we know when we should be asking for the blessings He desires to bestow and when to deny the lustful requests that our own hearts have fabricated?

Anybody have a word out there?

employee of the month

I'll try to keep this short; I should already be in bed...

Today I received my third "Employee of the Month" award in my twenty-three months at FCC. While we are fairly diplomatic with our nominations, I admit feeling a bit of pride for this one, receiving it during the first month of my new shift. Working 12-hour days with troubled teens has made me feel incredibly inadequate, so it's nice to know that the trials are being noticed. It can be difficult for me to receive a compliment, but I've found it much easier to accept in an environment that requires the killing of my flesh to succeed.

During group tonight, my co-worker and I had to fend off some staff bashing. Let me say, I have received the blessing of being paired with one of the most selfless direct-care workers I have ever met. The girls are beginning to notice a stark contrast between our shift and others, and one girl even went so far as to state that she spends the weekend waiting for Sunday when we return. Rather than feeding their negativity or our egos, we asked them to explain the difference, so that we could work harder to equally meet their needs.

Their answer? Empathy.

I know that the love of Christ is doing transformational stuff in my life, because I cannot comprehend how five girls who have been emotionally neglected, sexually abused, and substance dependent can appreciate me for being empathetic. I had grown up believing that the difference between sympathy and empathy was experience, that we cannot empathize with a situation we have not endured. Perhaps this is true on our own. But we serve and know the perfect love of a High Priest that has walked in this flesh, and His Spirit has granted us the privilege of pouring out the overflow of His love.

The world yearns for a Body that cares enough to actively listen and empathize with its mess. Quick solutions and comforting statements are not the answer; people need to know that while their dysfunction is real, our God is bigger. If we are too focused on ourselves or our own wisdom to notice, the lost will never know His love: the life-changing truth that sets us free, turning our once painful story into a testimony of His grace.