1. Lack of financial provision/resources.
2. Lack of adequate experience/professional development.
3. Lack of strength/stamina needed to serve with excellence. 
4. Lack of [insert something else here because the list goes on....]

A few of my close friends have recently expressed their concern with what is lacking in my life. Since the semester ended, I have been working on raising support to spend another year doing campus ministry. And I have to admit, with a little over one third of my budget raised and my two month departure from the States just a week away, I was a little concerned too. 

I hit a point last week when I just needed to pause what I was doing and start seeking God more intently. I realized that I was strategically thinking about how to overcome what is seemingly lacking instead of trusting God to guide me to what He has promised me: another year investing in the lives of college students at my alma mater.

I set aside two days to do nothing but pray, process and seek God's guidance. During that time, one of my Facebook friends posted this excerpt from a sermon by Francis Chan.


I went on to listen to both sermons in this series called "Fearless".  Wow, two hours of straight truth. If you want a challenge and encouragement, listen to these messages. His major point is derived from Psalm 23: The Lord is my shepherd, I lack not, and I will not fear because God is with me.

Any concern I have about what I seemingly lack shows a distrust in God and His ability to shepherd. As I confront the reality that I have spent the last few weeks living from a place of fear, I am humbly reminded of one of my favorite scriptures:

"Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom." - Luke 12:32

 (I am also reminded of that scene in Donnie Darko where the gym teacher is talking about the lifeline of fear versus love, and then I laugh at myself and move forward...)

Any way you look at it, were are not supposed to live out of a place of fear regarding what we lack because everything we need has already been provided by a loving God.

" For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:17

Hmm,  maybe that crazy teacher in the film did have something right: an understanding of Love is the opposite of a life of fear  (1 John 4:18). [Though, reverence and fear of God are the beginning of wisdom.. but holy fear is another topic all together.]  I'm grateful for the reminder that the Lord is my shepherd, He will never leave me, and because of His love...

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the LORD. Forever." Psalm 23:6

Now back to regularly scheduled programming- another week of support raising. I trust that God will be with me and everything will work out one way or another. In the meanwhile, I am adopting one of our church's core values -that someone kindly reminded me of recently- as a personal support raising mantra.

"Work like it depends on you, pray like it depends on God." -  Pastor Mark Batterson.

I elegantly wrote a status update about loneliness, solitude and penguins late the other night; out of fear that it would be misconstrued, I never posted it. Because I cannot remember those fine words, here is a blog on the same topic sans the penguins.

According to the Oxford Dictionary: 

Loneliness =  sadness because one has no friends or company.
Solitude = the state or situation of being alone.

Okay, here is one socially awkward penguin.

If I told you that I was lonely, you might inquire why and perhaps offer me some companionship. If I told you that I was spending the evening in solitude, you would be more likely to affirm that being away from people is a good idea. The question is where is the line between the two.

At what point does solitude become loneliness? And, when do the lonely begin to embrace isolation as welcomed solitude?

As a hybrid introvertly centered extrovert, I often wonder where the tipping point is - I sometimes crave solitude, but I rarely like feeling lonely.  Do the two ever overlap? Does loneliness ever have a positive connotation? And, why do we generally assume that solitude is only achieved when desired?

Well, after some pondering, I realize that the two descriptions are not as closely related as we might think. One can be awfully lonely in a crowded room, and perhaps even find solitude in it if there is an element of isolation. However, we often forget that solitude is a state of being, and loneliness is an emotion.

When we are isolated or alone, we are in solitude. That is a fact. However, the state of being does not determine the attitude or the emotion that accompanies it.  Solitude sometimes involves a decision to be alone, but loneliness is always a choice to continue to feel sad about being alone. It is an active decision to focus on the lack of companionship in our lives. Truth be told, while it is not good for man to be alone, I often wonder how much of loneliness is misdirected idolatry because we hold others and their opinions of us higher than we should.

Personally, I think that loneliness can be a great thing. It is a red flag that out lives are not prioritized the way that they should be. In times of loneliness, we recognize that our purpose is to be in relationship with Jesus and to encourage others to do the same, that our heart desires more than this world has to offer, and that our lives are still being refined as we are creatures of emotion. I may have posted this before, but A.W. Tozer says it well:

"The loneliness of the Christian results from his walk with God in an ungodly world... It is this very loneliness that throws him back upon God. His inability to find human companionship drives him to seek in God what he can find nowhere else." - A.W. Tozer; "The Loneliness of the Christian"

If solitude means being only with God and/or being the only one building His Kingdom, it should be a joy and a privilege.  Seeing it differently is a great indication that we need to refocus on the Lord because He offers joy and peace and hope beyond what any human companionship could offer. Moreover, continued loneliness is a refusal to choose to live in the freedom of Christ.

Now, let's not allow solitude to escape this conversation unscathed. Solitude is a state of being, but a temporary one. To constantly choose solitude over relationship with others is to neglect our role in the Gospel.  The greatest commands are to love God and to love people. To love God requires time alone with God in solitude. To love people requires actually spending time with people. Jesus often retreated to pray alone, but He always returned to spend time with both His close friends and the communities through which He traveled. If all our time is spend in solitude, we are totally missing the opportunity to share God's love with others; which at the end of the day, means that we aren't love God as fully as we could either.

All that to say that solitude is a factual statement about our current condition while loneliness is an attitude that is proscribed to that state of being.

As pastor Charles Swindoll is popularly quoted with saying:

"The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past. We cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable... The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude ... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me, and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you ... we are in charge of our Attitudes."

The proper response to both loneliness and solitude is often asking God for an attitude adjustment and for a deeper love for both the Creator and the people He has created. This word study is certainly directing me back toward God; praying for a realignment toward God's heart in my own life.

In December, I got my lip pierced. In February, I had to change the lip ring to a bigger size to help it heal.  Yesterday, I decided it was healed enough to change out the rings and move back to the smaller one.

So, I took the bead out of the ring. Then, for whatever reason, decided that I would wait to change the ring to the smaller size. As I attempted to put the bead back in, I lost it. I then drove to the piercer, got another bead. When I got home, I discovered that bead was too large for the ring. Out of fear of losing the piercing in my sleep, I decided that I would use the bead from the smaller ring temporarily until the next day when I could visit the piercing shop.

I popped the bead in, and it was in place, but seemed loose. I attempted to apply a little bit of pressure to hold it in place. And... well, the bead popped out and this is what happened...

Outside of my apartment I can hear the cheers of crowds, the car horns blasting in celebration.... on the screen in front of me there are dozens of status updates and tweets- inviting everyone to party in front of the White House, rejoicing in a man's eternity in hell, and championing the American dream.

While I commend the U.S. intelligence officers for completing their mission and send my condolences to all of the families who lost loved ones at the hands of this evil man, I cannot and will not rejoice in death regardless of how great the evil committed. 

Eliminating one man does not eliminate evil. It eliminates one man. It may stir hope in millions of people and fury in hundreds of others. And the cycle continues. There are others who commit evil and who celebrate death of innocents. The man who was killed today was far from innocent, but by celebrating his death where exactly are we placing our hope? If our hope is in bullets and missiles and destruction, how are we any different than the evil we fight against? 

"Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, declares the Lord God, and not rather he should turn from his way and live?" - Ezekiel 18:23

My hope is not in dead bodies; my hope is life greater than evil. There is a party in the streets to rejoice in death, instead of prayer for  peace.

From a bird's eye view, the celebration here looks very similar to our enemies' celebration when they kill those they find threatening. Instead of rejoicing tonight, I am praying tonight.

Praying for our brothers and sisters around the world who are still in harms way. Our celebration may be the very fuel that fires bullets in their direction. May God's peace transcend the chaos.


-------------

Edit: Also check out my roommate's thoughts at her blog. Here's a sample: "What I do find wonder in is the fact that one man’s death can redeem our planet. " It's worth reading.... click here.

To be honest, this week has been a rough one for me. I've found myself in tears a few times.  Again, I'm not sad or depressed or upset.... I just feel a little caged. Like a bird staring through iron bars, I have this desire to fly, but cannot seem to figure out how to open the latch so that I can go free.

Not sure whose tattoo this is, but I love it.

As I was pondering the open skies, I came across a Desiring God post regarding types freedom, and this reflection stuck with me.

And if you have the desire to do something, and the ability to do it, and the opportunity to do it, but it destroys you in the end, you are not fully free—not free indeed.

It's Easter. I've heard the story dozens of times, but today there is a verse of scripture haunting me like it never has before.

 ^"He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?" - John 20:15

 Today was a fantastic day. I have an amazing friend visiting from overseas, I have amazing roommates, we had an amazing time feeding forty college students dinner... and most importantly, we celebrated the amazing resurrection of an awesome God. Perfect day.

Except... today has involved a bit of crying. I cried this morning at church, I cried after talking to my family, I cried listening to my roommate sing a song about today, and I just cried after everyone went to bed. They aren't tears of sadness or tears of joy; they're just tears.

And, all day, I believe that God has been asking me "woman, why are you crying? who is it you are looking for?".  Good question. One that I could not sufficiently answer.

As I pondered that question, I was reminded of how Mary responded. She was looking for her Lord. He seemed dead and distant from her. He had both relationally and physically disappeared from her life. Not only was Jesus dead, but his body wasn't even in sight. If she knew where he was, she would have went after Him, but the situation seemed hopeless because she had no direction.

Here was Jesus, posing the question. "Why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?". He was right in front of her, yet she did not recognize Him until He called her name. It is interesting to note that He didn't call her name until she stated why she was downcast and expressed a desire to find Him.

The Lord is asking, "Woman, why are you crying?". And, I am reminded who it is that I am looking for and who it is that I serve. If He is Risen, and He has Risen indeed, why am I crying?

Often times, I think we live life perpetually through the eyes of Mary at the beginning of the day. I find myself weeping because my Lord is not here, weeping because they persecuted Him, weeping because I don't understand how God will be glorified through dismal circumstances, weeping because I know that Jesus died with me in mind. and I have no idea of where to find Him.  We have a tendency to leave Jesus crucified and buried and seemingly missing from our present circumstances.

The Good News is that Jesus isn't in the tomb. He isn't missing. He is risen! He rose from the grave, He ascended into heaven, and He will come again. The Good News is that He is the first fruits of new life, and that the Spirit that rose Christ from the dead lives in each who believe in Him. He is alive and everything is possible through Him; we do not have to weep because He is here with us, gently calling our name like He called Mary's on that morning.

Which brings me back to the question: "Why am I crying?" I have tunnel vision. I'm too focused on the cross and  consequently I'm missing Jesus standing right in front of me. I leave Christ buried while sobbing to find Him.  The truth is that even in the most dismal and confusing of circumstances, He is Risen and is right here.  He is already speaking even in moments when I do not recognize His voice, and if I continue to look for Him with intention, He will continue to call my name. 

He is risen. He is Risen indeed. Alleluia.

I hate manuscripts. I don't speak well from them. They make me nervous. They draw out my speech impediments and my accent, and they hinder my ability to recall information because of my semi-photographic memory. I would much rather speak on the fly or from a brief outline than write out all of my thoughts. In fact, I am generally very adamant that I cannot and will not speak if I have to script out my words.

With that in mind, last night I spoke at our worship service. My message was on Romans 7, and as I shared my thoughts on why our attempt at perfectionism is a futile endeavor, the stand in front of me held both my standard outline and script of a thirty minute message. I would love to tell you that I spoke mainly from the outline, extemporaneously, animated, and in typical Kera fashion.

The truth is I didn't. I didn't read it verbatim, but I used the manuscript. I stumbled at places, my accent was thicker than normal, and quite frankly, it wasn't up to par with my public speaking capabilities because I didn't speak in Kera style.... 

However, I do think I shared what I was supposed to say, used the examples I was supposed to use, and asked the questions I was supposed to ask. I have a peace about last night which is more than I can say about the last time I spoke. After hours upon hours of tackling a difficult passage in study and prayer, I knew I had to script it out more like an essay of understanding and revelation than a verbal sharing of insight and teaching from experience. 

I can easily become prideful when it comes to my communication ability, but last night I was humbled. Not because I failed to stay true to my style, but because I finally realized that my life has little to do with me. It's all about sharing the message given to me and alive within me. Sometimes that will mean praying about how to articulate it and writing it out, sometimes it will mean speaking on the fly as the words come to mind.... regardless, it isn't about me or my style or my message. It's all about God and what He wants to say through me. 

I must confess that I normally am a bit judgmental of those who speak or preach from a manuscript. I have always seen it as a lesser form of public speaking, and because I can throw together an impromptu speech with confidence, I have always seen myself a bit above those who cannot do so. Last night, I gained some respect for those who use manuscripts and was reminded that the style isn't as important as the willingness to share. 

I don't think that manuscripts will be making regular appearances in my life, simply because I am a better speaker semi-extemporaneously than I am scripted.  Even so, I know that I will think twice before making generalizations about what I will or will not do and before judging those who are stylistically different then me. It isn't about what we do or how we do it; it's about why we do it and who we do it for...

I'm grateful that God uses me, whether in my element or not, whether at my best or at my worst... if I'm willing, He'll use me somehow for His glory. And, I'm continually reminded that this life I live has very little to do with me.