Fetullah's "Revenge"

I don’t know Fetullah. I’m not even sure if I’m spelling her name right. I only heard about her yesterday. I won’t ever meet her in this life, although I believe she will be in Heaven.  Fetullah lives in Somalia. I heard about her from a missionary named Getanah. He’s from Ethiopia.  He himself was hung upside down and tortured with hot oil because he is a Christian sharing Christ in a Muslim world.  He shared Fetullah’s story as he shared of the struggles believers face in some of the various nations of Africa.  Fetullah was married with three boys.  The soldiers threatened her husband and said they would be back the next day.  He fled to another city. Fetullah and the boys stayed behind. When they came for her husband, they asked the boys where he was. When one of the boys said his dad had gone away, they began to kill the boys.  One of the boys escaped into the bush, but saw the execution of both of his brothers.  Fetullah shared with Getanah her story, and she asked him to pray for her revenge. He asked her what she meant by “revenge” – she explained that if these men would come to know the Lord, then one day, they could be in Heaven, and they could dance with her boys whose lives they had taken. That would be her “revenge.” WOW. Not my idea of revenge at all.  I have two boys. They have not been brutally murdered in front of me. But there are aspects of my life where I feel I have been robbed of the life that I had planned with them. My gut reaction is not to want to see the culprits in Heaven. I don’t want to reach out as a conduit of God’s grace to them.  Deep down, I want a different kind of revenge.  I would never say that out loud to anyone at church, of course, because I know that “vengeance is mine, saith the Lord” and you know, it just doesn’t really sound very spiritual.   Well, until yesterday. When I heard Fetullah’s story in the morning…and then I heard story after story of people who not only forgave their persecutors, but began to pray for their salvation. What has been taken from me pales in comparison to the losses they have suffered, and yet they forgive. Christ forgave – from the cross, He forgave those crucifying Him.  And then I heard the story I shared in the last blog – the thieves who wanted Christ, but not the cross.  That thought was so convicting to me.  It struck me almost immediately, that I want to be forgiven by Christ, but I don’t want to forgive…one person in particular.  I don’t feel he deserves it. 

That was yesterday.

As God often does, guess what the sermon was about this morning? Yep, forgiveness. And I wrestled with the message. I didn’t play during the invitation. I didn’t sing either. The song, was “I Surrender All,” and I sure couldn’t say that. No, I struggled…enough to have to step out of the sanctuary and calm down. I know what I should do…but I just kept coming back to…”but he doesn’t deserve it!”

That brings us to tonight. No church service, just a small group meeting in my pastor’s home. All of the previous times we’ve had these meetings, we watched a video and discussed it, so that is what I expected tonight as well. But this evening, we weren’t set up around the television. And guess what the topic for tonight was? FORGIVENESS! Really? I felt my chest tightening and the struggle begin again. In a conference, or a congregation, I can fade into the background. It’s hard to hide an internal struggle when you’re in a living room.  I think I contributed one sentence the entire night. I was afraid if I asked a question or even said more than one thought, that it would all come pouring out. I was just trying to battle it out in my heart alone. When he asked if anyone needed prayer, I didn’t say a word even though I knew I desperately need prayer.  Finally, it was over. I could relax. I began to help clean up, and when I was the last one left, the pastor said, “Dorina, you were quiet tonight.” And then it all came out…ALL of it. Fetullah. The conference. Christ, not the cross. My idea of revenge. All of the ugliness. What I knew to be right, but what I didn’t want to do. 

One thing that I love about my pastor is that it is always about Christ.  And that is where he brought me – back to Christ. Do I want to glorify Christ? Then I need to obey Him and forgive. It’s not going to be easy, and no, this person doesn’t “deserve” it.  He said, “That man may not be worthy of your forgiveness. But God commands it, and He is worthy of your obedience.”

Ouch.

But it’s true. He went on to talk about sanctification – and how God blesses obedience. So the decision is up to me. Am I going to obey?

The honest desire of my heart is yes, I want to obey. The obvious flip-side of that coin is that if I refuse to forgive, I choose to live in disobedience.  Yes, I want to be like Fetullah and all of these others before me who have said, “It’s not about me, it’s about Christ and His kingdom.” I don’t have a love that wants to see this person in Heaven, but my God does. He loves him. If I am going to be like Him, I need to have His heart. I must forgive. My God is worthy of my obedience.

So, if you read this blog…pray for me. Pray that I will obey…and forgive.  Pray that I will want “Fetullah’s revenge.”

All to Jesus, I surrender.  Lord, I give myself to Thee; Fill me with Thy love and power, Let Thy blessing fall on me…I surrender all.

Choosing the Cross

In August of 2003, the New York Times reported an unusual act of vandalism.  It happened at the Church of the Holy Cross in Midtown Manhattan after caretakers noticed that a 200-pound plaster rendering of Christ had been removed from a wooden cross near the church’s entrance. This was probably no easy feat. The statue was about four feet long, with a steel core, and had been bolted to the cross in four places.  Sometime between Friday afternoon and Saturday morning, the thieves unscrewed two bolts from behind the statue and made off with the other two bolts.  The church leaders were puzzled as to why someone would steal it, for one thing, but also why they only took Christ and not the entire crucifix.  I don’t know if the thieves were ever caught, but the thought is striking - they only wanted Christ, but not the cross.

I heard this news story yesterday, as it was read in a conference by Gracia Burnham, the New Tribes missionary to the Philippines who was kidnapped with her husband by Muslim terrorists in 2001. They were held captive for over a year before the Filipino army finally caught up with them in a gun battle that resulted in the death of her husband Martin, and a bullet wound in her own leg.  She read the story, and asked, “Do we want Christ, but not His cross?”

How many of us do that today?  We want the “Jesus Loves Me” and the “Wonderful Grace of Jesus” and the eternal home in Heaven with Jesus, but His cross? The suffering? Why would we want that too? 

The conference was sponsored by Voice of the Martyrs, a group that focuses on the persecuted church.  Gracia didn’t speak until late in the afternoon. We had already spent all day listening to people who themselves had been captured and persecuted, beaten, tortured with hot oil, suffered in chains, in prisons, and labor camps.  These were people who knew what it meant to bear the cross of Christ. They bear the marks on their own body.  Through the years, I have met several of these special saints.  Cinderella Agoubi and her husband Milad who were  beaten and imprisoned at the hands of Muslims in Iraq.  Ana Gonzalez, whose first husband Ramon Rivas was murdered by Communist guerillas in the jungle of Colombia where they served as missionaries.   Their faith is staggering to me, and yet they are not bitter.  Not one of them has a "victim" mentality. These people have a special joy and intimacy with God. I want to have that…but I certainly don’t want to go through what they did to experience Him in the way that they did.

How often do I want a faith that’s comfortable? If I’m truly honest, it's more often than I want anyone else to know. I want a faith that offers me forgiveness of my sin, but doesn’t require that I forgive my enemies.  A faith that offers me eternal reward at no cost to me in this present world.  I want to sit comfortably in an air-conditioned church where I can sing about my faith and the cross, but not have to really live it.  Yesterday, one of the speakers referred to the church in America as not persecuted, but mildly inconvenienced at best. It is fortunate that I have been born in a nation with religious freedom, and I don’t face imprisonment or death for attending church, but Christ said that we should deny ourselves and take up our cross daily. Paul said that “I am crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live.”  When am I going to quit making my life about me? When will I be willing to do what He asks, no matter the cost? Will I sacrifice my pride? My “rights”? My want to have things my way? Will I let my “self” be put to death, so that He can live through me? 

Our pastor just began a series of messages in 1 John, and the challenge has been to examine our faith.  How many people claim to be a Christian because at some point in the distant past, they walked down an aisle, prayed a prayer, and then went on their merry way living their life for themselves? They took out a “fire insurance” policy to protect them from Hell, stuck it in their back pocket, and figured they didn’t owe God anything else but perhaps some church attendance and offerings every now and then.  But if that is all there is to it, why would we be told in Scripture to “count the cost”? What is the cost in that?  Bonhoeffer writes about “Cheap Grace” and unfortunately, that is what we keep passing off as the Gospel.  We water it down to make sure that people want it. It’s not just sad, it’s tragic. People are going to Hell from the pews of American churches.  And they are people I know. People all around me. People I work with. People in my family.

Am I willing to take a stand and make a difference?  Am I willing to take Christ AND His cross?  

Heart Problems

I was praying and reading my Bible today, and found myself in Psalms again, chapter 51 to be exact.  I remember to this day the first time I consciously read Psalm 51. I was in high school and was a counselor at Child Evangelism Fellowship’s summer camp, Camp Good News.  I was wrestling with some sin in my life – I don’t remember now what exactly, but based on the timeframe, I would say probably hatred and bitterness that I just couldn’t let go of.  That week, we didn’t have our usual lifeguard for whatever reason, and the person who filled in was a young man from Clearwater Christian College named Joe Davis. (The girls in my cabin called him “Uncle Hunk,” but that’s beside the point! J) At some point during the week, Joe and I were talking, and it was he who sent me to Psalm 51, and it was then that I remember for the first time really comprehending David’s desire to confess his sin and restore that right relationship with God. That was about 20 years ago, but I never forgot it.  In the years since, I have gone to that chapter over and over again­­­­­­ – there is just so much to learn from just a few verses. I’ve heard plenty of sermons from that chapter.  Earlier this year, I even memorized it with my youngest son Ben.  I say that to say, this chapter is not unfamiliar to me.  But today as I read it, a light bulb came on for me.

I was reading verses 16 and 17: “For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; You are not pleased with burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.”

I read that first verse, about God not delighting in sacrifice – or David would give it.  The Old Testament is full of instructions about sacrifices and about miracles God performed regarding sacrifices.  ­­­­Just a few verses later in verse 19, David talks about when God will delight in righteous sacrifices, burnt offerings, etc., so it almost seems odd that he would say God was not pleased with burnt offering in verse 16.  David was in a place where if he could have offered a sacrifice to make things right, he would have – but he couldn’t.  I got to thinking, sometimes I almost think it would be easier that way. We mess up, we make a sacrifice – all better!  I can be very “works”-oriented sometimes, and if the secret to intimacy with God were a list of things I could just do – some sort of checklist – the Christian life would be so much simpler! I was still pondering that, when I read the next verse – the one about a broken and a contrite heart.  And then it hit me. God doesn’t care as much about what I do as He does about what I am in my heart.  It’s a heart issue. David could have offered up an entire herd of cattle as a sacrifice, but if his heart had not been broken over his sin, it wouldn’t have mattered one bit.  It wasn’t until David’s heart was broken and contrite that the relationship could be restored.  I began to think of other examples in Scripture of the same principle – the first one that came to mind was Saul. He had disobeyed what God had told him to do concerning destroying the Amalekites. When Samuel confronted him, Saul’s defense mechanism kicked in, and his excuse was that he had saved the best sheep and oxen for a sacrifice. Samuel said, “Has the Lord as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice.” (1 Samuel 15:22)  Samuel went on to talk about how because of Saul’s rebellion, God was rejecting him as king.  Saul’s problem was a heart problem.  And he certainly wasn’t broken or contrite over his sin – he made excuses.  I thought about the Pharisees. They did all the right things, made all the right sacrifices, went through all the motions… but Jesus said their hearts were far from Him. 

I started reflecting on my own life and heart. Even with other people, when I know I have done something wrong, my first instinct is to do something.  If I hurt your feelings, my apology will most likely come with baked goods, a card, or an offer to do something for you to try to make it right.  But how many times, do we try to substitute doing for being?  How many husbands think that last-minute flowers will make up for how he has failed her as a husband?  How many parents try to make up for their mistakes by buying new toys? How many times do guilty children suddenly become very willing to help with dishes or chores around the house?  What about with God? Do I think that somehow I can make up for failing God by doing something- anything- for Him?  If I fail to spend time with Him today, will reading/praying twice as much tomorrow make up for that? It’s not about what I can do – it’s about what I must be – in my heart – broken and contrite. 

I guess I already knew that in my head, but it really clicked today in my heart.  I read back through the Psalm again…and again…praying the words to God. ­ I truly want my heart to be broken over sin that is in my life. And there is sin in my life.  My feelings were hurt because a friend slighted me, and I was angry. I struggle with bitterness toward others who have wronged me. I’m envious of people who seem to have everything going just right for them.  I heard last night that someone I didn’t like very much had experienced some trouble, and I was secretly glad.  I thought some unkind things that I really wanted to say to someone…to put them in their place. And that was just in the last 24 hours!  I really have a wicked heart. These things come between me and God.  I want God to break my heart over these things – over anything – that threatens that relationship I have with him.  I want to say like David, “A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.” You know why? Because the story doesn’t end with my heart being broken. Because then, God can do what David asked in verse 10: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”  Now it’s not about what I can do – but about what He can do. The Great Physician does open-heart surgery!  He takes out the damaged tissue and restores it.  I just have to be willing to lie down on the operating table and offer up that broken heart to Him. 

Salt Shakers...and Grinders

I love Word of Life. I love their philosophy. I love their emphasis on God’s Word. I love their heart for missions. I have more than a few friends who are missionaries with Word of Life…and I am one of their fans on Facebook. Yesterday, “wolmissions” (Word of Life Missions) posted the following quote as their status: “Salt was not made for the salt shaker. It was made for the soup.” (Dr. Chris Gnanakan) 

I’ve been thinking about that quote tonight…as I looked at my own salt shaker. Well, it’s not a shaker, so much as a grinder.  I have this fancy salt – I think it is Himalayan Sea Salt.  Whatever it is, it’s certainly not the Morton’s iodized salt that comes in the big round container with the pour spout on top.  You know, the cheap stuff? No, MY salt shaker is part of a matching bamboo salt/pepper grinder set that sits on a little bamboo tray and looks pretty…which is why I have the fancy salt.  It goes without saying that a fancy salt shaker needs fancy salt.  Dr. Gnanakan wasn’t talking about salt literally, of course. He was referring to us – believers – who are called to be the “salt of the earth.”    And I get what he was saying. What good does salt do if it never leaves the salt shaker? That’s not its purpose. It’s not made to sit on the table. It is made to season food.  This is true for the church. We weren’t purchased out of sin to sit in our fancy churches – to look pretty.  But isn’t that what we want to do?  We go to church to sing about Amazing Grace, but never tell anyone outside of those walls about what is so amazing about it. We sing hymns and songs about “how great is our God” and how we want all to see it, but do we ever really stop and share that with anyone on Sunday afternoon? Or Monday morning? God saved us by His grace so that we would take that message out into the world…to find other sinners who need that grace as well. 

I like the picture of my salt grinder even better than a salt shaker. You know why? Because that fancy salt doesn’t do a bit of good sitting in that fancy shaker until something happens to it…it gets crushed. Broken into tiny pieces. It can’t stay the way it is and be useful.  I’m like that fancy salt sometimes. I need to be broken.  Why do I have to be broken?  What keeps me from being used? My preferences. My prejudices. My pride. My pre-conceived notions of how I think God should work. (Look at that alliteration – I didn’t even plan that!)  As long as I hold on to those things, I’m too swelled up with pride – too big to make it out of the salt shaker.

I learned this on my first mission trip to work with Word of Life in Guatemala.  I had previously been on trips to England and to Mexico, but there was something about that first trip to Guatemala that God used to teach me a lot of lessons about what missions is really all about.­­ Basically, when it boils down to it, I shouldn’t have had to go all the way to Guatemala to figure this out – because missions should begin here at home. In my neighborhood. In my community.  But for whatever reason, it was in Guatemala that I remember for the first time truly seeing God work – in ways I did not expect, among people I did not expect, and in spite of anything I had to offer.  You know what I learned? God could care less for my preferences.  And He delights in working in and through the people the world (and sometimes the church!) would deem unworthy or unqualified.  He doesn’t need what we classify as the best education, the best training, the best methods or materials. He doesn’t need multi-media presentations or expensive buildings or impressive programs. He needs willing hearts. Hearts that are surrendered to Him. Hearts who have made His passion – reaching the lost – their passion as well.  It was in Guatemala that I first started to figure this out.

It was through another Word of Life missionary that this thought was driven home again – this time in the States. His name is Daniel Gonzalez, and he was visiting with a fellow-missionary, Jimmy Shankula, from Word of Life Ecuador.  I have a profound love and respect for Daniel and his family.  When I knew that he was going to be in our area, I made plans for him to spend time with my family.  I want my children to be exposed to missionaries as much as possible – to learn that they are just ordinary people who are sold out to an extraordinary God.  I wanted to be a blessing to the missionaries as well. We actually were able to spend time with them a couple of times on this particular visit.  There was one night when we went to Ryan’s – a buffet restaurant. It seemed like Daniel stopped to talk to anyone and everyone to tell them about Christ. But the best lesson came later in the week.  I still remember where we were – we had taken Daniel and Jimmy to Concord Mills, a local outlet mall, and we were standing in T.J. Maxx. Jimmy and Daniel were shopping for a few things to take back as gifts, and again, Daniel was talking to everyone.  He even started talking in Spanish to an Indian couple that he mistook for Hispanics.  When Daniel and Jimmy were ready to check out, my son Josh was standing in line with Daniel. He couldn’t have been more than about 7 or 8 years old.  The lines were somewhat long, and I was getting a little nervous about how all of these people would feel if Daniel started to hold up the line.  Sure enough, when it was his turn, Daniel introduced Josh to the sales associate. I don’t remember his exact words, but it started something like this, “This is my friend, Josh. He loves Jesus.  Do you know Jesus?”  I started to get embarrassed. What would people think?  But fortunately the Holy Spirit was at work, and­­ just as quickly, I began to feel shame as I saw the hypocrisy in myself.  I claimed to love Christ. I claimed to have a heart for missions. But what about the people around me?  I was surrounded by people who needed the Lord, and I was worried about holding up the line? What did it matter what these people thought? Daniel wasn’t concerned about holding up a line; he was concerned about the soul standing across from him. And he was doing exactly what I had secretly hoped – he was teaching my son (and me!) that anyone can be a missionary…and anywhere. English is not his native tongue, and yet he shared the love of Christ. What was my excuse? I prayed that God would forgive me for my attitude. We did some more shopping, we went to Nascar Speedpark, and a Mexican restaurant. My children still remember driving go-carts at the Speedpark with Daniel and Jimmy. They each had their favorite, and to this day, still remember that time with them.  I vaguely remember the Speedpark. I remember vividly, however, the check-out line at T.J. Maxx.  It was there that I was humbled once again, and gained a better understanding of what it means to be a “fisher of men.”

I still do not have the boldness I saw in Daniel, but I am becoming more and more bold in my witness.  I am trying to not stay comfortable on display in that salt shaker. I am trying to offer myself up to be broken and used – to do what I was created for. I am learning that salt, when used correctly, really makes a difference. I am trying to make a difference too – in the people with whom I come into contact every day.  I have prayed and prayed to be able to go to the mission field. I truly have a heart for foreign missions, and I think after two visits to Guatemala, that a part of my heart remained there.  But God hasn’t chosen to send me back there yet…or to any of the other countries that I want to help reach with the Gospel. Obviously, there is more I need to learn, and I must wait on His timing. In the meantime, there are plenty around me who need the Gospel just as much as those in other countries. The question is, will I be willing to be broken and poured out on them? 

What about you? Where are you? In the salt shaker? Or in the soup?

Filet-of-Fish and Mud Pies...

I am a huge fan of coupons! (Some will tell you that I am just plain cheap…but I insist I’m just being a “good steward”!) Every once in a while, McDonald’s mails out these little coupon books full of mostly Buy 1-Get 1 deals. I use those with either the boys or with my friend Martha. There is one coupon though, for a $1.50 filet-of-fish sandwich. Martha and the boys don’t like those, so I’m always the one who uses that coupon. This past Monday, I had to go to my children’s school which is in Rockwell about 30 minutes away. Their school gets out at 3. I had a shift at my part-time job at Chick-fil-A in Concord that started at 4 (about 15 minutes from my house in the other direction – 45 minutes from Rockwell.) I decided it would make more sense for me to change into my Chick-fil-A clothes before heading to Rockwell so that I could save time in that hour between 3 and 4. I got to Rockwell a little early, I hadn’t eaten lunch, and those McDonald’s coupons were on my mind. So I walked into the McDonald’s in Rockwell and ordered my $1.50 sandwich. There was a little boy there – maybe 6 or 7 – who kept staring at me. I was almost to the point of feeling uncomfortable when he walked up to me – a total stranger – and said, “What are you doing here?” Thinking he had me confused with someone else, I said, “Excuse me?” He asked again, “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you get food at Chick-fil-A?” Then I realized I had on my uniform, and that probably in his mind (and everyone else’s) why on earth would someone who had access to Chick-fil-A choose to eat McDonald’s instead? I have to admit, he had a valid point - especially considering what I had ordered!  I muttered something back about having my coupon and being hungry now and not wanting to wait an hour… when it dawned on me… I do the same thing spiritually. With all of the promises that God has given in His Word, and all of the spiritual riches that He has to offer me, so often, I settle for the cheap and now. I’m not willing to wait for what’s better. He says, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you…” but I want them now. So I try to add them myself. My friend Pammy used to call it “sacrificing the eternal on the altar of the immediate.” And it happens all the time. Young people give into sexual temptations with each other because “they are hungry now” and they don’t want to wait for that something better that God has for them. Many of us choose wrong spouses, wrong colleges, wrong careers – all the time thinking, “but I am hungry now…” and “God would want me to be happy, right?” How foolish. C.S. Lewis wrote about this – and it’s one of my favorite chapters – in his book The Weight of Glory. He said, "We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." How many times have I settled for mud pies? Whether I call it a mud pie or a filet-of-fish, the truth is – I too often fill my life with things that have no significant value. I settle for what I can do for myself instead of waiting for God’s best. Is there anything wrong with a cheap sandwich? Not in itself, no…. But it wasn’t the best option I had. I could have waited about an hour and had something much more delicious – and probably better for me! I settled. And I’m not the only one. We read in Scripture about people who did the same thing – Adam and Eve, Lot’s daughters, Esau and his birthright, David and Bathsheba… I think it’s one of Satan’s most useful tools – to convince us that God’s best is not worth waiting for. We can satisfy that appetite ourselves. I think about that little boy asking, “What are you doing here?” I wonder how often God wants to ask us the same thing. As we go around trying to satisfy ourselves, does He not wonder, “What are you doing here? You are My child, and I have so much to offer you.” He sees His people in that bar… or that club… or that bedroom…or at that job… or in front of the computer or televisión… or wherever it is, and He says, “What are you doing here?” No more mud pies or fish sandwiches for me – I am done! I want to be willing to wait…

The Valley of Loss - from Hind's Feet on High Places

…Now instead of that the path was leading them down into a valley as low as the Valley of Humiliation itself. All the height which they had gained after their long and toilsome journey must now be lost and they would have to begin all over again, just as though they had never made a start so long ago and endured so many difficulties and tests….For the first time on the journey, she actually asked herself if her relatives had not been right after all and if she ought not to have attempted to follow the Shepherd. How could one follow a person who asked so much, who demanded such impossible things, who took away everything? If she went down there, as far as getting to the High Places was concerned she must lose everything she had gained on the journey so far. She would be no nearer receiving the promise than when she started out from the Valley of Humiliation. For one black, awful moment Much-Afraid really considered the possibility of following the Shepherd no longer, of turning back. She need not go on…Her sorrow and suffering could be ended at once, and she could plan her life in the way she liked best, without the Shepherd…During that awful moment or two it seemed to Much-Afraid that she was actually looking into an abyss of horror, into an existence in which there was no Shepherd to follow or to trust or to love – no Shepherd at all, nothing but her own horrible self…"No one, not even your own shrinking heart, can pluck you out of my hand. Don’t you remember what I told you before? ‘This delay is not unto death but for the glory of God.’ It is no less true now that ‘what I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.’ My sheep hear my voice, and they follow me. It is perfectly safe for you to go on in this way even though it looks so wrong…Will you bear this too, Much-Afraid? Will you suffer yourself to lose or to be deprived of all that you have gained on this journey to the High Places? Will you go down this path of forgiveness into the Valley of Loss, just because it is the way that I have chosen for you? Will you still trust and still love me?"….The awful glimpse down into the abyss of an existence without him had so staggered and appalled her heart that she felt she could never be quite the same again. However, it had opened her eyes to the fact that right down in the depths of her own heart she really had but one passionate desire, not for the things which the Shepherd had promised, but for himself. All she wanted was to be allowed to follow him forever. Other desires might clamor strongly and fiercely nearer the surface of her nature, but she knew now that down in the core of her own being she was so shaped that nothing could fit, fill, or satisfy her heart but he himself. “Nothing else really matters,” she said to herself, “only to love him and to do what he tells me. I don’t know quite why it should be so, but it is. All the time it is suffering to love and sorrow to love, but it is lovely to love him in spite of this, and if I should cease to do so, I should cease to exist.”

I didn’t write this. It’s from Hind’s Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard. I have loved this book since high school, and I read it probably about once a year. It’s an allegory – a work of fiction – but I love it because I see myself in poor Much-Afraid. So horribly disfigured and living with Fear. I want desperately to be made new, and yet the journey is long and hard with setbacks and mistakes on my part. Always, the Good Shepherd is only a prayer away. Much-Afraid has to learn to follow Him no matter what, to lay down her own will and desires in order to be made like Him. Through the night and early morning hours, I was wrestling with a situation in my life that I don’t understand, that just doesn’t seem fair. That seems so contrary to all that God has promised. Around 4:45, a phrase from the book popped into my head: “He has brought me here when I did not want to come for his own purpose. I, too, will look up into his face and say, ‘Behold me! I am thy little handmaiden Acceptance-with-Joy.’” I prayed that I will say that. I didn’t want to come down this road. I don’t understand it, but He has a purpose. I will accept it with joy and follow Him. Since I couldn’t sleep anyway, I got up, ran a bubble bath, and read the chapter that contains the excerpt above. It reminded me again of the passage from Psalm 73: "Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." When will I be able to say this – not as a desire of my heart – but as a statement of fact? Besides Him, I desire nothing…

I Am Second...

I have this friend Ryan… He has a pretty cool testimony of how he tried to do things his way, and then turned his life over to Christ. He is on fire for God right now and currently preparing for a mission trip to Africa. I used to notice that Ryan always had on bracelets or t-shirts or hats that say, “I Am Second” so I asked him once about what it meant. It’s actually an organization/movement that focuses on putting Christ first. Here’s what their website says:

I am Second is a movement meant to inspire people of all kinds to live for God and for others. Actors. Athletes. Musicians. Business leaders. Drug addicts. Your next-door neighbor. People like you. The authentic stories on iamsecond.com provide insight into dealing with typical struggles of everyday living. These are stories that give hope to the lonely and the hurting, help from destructive lifestyles, and inspiration to the unfulfilled. You’ll discover people who’ve tried to go it alone and have failed. Find the hope, peace, and fulfillment they found. Be Second.

If you go to the website, you can watch videos of people from all walks of lives – famous athletes, coaches, actors – all kinds of people – who have decided to put God first in their lives. Each interview/testimony ends this way, “I am…. And I am second.”

Ryan gave me an I Am Second bracelet, and something extraordinary happened. Suddenly I had a constant reminder that this life is not all about me. There have been so many times that I have wanted to respond to a situation in a certain way, but glanced down at the bracelet and remembered that there are things more important than my “rights” or my feelings or anything that involves me. I guess it’s reminiscent of when everyone was wearing the “WWJD” bracelets, but for me, this is more significant. I can’t even explain it. I really don’t even have to see the bracelet anymore because the thought is becoming second nature to me – whatever the situation, how can I put Christ and others first? I still wear it though… because other people see it and ask what it means. It opens the door for me to share with them as well.

The verse that comes to me when I think about it is Colossians 1:18, “…that in all things, He might have the pre-eminence…” All things. All. Wow, what a thought! What if I could really live my life in such a way that in everything that I did and said, Christ came to the forefront?

I’m not a famous actor or athlete or coach or anything visible to thousands and thousands of people. But there are still people that I impact every day. What kind of impact do I make? When I am gone, will they remember me? Or will they remember what Christ did through me?

I am Dorina Atkins…and I am second.

New Year…

It's another new year. They seem to come a lot faster than they did when I was younger. I've given up on making resolutions about things like losing weight or keeping my house immaculate all of the time, but I do usually use the new year as a time to reflect on the previous year and areas where I need to change or want to improve. This year, there was no question what one of those areas would be. A few weeks before Christmas, I was talking with a friend about how I had jam-packed my holidays with work at several jobs to avoid being home alone.

"Why don't you want to be alone? What are you afraid of?" she asked.

My pathetic reply was something along the lines of, "I'm not really afraid. I just don't want to be alone…because when I'm alone, then I think…and I'll think about how I don't have anyone to spend the holidays with…and then I'll be depressed…so I'll just work and then I won't think about it…."

What she said next, left me almost speechless – and ate at me for the next several weeks. "But you're not alone. You have a chance to be with your God!" She said it incredulously, as if shocked that I would even think of passing up an opportunity like that…and she's right. Would I have taken time off work to be with family? Yes. Close friends? Yes. But the God of the universe? The only One Who can actually fill the void I am trying to fill with my busyness? The only One Who can comfort me when I am lonely? Why won't I make time for Him?

On New Year's Day, I happened to read these verses from Psalm 73: "Whom have I in heaven but You? And besides You, I desire nothing on earth. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." The next day, I was back in the same chapter, and I read more of the verses surrounding those: "…I am continually with You; You have taken hold of my right hand. With Your counsel You will guide me…as for me, the nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge…" I have come back to this chapter over and over again this first week of the new year. I am claiming them for myself this year – that I will so cultivate my relationship with God that there is NOTHING on earth that I desire above Him. I am not going to fight to fill the lonely hours with activity to keep my mind off of my situation. Instead, I will thank God for those quiet times and the opportunity that I have to spend time with Him.

It's funny how things happen sometimes – I had just hit a 75% clearance sale at the Christian bookstore, and one of the books I got was A Hunger for God by John Piper. The first verse in the first chapter was the same verse from Psalm 73. I am not very far into the book yet, but it is about fasting and prayer and about what things I am I filling my life with besides Christ? Ouch.

So, if you ask me what my New Year's Resolutions for 2012 are, I won't have anything profound about exercise or weight loss or financial gain to tell you. What I will tell you is that "I resolve to be closer to my God." And you know what? I think that's all that matters.