Best Wishes from Granny

I recently recieved a random card from my Grandma, and it simply made my day. I think we all look forward to those obscure holidays, or random days the grandparents send some much needed cash our way. I often recieve baskin robbins gift cards even though there is no baskin robbins in college station, maybe some two dollar bills that I always feel bad spending, or possibly an Itunes gift card. But whatever the treasure we find inside the envelope I always am so glad that Granny and Papa thought of me to send me something. I've gotten so many cards from the G-parents over the years that it's almost expected, but something hit me so hard when I opened this most recent letter. I went to my mailbox and saw that I had mail, which was exciting enough, and then I saw good ol' Granny's handwriting, I knew it was going be something good. I tore open the letter, ignored the card and took what was inside. I marveled at the Rosa's Cafe gift card (which is my favorite restaraunt), and it wasn't until the next day that I dug the tarnished card out of my backpack and looked at what was written. After I read the letter that came along with the gift, God smacked me in the face with conviction and teaching. My mindset with this small gesture from my grandparents is exactly how I approach the Living God. I completely ignore the beautiful love letter He has written to me, and focus on the blessings He has graciously bestowed upon me. I enjoy my family, friends, healthy body, talents, and gifts, but I ignore the deepest sign of His love to me; His written word. A letter written to me over to course of history that screams throughout the 66 books, "I love you, I love you, I love you." So it was with my grandparents, the gift was simply an extension of what was expressed in their writing. It was simply a gesture that reinforced their love for me, it did not prove it. So many times I get angry with God for not giving me what I want, and I call His unfailing love into question because something didn't go my way. My God loves to shower me with blessing because I am his beloved son, but I often love God for what He gives me, not for who He is or what He says to me. I constantly look for signs in order to get an answer but I rarely approach His word for guidance. I can picture God looking down saying, "Hello, I've already told you what to do, but you haven't looked for it yet!" What if the love of your life died tomorrow, and after they passed away you discovered a collection of love letters written to you? For the next season of your life you would do nothing but dwell on the pages of those letters and soak up every word. You would read them everyday and constantly remind yourself of what was written to you. Turns out, God did exactly that. His word proclaims to us how much He values us, yet we would rather act like a spoiled child and measure His character with what He provides for us. My prayer is that we would begin to delight in God for who He is and the love He continually demonstrates to us through His living word. I have had too many conversations with christians who say that, "I just don't get much out of reading the bible". What a sad reality for a christian to be unmoved when the same voice that spoke stars into motion is waiting to speak to us between the covers of our bibles. If our path is not lit by His written, established, and infallable word, why do we think a voices in our heads that we often mistake for God's voice will be a better source of light for us on our journey? Let us pick up our bibles and delight in the blessing of His spoken word.

I'm Leavin on a Jetplane

I recently traveled to go visit one of my friends, and I cannot stand flying. Its not that I have a fear of it or anyting, it is just such a prodcution and honestly very draining for me, so I was not particularly looking forward to the trip. But God spoke to me so clearly on the plane, and I wanted to share what I learned.

Our plane hit a severe amount of turbulance. The noise of fearful gasps flooded my ears and overpowered the music. It got worse, and the anxiety intensified on the plane. The woman next to me grabbed my arm and looked at me with the most fearful eyes, but all I could do was smile. I realized that God is not done with me. This turbulance is nothing because I am in his hand, so I simply enjoyed the sensation in my stomach that came from the shifting of the aircraft. Then we emerged. I saw the massive cloud, laced with rainfall, that we had just flown through out the corner of my eye. Then I noticed the radiant sun gently kissing the clouds that we soared so gracefully above. Beauty. Pure Beauty. This is when I encountered a beautiful metaphor. The tragedies in life can be counted as turbulance. They produce anxiety, fear, that unbearable sick feeling you find in your stomach. They cause you to wonder, "where are you?" "why is this happening?" "am I going to make it?" No one enjoys the painful process of tribulation. It's painful, it doesn't seem necessary. It fills us with doubt and steals our joy. Oh, but if we only knew what was stored on the other side. The turbulance gave way to one of the most beautiful depictions of the skies I have ever seen. As if anxiety and fear caused me to see the world from a life-transforming lens. The sun never seemed so bright, the clouds never so majestic. Tears filled my eyes as I sat in this moment with my God's hand, no doubt, resting gently on my shoulder. These are the moments that cause us to break out in song, praising His love, these realizations give us the strength we need to fulfill the law of Christ found in Galatians. Tragedy, tribulation, and trials are merely the steps that precede rejoicing, happiness, and joy. There is nothing significant about struggle. It just so happens that death is the only way to resurrection. Yet every time I go through a hardhsip, I kick and scream, begging and pleading God to save me from having to experience anymore pain. However, it is the valleys that allow you to truly appreciate the beauty of a mountain top. If we want to know the creator, He will walk us through fields of pain, so let us recieve His will with open arms.

-Jeff

And The Winner Is...

There is such irony in the concepts of independence and accomplishment. The wordly authorities tell us that as our age increases, so does our responsibility. We gain independence, and consquently, our self importance and self appointed authority increases. We are called to be decision makers and find a purpose. In some ways, this is very true. Yet I see the irony when I compare this to Christ. He calls us to grow deeper in Him. To die. To quit. Stop making decisions and allow Him to work through us. He wants us to downplay our significance. The only responsibility we have is the abide in Him and all that comes along with that. As Christ entered the climax of His ministry, the world handed him a Roman Cross and adorned Him with a crown of thorns. We pursue glorious victories as to boast our accomplishements. Yet the most glorious victory of all was obtained by a dismembered carcass marred beyond recognition. His eyes rolled back into His head as He drew His last breath as if to say, "I take this cup from you." Mosty of us stand over our defeated in triumph. But my God cries out, "forgive them, they know not what they do." The world shook and the most significant event in History ended as a spear pierced the helpless victim's side. There was no cries of victory, no celebration. Only tears. Only despair. Victory obtained through the destruction of an innocent man. We are called to model Christ, so why do we thirst for victories that will only burn away? Our petty gold will rust, and our trophies will gather dust, but Jesus' blood never fails us. Tears rolled down his cheeks as the crowd mocked Him. The unblemished lamb knew the ultimate gift would be birthed through His pain on the cross: Salvation. Death is the ultimate victory when we think about Christ.

-Jeff