The Imperfection behind the Facade

One of the things God has been stirring in me lately is a desire to be vulnerable. To take the risk of loving others and being real no matter how I am perceived or treated.

The opposite of love is fear. (Fear can lead to additional opposites, such as hatred, but complex emotions such as hatred come from a source… like fear.) And when I am afraid to let others see past the polished surface of my life into the messy workings of learning to walk daily with God, of learning through the stumbles of awkward circumstances, I miss opportunities to love.

photo credits to Lauren Sapp

The reality of the Christian life is two-fold: an unchanging covering of grace over an ongoing work of grace.

An Unchanging Covering of Grace

I am redeemed. God in His great mercy and kindness has stepped into the midst of my reeking, sinful self and paid the full price of redemption. He laid my serpentine rebellion on His holy shoulders… and laid His robe of righteousness on my once-filthy ones. He took my place, and He has brought me into His place of security and peace and holiness. I am freed and alive.

No matter how I stumble as I seek to walk by His Spirit, His covering of grace never leaves me. He has chosen me, and I have chosen Him. My faith rests in His righteous covering, not my acts of goodness. That is my unchanging covering of grace - His holiness draped over me in love so that He only sees a pure-white bride.

“For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness,

and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.”

Hebrews 8:12

This is the reality of every believer in Christ, no matter your past. Christ covers every sin… every single moment that the enemy wants you to believe is too big for the power of our Almighty, All-Powerful Eternal God.

courtesy of freeimages.com

An Ongoing Work of Grace

This is where the vulnerability comes in. Because, beneath that beautiful covering of grace, God is doing a complete remodel in selfish, ol’ me. I know who I am in Christ. But I also know the heart of sin that dwells in me apart from Christ.

Ongoing redemption isn’t always pretty. It isn’t easy. It isn’t… clean.

But it is wrong of me to pretend that I have it all together when, in truth, anything resembling beauty and life within my life is the work of my God!

Secure in the love and hand of my God, I can allow others to see Him at work in me. He’s breaking down old patterns. Destroying crippling fear. Humbling a proud spirit. Opening a heart that I had walled-in for self-protection.

“But by the grace of God I am what I am:

and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain;

but I laboured… yet not I, but the grace of God which was in me.”

1 Cor. 15:10

“And he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee:

for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’

Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities,

that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

2 Cor. 12:9

Because God pours His perfect love into me (Rom. 5:5), I am free to love fearlessly. That includes vulnerable love. His love casts out fear, because God's love is stronger than my fear (1 John. 4:18).

I want you to see how perfectly His grace pursues and builds an imperfect human, even if it means being uncomfortably vulnerable. Because He is worthy of praise for His marvelous works.

Who Am I?

College has given me plenty to think about over the last year. One of the most recurring themes I’ve noticed is the quest for self-discovery.

I’ve listened to students talk about the struggle to figure out who they are. I’ve written multiple reflections on how different assignments or experiences impacted me. I’ve presented a self-portrait of myself to a class as a class assignment.

College, I've been told, is a time for “discovering your true self.”

The interesting part is that I already know who I am. (I'll come back to that thought.)

What has been truly eye-opening to me, however, is how many people don't know who they are.

I see an athlete, a passionate student, an activist, a hard worker. But those same students say that they are still trying to figure out who they really are.

Why is it so hard for some people to discover themselves, yet I knew who I was even before I stepped foot on campus?

I am not somehow smarter or more intuitive than others. I have the same human struggles and deal with the same feelings of insecurity as everyone else.

But I have a solid rock beneath my feet on which to stand.

I know who I am because I know I am Jesus’.

Please do not stop here because you think that is an oversimplification. It actually took quite the process for me to find my full identity in my Savior.

For a while, several definitions of who I was competed for prominence in my life. “Musician.” “Christian.” “Writer.” “Teacher.” I knew that what Jesus had done in my life mattered greatly, but I felt more valuable if I could add my own skills or accomplishments to the mix.

The mindset was subtle, but powerful. The more I tried to be worthy in my own strength, the more insignificant and unsure I felt. People might have looked at me and seen a confident, accomplished young woman - and, to a degree, that was accurate. But beneath the surface was a growing uncertainty of both who I was and how I should navigate the world into which I was stepping.

That was when God told me to surrender. I had good plans in place (plans that, by the way, seemed both spiritual and Biblical by the modern conservative Christian movement.) It took me a little while to obey my dear, trustworthy Father, but I finally surrendered.

I laid myself down. I walked away from all my plans. As I did so, I found that my plans represented who I was. In practically applying surrender to my life as my Father was asking, I was surrendering my very identity.

At first, I felt undefined.

Who was I? If God did not want me to identify as “successful,” “vocalist,” or “student,” how was I supposed to view myself?

The beauty of Christian identity is that you find yourself not by searching out who you are but by seeking out who Jesus is.

Yes, you heard correctly. Forget yourself (Matt. 16:24). Lay yourself down. Seek Jesus (Matt. 6:33), and Jesus alone.

In a beautiful paradox of love, Jesus reveals who we are when we set our hearts upon discovering who He is.

I found a Shepherd (John 10:11). He told me I am His precious sheep, for whom He would leave an entire flock of sheep to find (Matt. 18:11-14).

I found a Savior and Redeemer (1 John 4:14, Gal. 3:13). He told me I am His redeemed (Isa. 63:9), worth every moment of sacrifice.

I found a Heavenly Bridegroom (Isa. 54:5). He told me I am His spotless Bride (Song of Songs 4:7).

I found perfect Beauty, Holiness, and Righteousness in one Man. He told me He had set His beauty and perfection upon me (Isa. 61:10).

I found Joy, Peace that passes understanding, Love I cannot produce, and Hope I did not know existed. He told me I am His vessel (2 Cor. 4;7,2 Tim. 2:20-21), and He is filling me with the fruit of His Spirit (Phil. 1:11).

I found my identity - I am the Beloved of God (1 John 3:2, 1 Thess. 1:4).

But my precious Jesus did not stop there. He has, in His own timing and much better way, brought many of the things I had surrendered back into my life. I surrendered them honestly thinking that I would never have them again. But Jesus just did not want them to have me!

As I continue to seek an identity that rests solely on the merits of my Savior, I am free to explore my talents. They are indeed a part of my life, but they no longer define who I am. And, if Jesus once again asks, I am ready to lay it all down for the joy of following my King.

That is why, as I look around me at the college scene, I understand when other students wonder who they truly are. “Look within, find your true self,” academia tells them.

I wish I could tell them.

You are valuable - not because of your talent, but because of your Creator.

You are:

• Desired. God longs for you (Isa. 44:22, Eze. 33:11).
• Priceless. God paid His own Life for you (1 Pet. 1:18-20).
• Unique. God knows every individual detail about you (Psa. 139:14-18, Matt. 10:29-31).

You can define yourself on your own terms. But you will never know who you are until you allow the One who made you to shape you into the wonderful human being He created you to be.

I wanted to stop here… but too many messages stop short of full truth. The ultimate reason we cannot find who we are is that we are estranged from our Creator (Heb. 9:6-8). And there is one more piece of identity that only He can help us recognize… sin.

Only when our eyes are opened to His purity, His complete goodness, His rock-solid truth, His majesty, His mercy, His uncompromising judgment, His unconditional love, His unearthly holiness - oh, only when our eyes are opened to Him, the “I Am!” - can we ever see our own sinfulness (Isa. 6:3-5).

Each of us must confront the reality of our identity - sinful, condemned, without hope (Luke 5:8, John 3:18, Eph. 2:12). Only then can we become who we were meant to be - spotless, redeemed, full of eternal hope (Eph. 5:27, Rev. 5:9, Rom. 5:1-2).

College will not tell you what I have written in this post. They're too afraid of offending you. But how tragic it would be for you to live your whole life and never discover who you are… and who you can be.

The Cross

“And they that passed by reviled him, wagging their heads, And saying, Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross. Likewise also the chief priests mocking him with the scribes and elders, said, He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him.” (Matt. 27:39)

Can you see this scene? The Son of God has just agonized over His decision to go to the cross. He sweated drops of blood in His anguish. He pleaded for His Father to make any other way… but there was no other way. He fought history’s greatest battle on His knees, alone. “He hath poured out his soul unto death.” (Isa. 53:12)

Now, as Jesus hangs on the cross, He is tempted. “Save thyself.” “Come down from the cross.”

Have you heard the tempter’s voice?

The same snake that whispered for Jesus to wrench Himself free from the nails and shame whispers into our lives. “Save yourself.”

That cross is our cross.

Jesus said, “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)

What does it mean to take up your cross daily?

It is the moment-by-moment realization that my life belongs to Jesus. It is wielding the reality that I am dead to sin and alive to righteousness. (Rom. 6:2,18) It is putting off the old man, the sinful nature that used to control me, and putting on the new man, which is the Life of Jesus Christ ruling in my body and spirit. “That ye put off concerning the former conversation the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts… And that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in righteousness and true holiness.” (Eph. 4:22-24) 

Simply put, it is saying no to self and sin and saying yes to God. And we do that through faith in Jesus’ work, not faith in our own good efforts.

Jesus’ cross was a once-in-history cross. He has completed the work. “It is finished.” (John 19:30) Ours is a daily cross. We must live each moment in light of our Savior’s victory.

Have you heard the tempter’s voice?

“Save yourself.” Perhaps it sounds more like, “God doesn’t really expect victory in every area of your life all the time.” 

That is when we need the cross more than ever. The tempter lies. It is his nature (John 8:44). Do you know God’s nature? God is truth (John 14:6), and He only speaks truth (Tit. 1:2). When God tells us to put to death the deeds of the body (Rom. 8:13), He means it. 

The cross was more than an annulling of our sins. The cross is complete destruction of everything that stands in the way of a full relationship with God Himself. 

Jesus did not just die on the cross to take away your sins. He died on the cross to take away your sin—the part of you that controls you and will kill you. “Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin might be destroyed, that henceforth we should not serve sin. For he that is dead is freed from sin.” (Rom. 6:6-7)

Today, I am dead. I am dead to sin. I am dead to self. I am set free to live in my Jesus!

And when I hear a voice hissing, “Save yourself,” I’ll know it for what it is. A lie. 

Who would ever want to trade freedom in Christ for the slavery of sin?

Rejoice in what your Savior has done for you today! This is a very Good Friday indeed.

Your Vocation's Unique Perspective

Paul had a clear understanding that our bodies are the temple of Christ. "Know ye not," he wrote, "that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?" (1 Cor. 3:16) "And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people." (2 Cor. 6:16) 

Paul also spoke of our bodies as a covering that will one day be removed. "For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. ... For we that are in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened: not for that we would be unclothed, but clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed up of life." (2 Cor. 5:1, 4)

Why did Paul have such insight into the principle that we who belong to Christ are His dwelling-place? Paul was a tentmaker (Acts 19:1-3). Of what do you suppose Paul thought while he worked at his livelihood? That he was wasting precious hours that could better spent preaching the Gospel in Asia? That surely God would provide if he stepped out in faith and spent all his time discussing Scripture with the Jews instead of making tents? 

I suspect that Paul meditated on Jesus while he worked. And as the two spent precious hours together, Paul could not help but learn from the Master Teacher how Jesus built His tents.

Jesus was a carpenter (if He followed the same trade as His earthly father). He looked at Solomon's magnificent temple in Jerusalem and told the Jews, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." (Jn. 2:19-21) "But he spake of the temple of his body." Jesus did raise up the temple in three days. And He is still very interested in the welfare of that temple, His worldwide Body (Rom. 12:5, Col. 1:18).

David was a shepherd, even after he had been anointed king. He did not despise the lowly work entrusted to him. Rather, he used it as his credentials when applying for kingdom work: "And David said unto Saul, Thy servant kept his father's sheep, and there came a lion, and a bear, and took a lamb out of the flock: And I went after him, and smote him, and delivered it out of his mouth: and when he arose against me, I caught him by his beard, and smote him, and slew him. ... The LORD that delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine." (1 Sam. 17:34-37a) 

Peter was a fisherman. He became a bold fisher of men (Mat. 4:18-20). 

The centurion who asked Jesus to heal his servant understood Christ's authority because of his authority in the Roman army (Mat. 8:5-10). 

Vocations need not be a distraction from kingdom work, a sort of "necessary evil" that we bear. Our livelihoods can be beautiful testimonies of God's work in every area.

During times when I implement the principle of letting each action reflect God's truth, I have found that intimacy with Jesus flourishes. 

We may not notice, but we employ this technique all the time. Fathers have a special insight into the fatherhood of God. Athletics are often compared to our spiritual race (Heb. 12:1-2). But we need not stop there.

Even something as insignificant as taking out the trash can become an opportunity to praise God that He is purging me of my "old self" (see Eph. 4:22-24, Col. 3:9-10). 

As I learn new skills in grammar through college, I find myself noting the important role grammar plays in Scripture. As I practice reporting skills, I try to apply the same principles to my time with God. What is the main focus? How does everything else point to that? If the interviewee [or Scripture] says that, what follow-up question can I ask to uncover more information? How does music reflect the very nature of God? (That is another whole post in itself...)

Work is a good thing (in its proper place.) Whether your work is at home, at an office, or at school, invite God into every aspect of your life. I guarantee, He does not waste one moment. "And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him." (Col. 3:17)

A Letter to a Foreign Government

“Why do you want to adopt?”  I eagerly wait for the news that adoption legislation is proceeding, but instead, I hear that question.  “Why do you want our children?”

I want to tell why.

I, too, was adopted.  I was separated from the one thing a child needs the most—a Father.  I lived in rebellion.  My sin was literally killing me, and I was slowly dying.

That is when I was adopted.  My Father saw me, wallowing in my own filth, and chose me.  He didn’t just sign papers and pay fees.  He didn’t just make a trip to visit me.  He gave up His life for me.

I was adopted spiritually.  I was an orphan because I had sold myself to sin and wickedness.  I had cut off relationship with God.  I had rebelled against God, Who is my Father and Creator.  My own sin was slowly killing my soul.  Sin would separate me from God for ever.  I was headed to eternal death.

This is not a rare predicament.  We are all spiritual orphans—by choice.  We have allowed sin to rule our souls.  Sin is rebellion to God; it is embracing that which God hates and doing that which He abhors.  Sin is the absence of God's holiness, righteousness, goodness, love, justice, and mercy.  Sin makes us orphans by separating us from God.  And no one is exempt from sin and its fatal consequences.

God is not just my Father, my Creator, or the very Being of Love.  He is also my Rescuer.  Even while I rebelled against Him, He loved me.  He left His glory and His throne.  He came to earth as a man—a human being, just like me.  He identified with me.  He lived on this earth; He knows the trials and sufferings I endure.  But God did not just identify with me; He completely took my place.  Sin requires a punishment, and that punishment is death.  I was going to die for my sin.  Death means eternal separation from God, eternal pain and suffering to the extreme, a full realization of one’s own evil heart, and utter hopelessness.  God is perfect, but He took my sin on Himself and died an agonizing death on a Roman cross.  God died… for me.  Sin was fully satisfied, and I was set free.  God died… for each person on this earth.  For you.

How could God still adopt me if He died in my place?  God is greater than the power of sin and death.  He arose from the dead on the third day after He was slain.  God lives, eternally.  He reigns in Heaven.  And He extends His gift of life, purchased at the cross, to all who turn from their sins and believe in Him.

I have turned from sin.  I believe in my God.  He has cleansed, forgiven, and redeemed me.  When I turned from sin to God, He adopted me as His own precious child.  And though my Father is in Heaven, He has sent His Spirit to live inside me.  The Spirit of God has given me life.  God has no limits; He adopts each one who comes to Him as His child.  He sends His Spirit to dwell in each of His children.  Even while He reveals Himself daily to us on earth, the Holy Spirit is His promise that we will one day be with Him in Heaven.

That is why I want to adopt.  Not because my family wants another child for labor.  Not for horrors I cannot even name.  The very suggestion of such things is like an arrow to my heart.  We do not even want to adopt because we think another child will be a fun addition to the family.

My family knows that adoption is difficult.  We know firsthand how time-consuming it is.  Our bank account bears witness that adoption is not easy.  Bringing a new child into the family is a long adjustment that requires patience, love, and care.  Raising and supporting a child is a lifelong sacrifice of love.

Why, then, would we choose such a route?  Because God has poured His love into us.  We want to adopt because God has shared His heart with us.  He has blessed us abundantly with His life.  And He has also blessed us with a home and resources.  We want to share the blessings and love that God has given us with children who need a family.  This desire is unnatural; no human naturally chooses inconvenience and hardship.  Only heavenly love denies itself for the benefit of others.  Love is from God, because God is Love.

I am one voice in a sea of families longing to adopt.  How many others share my view?  In the United States of America, I have seen God laying a desire for adoption on the hearts of many Christians.  I cannot say that everyone from this country who adopts does so out of self-sacrificing love.  But I can say that my family is not alone in our desire to share our lives and God’s life with these children, for God is at work in many homes throughout America.

How do you explain self-sacrifice in a selfish world?  How do you explain pure compassion that pours out its heart, resources, and time?  How do you explain love that bares its deepest wounds to a harsh, hateful world over and over again?

How do you explain the Gospel?

The Gospel defies human explanation.  It is too big to grasp intellectually.  Logic cannot disclose God’s gain at utterly laying Himself down for mortal rebels.  And when this world sees the Gospel lived out in a human life on earth, it makes no sense.

But it makes perfect sense in Heaven.  We have freely received eternal life, intimate relationship with God, peace that passes understanding, joy that cannot be quenched, unmerited love, and undying hope.  We have entered into the very fullness and life of God.  Now, it is our privilege to sacrificially lay down our lives for others that they, too, may enter into living relationship with God. 

My Father desperately longs for His children… even more than I long for them.

(Note: this is an image from the internet, not a child whom we are adopting.)

Brothers and sisters in Christ who read this, please join me in praying that adoption will not be hindered.  Where God is at work, the enemy will always counter-attack.  Please ask with me that righteousness and unity would abound especially in foreign governments as well as in ours.  Please pray that these already vulnerable children will not be kept from their forever homes by governments struggling to maintain order.  Please pray that God will keep the doors of international adoption wide open.  My God's ears are open to the cry of His children, and His arm is not shortened that it cannot save.  May we not be the hindrance to His mighty working by lack of prayer.

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For anyone who comments... please refrain from mentioning specific countries with regard to this post in order to respect governments and protect privacy for families.  You are, of course, welcome to comment!  Thank you.

Seeds of Virtue

I once heard a Christian speaker say that every virtue has within itself the seeds of its own destruction.*  I remember that phrase so vividly because I balked at the idea.  How can truth, as a virtue, have within itself the seeds of its own destruction?  Or mercy?  Or love?  Are these not some of the purest ideals we have and the very nature of God Himself?  

Over time, I began to understand more of what the speaker meant.  Truth, if held as the highest virtue, can carry such potent seeds as to undermine mercy, gentleness, and discretion.  Love, if overemphasized, can produce poisonous seeds that turn it into a false love devoid of truth and strength.  Any virtue, if isolated, can deteriorate into an aberration of its true character.

Have you noticed that opposing aspects of God’s character are often paired together?

“For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.”  (Psa. 110:5)

“He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the LORD require of you but to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Mic. 6:8)

“For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.”  (Isa. 57:15)

At first glance, such contradiction is confusing.  But God is not reduced to virtuous ideals; He is, and all that is good and right springs from Him.  Any virtue or goodness is merely a piece of God’s character.  Seemingly opposite characteristics within One Being force us to confront the true nature and unity of God.  He is a God of balance and wisdom who knows that virtue is not an isolated idea but an integrated whole. The apparently irreconcilable virtues of God, on deeper study, often reveal beautiful glimpses of His nature as He reconciles the humanly impossible within Himself.  People throughout history have worshipped and still worship gods that embody various ideals or aspects.  God, the “I AM” of the Bible, cannot be reduced to one virtue.  He is all.  And virtues, apart from God, are reduced to broken fragments.  

My dad is a doctor, and one of his illustrations has helped me see the necessity of balance.  He often encounters people who label fat as bad and try to avoid it completely.  Fat is not bad.  It is good and necessary for the body to function properly.  Too much fat is bad.  Dad often says, “Like almost everything in life, too much of anything is bad.”  But he points out that our bodies need fat, sodium, cholesterol, metals, and other essentials in moderate amounts to function.  In other words, we need to be balanced.

That is not to say that we only need a moderate amount of God! We should "be filled with all the fulness of God." (Eph. 3:19) My point is to not choose only love, for example, and leave out judgment. We should seek the entirety of God, which will naturally include all of the aspects of His character.

May our virtues likewise be balanced as we live in the One from whom they come.  The virtues which seem most contradictory to each other are often the ones which most fully complement and empower the other to work rightly.  We must allow God to build within us His whole nature, not just pieces, that we may “all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ...From whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love.” (Eph. 4:13, 16)

* Beth Moore's video sessions from A Woman's Heart: God's Dwelling Place