Monthly Archives: August 2015

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Travesty

Sometimes I read something and have to blink back tears.

Tonight I was scanning the news and saw an article about mass illegal immigration from Serbia and beyond through the Hungarian border to reach Western Europe. This has probably been happening for a long time, and I don’t ever pretend to be on top of things. But, tonight, the article was highlighted because of Hungary’s recent decision to seal the border with massive barbed wire and walls.

Accompanying this article was a brutal description of deaths: refugees found floating to shore from capsized boats in the Mediterranean, photos of little girls with hair tangled up in barbed wire, a freezer truck dumped at the border oozing decomposed bodies of Syrians who were trapped inside. They found a baby in there, by the way.

What is this dark world? Why? Sin? Evil? Travesty after travesty?

I can’t call it tragic because it’s expected. Sin has infected

Trending

The cross is an instrument of torture. It’s the symbol of who we are in Christ, God’s love, his sacrifice, his awesome grace and cleansing blood.  We wear it around our necks, paste it to our walls, build wooden versions of it on our church steeples. We see it so much….have we forgotten what it means?

Bible studies, sermons, small groups, fellowship, even communion and baptism….we have become desensitized to their significance and purpose. Our society has gripped the church and turned it into a selfish, experience-driven buffet that seeks to stuff us with bloated, boring, banal.

We are tired. We refuse to admit it. We are hungry. We don’t know why.

Oh, how the American church has lost its focus! Who can ascend the holy hill of the Lord anymore, as the Psalmist cried out?

Do we pray for Paul’s words to be true in our lives, that we might count everything as loss compared

T-minus

Year 3 is flashing a cruel smile of daunting proportions.

The City has welcomed me back with its usual carelessness. My friends, and Bible College as a whole, however, have been shining the light of Christlike encouragement back into my heart. I am not alone, and am surrounded by precious souls, kids, really, seeking to minister to the broken and chase after the face of our Lord.

I am eager to dig in. I am frightened about what I have to do. I am delighted in what papers, what research, and what projects I have before me. I want to crawl in a hole and let someone else do them for me. I don’t want to have to do an internship. I’m scared.

At the end of summer, and the beginning of a new chapter in my life, God led me to Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians. Sitting here and feeling unprepared, insufficient,