Zacchaeus

Jesus has been using the story of a wee little man named Zacchaeus (Luke 19) to melt my heart and mold something new in me.

I think sometimes we’re afraid to really share the depths of God’s love because we feel it’s important that people know they don’t deserve it and that He doesn’t approve of their sin. Like, Jesus loves you a lot, but don’t get too crazy!

But I’m pretty sure that deep down Zacchaeus knew he didn’t deserve love. He was a chief tax collector. He was a man who worked for Rome to take money from his people and give it to Rome. Not only that, but Zac sat on a mountain of money because he pocketed a lot of what he took. He was hated. By all means, this man was a complete slimeball. When I think of Zacchaeus, I picture Danny DeVito. I don’t know if Danny’s a slimeball too. But he’s short. I wonder if Zacchaeus was lonely. I wonder if he went home sad because he had all this money but no one wanted him. Until Jesus came to town.

Everyone had heard of Jesus. He was unlike anyone else. He healed, he liberated, and he was kind and generous and everything that Zacchaeus was not. When news spread that Jesus was going to pass through his hometown, it says that he went out into the streets because he was seeking to see who Jesus was. He couldn’t see because the crowds were so big and he was so small, so he ran ahead and climbed a tree to catch a glimpse of the famous Jesus of Nazareth.

Jesus, with a heart full of love, stopped at his tree and asked him by name to come down so he could stay at his house! I can’t imagine how Zacchaeus felt when Jesus called his name. The surprise and the joy he felt in being wanted. And not just by anyone, but by the kindest, most joyful, most loving man the world had ever seen. Everyone wanted a piece of Jesus. And Jesus gave himself to this crook.

It didn’t seem to matter to Jesus that Zacchaeus didn’t deserve to be called down from the tree. One encounter with the love of God turned this thief into a generous man. He ended up giving half of his money to the poor, and with the rest he restored fourfold to everyone what he took.

I think of the “worst of the worst” that live here in Baton Rouge. The crooks, the pimps, the failures, the dropouts, the addicts, the losers, the fools. And Jesus wants them all.

We are afraid that if we lavish the love of God on people, they will think somehow they did something to deserve it. But it’s not until the light turns on that we see what is dark and what is light.

I’m discovering that God’s love isn’t some fluffy Hollywood character. It is uncomfortably radical and has the power to change the leper’s spots and melt a heart of stone. And we get to spend an eternity discovering the depths of His heart. He never ceases to change me.

Geaux.

I am an LSU Tiger through and through. Pride rises in my heart at the sight of an LSU bumper sticker. Anyone wearing LSU gear is automatically an ally. I bleed purple and gold.

You might have heard about the ever-increasing tension between LSU and Alabama. I, being the Tiger that I am, have been trained for the past four years to hate all things Crimson. I have many loved ones from back home that love Alabama. I just pretend they don’t.

That said, I help lead worship for the Refuge, a wonderful college ministry at LSU. Refuge Band was invited to lead worship at a retreat for a college ministry at Alabama. Last weekend, we packed all our stuff in a trailer, hopped in a big old Yukon and made the long trek into enemy territory.

As we pulled in to the city, our drummer leaned out the window and belted “GEAUX TIGERS!!!” at the top of his lungs. As much as I don’t like Alabama, I was ashamed. We were those Tigers. Even still, there was crimson everywhere I looked. Clearly I needed to be on guard at all times.

Last weekend, I sang and played piano for a group of college kids that I didn’t know from a school that I’ve been trained to despise. But every wall of division in my heart melted to the floor as I saw their hands raised in worship and their hearts lost in the presence of God.

I got the honor to sit with a few of them and listen to their stories. I soon discovered that I was in a room full of brothers and sisters whose lives have been changed by the same Jesus who turned my own world completely upside down. It was humbling to say the least.

I will never root for Alabama.

But there is an added sweetness to my understanding that I am part of a beautiful story written by a beautiful God, who ransoms hearts from every tribe and nation and tongue and university.

Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all and is in all. Put on then as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness and patience.
Colossians 3:11-12

Grace and peace

Hope

Anchors Away!

Life is a whirlwind! Literally. Hurricane Isaac decided to sit on Louisiana for what seemed like forever. Pastor Kevin McKee said it wonderfully this morning: “Like a bad guest, it came late and stayed for far too long.”

I’m absolutely overwhelmed by the love of God. I came across something a couple days ago that sank like an anchor deep in my heart:

How precious is Your steadfast love, Oh God
the children of mankind take refuge in Your wings.
They are filled by the abundance of Your house
and You give them drink from the river of Your delights.
For with You is the fountain of life
and by Your light do we see light.

Psalm 36:7-9

This has not ceased to fill my heart with LIFE. That He crafted us to behold His power and glory, to be loved beyond our comprehension every moment of every day. He LOVES to fill us with His delight. His unending, irrevocable, sure love is our life and joy. It sure is fun to learn to walk in it!

Rest assured, God is using everything in your life to root you and build you in His love. (Colossians 2:6-7, Romans 8:28-29). Enjoy being His beloved today.

Grace and peace,
Hope

Twinkle.

I have a stuffed bunny that was given to me on the morning of my third Easter. I remember waking up and discovering the little white fluff ball nestled among the candies and chocolates in my basket. ‘Twas the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

I named him Twinkle.

I snuggled with him at night. I would wrap my arms around him as I fell asleep. He fit perfectly under my chin.

I took him along for show-and-tell in Ms. Anderson’s first grade class.

His arms were tied together with a little string, and my little wrist fit between his arms. So I would wear him as a bracelet and pretend to ice skate with him around the living room. I cried the day the string broke.

Nineteen years later, and he is still mine. His coat is weirdly yellow and matted. His nose was lost in a gruesome dog fight. His left ear is hanging by a thread. But I still love him.

There is nothing about Twinkle that is valuable. He wouldn’t even be worth 25 cents at a garage sale. But I would sell him for nothing less than a billion dollars because he is irreplaceable in my heart.

God doesn’t love us because we are valuable. We are valuable because God loves us. Everything about us flows from that.

Grace and peace,
Hope

My Affair with Charles Spurgeon

I went to China two summers ago. I saw God move in power, both in the students and in my own heart. And there was something that God began to show me there that has continued to burrow into my heart. I pray that it resonates with some of you inter-webs out there.

That summer, I had been reading some awesome stuff from the great Charles Spurgeon. I always wondered how these giants of the faith did it. How did they love God SO much? This guy would spend hours studying the Bible and even more hours in prayer. My devotion paled in comparison to dear Charles. I was bound and determined to live up to this challenge.

It was the second week and I was still adjusting to the crazy twelve-hour time change. (China is literally on the other side of the world, for those of you who didn’t know. I’ve seen Street Smarts. You’d be amazed at what people don’t know.)

I woke up at around 4:30am. Charles Spurgeon probably wakes up this early on purpose I thought to myself. I rolled out of bed, grabbed my Bible and journal and went in to the living room of our extra Chinese apartment.

It seemed appropriate to start my morning with some prayer. Charles Spurgeon probably prays on his knees with his face to the ground. I assumed the position. I figured that if I could pray like Charles Spurgeon, maybe I would eventually love God like Charles Spurgeon. Facedown on the floor, I waited for said love to come crashing down on me. Aaaaany minute now…

Fifteen minutes later, I decided I would try from a different angle. Charles Spurgeon knew his Bible like nobody’s business. I picked up my Bible and sat down at the kitchen table. It fell open to Romans 7. I read it. And then I read it again. And then I prayed and prayed for God to let me love Him. If God would just God let me feel His love, then it would make it much easier to read the Bible and pray all day. Surely, He knows this!

I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I began to weep. Think of the ugliest cry face and then slap it on mine. It was bad. Swollen eyes. Runny nose. The whole shebang. Romans 7 was sopped with tears. I finally gave up after an hour. The sun had risen and my roommates were beginning to stir. Clearly, God didn’t love me as much as He loved Charles.

I felt utterly rejected by God. I didn’t read or pray for days. I was too scared. However silly it sounds, my heart ached at the thought of going through that again.

A few days later I was riding the subway after a long day and I finally asked God what had happened that morning. He answered immediately.

I don’t want your Charles Spurgeon heart.

I beg Your pardon? It was so loud and clear in my heart, it was almost as if He actually spoke it into my ear.

I don’t want your Charles Spurgeon heart. I want YOU.

This began a new journey in my life. It was something I had never even considered. God was actaully doing me the favor of refusing to accept my devotion that morning because I wasn’t actually offering anything. I didn’t think He wanted me! My mind was too messy. My heart was too broken.

But in trying to be like Charles, I was actually hiding. Just like Adam and Eve’s fig leaves in Eden.

He told me something I hope I never forget.

Hope, I know who I am. I don’t need you to tell me. I don’t want your empty praise. What I want from you is to entrust your heart to Me. Your hopes, your fears, your anger, your joy, your sorrow, your dreams. No matter how ugly or shameful you think it is, I want it all. People give their hearts to the the ones they trust. It’s the most beautiful sacrifice you can offer.

Two summers later and I’m still learning this. But God has been so patient and so faithful every step of the way.

Yes, there is much that I can learn from Charles. But to try to be Charles is a crime of the highest degree. Do you know why? Because I was, in effect, telling God that who He made me to be was simply not enough. And He is kind and gracious to show me the truth:

It’s true. I’m not enough for God. He deserves more than you or I could ever give Him. But JESUS’s life is enough! And when he died and rose again, he gave us his “enough”. And then he gave us new hearts and made us children of God, to be loved to the absolute core. And because everything is forgiven under the blood of Jesus Christ, we can be fully known and fiercely loved. And so even though we aren’t perfect, we are enough.

Being His child means that I can bare the grossest, darkest things in me and He doesn’t look away in disgust. Instead, He looks directly at me without even wincing and says it’s forgiven. No more fig leaves.

Do you hear me? NO MORE FIG LEAVES. Naked and unashamed, baby! There is nothing more freeing than that. I have to quit hiding. Jesus died so that we wouldn’t have to hide. We have to quit hiding.

Fully known. Fiercely loved.

Gospel Community

We are all running this race together.

Together, we have this hope that we will be continually shaped into the image of Jesus, that the Kingdom of God will be growing in the world, that we are forgiven and loved, that one day we will spend eternity perfectly with the God who loves us.

So when we see a brother or sister who is drowning in sin, who has tripped and fallen, we restore them to this hope that keeps us going. When we are fumbling around through the darkness of the valley, we need people who have the view from the mountain to come alongside us. It requires humility from the valley to admit that we aren’t okay and actually let people in to the crap of our lives. And it requires humility from the mountain to not lord it over the valley, because they could just as easily be in the valley.

“God creates this environment, with our identity being found in him through the gospel, in which I am willing to engage you, and you are willing to engage me, as we see one another drowning, with gentleness, humility, grace, and a heart that, when all is said an done, is most interested in you walking fully in what Christ has died to bring you. That’s a beautiful community of faith.” (Matt Chandler)

The thing that is going to keep us from the fullness of this community is pride. When we look at someone engulfed in sin and let it puff us up because at least we are better off than that guy (guilty!), then it actually breaks community.

No one was meant to fight alone.

I pray that God would uproot the pride that is crippling the Church. I pray that he would start with me.

Grace and peace,

Hope

four years in ten minutes

God changed my life when I came to college. It’s impossible to adequately sum it all up in one little post. But I really wanted to share a little of the journey that God has taken me on so far.

You see, I came into college a very broken and insecure person. I thought God was more like my boss. I worked for my reward, for peace with God. And if I failed to do the work, I would certainly be fired, cast away, rejected. And let me tell you, my work was never enough. And I hated myself for it. I couldn’t do enough good in the world to get God to accept me. And so I was a constant failure. I was never satisfied because I felt like God was never satisfied. I cried a lot.

I finished my last college class yesterday. This chapter of my life is finally coming to a close. Four years. Four years of joy, love, anger, confusion, sorrow, pain, friendship. There were several times throughout those four years where I decided that my time here was done and I could finally move on. It makes me laugh every time I think about those times. Mostly because I know God laughs at those times too.

You know why these past four years have been the most transformational time of my life? Well, its partly because that’s just the nature of college. It’s fast-paced and furious. You are constantly meeting new people and learning new things that challenge everything you’ve ever believed about yourself, about others, about the world, about Jesus. And it forces you to decide what you really believe.

I decided to believe Jesus, and it changed me to the core. And that might be the most simple and least profound thing you’ve heard all day. But hear me out. I thought I knew all the right answers when I moved to Baton Rouge four years ago. I knew that God loved me. I knew that Jesus died in my place. But deep down I refused to believe it.

The problem was that I also refused to believe that I didn’t believe it. Good Christians are supposed to have all their shit together, right? I couldn’t possibly tell God that I didn’t believe Him! So instead of being honest with my doubts and fears, I hid them behind more piles of good Christian work.

I cried more nights that I could possibly count. I knew that I wasn’t good enough for God. After what seemed like thousands of tear-filled conversations with God, He spoke deep into my heart when I read Romans 4 about how Abraham was “fully convinced that God was able to do what he had promised”, and that was the faith that saved him. God challenged me to take Him at His word. To believe that I could be with Him and talk with Him and learn from Him and laugh with Him and be fully accepted and loved, no matter what I had or hadn’t done because Jesus literally BOUGHT our righteousness for us, paid it in full. He bought for me the peace with God that I could never afford, that I had been desperately searching for.

Does that make sense to anyone out there? We get to enjoy God. Fo’ free! It’s a constant relationship, moment by moment. Think about your best friend. Your relationship has been cultivated probably over several years. You have that depth of friendship because you have shared your lives together. You’ve had deep conversations, silly conversations, you spend time together, you laugh together, you’ve survived some awful fights, you weep together, and sometimes you don’t say anything at all. But every moment together serves to sweeten and deepen the friendship, no matter how trivial or painful the moment may be.

Clearly, I didn’t have that kind of relationship with Jesus when I came to college. But God is patient with us and gives us grace to believe really wrong things about Him. As I finally shared my fears and my hopes and my hurts with Him, He began to show me His heart. That He would never reject me, He would never leave me, He would never give up on me, and He would never fail me. He is faithful and true.

When I realized that God the Just was satisfied to look on Jesus and pardon me, it freed me to be satisfied with Jesus too. And it changed me through and through.

Share your life with Jesus. Take Him at His word. Prepare to be amazed.

Grace and peace,
Hope