Source: Time & Earthquakes
Recalling today the challenges and changes of “post-collegiate learning” through international travel with my family. What. a. LIFE. Possible plans are presently being discussed with a Chinese leader (and family-friend) who wants us to share with students at Harbin University next month. Here’s to the adventure of living on the edge.
This is a repost I felt to be highly appropriate as we watch the continued political war we’re witnessing this week as we get closer to the November elections. I’ve also experienced a couple things that emphasized again to me the truly twisted nature of domination and competition on a personal level. Our systems and mindsets are broken but there’s still hope… there’s always hope.
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Competition motivates us.
We have to run smarter, faster, better, healthier, and happier than anyone we know. It’s not a question of want; it’s an inbred need, a driving desire and a very natural one, I might add.
A girl gets a degree to earn the edge she uses to divide whatever comes between her and the pursuit of happiness. A guy fights his way up the ladder in his given field leaving some hung on the rungs behind. It’s not his fault, of course; it just the order and way of life. He’s just better at what he does, that’s all.
A girl marries… maybe because she thinks she’s in-love but also to lose a stigma and gain a status. If the guy is fortunate in his choice, he’ll be further validated by his partner’s beauty, intellect, or adoration. Both of them want everyone to know they have what it takes to get what they want out of life. This is only natural.
How appropriate that Darwin classified biological processes as “natural” selection. Life and all its rewards are just a matter of “survival of the fittest” right? Ecology, capitalism, socialism, and communism are all different levels of the same concept; from the lowest, most instinctual behaviors to the highest powers, humanity competes for the most and best of everything.
This was on my mind a great deal this week as I was watching the competition being waged over the U.S. presidency. My academic discipline is based on rhetoric and debate so politics still maintains a high degree of priority in my thoughts and attention. On a global scale, competition between the nations is rising as countries like Iran and Israel continue to face off in the Middle East and countries like Russia and North Korea acquire weaponry in the growing shadow of China. The battling titans seem to eclipse any lesser rivalries but those everyday challenges still feel like a big deal to those of us living with them, don’t they?
A girl is often thought more beautiful or desirable if the guys are battling it out for her attention; a guy is usually considered more respectable if he’s better than other men in business, athletics, music, engineering, etc. You have to compete to get a job; you have to compete for scholarships; you have to compete for status or the symbols representing it; sometimes you have to compete for love from family, friends, or peers. Even churches are competing against one another for higher attendance numbers and better overseas missions programs. Whether or not we’re cognizant of it all the time, contention, antagonism, and rivalry are a normal part of our day-to-day lives. Society is built on dissatisfaction, envy, and competition.
How does this fit with the verse in Philippians that says, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit but in humility consider others better than yourselves”? I remember a professor telling me a couple years ago that competition wasn’t “in the nature of our Lord Jesus.” I hadn’t thought about that before. I suppose I always considered competition a good thing.
Growing up, my family loved games. My grandpa and I would poke fun at each other over Risk or Scrabble as we tried to dominate the board. My brothers still love to play Super Mario Brawl matches. I’ve competed for jobs, scholarships, and awards; I run 10k races every year. We have sometimes called it “playing for blood” when competition gets intense. My extended family values sports and team competition as character building exercises and become maniacs… literally exemplifying borderline insane obsession… during football season especially if it’s Ohio State football. Ultimately, I have to admit I understand. Who doesn’t love the feeling of taking first place or the pride of having supported the winners before they won?
Then I remember… my idea of winning is different from God’s. “The first will be last?! Are you kidding?” Matthew 20 sounds like ridiculous, confusing, double talk if your spiritual eyes are closed but the Bible IS the ultimate knowledge foundation so… openness and a willingness to try is a start. When Jesus said “if anyone wants to be first, he must be… the servant of all” in Mark 9, even though it sounds foreign to a culture that values liberal dominance and selfish assertiveness, we realize culture obviously doesn’t have the answers; it’s always changing the standard (beauty, fashion, gender roles, food portions, movie rating criteria, etc.) You know what I’m talking about. One thing hasn’t changed; according to any “normal” person fighting to live life in the 6th century B.C., death on a cross looked like the most painful, abysmal failure of all time. It would probably still look that way today. However, in reality, that event was the most incredible victory in history. One side was playing for blood, the other side paid in blood. Ironically, the side playing for blood lost.
Now, when I think about survival of the fittest I think of the verse that says “whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.” (Luke 9:24) Our biggest challenge is in getting the FACT that our heads are a mess. We only think we’re clever. The only way to fix us is to “give [our] bodies to God for all he’s done for [us]… don’t copy the behaviors and customs of this world but let God transform into a new person by changing the way you think.” (Rom. 12:1-3)
Have you ever felt like you were the only one aware of something extremely dangerous? How about one of those situations where a person you really cared about was doing something you knew was going to hurt them, their family, or someone else? Naturally, you tried to speak with them rationally (hoping they would see reason); you lovingly entreated them; and you even went so far as to make ultimatums but, for better or worse, they had their own decisions to make. You couldn’t do anything. It was a desperate and powerless feeling. All you could do was pray.
Poetry has the uncanny ability of communicating in the most vivid colors the feelings and pictures we see in our mind’s eye when our emotions are at their height. Tennyson’s poem “The Lotus Eaters” based on book nine of Homer’s epic tale,
The Odyssey, describes the journey of Odysseus’ men into apathy after casually consuming a plant given to them by an island’s inhabitants. It’s a little known part of Homer’s story but the message is pretty significant. We still see the Lotus Eaters in our world today.
Odysseus’ men had been anxiously working to get home but the leaves the Lotus Eaters fed them relaxed them into blissful, careless euphoria, like Dorothy’s encounter with the field of poppies on her way to see the Wizard of Oz. Completely unaware of the danger, the men fall into a numb, dream-like state where they no longer care about anything or anyone:
| “Branches they bore of that enchanted stem, |
| Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave |
| To each, but whoso did receive of them |
| And taste, to him the gushing of the wave |
| Far far away did seem to mourn and rave |
| On alien shores; and if his fellow spake, |
| His voice was thin, as voices from the grave; |
| And deep-asleep he seem’d, yet all awake, |
| And music in his ears his beating heart did make… |
| They sat them down upon the yellow sand, |
| Between the sun and moon upon the shore; |
| And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland, |
| Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore |
| Most weary seem’d the sea, weary the oar, |
| Weary the wandering fields of barren foam. |
| Then some one said, “We will return no more;” |
| And all at once they sang, “Our island home |
| Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.” |
In Homer’s story, Odysseus saved his men. He was alone in his understanding of what had happened and the fact that his men were living in a death-like stupor no longer caring for their families or homes. He pulled them back to his ship where he chained them on deck, crying and fasting, until their minds and bodies were free of the lotus flowers’ effect.
Sadly, a full-scale intervention like this is nearly impossible today. How often are we argued out of our position against a harmful practice because “what’s right for you, isn’t right for me.” Relativism is rubbed in our faces as people, even those we love, make their choices without regard for anyone’s happiness but their own. (Ironically, the selfish choices we make in an effort to secure happiness result in total loneliness. A sad pay-off but appropriately due the one who lives for self alone.) Either what’s true is true for everyone or it isn’t true at all!
The Bible often refers to the remnant (the few) of God’s people; like Odysseus, they’re the ones who haven’t eaten the lotus, whose eyes aren’t clouded by sleepiness and who are awake to God’s wisdom, like it talks about in I Corinthians 2. “This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words. The man without the Spirit doesn’t accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he can’t understand them; they are spiritually discerned.”
In the mind of the dude tripping out on lotus leaves, talk of Jesus or anything important would have to sound like idiocy; he may even get mad at you for trying to stir him up. The same is true of people we’re surrounded by every day consuming messages that don’t align with the absolute Truth of God’s Word. Are we one of those that says, “man, you’re way too excited about this stuff… chill out” or are we fully awake and passionately recognizing what’s important to God (those things that are “spiritually discerned”)? I guess what I’m really asking is, do we know the Truth or do we just think we know? There’s a BIG difference.
Most of us faithful, church-going Christian students and adults think we’re doing great if we participate in normal weekly church activities. What about those brownie points we wrack up for getting really involved and teaching Sunday school or taking food to the homeless shelter every week. We do our best and then God’s grace covers the rest, right? Paul put it this way: “What are we gonna say, then? Will we go on sinning so that grace may increase? Of course not! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?” (Romans 6)
Death. That’s how heavy and final a reality the truth of this is. What are you willing to sacrifice? If we’re not willing to give everything, (and you may think I’m going out on a radical limb to say this but…) we’re not alert enough.
We need to get back to the wakeful state of carefully assessing all our actions in light of scripture. We have a motive for everything we do… we’d better know what that is; it matters to God. Do you know how many decisions you make in a day? HUNDREDS. What are we thinking, doing, hoping, watching, reading, and planning? Who are we living for if these decisions told our life’s story? And, just so you know, THEY DO.
This all sounds intense and may be more than you want to deal with but, as always, the best choices aren’t the easy ones and the most valuable gifts in life require a ton of work to attain – if it was easy, it wouldn’t be valuable, would it? (“…continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling” – Philippians 2). If we get so exhausted from working to do things right that we just want to quit because it’s so ridiculously impossible and hard, TURN ON THE COFFEE! Why do you think Paul describes the Christian life as a RACE? If you burn out, you don’t finish and you certainly don’t win. How can anyone who truly understands the Gospel of Jesus Christ NOT live on the edge of their seat working constantly to become more like Him, trying to shake awake as many people as we possibly can along the way?
The lotus leaves, whatever they represent in our lives, put us on the sidelines; they disqualify us. Like an Olympian athlete on drugs, you can kiss that gold medal goodbye. Forget heaven, forget eternal life, and FORGET being close to Jesus, who made us (are we forgetting? do we care?)… like the story of the Tortoise and the Hair, we’ll lose if we sleep through the time we’ve been given in this life, regardless of how gifted or sure of ourselves we are.
“It’s like a man going away on a trip: when he left home, he gave each of his servants instructions about the work they were to do, and told the gatekeeper to watch for his return. You, too, must keep watch! For you don’t know when the master of the house will return—in the evening, at midnight, before dawn, or at daybreak. Don’t let him find you sleeping when he arrives without warning. I say to you what I say to everyone: Watch!!” (Mark 13)
So which category do you think you’d be in if your story was immortalized in poetry today? Does the reasoning and loving entreaty you’ve read here sound like idiocy or wisdom to you?
Can anyone ever put a dollar amount on time or freedom? They’re commodities too valuable for a limited measure. Last weekend, a precious, little Vietnamese grandma told me through a translator, “Money would never be enough to pay you for your gifts and your time; you receive what is without price. Your family’s reward is the hearts of people. Tell your parents and siblings I said this, okay?” Her words meant the world to me. In many ways, she was right. Why would we choose to live such an unpredictable, crazy life if it wasn’t for other people?
The midwest U.S. to Asia has been a commonly traveled path for my family these days. We’ve been etching our own silk road in the air over the Pacific for a few years. Home has now been either a distant memory or the hope of future rest in the comfort of familiar 
surroundings. Since we got back to the U.S. nearly a month ago now, we’ve barely slept in our own beds but have instead been out traveling in nearby states.
This week we were in Pennsylvania and the Washington D.C. beltway. Many of the most historic sites in the country are in the cities we just visited: Gettysburg, D.C., Philadelphia, etc. Ironically, not only have we been reliving the emotions and struggles of our founding fathers by visiting monuments and battlefields but we’ve been sharing our hearts and future with the Vietnamese people here. It’s been a remarkable interweaving of cultures and the past, present, and future of freedom physically and spiritually. We just
came from a battlefield in their homeland for the hearts and minds of their people. What’s even more beautiful and precious, as our dear Vietnamese grandma said, is that the relationships built in this exchange have been more priceless and lasting than the original Declaration of Independence or U.S. Constitution that we saw carefully preserved at the National Archives.
Despite how committed and serious all this sounds, bubble tea, bowling, and music were the ways these relationships manifest themselves. My siblings and I have found that those three things are a common thread between the Asian populations of the east and west coasts of this country. We’ve made more memories drinking tapioca balls and throwing gutter balls than I’d imagine most people have. Oh, and I almost forgot the photo ops with faces framed in peace signs. “One more!” are the two most common words in any Asian’s vocabulary (and, through many years of association, ours as well). Loosely translated it means, “Keep pushing the shutter release until your finger hurts.”
It all started at Vietnamese youth camp in New Freedom, PA. two weeks ago. We didn’t know what to expect. Camps are usually pretty straightforward but with the Vietnamese we’ve come to realize nothing is ordinary. In this case, our experience in New Freedom raised the bar in our minds about what a camp is supposed to encourage in kids. The only
programmed activities were Bible based and required a lot of focused discussion. My family was in charge of the evening chapels and each of us doubled as group counselors for about 15 kids from the ages of 13 to 30 during the day.
After spending time together all day and most of every night, we felt closer to our group than most people get to one another in such a short period of time. Discussion and devotions brought out deep questions and hurts as if God had already been preparing their hearts for healing. We saw first-time decisions for Jesus Christ and even more commitments to purity and higher standards.
A few days later, we looked up our new friends in their home town and found them in the rougher parts of Philly. Many of them have been shot, mugged, attacked with knives, and pushed around since they were children. Even still, they’ve got the hope of something better because of the fact that “If anyone is in Christ, they’re a new creation” (2 Cor. 5:17). 
They’d never visited the historic sites in the area and, between bubble tea in China town until the wee hours of the morning, bowling, and music, we walked all over Independence Hall and the new home of the Liberty Bell. It was a profound reminder of how freedom is born. As Abraham Lincoln later claimed, it all begins “in the minds and hearts of the people.”
At the Vietnam memorial in Philly, we were struck by the fact that had our men in uniform
not shed their blood for Vietnam, we would never have known Vinh, Peter, Tiffany, Shannon, Rachel, Nhi, Emperor, Andy, Viet, David, Vi Ba, Huong, Khoa… several of whom were standing with us in downtown Philadelphia looking at the names of the men who died on their behalf. Without the sacrifice now commemorated in rows of names etched across the granite wall, fewer Vietnamese would have known about the spiritual freedom in Jesus that makes all of us family today despite our different cultural backgrounds.
When they hugged us goodbye in the lobby of our hotel at 2:30 AM on our last night and said, “You guys have made a significant impact on us,” I couldn’t help the intense mist that clouded my eyes. I said, “Funny thing about that… you guys did the same to us.” I pray we never lose the capacity to touch and be touched like that. It really is a reward you can’t measure. If my family were to receive nothing else, it would be worth every mile and moment. See you all again soon.
My Grandpa has been known to say incredibly profound things like “If it doesn’t make your flesh nervous, it doesn’t require much faith.” He is a deeply humble man, an author, and an evangelist with a doctorate of theology who still has a tendency to school me in normal conversation. I have always loved him for it. His favorite phrase when I would ask him a question or request a definition of a big word was “Go look it up!” He knew that if I did, I would remember the answer because I had worked for it. As someone who has grown up knowing Jesus Christ and serving Him consistently from an early age, I spent a lot of time “looking up” answers to questions in my Bible. I thought faith and prayer were two areas where I had pretty solid understanding and discipline. I could not have been more wrong.
Like my Grandpa, God is still schooling me in normal conversation with Him. While I was reading in Matthew 8 this week, I was struck by God’s desire for greater faith from me. As a single, college graduate without debt, I have felt a lot of freedom to accomplish whatever it is that God would give me an opportunity to do, including ministry and missions. If I am being honest with myself, this has not actually required much faith from me. I grew up in a ministry lifestyle. It’s like being in the military in a lot of ways. Your life does not belong to you and you follow orders. It’s a driving passion but it becomes your ‘normal.’ In keeping with this fact, my prayer life has been rather “mild” until recently. Sometimes God enjoys instigating adventures that spice up our relationship with Him.
In terms of relationships with other people, ministry, and work, I have been a communicator of the Gospel (a soldier) first and, then, who I am as a friend, a reporter for the newspaper, a leader, a daughter, and a sister have all seamlessly intersected that role. Even writing for the newspaper has offered unprecedented opportunities to serve the community and pray with people or share my faith every week. It’s a life consistent with everything I value. Straightforward. Real. It is amazing, however, when God knocks on your heart and sets you on a journey that goes far beyond anything you would expect to accomplish on your own. The commencement of a masters program, the many thousands of dollars it requires, and the dedication of my time to the pursuit of personal spiritual development has almost frightened me (just the word “seminary” gives me the heebie jeebies – when I was a child, I remember my pastor calling it “cemetery” because of how it can kill your passion and turn it into an “ology”). I guess you could say I am accustomed to putting ministry first and the idea of putting time and money toward a degree was not a plan I in any way conceived on my own. I thought I was skilled in putting my flesh to death until a couple months ago when I registered for my first classes in a Masters of Divinity. My dedication to prayer has gone from mild to intense in a matter of weeks.
I read the account in Matthew 8 of the centurion who approached Jesus on behalf of his sick servant. Although I have read these passages in Matthew numerous times, the centurion’s story gripped me this week like never before. I was in his shoes (or sandals) this time, looking to Jesus to help me as I disciple and teach precious believers, several of whom are struggling with so much sickness in their spirits. I want it to be said of my faith, like it was said of the centurion, “Jesus was amazed.” (Matthew 8:10) God gave me clear direction in pursuing a deeper understanding of His word through a Masters of Divinity program. I’ve stepped out in obedience but it has shaken me to the core. The confident faith of the centurion has yet to rise up in me.
In an older translation of Psalm 3:6 I read this week, it said, “I will not fear the tens of thousands drawn against me on every side.” The author was speaking of physical assailants but, in the moment I read it, I understood that I should not fear the “tens of thousands drawn against me” financially. This is not a pursuit of the flesh; it is a pursuit of the Spirit. In that, 1 Corinthians 4:16-18 applies when it says, “Therefore, we do not lose heart; though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day, for our light and momentary struggles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix out eyes not on what is seen but what is unseen because what is seen is temporary. What is unseen is eternal.”
When I was a 3-year-old child, I recorded an album with various Sunday school songs and hymns on it. My father had gotten the recording out this week and was playing it for my infant nephew. One of the songs on that album is based off 2 Chronicles 20:15 and repeated the refrain to me in my 3-year-old voice, “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid for the battle is not yours but it’s God’s.” That child-like confidence in God is something I have needed to rediscover. When Jesus said in Matthew 18:4 “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven,” He was talking about innocent trust and dependency. Although it seems counter-intuitive to find child-like trust in the pursuit of a Masters degree, God loves to take his children on surprising field trips to help them understand that He is completely in control. Yes, I’m still being schooled in my faith but I’m okay with that.
Deuteronomy 4 says “…watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.”
January 20, 2010: Coming home from Hong Kong
I’m sitting right now overlooking the road coming into O’Hare Airport from the terminal waiting area at Gate B22. Our flight to Dayton was rescheduled because we missed the 1PM departure but we were thankful for the extra time and the suspended pressure. I just had a Starbucks cappuccino and a double shot of Jamba Juice wheatgrass but I still feel like I’m in a hazy, sluggish limbo. My limbs and eyelids feel much heavier than normal as if the pull of gravity increased proportionally to the loss of hours.
When we landed on the runway in Chicago I felt like standing and singing America the Beautiful but when we entered the airport, I felt just as much like a foreigner as I did anywhere in Asia. I didn’t hear any true English spoken by anyone and there were more people who were black and Hispanic employed in airport security and immigration than there were people who looked at all like me. Airport employees were loud, large, and pushy – the antithesis of every Asian in airports I’ve been in over the past 2 months. It’s amazing to feel like a foreigner in one’s own country. The more countries I visit, spending time with the people and learning their cultures, the less I feel like I belong or fit in the United States or any other country. The blessings of our country have been unparalleled and I would never choose another place to call home but the feelings of belonging here are gone. I also realize we’re not supposed to feel like we fit. It’s a poignant reminder that this is not my home.
Over the past two months:
I witnessed over 20,000 people come to faith in Jesus Christ and worshiped in house churches suppressed by government regulation.
My family sang about Jesus Christ in a country that has not allowed a 
single foreigner (even in a SECULAR venue) to share in public since the 1950s; what’s even more amazing is that it wasn’t just a small group but a group of 45,000 people!
I personally prayed with Malaysians, Thai, Indonesians, Filipinos, Vietnamese, Australians, British, Chinese, and Indians.
I rang in 2010 singing familiar praise and worship songs in 8 or 9 different languages, sharing communion, and eating foods from all over the world.
My family and I stood on top of Victoria’s Peak with friends on New Year’s Day and prayed over Hong Kong as a gateway city and port of China.
I stood at the door of a church three days after it and 7 other churches were bombed by Islamic terrorists in Kuala Lumpur and my family and friends prayed for God to bring revival to Malaysia (We didn’t even know we were GOING to Malaysia until a week before!).
I did ministry with my family in a Muslim nation for the first time ever and prayed with precious people at the altar.
I ate in people’s homes, went to their favorite hang outs, slept in too many different beds to count for too few hours, played games, teased, sang, danced, and felt the peace and presence of God in places of heavy spiritual battle and intense persecution.
The most incredible part of it all… none of these things happened because of me or my 
family or our gifts or our connections. Had we found the best promoter on the planet, we could not have humanly organized the connections and events that took place so quickly. It was nothing but the grace and favor of God! I get teary and overwhelmed thinking about it, especially if I look back over the past 12 months.
2009 was a hard year. I realized in so many ways how one blind or selfish choice could change my life forever and remove capacity for ministry or powerful destiny. With how many times I’ve questioned God and his direction for my life, I don’t deserve for him to bless me… I even questioned continued involvement with my family in this ministry this past year. However, I do recognize that I HAVE TO be faithful and look for God’s best even if it’s not an idea I came up with for myself. Praise God for his faithfulness to us even when we don’t deserve it.
All that being said, the past two months obviously had nothing do with us but God uses very flawed, dedicated soldiers. You just do what you have to do. What good are gifts if you hold onto them or selfishly use them to further your own ambitions? God disciplines you mind, body, and spirit and then commissions you into active service. I think this is what God is calling for when he says we have to die; Dying to oneself is choosing something you don’t want and didn’t ask for and finding that the sacrifice doesn’t even compare to the reward.
What an amazing God we serve. Without his direction my aims are pointless. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to see people love and serve him.
Repost from April 25, 2010
Because David Letterman already has the copyright on the top 10 list, I’ve decided to do my own thing and make it twice as good with a Top 20. Click on the links to see posts detailing some of the reasons behind each one – these are all born out of the experience of one insatiably inquisitive redhead:
Speaking the truth is never easy but always right. It's absolute, unbending, and should never be sacrificed for our comfort; rather, comfort should be taken in having held it close and raised it high even through persecution. In the end, the reward will far outweigh the cost (II Corinthians 4:13-18).
