Broken Lives are Made New

This line is from a song we sang tonight at the welcome chapel: "In Your Kingdom broken lives are made new...You make us new." It's a familiar song--"Hosanna" by Paul Baloche--but it just became one of my favorites. There are songs you sing to God that describe attributes of Him; there are songs you sing to God that praise Him DIRECTLY. There are songs that narrate our own journey, there are songs that request and pray... and then there are the songs that do all of those things--and in a way that flows naturally from the heart of the worshiper. "Hosanna" was one of those songs tonight that, as a leader of songs sung to God, I found flowing out of my heart, mind, and mouth as a genuine praise and prayer for our Simpson community this year. I came to find I'm not the only one who lifted up the "broken lives are made new" phrase over our campus tonight. A few of us recognize this call for God's Kingdom to intersect and heal the oppressed of this generation--and indeed It does. We recognize that He is stirring up hope and turning eyes to Himself; we know that we are yearning for Him. We know that "Hosanna" means "Save!" and that He most assuredly is our Savior...


We see the story of His heart seeking out ours,
We hear the sound of His praise rising from crowds,
We recognize His saving power and ask His Kingdom to come...
For He IS the God--He is the ONE.

When we see Him, we find strength to face the day--In His presence all our fears are washed away.
Hosanna! Hosanna! He is the God who saves us, worthy of all our praises.
Hosanna! Hosanna!

"Come have Your way among us...
...We welcome You here, Lord Jesus."

May this be the praise on the lips of Simpson this year. May this be the prayer of the incoming class.

Why does the hall smell like poo?

There are many smells we encounter throughout our day. Take a moment to think about some of your favorites... warm, freshly baked bread, clean laundry tumbling out of the dryer into your ready basket, the shower room after your roommate has obviously used her soy-and-almond-butter body wash in it, or (if you're a guy) something manly like... aftershave... (I obviously wouldn't know). My guess is that whether you added to this list in your head or have decided that, "Yes, soy-and-almond-butter body wash aroma is DEFINITELY on my top ten," a hall that smells like poo is probably NOT considered a "fav." of yours. Well, then don't come over to third floor Morgan right now. I have no idea what happened (though I am imagine "it" would have happened in a nearby resident's bathroom), but when I stepped out into our hall this afternoon the first thing that popped into my head was, "Why does the hall smell like poo?" In a very detective-like but non-anticipatory way, I scanned the floor and ceiling for some sort of sewage evidence. Maybe I thought I'd see a pipe sticking out of the baseboard--leaking, dripping, a small acidic pool forming and eating a hole through the carpet...
But there is no pipe sticking out of our wall. My imagination can sometimes get a little crazy...
So I wonder if the world has turned upside down and, suddenly, it is the girls' residence halls that will be known for their smelly-ness! Surely, this cannot be! I mean, we have our days, but "flowers and fruity body spray" MUST remain the staple scent of female living quarters! Boys' dorms smell like poo! Not Third-Floor Morgan-Sharpe.

So I'm grabbing the Glade "Ocean Blue" from my (non poo-smelling) bathroom...

Here's to "1 hour!" of the world being right again.

"What's gonna happen next?!"

It's approximately 8:26pm, and I'm sitting on the first-floor lobby couch watching an old episode of LOST. Libbie is FREAKING OUT because, as of three days ago, she'd never seen them...and now I'm wondering if I really should have given her my Season 1 to borrow. But, almost to Season 2, she's knee-deep in constant thoughts and a determined mindset concerning these characters, who've yet to have their full stories told. I think about how we get caught up so easily in such things.... strange adventures, broken lives, stories...stories...STORIES. Don't we love stories? the Lord of the Rings, Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, Star Wars, (and up and coming) the Host... plus, there are all those TV series. We live in the land of "TV Series Galore." But what would we do without them????? (maybe engage in our own lives more often? ...nahhh)

Well anyway, the TV people know what they're doing with this whole "series" thing. I think they caught on to the pattern of humans liking some kind of movement towards the unknown... the unknown of someone's past, the unknown of someone's future... maybe we would call it "potential," because it is a reality that "could be" but that has not yet been realized. And it's all UNFOLDING... ahhh, the unfolding... like a nice little suspense-filled gift. Except, the unfolding of a TV character's potential could end in a reality that none of us would ever really want... or, it could be the ending that all of us would hope for. Either way, it is not OUR unfolding story, so we're not stuck with the conclusion if we don't like it. Maybe that's really why we watch these so much... to get the unfolding without the fear of it ACTUALLY being our own lives that such terrible things are happening to. And then there's the part of us that lives vicariously through the extraordinary feats and treasures discovered in their "lives." Which makes us a tad jealous--but the vicariousness satisfies for the moment. Which makes me think... ya know how people say, "That'll never happen to me"? Maybe it's cause they're too busy watching it happen to a character instead...
...Of course, I'll probably never kick-butt like Kate, or "heal" like Claire, but the more real things--of broken lives being redeemed, of victories, of love, of humor and unlikely friendship--those could happen to me....if I engage in a TRUE story (one much greater than myself).


...But for now, at 9:13pm, I'll just let Hurley have all the bad luck--cursing the numbers that made him wealthy--and still watch Libbie freak out as that burning question stirs her mind... "What's gonna happen next?!"

Here's a question...

...As asked by Jesus:

"What do you think?
There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work today in the vineyard.'
'I will not,' he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.
Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, 'I will, sir,' but he did not go.
Which of the two did what his father wanted?"
--Matthew 21:28-31



I was just thinking about this question today. And I'm not going to use literary technique as a scapegoat. Plain and simple--quite literally in fact--I do not do what the Father wants very often; but I tell Him "I will" just as much.

Of course, I'm not perfect. But I bet Jesus would like me to give heed to His words sometimes. Even the hard ones. Maybe ESPECIALLY the hard ones. So that's what I'm doing right now.

My God is Good.

There are those days that don't make sense--ya know? The ones that come like a rain storm you haven't had time to plan for... Sometimes, they are as frustrating as unexpected rain; or they may be that very pleasant surprise you've been waiting on for months now. Mine was the pleasant one today. And I LOVE the fact that I hadn't planned for it. It was not a "fast" day...in fact, I've been using the word "slow" when others inquire, but not because nothing has happened. I actually had an eventful morning of waking up to the thought of "It's today! We get to give them the school supplies today!" And that thought of finally passing out those backpacks at Cypress Elementary was a high in my morning preparations. I swung by Starbucks on the way (any time Meghan!) but was not restless or hurried in the least. When all was said and done with the Cypress Adventure, a few of us hopped (but not literally) across the street to (again) Starbucks (I swear, the Stirring funds that business) (and, I think I like parentheses).
...This all happened before 10am, so it makes sense that I'm watching my clock now, wondering why it feels at least two hours slow. But I'm not anxious about that... I'm thinking about how I walked across campus today in this nice Redding breeze that decided to cut through this not-so-nice Redding heat, and I'm remembering how I knew the Lord was whispering my name in every pause between gusts. I'm thinking about how I got to talk with a few friends I hadn't seen in awhile and how comfortable I was sitting in the stillness of our room as my roommate worked quietly but determinedly on her strategy-of-approach to the fall semester. I'm thinking about how blessed I am--about how a neat little financial miracle reminded me of God's provision yet again today. I'm thinking about last night... and the many things God practically UNLOADED on me (all good, of course ;). And now I'm thinking, "What reply do I really have for the world today when it wants to know how my day has been?" My reply can only really be this--"My God loves me, and my God is good." I might not always say it, but I would like to at least start thinking that. When I'm found in any day, in fact, I would like to at least start thinking that...

Because honestly you guys, whatever kind of day, I'd like to remember that "My God loves me, and my God is good."

Where do you start?

Where do you start talking about a trip that has changed your life? Well, maybe that’s not the best way to say it. It’s not that my life itself has changed—I still came back home, I still came back to Redding. I still came back to Simpson, the Stirring, my community of friends and family. And I still came back to my job, my school work, and my morning routine of gym-and-coffee-shop. So really, my life hasn’t changed much at all. But my heart has. Where do you start talking about a trip that has changed your heart? That’s probably a harder question to answer than the first one.

I guess for one thing… I think about how many times I used the word “my” in that paragraph above. And I think sometimes we use the word “my” not out of a desire to communicate that we possess something, but rather, that we belong. Saying, “my computer,” for example, can mean something quite different than “my father.” The first is most likely communicating that the computer is “my possession,” but the second is probably full of connotations that say “this is the father I belong to.” One comes from the desire to own…the other, from the desire to be owned by. In this day and age, do we even want to be “owned” though? In this independent culture, do we dare give into that deep desire to say we belong to something or someone? I think that is a part of my heart that has changed… I think I would rather belong than possess. Of course it’s ok to have things—I still have my computer, my phone, my car, and yes, my cup of coffee--but if these things belong to me, and I belong to something or someone else, than these things are not mine alone. I’m beginning to understand why we say “everything I have is God’s.” I am God’s. So what I do with what I have will either misrepresent or actually be God’s Hand possessing and doing that same thing with those things. OK. Break.

Now, say I come back to Redding and go to my church (notice the “my”—I can tell you right now, that is to communicate my desire to belong there, not possess it). I'm wondering if and how I really do belong there. But assuming I belong to God and so do others…then maybe we also all belong to each other, whether we want to or not. Or maybe—we only belong in a place when we belong to the people in that place. And ultimately, we all only truly belong in Heaven don't we? because we all only truly belong to God and His Community of Love. However, while we’re here on earth perhaps there are those communities...those places of heaven breaking into earth, where we get to taste the encouragement and glimpse the hope and love that God's Kingdom is all about.

Anyway, all this is just scratching the surface of a way my heart has changed regarding possessions—and also relationships. I hope that even “my lifetime” becomes less idolized in my eyes. The hope that we encountered in Cambodia is one that reaches beyond my lifetime…because many of the healings that need to happen there are going to take quite the process. There are here-and-now healings, for sure, and they make all the difference in the world to each individual that they affect instantly. However, the “instant gratification” mentality needs to be held pretty loosely in such a place. The future generation is the country’s realistic hope. And just as God has provided hope to individual girls through ministry we worked with, I believe He wants to provide a community of hope to the whole nation. It is no longer a question of “my lifetime”—and whether or not I will see the fruit of the seeds being planted—but rather an assurance of God’s Redemption Plan and a faith in a God that patiently and still persistently calls out generations.

I believe Cambodia is as important to God as Redding. And if movements and “rivers of gold” can flow from this place—I believe they can not only reach to there, but find a new fire and out-pouring from there too. There is much healing needed…but all that means to me now is that it is a land of awesome potential, and that they are a people God cries out to grow.

The harvest… is MASSIVE. But some of the workers only sit in their chairs and dream of things that “probably won’t happen in my lifetime.” So why bother, right?