April 07, 2007
Revelation
Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Matthew 28:5-6
When I think about Calvary, when I picture Him there, his blood flowing out, covering me, covering my sins…when I picture him hanging there, the warrant for MY arrest and MY death nailed to the cross through his hands…when I think of what it will be like to kneel at that throne, to stand with the angels and cry "HOLY HOLY HOLY is the Lord Almighty!" (Isaiah 6:2-3) it's both unbelievable and the purest truth ever revealed.
If I covet any place on earth but the dust at the foot of the cross, then I know nothing of Calvary love. – Amy Carmichael
Sometimes I think our frustration with the Word is that it is the infinite, it is the unfathomable, recorded for our finite minds, for us who can barely fathom the beauty of a sunset or the vast expanse of the desert. I certainly believe that my doubt blooms out of such a frustration.
He reveals His glory to us in so many amazing ways. In the ocean. In the smattering of stars across an unknown universe. In a baby's cry. In flowers that push up from the dirt each spring, renewing renewing renewing. In thousands of penguins who travel to exact spot of their own birth, across hundreds of miles of frozen ice, to give birth. In the way we are capable of loving one another, despite how broken and dangerous we are.
But the clearest way He revealed His glory was on a wooden cross, on the Hill of Golgotha at a time in history when the record of it could only be spoken. He could have waited till there were cameras. Till the golden age of radio. Until Ed Sullivan. Until the wide web of the Internet, when his death and resurrection would have been beamed all over the world in a matter of seconds to every phone, every laptop, every PDA.
Instead he was born in a manager to a teenage mother. Lived in a tiny fishing town. Spread his ministry across an area that was smaller than Atlanta. He ministered to the untouchable: the diseased, the sinful, the criminal. He allowed himself to be wrongly accused, beaten, bloodied, humiliated. And then he died on a cross, between two crooks, and the only witnesses were His followers and a bunch of Roman guards.
I don't know why He did it that way. I don't understand it at all. Sometimes when I think about it, it seems illogical, crazy even. Why would God do that? Why would He even bother with us? Most people would consider me a pretty decent person, but I know my heart, and I know how evil and ugly and unworthy I really am. But he longs for me, just as he longs for every person He created, regardless of how good or bad the world thinks they are. (After all, the world is a pretty shoddy judge of character.) He died for Sadaam. He died for O.J. He died for Hilter. He died for me. He died for you.
I'll never be the same, cause I know that you're alive. You came to fix my broken life, and I'll sing to glorify the holy name of Jesus Christ. “Fire Fall Down,” Hillsong United
It is easier to tell people to come to church and live a good life, but that is not the gospel. The gospel is about words that can make us uncomfortable: creation, Jesus, sin, repentance, forgiveness, and transformation, to name just a few. Hard words, but harder still to forget them. To share Christ, we have to go beyond formulas that fit on napkins. The Gospel is not a doodle. Isn't God's story of redemption and reconciliation for His creation bigger than what can fit on a napkin? People are searching—but they are searching for something more than fire insurance or "five steps to financial freedom."
Posted by hannah at 10:20 AM
April 06, 2007
Raised
During Passion '07, I signed up to sponsor a well for an African village, which meant I committed to raising $3,000 before May 1.
As of Monday, I reached that goal, and may ever surpass it before the deadline. It's such a small thing, water. It's something I certainly take for granted every time I turn on my sink, wash my hands for the 18th time a day or fill up my dogs' bowl or my 32 oz Nalgene bottle.
I sometimes feel like there is so little I can actually do to help solve the things that break God's heart. I can pray, which I do. I can speak, which I do. But sometimes those things seem small. Meaningless. Sometimes it overwhelms me.
But then... then I speak out on something that breaks my heart right along with God's and He blesses that with such an outpouring that I can't even describe.
It might not seem like much - one well in one African village thousands of miles away. But for that one child who can now go to a well to retrieve water for his family; for that one child who may learn of the living well from which he can draw life, just for that one, we made a difference.
And with every check, every donation, God showed me again and again and again and again that He is faithful when we are faithful to the world He loves so much.
Posted by hannah at 11:37 AM
April 03, 2007
Houseaversary II
You know the second year of homeownership is a lot less stressful than the first when your second anniversary of ownership comes and goes before you even remember.
Aside from a major plumbing issue back in December and an adventure with a resident rat in the fall, the past 12 months have been pretty smooth, house wise. My county and city taxes were drastically reduced (thanks Homestead exemption!), and because of that my monthly escrow payment dropped a whole $12. (Which covers Netflix, I guess!)
I've grown to love my little ramshackle house, sloping floor and jungle backyard included. Two more houses on my street have been renovated and the former rental property next door was recently purchased by a fabulous guy who loves landscaping. The yard already looks 100 percent improved. As for my own yard, the work my mom did last summer means I have less jungle to prune back and I have a brand new lawnmower that will hopefully start for every mow. (The lesson here is: don't buy the $99 model at Wal-Mart if you want it to last more than two summers.)
In a few months the government will make a decision about the future of the area Fort they're closing, which if they do what they say they're going to do, will be huge for the little old ITP municipality in which I reside.
Things are looking up on the South side, and even though there have been moments (and weeks and days) when I thought I made a terrible financial decision, I think it's going to be okay.
Posted by hannah at 11:45 AM
