Jesus Fought for Me

I was watching a movie with my family the other night and beyond all the special effects and high action scenes, there was a human story about an absentee father trying to relate to his estranged 11 year old son.  At the emotional arc of the film, the frustrated father exasperatedly asks "What do you want from me?!"  To which his son responds, with tears in his eyes, "I want you to fight for me, that's all I've ever wanted."

Isn't that the truth?  As humans we long to be fought for.  We want to know we're valued enough for someone to risk their comfort, safety, and security for our own.  Whether it's a chivalrous gentleman defending our honor or a friend standing in our corner, we want someone to tell us we're worth it.  I know I do.

As I pondered this fictional son's heartbreaking request to his father, I was reminded of all the beautiful and valiant ways Jesus has fought for me.

When the doctors said I wasn't supposed to live past the age of 10, Jesus fought for me.

When fear crept into my heart and tried to overcome me, Jesus fought for me.

When there were more tears than laughter, Jesus fought for me. 

When financial provision seemed impossible, Jesus fought for me.

When I was so entangled in my own sin that I could not see His light, Jesus fought for me.

When I thought I was an orphan and alone, Jesus fought for me.

When I was heartbroken, Jesus fought for me.

When I ignored Him, Jesus fought for me.

When the world told me there was no way, Jesus fought for me.

When I felt rejected, Jesus fought for me.

When I told Him that I didn't need His help, Jesus fought for me.

When I was too weak to stand, Jesus fought for me.

When I was dead in my sin, Jesus fought for me.  Bled for me.  Died for me.

And He fights for me still.  Ever present and eternally faithful. 

Perhaps God created us with this need to be fought for so that when we see Jesus once again - riding on the clouds with blood on His robe and fire on His eyes - we would know...

He's coming for His Bride.

He's coming for me.  

He's coming to fight for me.

Straight-A Daughter

"I would send you a bouquet of newly
sharpened pencils if I knew your name and
address."  Tom Hanks in You've Got Mail

As of last Tuesday, a new semester has officially begun.  Aside from giving up reading for pleasure, free time, and sleeping in, I really love going back to school.  I love the structure of it.  I love buying new books with hopes of mastering their contents.  I love reading syllabuses and planning assignments.  And I've always secretly wanted to receive a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils during  the back to school season

Actually, I've loved learning for as long as I can remember.  I recall sitting in the backseat of our Toyota hatchback on long drives and asking my mom to quiz me with math problems and spelling words.  When I'm learning, it's like I can actually feeling my brain neurons firing and making connections.  Learning, growing, expanding.  I love that feeling.  Challenging my intellect is one of the things that makes me feel alive. 

This feeling simmered in my heart as I moved back home in 2010 to finish my undergrad.  I began taking classes, writing papers, and giving presentations, all to my heart's delight.  But there was something more beneath the surface than my pure love of learning... I had a record to keep.  You see, I've never gotten a B.  School has always been defined by one letter for me: A.  Luckily, academics came easy and I excelled.  But as middle school, high school, and my first couple years of college scrolled by with straight A's, it became more than nice fact or accomplishment.  It became my identity.

Isn't it funny how we, as humans, love to keep track of perfect records?  No cavities, no speeding tickets, no B's.  There's something in people that desperately wants to earn approval based on good behavior - me being chief among them.  I was so terrified of breaking my record and getting anything less than an A, that I would sacrifice relationships, sleep, and ultimately sanity to focus on my studies.  (Bursting into tears over 20 page term papers as if my world was crumbling can not be deemed sane in my opinion.)

The breaking point came last spring semester.  I was taking 18 credits at school, a Hebrew class on top of that, working 25 hours a week, and volunteering for a non-profit.  People would look at me in amazement when I described my schedule.  I was often asked, "How do you do it?"  Or boosted with the occasional, "Well, if anyone can do it, it's you Chelsea."  I would always respond with a light hearted laugh, shrug my shoulders, and say "Oh, you know" with a sparkling smile, as if it didn't phase me.  But in reality, I had stretched myself so thin that I was snapping in every direction.  The end of the semester found me with straight A's, but little else.  I was exhausted, burn out, and hadn't read my Bible in a month. 

One night I finally asked the question, why am I so terrified of not getting an A?  Almost immediately I recognized that "4.0 Chelsea" had become my identity.  Over the years, I knew that I wasn't the funniest girl or the prettiest, but I was smart - I knew I was smart.   I had built my world around that one fact.  And if I got a B (a grade I felt would brand me of average intelligence),then who was I?  What made me special?  It was that fear drove me to over work, over extend, and over achieve.

But then Abba came and whispered,  

Be a Daughter.  

Being a daughter doesn't require anything of you.  

You do not earn the title based on your own virtue, rather it is bestowed on you simply because I am your Father.  

Daughters are at rest. 

The Father's sweet words gave me freedom and purpose.  He continued on, I've sent you back to school for more than straight A's.  You are to bring my Light to your campus.  Chelsea, I'd rather you get B's because you were spending your time sharing the gospel and praying for the sick, than get A's because all you did was study.

I was completely overwhelmed.  He blew my box wide open and faces of the 60,000 students on my campus flashed through my mind.  I began to weep as compassion overtook me and all I wanted was for each of them to know the glorious love that eclipsed my heart. 

Now, at the beginning of a new year and new semester, I smile in light of all the Lord has done.  I am more passionate about the gospel and evangelism than I have ever been in my entire life.  And while I still want to fulfill my coursework with excellence, peace - not fear - defines me.

"In the place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’ they will be called ‘children of the living God.'"     Hosea 1:10

How would you like to join my Purpose Driven Life?

A couple of weeks ago, a co-worker asked me if I had found "the love of my life" yet.  I informed him that I had not and explained that I'm trusting God to divinely ordain that situation.  Additionally, I explained to him that I have pretty high standards.  I want to spend my life with someone who wants to live the same kind of international, faith lifestyle I do - committed to fighting injustice and shining Jesus' glorious light.  Aware of my extreme moral convictions, my unbelieving co-worker looked at me quizzically and matter-of-factly replied "Geez, you're never gonna find anyone."

Thankfully, his words did not pierce, but simply afforded me a good laugh.  It's true, to a world who has not known the beautiful and faithful love of my Father, my romantic future may look bleak.  But in my heart, there is perfect peace. 

Let's just hope that when God does bring my husband along, that he NEVER uses one of these pick-up lines!  Yikes!

  

I just don't feel called to celibacy.

For you, I would slay two Goliaths.

You are so unblemished that I would sacrifice you.

At points in my life I have been referred to as Samson.

The word says "Give drink to those who are thirsty, and feed the hungry"  How about dinner?

I didn't believe in predestination until tonight.  (personal favorite)

I believe one of my ribs belongs to you.

I can be your Boaz.

My spiritual gift is my good looks.

Is this the transfiguration.. because you are glowing.

Mark Driscoll takes up 35% of my ipod memory.  (I would actually be OK with this...)

I have many sponsor children - one in each developing nation.

Now I know why Solomon had 700 wives... because he never met you.

Is that a thinline, duo-tone, compact, ESV Bible in your pocket?  (I have that Bible!)

How many times do I have to walk around you to make you fall for me?

How would you like to join my Purpose Driven Life?

Let me remove my sandals before I come any closer.

Feel free to meet me at the threshing floor.
 
I have a bible verse tattoo.  It's permanent.  It's also in ancient Greek.

Have you died before?  Because that looks like a resurrection body to me.

I mentioned you in my testimony.

Laughter is the best medicine...

Airplanes are No Place for Tears

Wonderful New Years Eve dinner with Spokane Friends!

2012 is officially in full swing.  This reality seems to be crashing in on me today, it being my first day back at work after the holiday and school starting up again in just two short weeks (yikes!).  Part of me wishes that I could just squeeze my eyes closed tight and go back to holidays and vacations.  My holidays were spent with my lovely family, but for New Years, I charted my course northwest!  For five days I enjoyed the love and conversation of treasured friends in beautiful Spokane, Washington, only to force myself onto a Denver bound airplane yesterday and make my way home.

As I looked out the window of the plane at the outline of Spokane, organized on the ground like children's building blocks, tears filled my eyes.   My heart had come alive in the presence of friends and the company of beloved community.  Now, I was leaving a home to go home - and conflict wrestled in my heart.  As my tears increased and began blur my vision, I suddenly remembered crying on an airplane almost exactly four years ago. 

It was a cold January day in 2008 and I was going to Cyprus for the first time.  I had just said goodbye to my family, knowing I wouldn't see them for six months, and boarded a plane headed half-way across the world because I had read a website and heard a whisper from the Holy Spirit.  I felt scared and uncertain and just sat in my seat and let the tears flow freely down my face (it wasn't even a soft gentle crying - it was my ugly cry - complete with face contortion, mascara running, and sharp inhaling).  After a few moments, a sweet older woman claimed the aisle seat.  She took one look at me, her eyes full of compassion, leaned over and said, "Sweetheart, airplanes are no place for tears.  I don't know where you're going or who you've just said goodbye to, but there is a great adventure waiting for you."

Little did I know at the time that she was so, so right.  I eventually stopped crying and those next six months in the Mediterranean were some of the most adventurous, beautiful, and wonderful of my life.  All those warm memories flooded my conscious yesterday as we soared over the Continental Divide on our way to Colorado.  I reminded myself that although it was heart wrenching to leave the friends and community that have become so close to my heart, that my Father was calling me onward.  He has great and immeasurable plans for me in this season.  I don't want to miss them.

A pastor friend of mine says that the very nature of the call of God is upward.  I have found solace in that truth yesterday, last night, and today.  He beckons me to move forward, upward, onward.  So rather than lament on what I have left, I will set my eyes ahead of me - focused on His call and attentive to His voice.  After all, how am I supposed to see Him and what He wants to do in me with all these tears clouding my vision?

Here I go.

Crushes on Dead Men and Theology in Movies

John Calvin

In high school I started going to a new youth group at a local church.  I met lots of new people, made some life long friends, and learned a bunch of theology.  You see, this church youth group wasn't like the ones you may be familiar with.  We had fun like most, but rather than playing endless games of Have you ever? and freeze tag, we dissected systematic theology and pondered dispensationalism.  We were a bit intense.  I was also introduced to a guy there.  He said things I had never heard before.  He was wise and intellectual.  He glorified God's sovereignty and had an affinity for tulips.  After a while the inevitable happened - I developed a crush on him.  I was smitten with John Calvin.  

Me at the John Calvin
statue in Geneva

Some may see this as problematic considering the fact that Calvin died in 1564 (and there's that intense beard issue), but I was more concerned with Calvin's writings and doctrine.  John Calvin is famous in church history for propagating the notion of God predestining humans for salvation, and every other aspect of life, based on five theologic points that spell out the acronym, TULIP.  I was enthralled with Calvinism and the solace I found in believing God was in control of literally everything.  This theological crush was my entry point into Reformed Theology.  Over the next few years, my friends and I spent hours debating theology and stayed up to all hours of the night listening to John Piper sermons... for fun.  It was a very Jesus-nerd stage of life.  I was a bona-fide 5-point Calvinist, committed to the teachings of God's sovereignty, and considered free will a dirty word, or two words rather.

A lot has changed since those days, some of which I wrote about in a previous post.  While I still love a lot of Reformed thinking and have kept some of it in my current hodgepodge of eclectic theology, I have digressed into a 2.5 point Calvinist and acknowledged that I really don't understand it all.  Although I am in a new season of being content with not knowing all the answers, investigating the ways of God still fascinates me and I am constantly intrigued by the small things that shape my view of Him.

One such moment came when watching the film The Adjustment Bureau.  That's right folks, a secular movie was instrumental in shaping my theology [gasp]!  While this is something that I swore I would never EVER do, times have changed and I was actually really provoked by a quote at the end of the film.  For those of you who haven't seen the movie, I don't want to spoil it for you, but the basic story line is that an unseen organization called the Adjustment Bureau (led by the God-like mysterious "Chairman") predestines the future of humans until one day, a man (Matt Damon) tries to fight for his own fate.  At the very end, a member of the Adjustment Bureau closes the film by saying, "I think that's the Chairman's real plan ... maybe, one day, we won't write the plan. You will."  [Insert my mind warping, making connections, and thinking at a hundred miles an hour here.]  The credits rolled and I just sat there, pondering that thought.  

After some time and reflection, here is my hypothesis.  We know that God is abounding in love for us because He is a good Father.  And like any good father, He is going to make choices for us that are in our best interest.  This makes Him no more of a crazed power-weilding divine dictator than an earthly father who chooses nutritious food and warm clothes for his children.  The choices are in our best interests.  

But, just like when we grew up and our parents began to let us make our own choices about what we wore, ate, read, watched, and played, God also allows His children greater freedom as they grow into maturity.  I fully believe that when Jesus has returned and we are living in His glorious kingdom, He will delegate responsibilities to us, allowing us to rule and reign with Him.  (P.S. I totally call dibs on establishing a righteous and just government with Jesus someday!)  So in light of this, maybe life is one big training ground for us in our journey of regeneration and redemption, so that one day we will be equipped to rule with Christ.  That one day I will be so much like my Father in Heaven that He won't have to predestine things in my life - I'll make the choices He would have made for me all along.  

Maybe it isn't an either/or situation between Calvinism and the Armenian free will doctrine - maybe it's both.  Perhaps the Father has prepared seasons of greater predestination and seasons in which He allows us greater use of choice.  This concept would have driven me crazy a few years ago, because it seems so grey.  I firmly believed in absolute, right or wrong, black or white, truth.  But the more I get to know Jesus, I'm realizing that we live most of our life in the grey areas.  As a wise friend and mentor always says, we live life in the tension between two truths - forcing us to constantly rely on Christ to keep us in balance.  For the first time in a long time (maybe ever) I feel like I'm learning to walk this grey tightrope of balance between the two predestination camps.  Does God predestine life for us or do we have free will to make our own choice?  I answer, yes.

So that's the theology that I found in a movie and that's about where I sit with the whole predestination thing right now.  We must acknowledge that predestination exists because Jesus said "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them." (John 6:44) and Paul tells us that "those God foreknew he also predestined." (Romans 8:29).  But what that exactly means, I have no idea.  And I'm okay with that.  For now I'm loving the idea that God predestines parts of our lives out of His great, caring, protective love for us and that someday I'll be like Him.  


And let's face it, that beard really would have been an issue.  Sorry Mr. Calvin.

Where are you in the predestination debate conversation?

Eleven Years

Shannon and I in Jin Li, Chengdu, China

This eleventh month of the year 2011 will mark eleven years of friendship with one of the dearest people I know.  When my family moved back to Colorado in the fall of 2000, I was a lonely 12 year old, uprooted from all I knew and attempting to adjust to the multitude of changes occurring in my life.  My aunt, knowing I was in need of a good friend, set my family and another family up on a "friend blind date" of sorts.  And so, on a chilly November evening, Shannon and I met for the first time at a toy store in our small town.  

Since that day, we have experienced so much together.  We've gone through joys and heartbreaks, close times and seasons where we drifted apart, hilarious adolescence and attempting to figure out this whole adulthood thing.  But through it all, Shannon has been one of the dearest, most faithful of friends.  I remember huddling away in a corner to pray for our future husbands together when we were 13, listening to hours of LaRue, attempting to give Shannon dreadlocks during a weekend in the mountains at age 14, and our first annual all girls camping trip.  But, perhaps my most favorite memory is when we dreamed of going to the nations.  A true kindred spirit, Shan and I would dream about where the Father would call us, how many orphans we'd save, and what languages we'd learn to share the gospel in.  Our hearts bonded while dreaming about reaching a dark and hurting world with the glorious light of the Son.  And that's exactly what we did.

Through the years, we've watched each other go to five continents, swapping Africa stories and laughing about culture shock.  We've loved on those orphans and shared the good news in over 20 countries between the two of us.  And all those years of dreaming about being like Amy Carmichael when we grow up are making this exact moment so much sweeter.

You see, I am in China.

Shannon has been living here for the past year, serving the King we both so ardently love and have pursued together.  Closer now than ever, we talk for hours about the marvels of our King and the beauty of His ever-present grace in our lives.  Watching His work in her has been one of life's greatest pleasures and actually being able to live life with her here for a few days is beyond sweet.  Everyday here I am moved to tears by the goodness of the Father.  He brought us from little girls with big dreams to a place where we are actually living them.

Friendship is one of the Father's most precious gifts to us.  Being able to walk in covenant with another human being through the good and bad times is such a picture of Christ's love for us.  Having someone walk with you who says "I will fight for the Father's best in your life and not allow you to settle for anything else" is truly amazing if we stop and think about.  Friendship allows us to witness another's life, cheering them on along the way.  Shannon has spent the last few years cheering me on, supporting me, and encouraging me while I've been living and serving overseas, and now it's my turn to cheer.  And that's exactly why I'm in China -- cheering on my faithful friend in the work of our Daddy-King.  

Oh, and I am having WAY TOO MUCH FUN doing it!

Oh thank you Father for friendship.

Embracing the Crazy & Learning to Love

This summer, I reached the one year mark of living back in the states.  It was a bittersweet feeling.  I miss the nations in the deep places of my heart, but cherish the sweet lessons I have learned in this year at home.  I have reconnected with friends and mentors, bonded with family, and completed a year of university.  School has been inspiring for a nerd like me, as I'm sure future blogs will reveal.  But perhaps the most important thing I learned at school last year was a lesson in love.

After three years of traveling the world, studying the Bible, and living in a missional community I re-entered the American academic world.  As a political science major, I dusted off my apologetics books and brushed up on my debate arguments.  Enrolled in a "secular college" I was prepared to win people to Christ through the virtue of my argument -- intellectually and logically.  I was tired of accusations that Christians can't use their brains and intended to prove them all wrong.

But then something happened.  First, I realized that nobody was asking the questions I had rehearsed the answers to.  My classmates and professors didn't care about the Council of Niccea, they were just trying to get through today.  I listened to hours of people... hurting.  Looking for love.  Broken.  Purposeless.  Then it hit me, they didn't need an argument, they needed to encounter love.  A love that never ends, never gives up, never fails.  For once they experienced a love like that, I wouldn't need to convince them God was real, they would know it at the core of who they are.  And so I set aside my arguments and picked up the burden of love for my classmates and co-workers. 

I have also been doing what I affectionately call, "embracing the crazy."  Once I allowed myself to let go of logic as a tool of winning my friends to the Kingdom, I realized how crazy we Christians sound -- and I love it!  I believe in a virgin birth and that a God/man's blood allows me to live forever!  Just let that sink in a bit.  Sounds a bit crazy, doesn't it?  But that is the beauty of faith.  God is completely other than us.  He is beyond our reasoning, comprehension, and logic.  So rather than try to intellectualize the indescribable and logically prove the immeasurable, I'm learning to embrace the fact that I don't understand it all.  I have no other explanation other than faith.  It is truly believing in the unseen hope.  I love that I can't fathom all that He is, because if I could, I would limit Him in the finite dimensions of my own mind.  No, my Jesus is limitless.  He is the author of life and sculptor of love.

So I choose to embrace the crazy -- to treasure what is beautifully foreign and unseen.  I never thought I would be the girl championing fluffy love over intellectualism or debate, but my human logic is overrated in the light of God's strong, unchanging, life-giving love.  He is more real than I could ever describe and more loving than I could ever argue.  His love reigns supreme in the universe and it's going to change the world.  Has it changed yours?  Will you let Him in?