Rest

Rest is such a funny thing. For me at least. I really grate against it in the states. I don't like it when it arrives, try as much as possible to fill that time with activity, with useful pursuits. But, six days in to Thailand, I am reminded how desperately I need a chance to rest, to recharge, to reenter into God's presence. This first week has been incredible and it's mostly been so because I've taken time to have talks with friends, read books, get good sleep, read my bible, listen to music. I do these things at home, certainly, but never with the amount of time that it takes to really get past the outer layers to the juicy center of these experiences.

It's also funny how once you reset and do those sorts of rest centered activities you move from doing them because they are "good for you" and into doing them because they are things that you enjoy. I really enjoy reading and had completely forgotten. I enjoy what it feels like to be well rested on an early morning and had completely forgotten. I enjoy community that challenges and grows and stretches. Well, that I remembered and that's part of the reason I came out here in the first place.

On Coincidence

I have a friend who said once that people will pretty much see God in everything. He meant this as a sort of validation that God isn't really anywhere because people will actively choose to see him where and when they wish. I have another friend who says that it's just as easy to see "not God" in everything. Meaning that people who need to can go out of their way to ensure that God isn't present in their lives.

I see God a lot.

I also go through a lot of phases where I either choose not to see God or am apathetic to his presence.

That being said, I'm pretty stinking thankful when I see Him. Today I went to church with Adam and Cindy, Sean and Prang, Isaac and Nathan, Abbi and Eli, Anica and Lu and Pan (I grouped them all because dang we had a lot of people in that car). We went to a Australian church service in Chiang Mai that was populated by some Thai, some Burmese, a bunch of farangs (white people)... and then the pastor proceeded to preach on exactly what I've been grappling with here on the blog and in my life. I don't mean he touched on the same theme. He went straight for the jugular on the stuff that I've been dealing with. It was funny and creepy and hugely affirming. Adam told me it sounded like the pastor had read my blog and then decided to preach on it.

I saw God in that service. You could tell me about the coincidental nature of it, that it was just reinforcing my inherent bias to see what I want to see, that I would have heard the same thing from someone at some point somewhere. But I really don't care. At that moment I experienced the relentless love of a God who was trying very, very hard to get my attention. To show me His love, to show me that yes he is disappointed in me sometimes, but that's really not the point.

I am so thankful for this kind of relentless pursuit because I am a very, very stubborn person. You tell me something once and I am most likely to say that it's nice but shrug it off and forget it. You tell me twice and I might even begin to think it's kind of important. You tell me something three times and I might start to acknowledge that something might have to be done with that idea.

God has literally spoken to me this week (through friends, family, the word, books, sermons) on my need to let go of my misplaced desire to earn favor and fall into grace on nearly a dozen occasions. And, now, after a dozen occasions, I'm kinda sorta starting to get it. He'll probably say it a couple more times this week and it's really nice to know that He's there, to see Him working to get my attention, and to know that He cares enough to keep telling me.

Recognition

I think that I have a misplaced sense of recognition. For most of my life, I've been desperate for the sort of recognition that sets me apart as great, significant. I say that this is misplaced because, at the end of the day it is completely irrelevant.

I was thinking about the parable where the vineyard workers come for pay at the end of the day and the ones who started in the morning get paid the same as the ones who started in the last hour of the day (Matt. 20). If I'm honest, I really don't like this parable, because the self-centered part of me likes to envision a heaven where I arrive and God says "Chris you were a way better Christian than those guys over there." But I'm realizing that that's nothing like what God's actually like.

God recognizes his son Jesus as someone in which he's well pleased before Jesus does a single miracle. Vineyard workers get paid the same no matter how long they worked. The messed up and broken get redeemed. Nineveh gets a second chance.

I'm babbling I know, but I'm realizing that I don't earn favor anymore than I lose it. I am loved and recognized by God because of who He is not because of what I've done. That is a scary, but ultimately incredibly freeing thought. I get loved no matter what, which means it's really not about what I do, it's about the fact that I'm loved. And the cool part of that love relationship is that I get to be a part of God doing pretty awesome stuff. But even when that happens, I don't get to go "wow check me out God did stuff through me" I just get to marvel at how amazing God actually is. That's pretty amazingly freeing because it sets us free to worship without obligation. To worship a God who loves us in spite of ourselves. To be a part of a life that's not about us. That's so incredibly cool.

Thoughts from a morning read

I'm hugely selfish.

I think I always have been. I go through phases where I like to pretend like I'm not because I'm developing some sort of misplaced "I'm awesome" perspective that is usually founded in the idea that I'm doing more than other people. This is messed up, because in reality the reason I'm awesome is solely because of the worth that has been given me by Christ and I really have nothing to do with that.

One of the ways this selfishness manifests itself is in the way that I distance myself from people who I perceive to be "uncool." I usually do this because I worry that if people see me hanging out with said "uncool" folk, the cool people will realize how truly uncool I also am and will subsequently have nothing to do with me.

I'm uncool.

Saying that outloud is probably a good thing because I want to embrace it, to cherish it, to realize that this messed up, selfish, broken, at times socially awkward person still gets to hang out with Jesus (which is pretty stinking rad) so why wouldn't I want to share that experience with everyone, especially the people I perceive to be uncool. If the best part of my relationship with Christ is the love he gave me that I did nothing to deserve, shouldn't I desire to share that with everyone, regardless of their status. Or, perhaps, in response to their status? I mean, wasn't Jesus' big thing to hang out with the outcasts of society anyway?

I suck at this (please excuse the crude expression). I try desperately to hang out with people who I think will improve my social status. Jesus always hung out with people who ruined his. I worry that people will see me for who I really am. Jesus points out that he wants to love us for who we really are and he's not ashamed for the world to know it. I think it's all about me. Jesus always pointed out that it wasn't even about Him, it was about reconciling people to the Father.

God, give me the strength to be real, to be honest, to hang out with and love everyone you put in my path because I'm really bad at it.

Growing Pains

Functionally I'm insecure. Most people who know me well know this. It's not a particularly large declaration. Nothing shocking in it. But it's something that I have to remind myself of and be reminded of from time to time because it has a tendency to shape my actions and my responses to things. Which is never a good thing. I don't know that I've ever accomplished much good out of a place of insecurity.

One of the ways this manifests itself is that I have a tendency to try and curry favor with people because I feel like if anyone gets to know me well enough, they'll realize that I'm really not worth the time. Which usually makes me care way too much about what other people think.

The really bent thing about all this is that I also have a tendency to carry this into my relationship with God. I often don't believe He loves me, I think that if he does he'll probably figure out eventually that I'm not really worth loving, and in the end I try really hard to make him like me. Because maybe if I do enough stuff he'll be fooled long enough to not figure out who I really am.

This is so messed up.

I'm realizing (thanks to friends, the book "Blue Like Jazz," and the Old Testament) that I really never did anything to be loved in the first place. God loves me, desperately, always has, doesn't change in that love, loves me even when he gets to know me more, loves me whether I do good stuff or bad stuff, just plain loves me.

I don't like that.

I have a really hard accepting that people might like all the parts of who I am. But the insanely freeing thing about that is that it's not about me in the first place. I'm starting to realize what it means to love God because he loved me first. I'm also starting to realize that entering into that sort of relationship means I don't have to "try so hard." I get to be with him, take part in what he's doing, marvel at how awesome the stuff he does is, be stoked that I get to be around when it happens. It really doesn't matter that I was there, it's his show I'm just stoked to be a part of the production.

The myth of movement

So, basically I was inspired by a couple of the students on this last Uganda trip to start blogging again. And, it's 4 am in Dubai and I have nothing else to do, so here goes. For those of you who will read this (what's up family?!) I take no responsibility for ridiculousness communicated in the next paragraph or so... I'm tired and slightly loopy.

This trip, overall, was amazing. The Uganda trip was incredible, we built a soccer field for the kids to play on (well, we finished what we could of it... turns out turning a marsh into a field is tougher than advertised), I flew down to South Africa, and basically bummed around for a bit. What was interesting about the trip, though, was the fact that this was so much more of an information overload than I expected.

When I was in South Africa I had the chance to check out the Museum Africa and the Apartheid Museum. More than other trips I was instantlty presented with the fact that I still really don't know anything. The myth of becoming "well traveled" is that once you do, you start to "get it." While I think that experience overseas is pretty much invaluable for having a well rounded perspective on how the world works, I do think there is a subtle danger that can start to creep in the more you do it. You become the traveler, the worldly wise, the rambler (sorry Kenny Rogers, I was rolling). You think that you understand things more than others do. But, the simple fact of the matter is, that even if you have a slightly better grip on things than your less traveled neighbor, you still don't really know enough to say you know anything.

In the apartheid museum, seeing such an intense and disturbing policy presented by those who lived through it made me realize that my understanding of that part of history was much more static than I wanted to admit. One part in particular hit me... as you transition from one hall to another there is a room with a countless number of nooses hanging from the ceiling to represent those who were executed during the apartheid regime. To bring you even further into the experience, the next room reconstructs the solitary confinement chambers that prisoners were forced to stay in. This one-two punch is probably one of the most impacting things I've experienced in the last year and it was a strong reminder that I've got a lot to learn about what has happened in the world and what continues to happen.

Anyway, South Africa was amazing, and it's still swirling around in my head. I honestly don't know what to make of it. Just lots to think about.

The Final Top Ten!

10) "Help I'm Alive" by Metric... bumped Greg Laswell off the list. This song is too good, I'm ashamed I missed it when it first came out.

9) "It's Thunder and It's Lightning" by We Were Promised Jetpacks... Scottish hipsters create an anthem to the lost and abused... the end gets me every time

8) "Tony the Tiger" by Manchester Orchestra... I didn't know that rock this cool could come out of the ATL, sounds like Conor Oberst if he could rock... which I'm not convinced he can... feel free to disagree

7) "You are the Blood" by Sufjan Stevens... Sufjan covers an obscure indie track for AIDs relief and somewhere in the middle of the insanity reminds us of why he's a genius

6) "Blood Bank" by Bon Iver ... The more I listened to it, the more this replaced Woods on the list for me.

5) "1901" by Phoenix ... heard this song in the trailer for "New York, I Love You" ... downloaded it 5 minutes after I left the theater

4) "Quiet Dog" by Mos Def... everytime I listen to this song the beat gets stuck in my head for a week, no exaggeration

3) "The Ocean" by Tegan and Sara... their new album isn't as good as the Con, but this song is as good as anything on there

2) "Crystalised" by the XX... dang it, everyone in this band is 20?!?! what am I doing with my life?!?!

1) Tie: "Empire State of Mind" by Jay-Z and "Moth's Wings" by Passion Pit... both of these tracks just make me happy... 'nuff said


Honorable Mentions:

"Aint No Rest for the Wicked" Cage the Elephant
"Seasun" Delorean
"Cousins" Vampire Weekend