I wonder if I'll be weightless in heaven?

Seriously, I've been thinking a lot about this question the past couple of days.  Because every time I have some incredible "God experience" or "Christian high" something quickly follows it to remind me of the weight and gravity of this fallen world we live in.  Sometimes it just feels so heavy that I literally cannot breathe and all I want to do is just be done.

Honestly, I'm coming off one of the most incredible and challenging months of the race with tons of clarity and joy.  However, the crushing weight that comes with gravity has quickly returned me back to the earth's surface and jumbled all my thoughts.

When we arrived in the Philippines, we were able to meet the January squads and spend a night with them.  While prior situations and conversations had already started my descent back down, speaking with this group began to apply more than enough pressure to finish the job.  It wasn't that they were directly pushing me, but as I recounted the stories and memories from our past year the weight of loss, betrayal, and doubt began to take their toll.  Why have so many people been sent home?  Why has our squad dealt with so much strife and discord?  Why do we argue more than we worship?

Of course our whole squad has had to walk through this, but it weighs a little differently when you're a leader.  I know it's good when things are messy because people can be real and vulnerable, but when does freedom and unity come?  Why face all this if it just brings up more mess and strife?  I feel the weight of gravity pressing in all around me and I'm really just crying out for relief.

I listened to a talk this morning on this subject and it was crazy how right on it was.  It all culminated in the life of Jesus.  Surprise, surprise.  It went through many different scenarios where Jesus felt the weight of loneliness (in the garden), betrayal (with Judas), loss (of Lazarus), persecution (on the cross and almost every other day).  It all ended in Hebrews 2 with, "Therefore, He had to be made like His brethren (us) in ALL things, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.  For since He Himself was tempted in that which He has suffered, He is able to come to the aid of those who are tempted."

Why did Jesus have to feel the weight of gravity and face all that He had to face?

So He can look at us in times like these and say, "I know..."

This realization doesn't make things any easier but it does bring some comfort.  Sometimes the weight of everything around me is so heavy.  There are times that I just find it so hard the breathe under this gravity.  I am thankful for the things I have to face, but sometimes the memories are just as, if not more painful than the actual events because we should "be over them" by now.  So we face them alone.  As much as I would love to do this, I fear that I can't.  Just when I think I've learned a ton on the body of Christ, something happens to challenge my thoughts to become reality.  Who knew I wouldn't just be taught something, but be called to live it out as well...

I'm so thankful for the family that is the body of Christ (no knock on my own family, they're incredible).

I can't believe another month is already coming to a close on our trek around the world.  I feel like each country I go to I fall deeper in love with it, but I think I'm just beginning to see what it looks like to fall deeper in love with Jesus and to have a heart for his people.  Malaysia will be a difficult country to leave but who knows what God will have in store...

So this past week we went out to the jungle to visit a group of people known as the "Orang Alsi".  This just means that they are the original people of the land and they make up a good chunk of the Malay population and are all over the country.  This particular group considers themselves to be "free thinkers" and have not been heavily swayed by Muslim or Christian influences.  The good part of this is that they can still be open to our messages, but the tough part is breaking through years of stubborn pride and a blatant disregard for any message we have.  Good thing God never promised this would be easy...

During our few days out there I faced something that I very rarely ever have to deal with.  I got sick.  Fortunately it wasn't malaria or anything crazy like that, but it still took a heavy toll on my body.  I found myself running around with the children one second and literally past out in the back of the room just a brief moment later.  I despise being sick and the weakness it brings.

So my team started to pray for healing over me and I genuinely believed it would come because I was doing God's work, and the last thing He needs is a sick missionary...Right?

How often do I forget that when I am weak, He is strong?

The healing wouldn't come, so I resigned myself to resting and lying on the bed until I was back to feeling better.  The heat was nearly unbearable at times in the jungle and the last place I needed to be while I was sick was outside.  It's funny how God seems to contradict everything that makes sense sometimes.  As I was lying in bed one night trying to "feel better" God asked me, "Do you really believe my strength is more than enough?"  My immediate answer was, of course, I just need it to heal me.  I wasn't expecting what followed.  God told me to trust Him, go out tomorrow no matter how I felt and truly rely on Him.

I know my mom is cringing at this point because her "sick baby" was out in bad conditions in the middle of nowhere.  I told my team and they didn't really put up a fight, which is rare when it comes to sickness, but we pushed on.  It was crazy what happened that day.  On the way to our village for the day, I was told I would be delivering a message for the village that night.  Looks like I wouldn't be able to hide behind anything even in the midst of sickness.

As the day went on, I realized God continually brought me strength when I needed it.  A sudden spurt of energy here to kill some down time, then to the back for resting (we even had a spur of the moment worship service that the whole village just watched as we worshipped).  I'm actually still sick even as I write this, but when I've needed strength it has come.  Thirty minutes before I was supposed to speak I had no voice, a horrible cough, and was just completely dizzy.  When the time came, I stood up and delivered one of my strongest teachings on the race and then crashed shortly after.  It was incredible to hear my team praying over a couple of the girls that came as the sickness crept back over me.

I know God is still teaching me through this sickness, but one thing I'm learning is that the Christian life isn't one of earthly prosperity.  I hear tons of teaching on God not being a God of sickness or despair, but this is in complete contradiction to the Gospel, the first church, and really everything the Bible says.  It makes me think that while so many Christians try to "What Would Jesus Do" their way through life, they never allow themselves live a life anything like His. 

We are promised strength, not health...

We are promised power, not invincibility...

We are promised a treasure, but it's not always here...

We are promised life, but this always begins with death.  To this world, to ourselves, and to our desires.

Over the past week, this idea of walking in spirit AND truth has been heavy on my heart.  In the States we tend to have a grasp on this idea of walking in truth and often times spend more of our "spiritual" conversations on apologetics and theology than even discussing the idea that maybe the Holy Spirit does still play a role in modern day society.  On the other hand, a majority of the rest of the world is on the opposite side of the scale in that they walk in the power of the Holy Spirit, but are often swayed by false teachings because of a lack of foundational truth.

So where exactly is this balance?

On the race, some have said that we focus too much on the miraculous workings of the Holy Spirit and that we need to be more grounded in truth.  To be completely honest, part of me believes we need more of this to drown out all the "truth", more accurately called logic, that too often silences the power of the spirit within me.  I'm not trying to get into a charismatic verses conservative debate (partly because I still don't know where I would land on this because of all the misconceptions on both ends), but I am saying this balance is something that we are poor at even striving for.

We've been on a college campus this past week with a group of Christian students and this balance is just as hard to find here.  These students are in the middle of a Muslim culture and face so much persecution.  They are learning to walk in the confidence of the Holy Spirit, but many have no idea of how to answer the question, "Why Jesus?" 

Aside from him claiming to be, "the way, the truth, and the life", how can we call him the Messiah?

We had a session with them tonight where we helped them to answer that question.  We were able to walk through what the Bible says about Jesus and how he could come and make the claim to be the "Son of God" and bring to his followers complete assurance in their faith. 

It was incredible to watch their eyes open up.  It wasn't that they were excited to have all this new head knowledge; it was that the assurance they felt in their heart was confirmed in their head.  Their passion for the Spirit was beginning to balance with their confidence in the foundational truth of the Word.  We are scheduled to have an outreach event tomorrow, and many of the students were very timid about sharing their faith in such an oppressive society partly due to a lack of truth.  While they have been walking in passion, they have lacked confidence.  I find the opposite to be true in my life as I walk in confidence in the truth I know, but lack any sense of passion or urgency the Spirit often brings. 

I say I love God but often neglect the third member of his trinity.  I don't know where this balance is, but my prayer is that my self-proclaimed wisdom wouldn't get in the way of God using me in a powerful way that may not fit into my explanations...

So it's one of our first days out here in Malaysia and during this first week we've been given one major assignment: observe and learn about the culture.  We started off with a tour of the city and were able to see all the major sights, as well as the worship houses of all the major religions: Buddhism, Thoa, Hindu, and Muslim.  It was quite an experience to see a minaret from one of the mosques overlooking the same street that was home to a Buddhist, Thoa, and Hindu temple.

Today's assignment was an interesting one.  We were asked to go and observe the call to prayer at the Federal Mosque here in Kuala Lumpur.  The call to prayer happens 5 times a day and essentially marks the changes that occur throughout the day (waking up, going to work, lunch break, returning home, going to bed).  All of these can be observed on your own whenever you hear the call, except at noon on Fridays, all the Muslim men are called to the mosque to pray together.  So we were able to sit in the balcony with the women and watch as these men poured in and attempted to cleanse themselves by washing their head, hands, and feet, and then went through their rituals.

One thing we were asked to do was to pray for these men and women before and during this time of worship and to really feel God's heart for these people.  The Muslim religion is so close to Christianity, but so far off because they deny one crucial fact: Jesus is THE way, THE truth, and THE life.  I prayed and prayed...

Lord, break my heart for these people.

As I opened my eyes and watched the ritual, my heart broke.  The only problem was it wasn't for who I thought it would be for.  I watched the men stand up and kneel down at the right times.   I watched as they listened "attentively" to the teacher.  I watched as the time for prayer concluded, the men stand up, shake hands, and walk out together.  Does this picture seem eerily familiar?  I hate to say it, but I feel like I see this very same picture weekly in the States, but it's just on another day and we have chairs.

Now, I know if you're reading this I'm probably preaching to the choir because the average Christian doesn't actually read Christian blogs, or any Christian materials for that matter, but I do want to speak to you guys.  It's SO easy to get fed up or jaded with the American church because of its rituals or lack of passion.  It's SO easy to get critical of the teachings because they may be off theologically or just elementary.  It's SO easy to get bored at a weekly meeting because we know what's on the docket.  It's SO easy sometimes to see what the church is doing wrong.

WHEN WERE WE EVER CALLED TO AN EASY LIFE?

I'm not just frustrated with or tired of the American church like many missionaries that come off the field from overseas.  I'm frustrated with and tired of all the critics and cynics that have plenty of ammo against the church but no admiration or love for her, no matter how "off" her day may be.  Which would be more effective: to plant a church or community with like-minded people? or disciple an existing church into walking into deeper intimacy with the Lord?  I don't have the answer to that question yet, but if my motives make me more of a critic than a catalyst, then my answer is clear.

I want the American church to change. 

I long for her to be intimate with the Father the way she started in the book of Acts. 

I want the church to be dangerous because you cannot leave unchanged or satisfied, instead of a place to feel comfortable in meeting the "religious status quo".

I want the church to change the world INSTEAD of being changed by the world.

My heart's cry is that I just really want the church to be the church.

So I guess for now until I come home, I'm called to prayer...

Yesterday was one of the most physically thrilling days I've had so far on the race.  I'm an adventurer within and crave the adrenaline rush that extreme sports and outdoor activities bring, so a trip for white water rafting was definitely in order.  While the rapids weren't quite what we see in Northern Tennessee, just the feeling of being back in a boat was incredible.  Even in the face of an unbelievable adrenaline rush, I would still have to say that wasn't the best part of the day.

Matt and I were together in a two-man boat, and as we were coming down the river, I couldn't help but think back to our first night of training camp.  Before even talking to each other, we were all led into the woods and had a chance to contemplate of three very heavy questions.  The third and final one was what came back to me.

"Are you willing to trade your adventure for God's?"

Well that's an easy answer.  God's plan is so much better and more creative than mine.  But wait, what if I don't have any fun?  What if there's no real adventure?  What if I'm stuck in a place with no way out?  What if I'm not allowed to do what I'm wired to do?  I'm an adventurer, and live for this stuff, what if He takes that all away?

I'd be a liar if I told you I haven't struggled with some of these questions.  It's not that I think I have a better plan; it's honestly that sometimes I doubt that God remembers who I am.  I have this picture of what it looks like to be a Christian and a missionary and the one word that often comes to mind is...lame. 

I mean really, who gives up everything to do this stuff?  Does God really know who I am and care enough about me to know how I'm wired?

In the wake of one of the greatest adrenaline rushes of the race so far, I was rocked upon returning home.  No adrenaline rush can even compare to what I was about to experience.  One word:  intimacy.  Outside of marriage how many of us truly know what this word means?  Even if we include marriage, have many of us truly experience this?

We prayed a prayer of intimacy as a squad last night and God answered.  I've never realized how selfish I really am.  Sure, I'll pray, but in the back of my mind, what thoughts dwell there?  I'll go serve, but secretly is there anything I want out of it?  I walked outside to lie on the driveway for a while and realized how much I was missing.  I may be on the mission field, but I haven't even tapped into all the God has to offer.

Too often satisfaction overrules hunger and I'm left standing with questions and doubts because I forget about the infinite power and love that comes from the God I serve; the very same God that longs to hear me call Him "ABBA Father, Dad".  I think too often we wait until we have to cry out for Him, that we never hear His cry for us.  We never see Him personifying the father in the story of the "Prodigal Son" as He runs at the first glimpse of His boy on that hill.  I mean really, how often do I just go to Him without a question, or a doubt, or a fear, or a problem?

What would happen if I went to God with nothing on my agenda but Him?

I don't know a lot about this word intimacy yet, but it's an adventure that no adrenaline rush can even begin to tap into...

So it's a little after midnight here and I just got up to go to the bathroom.  It was definitely one of those moments where I stared up at the ceiling for a while, wondering if I could just hold off until the morning because the walk to the bathroom just seemed a little too far.  For the first time on the race, I'm actually in a room by myself (privacy? What's that like again?) and there's even a bathroom right across the hall.  So, with no more excuses, I drug myself out of bed and decided it was worth the walk.  Big commitment at this time of night.

Now unlike most people with slightly above average intelligence, I decided the best decision would be to keep the lights off.  It just seemed like too much work to flip the lights on only to turn them back off in less than a minute, plus it would just ruin my night vision.  So I stumbled to the bathroom, hurriedly feeling my way along the wall and then one of the worst possible things that could happen on a late night bathroom run happened: my pinkie toe met the unmovable object that is the bathroom doorframe.  After repenting of the words that may or may not have slipped in response to the sharp pain now shooting up my leg, I had a decision to make.  Would I just limp on the toe and tough it out, or rely on the rest of my body to hop back to the room?

This decision proved to be a lot harder than I expected it to be, but while I stood there, I was given a word that I think God has been trying to hammer into me.  I'm made to be a part of a body and as a member of that body, there is a certain interdependency that I need to submit to.  I've always thought it was just God and me and that's all I needed.  Sure churches are nice and all, but what is really important is just God and me.  Unfortunately, when Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment was, He didn't leave it at "Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind," which is difficult enough, but followed it quickly with "Love your neighbor as yourself," thus calling us into community with others.  It was then that a question popped into my head...

"What if you were the pinkie toe?"

In a world that glorifies it's leaders, heroes, and gifted members, what if the only time I was recognized was in my pain?  What if I had to actually rely on the rest of the body to carry me or compensate for my weakness?  What if I was completely immobile because of the pain I was feeling?

I've been walking through a lot of loneliness and pain this past week or so.  I think one of the biggest reasons it's still there is because I'm just trying to limp through it and be a real man and tough it out (as if that's what real men do...).  We're not meant to face these pains alone or get through them on our own time.  We're a body!  We're willing to join together to celebrate or do good works, but when it comes to our pain, we don't want to be a bother or a weak link.  The good news is that God uses the weak, and we're all broken, so there goes that excuse.

There's a reason you're not the only Christian on the planet.  There's a reason God made Adam a helper.  There's a reason Jesus called more than one to disciple.  There's a reason God sent His son to demolish the bondage of sin for ALL who believe.  There's a reason we celebrate when people come to know the Lord. 

We're made for each other.  First to bring glory to God.  Second to unify and bring His kingdom to earth.  When I refuse to be weak, I boast in my own strength and refuse the humility that Christ set as an example for us.  It's ok to be weak because, one last time...We're a body!

Many times throughout this race I've wondered to myself if this was anywhere near real life.  I mean, who travels to a new country every 3 weeks and spends every waking moment in complete community, all the while spreading the love of Jesus to a lost and dying world?  When I sit and think about the direction my life was headed, I can't help but praise God that He pulled me out of something I thought was my dream, to take me clear across the world to show me His.  I have to remind myself often of this fact because some days out here are more like a nightmare.

For those of you that haven't heard, two of my teammates came down with malaria while our squad was in Malawi.  It happened the night before we were leaving to go back to Mozambique, so there was no way they could travel.  I knew I needed to be the one that should stay back but with Tiffany being the other squad leader, and Cori being a team leader, I felt a since of responsibility, maybe a better word is pressure, to go on with the squad.  However, some of my squad heard the same thing I did, so I was told I needed to be the one to stay.  Praise God...

Being a somewhat introverted person, I was selfishly a little excited to hang back.  Now that I'm on day four, my thoughts are changing a little.  With the girls sleeping 15-20 hours a day most days, my alone time has jumped drastically which is in absolute contrast to the complete community I'm used to.  The big problem with this is that instead of being able to fill my days with assigned ministry or conversations, I'm forced to focus on myself in between town runs (alone) and pill times (hooray for groggy company).  I say this because I'm the type of person that very rarely has any problems to address or anything that I really need to talk about.  It's not because my life is so good, it's because I'm really good at running just fast enough to not realize all that I'm towing behind me.

The last few days have helped me to realize a few things.  First, I'm exhausted.  It's not just the constant travel (I actually kind of enjoy that...), the sleepless nights, the squad decisions, the complete change of lifestyle, or the steady outpouring of ministry; it's all of those things and more.  Honestly, there are many days that I'm out here doing "God's work" but I very rarely ask Him what He wants me to do.  How many times in my life have I been guilty of chasing so many good things when the entire time God is calling me to just rest in Him?  I'm so tired of all this pressure I put on myself. 

Another issue that is coming up may seem contradictory to the first but sometimes Satan likes to cover all areas when he attacks.  I'm becoming very complacent.  I'm fine with being exhausted but not really going anywhere.  I'm fine with essentially clocking in and out of ministry until my time is up in April.  I'm fine with being one of the least liked people on the squad because of the crappy decisions I have to make and how many people I have to send home.  But I'm not really fine with any of that.  I don't want to accept that this is the way things have to work.  I refuse to accept that my identity is anything less than an image bearer and son of the God that gave me this life. 

So yea, I'm still exhausted and wrestling through a ton of things that are too heavy for me, but every one of Satan's attacks can be used for God's glory and I choose to stand on that foundation.  After all, "He must increase, but I must decrease." (John 3:30)  I guess there are two parts to the verse...

This last week has been exhausting.  We rolled into Malawi on the back of a flat bed truck after nearly a 40 hour ride and have nearly doubled that time over the past week.  My tailbone is beginning to hate me, but it is getting very familiar with the ridges at the bottom of the flatbed and the sweet feeling that each dip the dirt road brings.   I can't imagine what a short commute to work must feel like, much less driving.

I make jokes, but the past week has been incredible.  We are working with a ministry out here that connects churches nationwide.  Churches of all different backgrounds and denominations come together under this umbrella to help each other out through prayer and support.  With this country being so poor, it's very hard for a church to make it on its own, so these churches must work together.  So over the past week, we have been traveling to different hub sites where several churches are represented by their pastors and leaders and we have been given the opportunity to teach and share our testimonies.

Everyday for the past week we have been traveling a couple of hours to these different hub sites and we have each been called to speak every day.  We are all asked to share a part of our testimony each day and one person is asked to teach a lesson. I'm working with Team Bamboo, and I honestly expected to do a lot of teaching this month, but have only gotten the opportunity once.  This team has done an incredible job of hearing from God and not allowing fear to keep them silent.  Everyone has spoken everyday and no one has preached more than once.  Knowing how this team started the race and the fears that have been around, it's truly something to celebrate each day as someone new steps up and doubts are silenced.

Unlike the majority of this team, teaching has become something that I have taken a lot of pride in and never seem to hesitate turning down an offer to use this gift.  Over the years I have developed this gift but somewhere along the way I began to hide behind it.  I longed to be a good communicator and often put that above actually learning anything from the Word or spending any quality time with God.  I got pretty good at this, but fortunately God has this way of calling us out when we try to hide behind something (it's almost like He's everywhere or knows everything...crazy thought).

I've spent the last several months just waiting for my opportunity to teach again but never really getting one.  It's been tough.  Do you ever feel frustrated because you feel like God won't let you use your gifts?  I guess I never really realized how much pride was in that question until I just wrote it down.  This time of silence has been an interesting opportunity to grow and the humbling lessons are always "enjoyable", but I'm thankful that God continues to use me. 

I'm thankful that He's given me the opportunity to share His word this week and shown me the difference between thirsting for His thoughts instead of lusting for mine.