Ephesians 4

The other day, thanks to my friend, Debbie, I read Ephesians 4. And boy did it change my perspective re: drinking my cup.

A lot of Ephesians 4 is talking about the things we should be:
"Always be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other's faults because of your love."
"Put on your new nature, created to be like God - truly righteous and holy."
"Let everything you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them."

But I appreciate verses 31 and 32.
"Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you."

I was texting Debbie my thoughts on all of this. Basically, if we are going to become all of those Good things and produce the Fruits of the Spirit we need to get rid of some things. It's easy to have MOMENTS of patience and kindness. It's another thing to BE patient and kind. And in order for that to happen, we have to ask God to help rid ourselves of the opposite traits. So instead we are patient and kind with MOMENTS of impatience and unkindness. Thankfully our God is bigger than our faults. God is good. All the time.

So, how does this apply to me drinking my cup? Well, in order for me to drink my cup I'm going to need to rid myself of the things I cling to. The things I cling to and absolutely hate about myself. God is going to need to rip out my self-righteousness judgements. Because, guys. I am freaking self-righteous and judgmental. I am going to need to live alongside these women that have come from nothing. I will have to bring myself down to there level where there is no pure love, where they don't have money, where they can't provide for themselves or their children. Where they are angry and hardened and hungry. Hungry for a safe place to belong. I have always felt safe. ALWAYS. I've never had times of intense terror because of what a someone might do to me. And I'm not just talking about a john buying sex, but what a pimp might do because you didn't bring in enough money. Or you did bring in enough money, but he doesn't care. These are things I've never lived through.

And somehow, God is going to intercede and create relationships out of this brokenness. But I need to rid myself of my selfish self-righteous judge-y unforgiving self. And instead take Jesus at his word. He says that when I trust him I will become a woman who is patient and forgiving and GENTLE.

Starting next month I will spend every other weekend living as a monitor in transitional housing for women who have been victims of sex trafficking. I will be standing in the gap, just as Jesus did for me. Feel free to pray for me.

Drink YOUR Cup. Idiot.

Yesterday was another hard day. In the best way possible.

We'll start at The Alley. This week's sermon was all about how God is our refuge. Another word for refuge, he said, was safe place. SAFE PLACE. That's what I need my refuge to be. A safe place for those girls to go to. So that when they are in that physically safe place, their hearts might be softened enough that their souls might be willing to find the ultimate Safe Place.

Then he talked about a relationship he's had that's been so broken because of the other side's actions. And he discussed how God wants him to reach out to this man. The poor pastor was heart broken as he told us about the man's actions. Jail time is involved and yet, God wants him to reach out. TO DRINK THIS MAN'S CUP. Sorry for the all caps, but I just realized how this connects with last week's post. But for real, Pastor Ben is going to drink another man's cup because God is calling him to. Anyway, after the sermon I felt the push to go pray for him. So, despite the nerves and how much I hate to cry in front of strangers (or at all), I asked if I could pray for him. With tears streaming down my face I knew it's what God wanted me to do in that moment.  So I did it. I drank that cup right up, chock full of awkward, uncomfortable, and nervous. (MORE ON THIS LATER)

He also talked about how some churches live by the motto "if you build it they will come." And focus on building churches in wealthier areas and hope for people to attend because of the nice worship center, or the cool gym, or the AWESOME WORSHIP BAND. Instead we need to all live by the motto, "If you live it they will see it." Which is an awesome, convicting perspective.

One line he said that stuck out to me: "Times of prosperity present safe places of our own making."

One of the verses he used was Hebrew 13:5-6, "'the Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?'"

Personally, I was looking at this through the filter of the calling God has placed on me. He wants me to work with victims of sex trafficking. And I might have an opportunity to do that on a part time basis. I've done the interviews, and I'm waiting for a call. But I don't know what I really want to hear. "We'd like to offer you this position." Or "Thanks for everything, but we're going a different direction."

If they decide to go another direction I think I know what that means. It means that God needs more time to mold me. That I'm not ready yet, to be LIVING alongside these girls. I still have time to breathe. I can stay in my comfortable job that gives me the days off I request and has health benefits and doesn't challenge me. It means that God has something better for me and until then I can stay in this season of my life.

If they offer it to me, I think I know what that means. It means God is telling me now. It's happening now. I will be drinking the cup of others' suffering NOW. That I won't have time to breathe, but I'll have time to send up a quick prayer while these girls are telling me their stories and I am trying to be like Jesus for them. It means that I will need to discover how to relate to them and find something to build relationships. And I'm scared.

Last night at Upper Room it finally clicked. Last week I talked to someone about the pastor's sermon because the end message was actually about how the cup Jesus is referring to is our life. And we need to learn how to drink our cup (which, I was kind of frustrated and disappointed with because it felt like a pretty superficial sermon series to talk about. We need to learn how to live our lives to the fullest. Ummm, okay I can do that by LIVING MY LIFE. Can you tell me more about Jesus now?). But anyway, I was talking with a staff member of the church about what God is calling me to do and she was like, "Well, it's kind of cool because this work God wants you to do is your cup." To which, I internally was like, "Cool. Thanks. Yeah, I get it."

BUT I DIDN'T GET IT. So typical. Last night I got it. Working with these girls and taking on their sorrows is my cup. I kept thinking that Jesus wants us to all drink the cup of others' suffering. And see how I'm going to work with these girls directly and hear their stories and carry their burdens? Do you see that? Well that's how I'm drinking their cup of suffering! What are you doing?? But what I needed to realize is that is MY cup to drink. And it's not everyone's. Someone's cup might be to deal with their crushing depression. Someone's cup might be to end an abusive relationship. Someone's cup might be to learn how to live with their prosperity and wealth without making it an idol. I don't know what people's cups are, and like the pastor at Upper Room advised, I can't compare people's cups to my own. That's stupid. But instead, I can freaking hold my cup and stare into it and ask myself if I'm ready to drink it.

SO I'm realizing that I have this cup to drink and it might be happening NOW. I might get a phone call tomorrow saying, "We'd like to offer you this position" and I'll need to accept that God thinks I'm ready. And then I'll have to start figuring out how to drink their cups. Which is my own cup. AND I'M SCARED AS EVER. I didn't grow up in a broken home. I didn't grow up homeless and in poverty. 69% of the girls that come into that organization were living at or BELOW the poverty level. I can't even comprehend what's below poverty. And these girls have been living it. They are hardened, they have grown up in this and they might not even know what true love is. What a pure and honest love can do to someone. They don't know. And I so deeply want to be someone to show them that. But I'm so scared I won't be able to connect with them at all. That there won't even be opportunities to show them I love them because they won't even respect me. Welcome to my brain, please forgive the deep insecurities.

That's where I'm at. Feel free to pray for me.

Taking it all in.

Today I got hit with a lot.

First, there was church in the morning. The pastor talked about a new sermon series they're starting about God's promises. Here are some of the notes I took:
"When something hits us we either lean into God or run away."

Then he asked some pretty serious questions. One he asked was, "God promises HIMSELF. Is that enough?" YIKESABEE. Some days I'm not sure. He talked about the unspoken agreements we have with God. The bargains we sometimes have with him. "Well, I'm being obedient, so why hasn't this happened yet?" To which Pastor Ben says, "God is faithful, but not in your timing."

For me personally, I've been struggling with my own unspoken agreements. I thought that since God has broken my heart my heart for victims of sex trafficking then I would be volunteering or have a full time job in that ministry by now. I had set my own weirdo timeline and was frustrated with God for not keeping up with it. I was frustrated with GOD for not answering me in time. In what time? Well, the real question is in who's timing? And the answer would be mine.

Do want to know the real kicker from this morning's sermon? It was when he talked about a woman that had a sword held to her throat to coerce her into denouncing her faith. And even in that moment FACING DEATH, she said, "It would be an honor to die for Jesus." So he posed two questions. "What would your Christian community look like if it reflected her faith." I can't visualize that. I think it would be so full of God's fingerprints I can't comprehend what that would look like.

Then he asked the toughest question I've heard in a while. "What would your Christian community look like if it reflected your faith?" Ouch. Here's what it would look like:
- People would have such a small knowledge of the Bible
- They wouldn't be fed through the Word at all
- Everyone would struggle to follow God's Word because they don't know his actual Words.
- They would be impatient
- Judgement would reign high over any type of grace
- Forgiveness would be a tough obstacle to overcome, full of hesitancy and resentment
- There would be joy aplenty, but so little self-discipline it would be hard to get through a week (okay, fine a DAY) without regret

I could go on and on. We could all go on and on. But what are we going to do to change that. How do we go about living a faith that we would want others to reflect? I don't know if we ever get there, but we need to try. Which brings me to the second thing to hit me hard today.

Right now I'm super into Jen Hatmaker and how she lives her life after God interrupted hers. The book she wrote about her experience is actually called that: Interrupted. And it's because of what happened in that book that she was able to have the mindset that brought out 7 (another perception-altering book). In this book she talks about how Jesus came down for us. And if we are truly striving after him we need to come down for others. You know what? I'll just let her say it.

"Not only was Communion a symbolic ritual, it was a new prototype of discipleship. 'Continuously make My sacrifice real by doing this very thing.' Become broken and poured out for hopeless people. Become a living offering, denying yourself for the salvation and restoration of humanity. Obedience to Jesus' command is more than looking backward; it's a present and continuous replication of His sacrifice. We don't simply remember the meal; we become the meal.

Doesn't this concept of being broken for others ring true? It's a spiritual dynamic that bears out physically. Why is it so exhausting to uphold someone's heavy, inconvenient burden? Why are we spent from shouldering someone's grief or being an armor bearer? Why is it that lifting someone out of his or her rubble leaves us breathless? Because we are the body of Christ, broken and poured out, just as He was.

Mercy has a cost: someone must be broken for someone else to be fed."

I was reading this out loud to my housechum Hannah with the Alley church's morning sermon playing in the background of my head.

So that's a way for us to live a faith worth reflecting. BE BROKEN FOR OTHER PEOPLE. That means different things for everyone. For me it means, listening to girls share their stories of sex trafficking and brokenness and sorrow. It means taking that on, and then giving it to God. It means being full of grace and understanding and praying to God when I can't. It means feeling raw, powerful suffering. But I do know that God is bigger then that suffering. Which brings us to the last thing that cut me down today.

A few hours ago I was at another church called the Upper Room. And that pastor talked about a new sermon series that they're starting as well. It's called, "Can you drink the cup?" It's centered around the verse in Matthew where Jesus asks two of his disciples, "Can you drink the cup I'm about to drink?" They were being all disciple-y and wanted to know if they could have seats of power next to Jesus. Not getting the concept that Jesus was not going to be a king over anything. Instead he would be King of everything. But they weren't there mentally, so they asked (well, actually their mom did) if they could have seats of power in Jesus' court. So Jesus responds with "Can you drink the cup I'm about to drink?"

Given the light of my entire day, I took that to mean God was asking me, "Abby, can you drink the cup that I drank for you on that cross when I took on all of your sorrows and came down for you? Can you drink the cup of others' struggles, fears, mistakes, and shortcomings and come down for them? What kind of faith do you want to reflect?"

That's where I'm at right now. I really don't know the answer to those questions. But I know that as I become more involved with my ministry they are questions I'm going to need to address. Feel free to pray for me.

Hi!

The time has come. I made this a few months ago with no idea what to do with it. The title is from a song called... Oh, no. I can't think of the name. One second... "Forever Reign" by Hillsong. It's one of the first songs I ever cried to during worship.

I was on a traveling ministry team and we had just arrived in Australia. We were in this little conference room the retreat center had given us. Just me and my six teammates worshipping, which was one of my favorite things we did. It was hot (being January it makes a whole lot of sense) and a bit muggy.

Let's rewind a bit. Some of my teammates and I decided to stroll along the beach the first night we arrived (I mean, we're about a mile away and it's AUSTRALIA). I was so excited given that the last time I'd been to the ocean I was about eight years old. The excitement was short-lived because as soon as I neared the water I would cower back in fear. What? This is the OCEAN! I'm from Minnesota! I don't see this ever. I should be revelling in this, not shying away! Alas, I was letting my fear get the best of me, as I am wont to do. It's kind of annoying, really.

The entire hour we were walking along the beach I kept daring myself to get into the water and then awkwardly skidding away as the waves hit the sand. I'm not sure if it was the jellyfish all crinkled and washed up every few feet or irrational thought that I could get caught up in a riptide? I'm really not sure what it was, but I just couldn't deal.

Now, you're all caught up and we're in the hot, muggy conference room sitting on the floor worshipping. And we're singing "Forever Reign" when I realize that God wouldn't bring me all the way to Australia for me to die the first night I'm there. Here I am, a twenty-two year old girl that was adopted from India to Minnesota, and was now in a country I've dreamed of visiting. It really feels like God knows what He's doing. And I just knew in that moment He wasn't about to have me die after doing so much to bring me to Australia.

I think in that moment I loved the imagery of running to His arms and jumping into them for the best hug ever imaginable! One where I can cling to Him for as long as I want and ain't nobody about to say a thing. And the idea that God's love will always be enough! It will always be more than enough! Ugh, I just really needed to hear that and proclaim it while crying in a tiny room in Australia.

So, that's the story of the first time I cried while worshipping. Thanks for reading!