Wading through life

For the last little while—say the last month or so—I’ve been searching into my heart for the voice of God. It’s kind of a new technique for me. In the past, I would often search my head/mind for God’s voice and come up with mixed results. Some of the stuff ended up being my own thoughts; some of the stuff seemed to be God’s.

So, I’ve been changing how I go about listening for God. And while the difference might not make much sense to you, it does to me and I guess that’s what’s important right now.

Anyway, in my listening I’m often hearing only the word “Come.” Again and again: “Come.” And I haven’t known what to do with it. I’ve thought, “Lord, is that all you have to say to me right now? Am I really hearing you?”

Later, I’ll stop and listen again… “Come.”

Today at lunch, as I flipped through one of my current reads, Pete Greig’s The Vow, I saw that the next chapter is titled, “When Jesus says ‘Come’.”

Needless to say, I’m terribly excited to get home tonight to read it and see what the Lord has to say through Greig.

As if I’d quote anyone else (ok, maybe John Eldredge), this, from AW Tozer. The context is “Why Satan Hates the Child of God“:

The Christian is a holy rebel loose in the world with access to the throne of God. Satan never knows from what direction the danger will come. Who knows when another Elijah will arise, or another Daniel? or a Luther or a Booth? Who knows when an Edwards or a Finney may go in and liberate a whole town or countryside by the preaching of the Word and prayer? Such a danger is too great to tolerate, so Satan gets to the new convert as early as possible to prevent his becoming too formidable a foe.

I love some of the examples he gives. What was Daniel’s primary ministry? Prayer and service. How did the Lord use Edwards and Finney to change the destiny of cities? Prayer and preaching the Word.

Revival will come to America as we get on our knees and then walk out the Word.

Been listening to Project 86 quite often lately when working out. Must say… I’ve missed those guys. I went to probably five or six of their concerts during their early years. But their music has taken a turn for the worse with their last few albums, in my opinion. So, they’ve kinda fallen off my radar.

With all the worship music I listen to, “angry man music” (as I like to call bands such as Linkin Park, POD, Project 86, Blindside, Our Lady Peace…) doesn’t get much airtime any more. But it’s kinda nice to be able to just enjoy this kind of music without having to deal with the negative aggression it tended to generate during my more dysfunctional years.

The song that really stood out to me tonight was Chapter 2:

New day springs light on the burdened, the downcast
My past lingers to define the outcast
I long for the coming of chapter two
To put an end to this cycle of backlash
So I start where the last chapter ended
But the veil has been lifted, my thoughts are sifted
Every wrong is righted
The new song I sing with every breath, breathes sight in

So let your face consume my mind… (x8)
Hair standing on end, it’s sent forth
Is this the end I was always meant for?
I still long for the taste of better days long ago
Long past, so dead to me but yet
Here it is in the palm of my hand to see
As I witness the birth of a new beginning
I sense it breathing, I feel it seething
I see my fear begin fading

Breath on me for my new beginning…

I entered into a new life-chapter this past summer and have been loving the newness I’ve found here. The veil certainly has been lifted, my thoughts are absolutely sifted and His face consumes my mind.

So keep breathing on me, Lord. Keep breathing your Life into my new beginning.

Those interested in a prophetic picture of America and the Lord’s attitude toward nations that continue to practice and legalize evil, I suggest reading through the book of Hosea a few times. There are a lot of passages in there that seemed relevant to me, such as:

• Hosea 4:1-7
• Hosea 5:1-4, 10
• Hosea 7:1-4
• Hosea 9:7-9
• Hosea 10:1-2

And while those verses for the most part deal with consequences of sin and how sure God’s judgments will be, look at how He finished the love letter:

Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God,
for your sins have brought you down.
Bring your confessions, and return to the Lord.
Say to him,
“Forgive all our sins and graciously receive us,
so that we may offer you our praises.
Assyria cannot save us,
nor can our warhorses.
Never again will we say to the idols we have made,
‘You are our gods.’
No, in you alone
do the orphans find mercy.”

The Lord says,
“Then I will heal you of your faithlessness;
my love will know no bounds,
for my anger will be gone forever.
I will be to Israel
like a refreshing dew from heaven.
Israel will blossom like the lily;
it will send roots deep into the soil
like the cedars in Lebanon.
Its branches will spread out like beautiful olive trees,
as fragrant as the cedars of Lebanon.
My people will again live under my shade.
They will flourish like grain and blossom like grapevines.
They will be as fragrant as the wines of Lebanon.

Forgiveness. God’s always ready to extend forgiveness… He’s eager to. As we learned at IHOP, what makes us think the Holy Spirit doesn’t love His job [of convicting us and leading us to repentance]? What makes us think God doesn’t love forgiving us? He isn’t reluctant to; He loves doing it.

And so while in year’s past I may had read through Hosea with condemnation in my heart toward unrepentant America—and the unrepentant American church in particular—I now read with a more-broken heart (which could stand to be broken much more). I’m starting to understand the heart of the Father.

“Return, O America, to the Lord your God…”

“Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.”

I started this post over a year ago, leading with that quote from Gladiator. I’m not sure the actual date I first started writing, but it was sometime soon after Dec. 14, when a Spring Arbor University sophomore, Kyle Rudolph, was struck by a car and killed during an early morning walk.

His death really stirred me… probably more than any other death I’ve known. I certainly didn’t weep over Kyle’s passing as I did my grandmother’s, but as I perused Kyle’s Facebook page and read all the comments students, friends and family left, testifying of the legacy he established—even at such young an age—I was gripped.

And then that Marcus Aurelius quote from Gladiator jumped out in my mind. As I learned a bit about his life, it seemed this Kyle Rudolph guy lived a life that smiled back at death, and then proceeded to look right past it as if it had nothing on him and were just a hurdle he’d have to clear at some point in the Great Race.

I thought about returning to this post numerous times over the past year, but it never felt like the right time. You can’t just up and engage the topic of death on a whim. At least I can’t. And since I never finished it while processing my thoughts following Kyle’s death, I lost direction.

So, it saddens me that I have reason and emotion to re-engage it. My friend Tim Davis passed away today from cancer complications. We went to college together and both loved photography and worship. He was only 28.

I wasn’t terribly close to Tim, but we certainly connected. He and I were both Ormston Resident Assistants my sophomore year at Spring Arbor University. And then my last semester at SAU, we lived in the same house, though we were both plenty busy and didn’t see much of each other.

Another friend and I held a senior art show to showcase our photography and Tim bought several of my pictures. He was always a very generous guy and loved supporting some of the student artists by buying their work.

Later, when I was working at SAU, Tim sold me a bunch of camera gear for a real bargain. He even let me make payments on it. Like I said… he was always generous like that.

We didn’t connect a whole lot post-college, but we got updates about each other off and on through mutual friends. But then just last year, when I was living with another college friend, Dan, Tim came to town and visited Dan and I. They had stayed in touch after college and traveled to Tampa every winter for a long weekend. They invited me last winter, but I didn’t go for some reason… probably money. I’m not sure.

When Tim visited Dan and I that one time, we had a really good talk. Tim had gotten plugged into a really good church in eastern Ohio and we shared stories about what we were learning about worship and soaking in the presence of God. Tim had purchased a piano with the help of some miraculous provision from the Lord and was starting to play with some worship teams. He also loved taking pictures during worship services and saw that as a ministry to the Lord. We thought it would be fun to road trip with our cameras sometime and do a photo expedition in the Pacific Northwest—a place I really want to visit and explore.

We might have e-mailed back and forth once over the summer, but the next time I talked to him was when he called in the fall to tell me he had cancer. He knew I believe God still miraculously heals people and was making the rounds to build prayer support. His voice didn’t flinch or waver when telling me he had stomach cancer. We caught up a little bit on other things going on and that was the last we talked. I sent a text message of encouragement once or twice. And some of us put together a Christmas package for him, in which I included a framed 5×7 of one of my more recent pictures. But that was it.

And now Tim’s gone. That’s weird and awful and glorious all at the same time. Weird because it unraveled so quick; awful because he was so young and a father should never have to watch his son die; glorious because he’s now among the great cloud of witnesses enjoying the greatest party and worship service of all time.

White Shores

This reminds me of another movie, Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King. Remember the scene when Gandalf and Pippen are atop Minas Tirith, and Gandalf talks about the “Far Green Country”?

Pippen: I didn’t think it would end this way…
Gandalf: End? No, the journey doesn’t end here… Death is just another path, one that we all must take… The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back and all turns to silver glass… and then you see it…
Pippen: What, Gandalf? See what?
Gandalf: White shores… And beyond… A far green country under a swift sunrise.
Pippen: Well, that isn’t so bad.
Gandalf: No… no it isn’t.

The written dialog doesn’t quite capture the moment, because it is all in Gandalf’s eyes. He sees beyond; he transcends the circumstance and peers into ultimate reality—the White Shore and Green Country and Swift Sunrise. He knows they’re still in the top of the first inning. Round 1 of a 12-round fight. Chapter 1 in a Russian novel.

From the sound of it, Tim had that same glint in his eye. He understood that same reality. His family shares on his CarePage the hour before his passing, when, though heavily sedated, he “proceeded to raise both hands straight up in the air and opened his eyes as our friend said ‘Come Jesus.’”

That’s called beholding the “White shores” and “smiling back” at death.

For Paul writes in 1 Corinthians: “Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory?… But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

And he writes in Galatians: “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”

For the believer, death happens at conversion. I died when I was eight years old. It’s taken me 20 years to realize that, but I’m finally figuring it out. My feet already grace the White Shores; my nose smells the Green Country; my eyes are captured by the Swift Sunrise. I’m already seated with Christ in heavenly places (Eph. 2:6).

The guy at the piano and the guy without shoes

As I was talking with the Lord about Tim’s death, I saw a glimpse of him in heaven, fingers gracing black and white ivory, eyes closed and smile bright, as he poured himself over an eternal melody and lead billions in worship at the throne of God. There was a party going on there—masses in undignified, Davidic worship and dance before the Lord.

I don’t know how accurate that image in my head was, but it was somewhat confirmed as I read a testimony one of Tim’s friends left on his CarePage:

Most importantly, it is because of Tim that I have the walk with God I have today. He pestered me for weeks before I would attend his church. And I fell in love with God in a new way there. He and I were both on the worship team and participated in Heartbeat together. God gave him such an amazing musical ability and Tim was given the gift of being able to usher in God’s glory in mighty ways. He loved unique sounds and seemed to channel the very sounds of heaven during worship.

I’ve never heard Tim play piano and I’ve never been lead in worship by him. But I’m really looking forward to it; it’s going to be awesome. Neither have I seen Kyle Rudolph worshiping the Lord without his shoes on. But I guess that’s something he really enjoyed doing. Come to think of it, he’s probably in that same mass of worshipers Tim is.

And I wonder what my legacies will be. What will be my worship trademark? Will people say they have a closer walk with the Lord because they knew me? Will this fire he’s started within me spread? Will my lovesick heart for Christ cause others to ask questions and seek answers? Will my living epistle be read by many? Will I enter the next chapter of life eternal with no regrets?

Constant

I learned of Tim’s death while driving back to my apartment from work. Ever since I got back here, I’ve been listing to the same CD—a collection of songs called Constant from the International House of Prayer. It’s theme is the constancy of God’s love and His faithfulness to us and it’s been the perfect CD for this time. Four tracks in particular have spoken to my heart and helped me grieve Tim’s death, yet taste the hope he’s already experiencing.

The final song of the CD is called “He Loved Me To the End” and is about how Christ went all the way for us. It drifts into a time of free worship where Misty Edwards releases her heart’s response to all the Lord has done:

Jesus the faithful witness, you were faithful to the death. You were faithful to the end. You loved me even to the end. Oh God, make us faithful; make us overcomers as you have overcome. To the end. We want to be faithful, we want to love you to the end, loving not our lives—even unto death God. Even unto death.

We want to be equally yoked to you Jesus, equally yoked in love—loving you until the end, just as you loved us until the end.

You are the faithful witness. You are the faithful witness, the first born from the dead. Let us love you this way, oh God! Let us love you more than we love this life! Let us love you to the end—even to the end.

Even to the end, oh God. We pledge our allegiance to Jesus, the faifthful witness. You have been faithful; you were faithful, even to death. Let us love you this way. Let us love you to the end, to the death. Faithful, as you are faithful. We want to be faithful witnesses.

I join Misty in that prayer. That’s my heart. In light of all God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit have done and continue to do for me, I want to be that faithful witness. I want to love Christ and not this life—even unto death. I want to hold loosely the things of this world. I want to look death in the face with a smile and shout until the cedars shake “TO LIVE IS CHRIST! TO DIE IS GAIN!”, with a fist raised in defiance of anything that would distract me from pleasing my Creator and Sustainer, my All-in-All.

Thanks, Tim and Kyle, for imparting courage to me. You were forerunners.