What is the point of all of this?
How can I die to myself and follow Jesus and yet pursue a carreer that limits my ability to give people Life?
Or maybe Life is found just as much in the gentle starting of an IV as it is in the preaching of the Gospel.
And what is the Gospel, anyway?
Is evangelism as big of a deal as I’m told to make it?
Can God delight in a heart that is still, despite confession and repentance, divided?
Or is it divided at all? Am I walking in lies?
Will “confident” ever be a description of my faith?
How can I be expected to give an answer when I’m not confident that its possible to adequately piece one together?
Can I help others find truth when I’m scared I’ll find proof that it’s a lie? (Thanks, Nickel Creek)

I’ve recently begun to deeply feel the tension of my faith. It’s a tension that, according to Nathan Chud, “can paralyze us with depression or engage us with creative force. The choice is up to us.” Nathan goes on to say the following as part of his poetic prose titled, “I’m a University Student who Follows Jesus” (listen, watch, and read here):

“I’m constantly divided between the voices in my head.  Discerning what is conviction, what is  accusation, and what is simply empty tradition in my exhausted conscience.  I feel compassion in the depths of my soul, but I have learned to quiet it in order to keep my head above water.

Sometimes I sense that God is leading me to obey Him in an act that seems crazy to me.  With all the voices clamoring for my attention it’s hard to tell who’s talking, so I’ve gotten good at just talking it away.”

This is the conflict in my heart.

And yet its days like this that I think I get the clearest glimpse of the Gospel:  Jesus’ death and resurrection is so powerful that not even my incorrect thinking or self-centered doubts can keep me from the love of Christ.  (Hey, that kinda sounds like something that Paul said in Romans, huh?)

So, at the end of the day, when the questions come faster than my mouth can move and my faith seems to be more mystical than redeeming, I can do nothing but let the grace of Jesus flow over me. I can do nothing but receive the grace that covers even my faulty intellect and cynical heart.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind, but now I see!

Within the first two days of school I felt like I was fighting to keep my head above water. I’m now starting the 6th week of my last year of college and I think I might feel some solid ground beneath my feet… finally. But most of this sense of drowning has occurred because I’m in the process of learning how to do something…

Date.

A boy man.

Named Greg.

The past 7 months have been a bit of a cat and mouse chase. Greg’s certainty has (for the most part) remained steady. Mine, however, has gone something like this:

February: I hate to break your heart, but I don’t ever see this happening.
March: Yep, still NO. In fact, I think I can only handle you for 2 hours at a time.
May: I really don’t know how to act around you. It’d be easier if you’d stop liking me.
June: Its kinda weird that you’re 400 miles away for the summer, but I’m glad I don’t have to deal with you all of the time.
July: Oh wow, you’re not so repulsive after all.
August: I can’t tell you “no” but I can’t tell you “yes”.
Sept 2: Ah, CRAP. I have so much fear. Maybe I could like you, but I’m not feelin’ anything.
Sept 3: Yeah, you’re right. I’m paralyzed by fear. I give you permission to pursue me, but I still don’t *like* you.
Sept 6: What the hell am I consenting to?
Sept 8: Wow, I really enjoyed that date. You’re really cool. I might be starting to like you.
Sept 14: I like you. There. I named it. I claim it. But don’t let your head get too big. And you better not go grabbing my hand.
Sept 17: Ok. I definitely like you. And I guess you can put your arm around me. And I guess you can call me your girlfriend. I guess.
Sept 24: I miss you. This is a strange feeling. What’s happening to me?
Sept 25: I really like you. I want to hold your hand, but I’m not going to yet. I think this could actually work out.
Sept 30: I can’t believe I’m holding your hand… and enjoying it. Jesus is really good. Life needs to slow down.

And that brings me to the present, where I’m realizing that even my strongest convictions today need only a whisper of truth to be changed tomorrow. I guess that’s just a sophisticated way of saying, “never say never”.

After ending a 6-year-long relationship, I had gotten really good at being single. I did things when I wanted, how I wanted, with whom I wanted, for as long as I wanted. Yes, I was submitted to community, but I was only halfway committed to the majority of my friends. In community, there are others to pick up my slack. Lifegroup becomes a place of rest. Worship nights become a time to get ministered to. Sunday service becomes a time to give hugs and receive a prayer at the front. All of these are good and necessary, but dating Greg – committing to one person – has made me realize just how selfish I really am.

I’ve been reminded that loving someone is hard work. Not because the act of loving is hard, but because the act of loving forces me into a life of ceaseless confession and repentance. It forces me into a life of ceaseless self-sacrifice and submission. It gently forces me to cling to THE CROSS, to the truth that I am undoubtedly loved and am perfectly pure in the eyes of Jesus.

And so now I’m beginning this journey I once thought was only open to those with a perfect past and a perfect faith. Its a journey of learning to love, learning to be loved, and learning to glorify God in everything I do.

And so far this story is turning out to be quite beautiful.

Early last semester I was studying in the library when Michelle showed up and gave me beautiful flowers and an encouragment note – just because she could. The verse she wrote down was the one I had been meditating on that day. Thank you, Jesus, for giving me friends who love so well.

Several weeks ago I confessed to Annie that work was tiring that day. I was sick. I was lazy. I was finding it hard to love my patients. But Annie prayed for me. And she told the Man Castle to pray for me. And I showed up to dinner that evening to find that the men in the Man Castle – Drew, Eric, Jacob Lowe, Jacob Hunter, and Graham – had bought me flowers and a card and had each written a note to me. The waiter could not understand that it wasn’t my birthday. Thank you, Jesus, for giving me friends who are intercessors.

Last month I climbed in to the back seat of Jacob Lowe’s car to head to lifegroup. Drew got in the back seat, too, and we sat there for 20 minutes because Jacob wouldn’t leave until I sat up front. It was a silly battle, but one that expressed the heart of the men in  my life. They won’t let me open doors for them. I have to fight them to let me wash the dishes. They always serve dinner to the girls first, even though I know there’s never enough food left over to fully satisfy their male stomachs. Thank you, Jesus, for giving me brothers who seek to honor me in even the small things.

Back in February, Greg came to me and called me out on building so many walls around my heart, for never letting anyone know me as me. His promise was to always protect me, to never manipulate me. In May he called me out on being selfish in my relationship with Morgan, for putting myself before her and her relationship with Drew. His words were soaked in love and pointed me to the Cross. Thank you, Jesus, for friends who love me by rebuking the sin in my heart.

There is a powerful culture of honor in my community. Its as though my brothers and sisters have taken Romans 12: 9-13 to heart:

Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.

Never have I been loved so well and so purely. I am not wonderful. I am not worthy. I am broken. But my friends show me every day the love that the Father has for me – that while I was still a sinner, Christ died for me.

Thank you, Jesus, for the freedom we have to love others because you died and rose and are living in us.  

So, go and love someone today. Love intentionally and sacrifically. Love creatively (thanks, Greg). However you do it, just love. It’s a command, yes, but it’s a gift and a Power that will change you and overwhelm you. And soon, you’ll have just as many stories as I do.

I showed up there for the first time last semester for the “Fall Party”. We carved pumpkins, ate Fall-inspired food, enjoyed the autumn evening, and worshiped Jesus into the early morning. I’ve been back over there almost daily ever since.

I have cried in this house, laughed in this house, and broken things in this house. I have had tickle fights, nerf gun fights, and towel fights in this house. I have cooked and eaten many meals in this house. I have been sick in this house and have been healed in this house. I have watched movies at this house (which, lets be honest, usually ends up with me sleeping at this house). I have prayed and worshiped and encountered Jesus at this house. The tree on the side of the house has overheard many life changing conversations. It has heard me fumbling through worship songs on my guitar. It has shaded many springtime naps.

This house has become my home.

But its not just my home. It has been home to the homeless (literally), the out-of-town friends, and the just-passing-through musicians. The door has been opened to the community because nothing we own is really ours.

The men who live here have chosen to establish a house of worship. Everything done within the 4 walls is for the glory of God! So I show up day after day not because of the people who live here, but because fear and bondage break off when I walk through the door. I am greeted by freedom and unity and sons of God who strive to honor me by leading me to Jesus.

I show up day after day because this place is holy. It is sacred. It is the temple of God.

This place is what The Church is supposed to look like.

The believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.  And awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. And all who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. — Acts 2:42-27

Amen.

But 10 months ago I showed up to a party at a house I had never been to, invited by a friend I had known for 2 weeks, and was welcomed by people who would become my closest companions. 10 months ago I fell in love with Jesus and his people.

This blog is about this journey of learning to embrace the love, conviction, confession, forgiveness, honesty, and laughter that comes with being a part of  a Gospel-centered community.

I have 4 reasons for writing this.

1) To give glory to God. As much as I love my friends, my hope cannot be in them. Given enough time, they will always fail me. And yet, as Victor Hugo puts it, “To love another person is to see the face of God.” To God be the glory for showing himself to me through the people I live life with.

2) To remember. How easy it is to forget about the pit that God rescued me from. I look forward to reading this years from now and being able to re-live the joy and sorrow I have experienced.

3) To give thanks. Those that read this will often be reading about themselves. I want my friends to fully grasp the depth of my love for them. The stories I tell will always point back to this: each person in my spiritual family has shown me a glimpse of Jesus. How can I not give thanks?

4) To change the world.  A friend recently introduced me to a band called “Seryn”. Their song, “We will all be changed” inspired the name for this blog. The chorus ends with this phrase: “We can write with ink and pen but we will sow with seeds  instead, starting with words we’ve said and we will all be changed”.  (Take a listen, then go buy their album). I pray that my words don’t stay on the page. After all, a computer can’t talk back. A computer can’t hug, or pray, or worship. But words can stir up hope and joy and affection for our Father. So that is my prayer.

I pray that we will all be changed.