Nets Equipped

Before reading this poem, take in all the fullness of this verse: 

"Now may the God of peace, Who brought up from the dead our Lord Jesus-the great Shepherd of the sheep--with the blood of the everlasting covenant, equip you with all that is good to do His will, working in us what is pleasing in His sight through Jesus Christ. 

Glory belongs to Him forever and ever. Amen.  (Hebrews 13:20-21)

And note this definition: 

Equip: Greek, Katartízō: "to refit, repair, mend that which is broken such as the nets (Matt 4:21; Mark 1:19). Metaphorically of a person in error, to restore, set right (Gal 6:1)... meaning to make a perfect fit, suitable, such as one should be, deficient in no part. Of persons (Luke 6:40; I Cor 1:10; II Cor 13:11; Heb 13:21; I Pet 5:10). ¹

And finally, enjoy this quote that together with the verses and definition above inspired this poem: 

"God mends our pasts to tend to our futures. Every time we've been broken and then allowed God to repair us, that meaning becomes part of our equipping. All the pain we've endured. All the abuse and misuse. Every betrayal. Every wound. Where God mends, He equips...Don't you see it? If we still have life and breath, God can re-purpose every shred of havoc the Devil wreaks." ²

 

Nets Equipped

I had a few nets for various uses,
But over the years, they raveled and tore.
Heart break, mistakes, troubles, abuses.
With holes--why then fish? Thus confined to the shore,
I still wanted for more.
I'd cleaned out the bait shop; what else could I do?
Exhausted resources--I'd bought every thread.
I was out of commission--yet under review.
Nothing but failure looming ahead.
My heart filled with dread.
This was my profession, my sole form of living;
Without it--no purpose or feeling worthwhile.
But then I met Him--a kind man so giving.
He looked at me fondly and said with a smile,
"Hand them here, child."
With gentle hands the faulty nets tending,
He gave an offer to repair them to me.
And though I still felt they were much beyond mending,
I nodded a yes and said, "If you please."
He worked faithfully.
The material He used though seemed rather creative,
Especially on holes seemingly beyond repairing.
His methods--so seamless, so interrelated. 
So different and beautiful, I found myself staring.
Then He spoke to me, sharing:
"I repaired this with silver to meet someone's needs
And this one with flowers for planting of seeds.
I repaired this with Kleenex® to dry someone's tears
And this one with wavelengths to give you listening ears.
I repaired this with silly string to bring someone laughter
And this one with lumber--help rebuild from disaster.
I repaired this with heart strings to give you compassion
And this one with linen that you're clothed in strength's fashion.
I repaired this with diapers for the next generation
And this one with plane tickets to reach every nation.
I repaired this with darkness so the light is comparable
And this one with nothing for the impossible is repairable."
I have a few nets for various uses.
They all have their patches, an occasional rip.
But each net Christ mends. Opportunity produces
So that every single morning I will launch my ship.
My nets are equipped.

¹ Spiros Zodhiates, The Complete Word Study Dictionary: New Testament (Iowa Falls, IA: World Bible Publishers Inc.,1992).

   ²  Beth Moore, Children of the Day: I and II Thessalonians (Nashville, TN: Lifeway Press, 2014).

I Drank My Coffee Black: Lessons from the Portland Journey

I'm writing from Blue Kangaroo, a coffee shop near my home in SouthEast Portland. As I sip on my Americano, I reflect on how the Lord has been changing my heart over these past few months; the cup in my hand really speaks to the issue.

When I moved to Portland, I greatly disliked coffee. In my stubborn pride, I looked in disdain at every cup all these Portlanders drank. That stuff was bitter and wasn't to my liking. So was tea. And I told people so. 

Then one day in October, I was standing in line at a Starbucks waiting to get coffee with a student and I randomly felt like the Holy Spirit told me to get a mocha instead of my typical hot cocoa.  I didn't want to, but the next thing I knew, I'd paid the cashier for a mocha with soy and I was sitting at my table with my undesired beverage. My student had heard me order and was on the verge of a heart attack from the excitement of me finally learning to drink coffee. I tried it. It wasn't bitter. It actually....wasn't all that bad. 

Weeks turned into months and slowly I began to wean myself off the sweeter coffees until last week when the moment of truth came. Sitting with that same non-believing student, I drank my first whole cup of black coffee. And it was delicious! She asked me what had made me change my mind. The Spirit brought my coffee journey full circle as I had opportunity to speak freely about Jesus through these two things I've learned:

1. Bitter isn't always bad.

Neither is a gray cloudy sky. Or rules. Or even death. Each of these contrasts their opposite: sweetness, sunshine, grace, life. Without them, we wouldn't have a proper knowledge of the world and our blessings. And with them, we get to experience new dimensions of the fullness of joy He has for us here. Bitterness adds new possibilities for our tastebuds. Gray has so many beautiful shades and turns the Willamette river silver. Rules create a framework for organized living. And death can finalize a life well lived and usher a redeemed child into the Presence of God. 

2. Love must be relevant.

Until a couple of weeks ago, quite a few precious brothers and sisters in Christ had tried to get this across to me (you know who you are--THANK YOU), but I had such an attitude, I couldn't see the truth the Lord was literally screaming through them, trying to get my attention.  Then on March 1st, Ken, Joshua, and I went to Seattle for a conference on how to better reach international students. One of the speakers said, "Don't look at your international students as a group of people who need charity or pity because they didn't grow up in the U.S. Praise God they didn't grow up here! They have a different and unique world view; God has given you an incredible opportunity to learn by bringing the diversity of His heart right to your community. Humble yourself. Learn. And love AFTER you learn about the ways they connect to God. To try to teach them God from your worldview alone is futile; you want them to be able to not only grasp and accept Jesus as their Savior but to be able to carry Him back to their cultural contexts." 

The Lord used that comment to shake some sense into me. And it hadn't just been in international ministry that I'd expressed the "they just have to get used to the way I love" mentality. It had manifested itself many places, even with people from my own childhood culture. Sometimes love looks like a cup of coffee, that I've learned to actually enjoy, along with this cultural context I'm learning to call home. Sometimes love looks like eating grape leaves diped in olive oil and vinegar with a smile for the sake of the gospel even if a piece of me is dying with every chew; it looks like trying it again...and again...because I refuse to be hindered in ministry because my tastebuds are trying to run my life. Sometimes love means learning to appreciate video games so I can connect with my students who love them. Sometimes love is staying out of someone's bubble because they are not a hug person, even though I am. It's not about how I feel or what I want. If I want to encourage, sometimes I need to first stop throwing up discouragement on them by my complaining, and then begin to listen to find how to build them up. Love can't be demanded, manipulated, or used. If I'm truly seeking to love them, it's not about me--it's about them and it's about Jesus.

It is my desire that as we walk our separate journeys, the Lord will grow us all in these areas of faith. I pray that I will continue to be open to His changing my heart, as I know I still have a long way to go in learning to love like Jesus. 

For love seeks not her own. 

Lord, let it be true. 

And begin in me. 

Maybe I should tackle green tea next...

Aim Adjustment

Frustration. Anger. Pity Party.

Emotions frozen on my face. 

Love, joy, and peace-filled? Hardly.

More like jealous, self-abased.

Still I longed for friends' approval

Thus I set my sights, my aim.

Thinking that by exhaustion's removal

Rest I would finally gain.

But is rest truly the opposite

Of exhaustion or is there something more?

Is rest truly competent

To equal fullness, fully restored?

Or must there be an element

That translates rest to strength?

That makes approval relevant?

That allows for peace at length?

Deep down I knew there had to be

So all the more I sought.

True friendship I attempted to see,

But the more I struggled, the more we fought.  

I felt the feelings of a kid.

Friends felt my floundering, too.

Nothing to give. Every step a skid.

"I'm not enough. I cannot do."

A day of mercy unexpected,

An hour of hope, a word of grace.

Suddenly--conversations connected. 

Maybe I could find my place.

For the first time I saw beyond

The end I had fought for so.

And with that facade finally gone

I saw I'd set my sights quite low.

When the approval of man was a must,

I'd chained myself to failure's fate.

By demanding my friends' love and trust,

I'd wearied myself with worthlessness' weight. 

In seeking to not be a child,

I'd displayed some of the most immature traits.

And while claiming rest meant recompiled,

I'd forgotten the One Who must reinstate. 

Or maybe I didn't forget Him truly...

Maybe I never really knew His heart. 

Perhaps this called for seeking newly; 

Perhaps this called for a clean, fresh start.

Who is this God I claim as mine?

What is my identity? 

What will happen if I find

The power of a His presence fully?

What will happen if I hear

His heart-song over me?

What does it mean to reverantly fear

The God of Eternity?

Yet not quite there, I thought, "I get it!

If I seek God's approval, I'll get man's indeed."

Gently, He said, "No child. Quit it.

Seek My approval, and it's all you'll need.

Pursue My Love, and you'll overflow;

You'll have excess to give.

Be a woman who my heart knows; 

Then trustworthiness you'll live.

Adorn yourself with humble compassion

And in all who you meet you will beauty see.

Carry yourself as Jesus-fashioned.

It's not about you. It's all about Me."

I felt grateful tears melt frustration

And realized they no longer stemmed from defeat.

Not "I am not enough" desperation.

Rather, "He is exhaustive; He is complete."