I've discovered a new musician that I love. Well. a few. 1. ben howard. for real. He's pretty solid. I'm enjoying his sound. Acoustic yummy-ness is what it is, is what it is. 2. Yiruma. if you think that sounds Japanese, you'd be wrong. He's South Korean. He plays the most beautiful piano I have ever heard in my all life. Click here to here one of my faves. Great study tunes. You know what is a plus about studying in Montana? Pandora. and Spotify. Serious wins, America.
today is Canadian Thanksgiving! So a huge shout to my Canadian (and want to be Canadian) friends! I miss you all dearly. on Saturday I called home (well, Facetime. I was thinking while I was Facetiming how amazing this technology is. Seriously! It was almost like I was there, except I couldn't quite squeeze Joshy's cutie-patutie little cheeks like I would have liked to!) and everyone was there (minus my boo) just sitting down for turkey! I had real missing family moment. So shortly after I Facetimed my boo (aka. my baby sis) out in BC and we were alone together :) It was lovely to be in her presence. [does Facetime count as presence?] It was great. This afternoon all the Canadians on base (about 12 out of over 150 people!) got to have turkey dinner together in an actual home with real fancy plates and real turkey and stuffing and mmmmm-mmmm! It was fantastic.
That's all the Canadians. Except a couple who came a bit later. It was grand to talk about homey things like Tim Horton's and not need to explain why their donuts are the best. Beauty. My heart is at home.
Well that's enough of that kind of update. Let me tell you what's up for real.
Pretty right? so pretty! It's getting more real! So last week we finished up our seminar phase of SBS (class everyday, twice a day, homework all the rest of the time, basically. Super overwhelming, but good.) We were finishing up on study of Galatians which focuses a lot on being justified by faith and not by works. As an illustration on the last day the guy who was leading the lecture, Nathan, decided to offer each of us a cookie. Another staff, Ryan, also came up to the front to join Nathan in what we thought would be his left hand in handing out these tasty treats. Nathan offered up the first cookie to the first student, asking if she would like it. Of course, she responded with a yes (double chocolate chip with almond extract!? Yes please!) However when he handed her the cookie he turned to Ryan and said, "hey Ryan, can you do 5 pushups so Carolynn can have a cookie?" Of course Ryan obliged. Many people laughed, some people wondered, loudly, why he had to - Carolynn said she would give the cookie back. Nathan moved on and asked the next person if they wanted a cookie. He also responded with a "sure", and Nathan again asked Ryan to do 5 pushups. It was then that it dawned on me what was happening. Nathan was going to continue to offer a cookie to each student, 51 in total that day, and for each student that said yes, Ryan would do 5 pushups. Nathan got to the 5th student and she said, "No, I'm okay," to which Nathan responded, "Okay, well I will just leave this here, and Ryan can you do 5 pushups so Leah can have a cookie?" Well, there went my plan. This wasn't about Ryan's pushups and Nathan's cookies. This was about this Jesus I follow and my life. As much as I thought about what Christ had physically done for me, never had it dawned in me so realistically. I sat there, in my seat, knowing Nathan would eventually get to me, considering how I would respond to his offer - all the while a thick lump was forming in the depths of my throat. I thought about how I couldn't even do my own push ups - just the day before I did some circuit training with my friend Amanda, and I could barely do 5 girl push ups, and I couldn't accomplish 1 man one! How could I do 5 per student? How could I do 5 *good ones* just for me? I couldn't. I knew I couldn't. When Nathan got to me and said, "Erika, would you like a cookie?" I couldn't even speak. I just nodded. It was shortly after that as I stared at that cookie on my desk that the tears started to flow.
"This
is so silly. It's just Ryan and he's just doing
push
ups. And this is just about the cookie."
"Erika, it's not about the cookie. It's
about me and what I did for you.
You couldn't have done it for yourself.
Remember yesterday?
You couldn't even try. I wouldn't have wanted
you to try."
"There
is nothing I could ever do to make up for this.
All I can
do is be grateful and offer You my life."
"Would it have been loving for me to
watch you take that pain?
For you to
suffer like that?"
"No.
But how am I to love? There is no way I can ever love enough."
"No. Just be loved. Let me love
you.
Love others. Help them see their need for
me."
All I can ever do is offer Him my life. And He loves it. He loves me. There is not enough *good* for me to do in this world that will earn myself my salvation, my justification, my life.
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking. Drowning, actually. But in a really good way. Somehow. As Syd would say, "it's a paradox. live in the tension."
I left that room a bit of a mess. I wasn't the only one. The real kicker? Jesus not only gives us the cookie, but he wants us to enjoy it. The only thing this illustration fell short on was the fact that we have something to celebrate about too- and that's that Jesus rose again 3 days later. He lives! It didn't end with His pain - but He did take ours, and we need to know.
on Saturday morning we had to read through the gospel of Mark since that's the book we're on this week. The first reading of each book has to be read out loud, and can be done in groups of 4 or less (just in case you were wondering, cause I thought you might be ;)). I sat down to read with two lovelies, and about halfway through it hit me that if I had to read the Crucifixion that I just didn't think I could do it - yet somehow I knew in my soul that the story was likely going to be a part that fell on my turn of reading out loud. Sure enough, Mark 15 came around and it was me. I felt it coming when the words, "And when the sixth hour had come..." fell from my lips. I made it to "...until the ninth hour." Then I stopped. That same lump. Those familiar tears. How had this never been real before? I knew the next words. I've read this passage dozens of times. I knew "Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachtani" without even being able to see the words on the page. But no sound came. I was broken. But not nearly as close to how much he broke - for me. For you. For those people you hate. For those people you love. For the smartest and not so smartest. For the prettiest and handsomest. For the down and out and the ones on top. For the girls in the corner and the head cheerleader. For the hockey captain and the chess pro. His heart broke for all of us. And my words through tears don't even get close to the amount of love and blood he shed for me.
Scripture has never felt so alive!
Why is it that the Bible has never felt real? Why is it that it has always just been a set of comforting words and engaging parables? Do we really get how real it was? How these pages meant something real for somebody? That - hey - it wasn't actually written to us? It was written for us, 100%, but we were not the original audience. This morning we learned about the history and background in the book of Mark. Goodness gracious! Who knew! It's some awful, terrible, horrible stuff. The things that our ancestors went through to get us this book, to share the gospel, to proclaim the name of Jesus! It's absolutely terrifying. We took a few minutes today to imagine and put ourselves in the 1st century during the reign of Nero Caesar (this guy would put Christians into a coliseum than unleash rabid animals on them - and that's the more pleasant end of things to share). I couldn't even imagine it...I opened my eyes and listened to the illustration because I knew if I listened I would likely have nightmares. I still might. I canNOT imagine living in a time when you don't know who to trust and you don't know if you'll be dragged off - or your sister or your friend or you father - to their death, and you can't do anything to stop it. There was no safety in the Roman empire. The Caesar's were insane and felt no shame even in killing their own family - they certainly wouldn't stop at you. Awful. Just awful. And that is our heritage. If you call yourself a Christian, that is what people went through, suffered through for you. For me. We need not ever be ungrateful to our Jesus for the lives we have. These early Christians never backed down - they stood their ground and took the persecution. It would have been so easy to deny Christ as Messiah - so easy. All it took was regular trips to the Jewish temples. But that wasn't what Jesus had called them to do. He suffered for them and they understood the implications of that. He asks us to do the same - to surrender our lives to Him, to be His servant here on earth, to suffer for Him.
It's hard. Don't get me wrong. I know it's hard. And I know you can't just force these things on yourself or on somebody else. I know that - deeply, honestly. I wish I could give you the formula for surrender - but there are no magic words or special codes. Allow yourself to sit in the Word. Allow each letter to land on your tongue and sink into your mouth. Let them digest. Don't be afraid of waiting.
When you're sick of waiting, keep waiting.
When you're tired of standing, keep standing.
When you don't want to sing, sing louder.
When you don't want to give, give twice as much.
When you don't want to give someone a hug, hug them with all you have.
The more you take your eyes off of you and put them on others, put them on the who God is calling you to love, the more you will probably see God, and you'll realize that you are surrendering.
I came to SBS because I wanted to know the Bible. As it turns out, the Bible wants to know me.
and that's transforming my heart in ways I just wasn't expecting.
erika
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