The Space Between

Mary has one of the most interesting introductions in the Bible, "Mary, called Magdalene, from whom seven demons had gone out." Luke 8:2.

It’s well-known among Christian circles that she was a prostitute, and in the end a reformed prostitute. She’s the epitome of a resistant woman, one who likely did not come to the Lord easily.

Throughout the gospels we see those who are sick and lame literally reaching out their arms to Jesus for healing. These people sought out Jesus. They were incredibly faithful, never doubting the Lord’s healing power, and were rewarded for such faith.

At the start of Jesus’ ministry he didn’t just heal the sick, he cast out demons. And the New Testament shows a starch contrast in how these people came to Jesus.

They didn’t reach out to him in loving faith like the ill. They were pushed and prodded towards Jesus by family or friends. Loved ones who saw someone they deeply cared about fall away spent time and energy fighting the demon’s resistance in their beloved friend, daughter, brother, lover, and brought them to Jesus for healing. These people wouldn’t have come to Jesus on their own! Demons don’t want to be cast out, they don’t want the body healed, they want to be as far away from the Son as possible.

So what about Mary? She was a prostitute with seven demons. The Bible makes no mention of friends or family pleading on her behalf. And one could guess from her circumstances that she had none. Mary didn’t find Jesus, she couldn’t have. She was running in the complete opposite direction. But that’s the beauty of salvation, we don’t find Jesus, He finds us (she’s quite the encouraging story for those of us with resistant, seemingly impossible loved ones).

Jesus found Mary and cast out her demons, and took her in to be a follower of Christ. He forgave her for her sins and restored her worth. Mary went from feeling dirty, and lost, and unlovable, to clean, and worthy, and loved. He radically changed her life. So like the fishermen, Mary cast her fishnets aside and followed Him.

Mary was no doubt in that first love phase we all have when we first accept the gospel. She was made new, life was good, joy abounded! But Mary’s celebration was short-lived.

Before she knew it, her Savior was hanging on a cross, dying. The man who radically turned her life upside-down, forgiving her for her sins, was dying.

What must it have been like for Mary watching her Savior die on the cross? What must that have been like to finally feel love and then watch that love be destroyed before your very eyes? What was Mary feeling in that moment? Did she feel lied to? Abandoned? Was she ready to give up? Out of bitterness and anger did she think about returning to prostitution now that Jesus was gone? She knew Jesus said he would return from the dead, but as he breathed his last breath, did she question whether he could really be raised from the dead?

Psychologically speaking, and coming from my own sin-tempted experiences, I wouldn’t doubt whether these unbelieving thoughts came to her mind, if only for a fleeting moment. Even for those of us who have been saved, sinful, selfish, hopeless thoughts come to mind sometimes. The difference is, we know that we have an escape from temptation, and know to flee from these thoughts (1 Corinthians 10:13).

The Bible tells us Mary didn’t act on these sinful desires. Praise God! This proves just how transformed her life was. Drowning out her pain would have been an easier way to cope, at least temporarily. But she resisted, she faced the pain head on. Mary spent the next day, Saturday, preparing perfumes as a memorial to the Lord.

No one ever talks about Saturday. There’s Good Friday and Easter Sunday, and as Christians we celebrate both. Friday is a paradoxical day. Tragic in that Jesus was brutally killed, beautiful that He did so for the world. It’s heartbreaking that our sin held him there on the cross, and redeeming that He still wants to pay for the very sin that led him to his death. And by Sunday, He is raised! Celebration abounds. Jesus Messiah, Lord of all, has returned! But what about that 24-hour space between?

I think we’re ashamed of Saturday, so we don’t talk about it.

And the best way to explain this is to look at Saturday from Mary Magdalene’s standpoint, because let’s be honest, we’re not all that different from a reformed prostitute (no matter how much pride tells us otherwise).

If you’ve ever lost a loved one, or undergone any immense loss in your life, you can probably imagine what Saturday was like for Mary. Chances are she didn’t sleep, or eat. She probably cried so hard her eyes hurt. Saturday was a day of darkness, a day of waiting.

Mary KNEW Jesus was supposed to come back the next day, and she was pretty sure she believed him… but he hadn’t come back yet. Saturday was a dark and scary day; it’s the day we have to confront our doubts head on. Do we really believe? Will He really come back tomorrow?

We have to pay attention to Saturday. We have to stand together on Saturday, because it’s the day we doubt. It’s the day we’re too heartbroken to eat or sleep. It’s the day no one wants to talk about because none of us want to admit that there are times in our lives that we re-live Saturday over and over again. We’ve heard the truth, and we know Jesus is coming back, but right now it just doesn’t feel like that’s the case.

Saturday is the day we need each other. The beauty of the gospel is that God not only gave us His Son, He gave us the church, He gave us each other! He gave us a body of loving community and fellowship to be there for one another on the rainy Saturdays to tell our weary friends, “He will rise tomorrow!”

My friends, are you still living in Saturday?

Atonement

Leviticus is one of those books I'm never that fond of reading. I often selfishly see it as something I need to get through, knowing full well that I'll get nothing out of it. Well, at least the first half about all the laws. They just all seem so dated and unnecessary.

But, it's still God's Word, which means there is truth to be found, so this week I chugged along and ended up discovering something amazing.

The gospel can be found in Leviticus! And it's not by a major or minor prophet predicting Jesus' coming, or telling others about it, it's just one of those amazing parallels that shows us just how long ago God planned to save us from ourselves.

There was the old covenant, but God knew there would be a new covenant. He knew He would send His son to die for our sins. He knew that no amount of animal sacrifices could atone for the evil we do, only the sacrifice of Jesus could truly carry our sins away.

In Moses' time, part of the day included bringing two male goats before God as a sin offering.

"And Aaron shall present the goat on which the lot fell for the Lord and use it as a sin offering, but the goat on which the lot fell for Azalel shall be presented alive before the Lord to make atonement over it, that it may be sent away into the wilderness to Azalel." Leviticus 16:9-10

Like our day of atonement, Jesus was presented to God as a sin offering, he was sacrificed so we could be presented alive before the Lord to make atonement over, that our sins (past, present, and future) would be sent away into the wilderness.

"And Aaron shall lay both his hands on the head of the live goat and confess over it all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins. And he shall put them on the head of the goat and send it away into the wilderness by the hand of a man who is in readiness. The goat shall bear all their iniquities on itself to a remote area and he shall let the goat go free in the wilderness." Leviticus 16:27

The difference of course is that in Moses' time, the day of atonement was an annual gig. Our sins could never fully be paid for. Jesus' sacrifice sends our sins into the wilderness forever. No other sacrifice is needed.

God laid his hands over his Son and over it confessed all of our iniquities, all our transgressions, all our sins, and he put them on the head of His Son. Jesus bore our iniquities and was killed on the cross as a sacrifice for us, to atone for our sins and send them free into the wilderness. He died to make us free (Romans 6:7, 8:2). Free from sin, free from ourselves, free to dance and free to run.

Ironically, us being free came at an enormous cost. What amazing grace.

It's a Small World After All

For weeks I've been studying "the church." I've wanted to know about church doctrine, the importance of church, and what makes a church, well... a church. I even started reading the book "Stop Dating the Church," which has already began to change the way I look at attendance and membership. It's gotten me incredibly excited about going to church each week. But, sometimes there are obstacles.

Saturday night a group of friends and I drove down to Spring Hill, Florida for spring break. We drove through the night, and were set to arrive around 10 in the morning on Sunday. I tried to convince the rest of the crew to stop and go to church along the way, but my weary travelling friends did not seem as interested. I researched and found a church in Spring Hill that started at 10:30 and one at 10:50. Around 10:45am we were just pulling into Spring Hill and I knew church wasn't going to work out.

I'm not going to lie, I was a combination of disappointed and angry. I struggled to maintain patience the final 15 minutes of our trip.

Then something happened, as we pulled into the driveway of our vacation home, I looked to the left and saw a sign across the street, "Faith Evangelical Free Church." Their was going to be a service at 6pm. I was beyond excited!

But, a little nervous, too. I had no idea what to expect. Would it be a big church? A little church? Would I fit in? Would it be good teaching? Would I hear a false gospel? What if I wanted to leave halfway through?

Still, I felt called to go. I can't really explain it, I just knew I needed to be there.

I walked in and was shocked to find just about twenty other people present in the tiny church. It looked much bigger from the road.

The twenty-something odd people were all at least sixty years old or older. I stood out like a sore thumb.

Within a minute of arriving, the pastor came over to me to ask my name and welcome me to the church. It was odd, he was probably mid thirties, and (I mean this in the most respectful, appropriate way possible), he was very good looking for his age. I couldn't understand what it must have been like for him to preach here. Did he enjoy teaching here? Was he sad the congregation was so small?

His wife came in shortly after, she was a beautiful woman as well. I wonder how she handled seeing her husband up there on the pulpit. Was she still proud of him?

After a few wonderfully sung hymns, Pastor Slayden (great name!) was up to bat and I had no idea what was coming.

For 50 minutes he gave one of the most amazing sermons ever!! It was an exegetical study on Deuteronomy, and it was incredible. I learned so much, I was convicted, and I was challenged. I'm not going to lie, I did not expect that. Pastor Slayden was easily one of the most intelligent preachers I've ever heard, and he was downright joyful. Before long I realized the rest of the congregation was equally on their game. At one point, he asked the group a theological question that even I didn't know the answer to. Everyone else did. It was incredible.

After the service Kaitlin (Slayden's wife) came over to introduce herself to me and talk about what I was doing there. I shared why I was in Florida, what led me to their church, and how the group I'm with is involved with Campus Crusade for Christ back at Cru. Turns out, Kaitlin and Slayden met at Campus Crusade when they were in college!

Furthermore, Slayden went to Dallas Theological Seminary, the same six years I was in Texas, and we lived in the same town. Small world, right? The conversation continued with me practically drilling the two on Dallas Theological Seminary, as I've been debating going to seminary for Biblical counseling after I get my counseling license. Turns out, another member of their congregation actually started the Biblical counseling program there! We exchanged contact information so we can talk more about it and she can pass my name along.

I had no idea what to expect going into church Sunday morning. I just knew God wanted me there. I thought it would be for them. I thought it might be a cool witness for them to see someone making church a priority over Spring Break. That's what I thought would happen when I felt called to go there.

But, my God is an amazing God, and instead of using me to reach the church, He used the church to reach me. Amazing!

(Un)Righteous

A couple of days ago I was reading in Exodus 34, and I was struck by the very first verse I read.

"The Lord said to Moses, 'Cut for yourself two tablets of stone like the first, and I will write on the tables the words that were on the first tablets, which you broke.'" (emphasis added)

I was immediately angry for Moses. Which he broke? Seriously, yeah he threw them down, but it was because Aaron and the people of Israel made a golden calf to worship!! God delivered them from bondage in Egypt. He literally parted a sea for them, and still they are so impatient that in the time Moses is up on the mountain speaking to the Lord, they turn to idol worship. I would've thrown down the tablets, too! But that's not MY fault, it's the people's fault. Their sin was bigger than mine.

But all sin is equal in the eyes of God.

James 2:10 says, "For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it."

In the gospel of Matthew Jesus is recorded saying, "'Or how can you say to your brother 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when there is the log in your own eye?'"

Earlier in Exodus Moses' sin is exposed, "As soon as he came near the camp and saw the calf and the dancing, Moses' anger burned hot, and he threw the tablets out of his hands and broke them at the foot of the mountain." Exodus 32:19

I'm not arguing that Moses was unjust in his anger. It's difficult to see anyone sin against the Lord, but even more so when they're people you love or people you lead. Sometimes these emotions are founded in righteous anger and a Godly sorrow, sometimes their founded in pride. But even righteous anger can be acted on in a sinful way.

I don't condone idol worship at all, but Moses was far from blame himself. He sinned so greatly in his anger that he literally threw the work of God in the dirt (Exodus 32:15), the writing was the writing of God (32:16), written in stone with the finger of God (31:18)... and he burned so hot that he broke the tablets that God himself just wrote on.

I can't even fathom an equivalent, the closest I can imagine is being angry at my roommates for sinning and rather than walking away and praying, or taking my anger to God, or rebuking them later when I was of the right mind, it would be like me ripping my Bible in two, right in front of them. As if to say, "The word of God? Psh. My anger and my feelings are more important than that."

But so often when I sin out of righteous anger I choose to forget the first part. It's righteous anger, not sin. I did it for you, God! They're worse than me. I did this for you!

And so when I receive my just punishment for my sin I want to throw a fit. I say I'm being persecuted for righteousness sake. But I'm not, I'm being punished and disciplined for my own sin. And more importantly, for my own good.

Praise God that I have a Savior whose sacrifice covered everyone's sins once and for all. Praise God that He gave us His one and only Son and saw him brutally hung on a cross like a criminal as atonement for all of our sins. Past, present, and future.

Romans 5:18-19 says, ^"Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men. For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous."

I am so thankful that despite my stubborn, angry, sinful nature, the Lord always uses His word to teach me and prune me and grow me. And I'm so thankful that the Lord still loves me even when I sin against him by judging his children (my fellow brothers and sisters) and thinking I'm better than them. And I'm thankful that when I'm too blind to see my own sin, or too stubborn and embarrassed to own up to it, that he bluntly reminds me, "You broke my tablets."

God doesn't sugarcoat this or try to appease Moses when he returns. He's not worried about Moses' feelings, he's worried about Moses' godliness. He doesn't say, "...the first tablets which you broke, because of this horrible Israelites." The full weight of the responsibility is put on Moses.

The full weight of responsibility for my actions is on me. Sometimes I break God's tablets. Sometimes I throw His written word into the dirt. Praise God that while my sin is my responsibility, Jesus already took care of it, and teaches me how to do the same everyday.

Here in Your Arms

I struggle blogging sometimes. I want to blog every day. The list of things I want to write about but don't have time to grows and grows. I think my list is up to 12 blog ideas.

Usually when I say I don't have time to blog, it's because of pride. I like my writing to be perfect. Some people struggle writing because they want to shock and awe their readers with their profound insight and wisdom. I want to win people over with my beautiful rhetoric. Which sometimes takes forever to compose.

I should be trying to win people over for the the Lord and his glory, not my own.

So today I'll keep it short.

Physical touch is my love language. Which is ironic, because I hate being touched by most people. It takes a long time for someone to gain my trust enough for me to allow myself to be physically affectionate with them. And this isn't just relationally. I struggle to even hug my roommates.

But, once someone breaks that barrier, I break the elementary rule, "keep your hands to yourself."

In my facebook profile, under the "about me" section I write about a few of my favorite things. One of them says, "strong arms, and being enveloped in them." There is perhaps no place I feel safer in the world than in someone else's arms. I'm not sure why either, I just know that I could sit in silence with someone holding me for hours and be perfectly happy.

But recently, I have been caught in the arms of another lover.

Over break, a dear friend challenged me, "The Bible says to pray without ceasing. What if we actually took that seriously?" Since then I have been praying more than I even have in my entire life. I'm not perfect, but most of the time I'm not doing homework or with people I'm in prayer. Talking to my daddy. I pray when I walk, when I drive, when I run, when I'm in the shower, when I'm cooking.

And I know, that when I'm not praying, I want to be. When I'm not praying the world seems a million times more scary. And when I'm not praying, I feel more vulnerable.

But I feel so safe when I'm wrapped tightly in the arms of prayer. Prayer makes me feel brave. Which is something I don't feel very often.

God is a lot of places, but apparently he missed that day in preschool, because God has never kept his arms to himself... and I'm so thankful for that.

I love you daddy.

Church, Rap Music, and Body Parts

I've been studying "the church" a lot lately. Trying to figure out what makes a church a church, how para churches are different, why going to church is important, etc. I'm still gathering my thoughts and convictions. What I know right now is that churches are just buildings. Like people, there are countless shapes, sizes, colors, and talents of churches spread across the country. But too often churches have problems with each other.

They disagree on theology, worship, and doctrine. They fight, they put down, instead of building up, and working together for God's kingdom.

Paul says it best, we're many parts, we're all one body. And he says it over and over again, to different churches (Romans 12:4, 1 Cor 12:12, Ephesians 4:16). I can't help but think that while he was speaking to single churches about their own divisions, it is also the case with the church as a whole.

Lord, help us be the church.

Buy this song by Lecrae on iTunes and you’ll be helping to support Churches Helping Churches. A sweet organization started by studs James MacDonald and Mark Driscoll along with DesiringGod ministries.

We can’t get into Haiti yet to do the kind of hands on relief work I want to do, but for now, I’ll gladly support the rebuilding of the church in any way I can.

Yes, the church, not my church, or their church. THE church. There's just one.

My First Love

In seventh grade I had my first valentine.

Almost.

Luke and I were in the same P.E. class. And one day, during basketball, his best friend came up to me and told me Luke liked me. So, for the next month, Luke and I would walk to class together, in silence. It’s the way junior high love works. That, and this is what I do with boys I like. I become mute. I’m a little ashamed to admit that ten years later this still reigns true. Cute boys make me awkward.

But I digress. Valentine’s Day was just around the corner and I excitedly ran to Hallmark one afternoon to pick up my first real Valentine’s card. I was ecstatic!

The card read:

Outside:
“Roses are red.
Beagles have spots.
Hope that you know…”

Inside:
“… I love you lots.
Happy Valentine’s Day”

It was a Peanuts card. Snoopy was on the front, sitting on top of his doghouse with a typewriter, presumably typing this cute poem.

Sadly, while some find my sweet silence endearing, Luke apparently did not find it so adorable. On February 11th he passed me a note in the hall, right before math, which said, “I don’t like you anymore. We never talk. And we have nothing in common.” Its okay, you can laugh. I did writing it. :)

Ever the unusual girl, I found solace in the fact that I had not yet written anything on the card I had bought (I don’t like to waste). I was immediately excited at the prospect of re-gifting it to my valentine the next year.

But 8th grade came and went without a Valentine, as did 9th grade, and then 10th, and then all of high school. I held onto the card, now knowing it would be saved for someone special indeed. My first college boyfriend, I thought, he would get my now six-year-old card.

College began, and college ended. Grad school started. And still no valentine. My card anxiously waiting to be given away. The card is now eleven-years-old, and in surprisingly good condition. The same can be said of my heart.

You see, this story is not nearly as depressing as it sounds. It’s not about a little girl desperate for a love she has not yet found. It’s a story about a girl with a protective God who is jealous for her. It’s the story about a loving Father who has always looked out for his daughter. Blessing her with patience, so that she will not give away her card, or heart, to anyone that will guard it less carefully than He.

Sometimes I think about my future husband. I wonder if he prays to God, desperate to meet me. In a sense, asking my Father permission to marry me. And I wonder how he takes my daddy’s response. “No, you can’t. Not yet.” I wonder what he does in those moments of inner discouragement. I pray he takes it to the Lord in humbled confidence, never doubting that the Lord will say yes when we’re both ready.

I’m grateful to have such a jealous God. I’m blessed that throughout the years, throughout eleven Valentine’s Days, he has kept my heart pure, shielding me from the pain of countless broken relationships and fleeting love. I wonder sometimes if I will only ever have one Valentine. It would be sort of sweet. Knowing I had only ever celebrated my love with one man. But, that is as far as I will let my mind wonder into the future tonight.

So, this Valentine’s, I spent the day with my first love. Reading about his unchangeable, faithful, loyal love for me. His STEADFAST love.

After church this Valentine’s Day I curled up in my bed with the good book and began searching out truth about how much my God loves me. What I found was not just his love. I found that time and time again the word love wasn’t enough. Steadfast was the adjective so often attached. The scriptures quote it over and over, “his steadfast love.”

Steadfast: constant, unwavering, fixed.

You can find it in:
Exodus 34:6
Deuteronomy 5:10
2 Chronicles 5:13
Psalm 13:5
Psalm 26:3
Psalm 36:5
Psalm 51:1
Psalm 86:13
Psalm 100:5
Psalm 145:8
Lamentations 3:22
Daniel 9:4

And that was without going online and searching “steadfast love” on Bible.com.

What I loved the most as the beauty of this word was revealed to be was that I found it in places I’d been reading over and over. I’d always missed it. Psalm 13 and Lamentations 3 have been the two chapters of my life over the last few months, and not so coincidentally, God speaks of his steadfast love for me in both chapters. What a romantic God I have. Pursuing me daily. As I should pursue him.

I see so many Christians depressed and lonely on Valentine’s Day. Pitying themselves for not having a special someone to share the day with. But like I sometimes do, these men and women have forgotten their first love (Revelation 2:4). Single, engaged, married, widowed. We already have the greatest love that any man has ever known!

Joshua Harris says it best, "The world takes us to a silver screen on which flickering images of passion and romance play, and as we watch, the world says 'This is love.' God takes us to the foot of the tree on which a naked and bloodied man hangs and says 'THIS is LOVE!’”

Jesus endured incomprehensible pain and death so his Father’s love for us would remain steadfast. So that no matter our sin, it is paid for, and God can continue to love us with an unchanging, fixed, constant love that we do not deserve.

To me Valentine’s Day is about so much more than worldly love. And I hope I never forget that. I hope throughout the years (when I do have a Valentine) that I will not make the holiday about our love for each other. I pray it will always be about our Father’s love for us which makes our love for each other possible.

You see, this is not a story about a girl without love. It’s a story for all those who have forgotten that they are never without love.

So, next Valentine’s (since this blog is a little late)… if you’re feeling down without a special someone to share the day with. Do the wonderfully cheesy thing I did. Make yourself a card. On the front, “My Daughter” or “My Son”

And on the inside, write this:

“You may forget your first love from time to time, but rest assured, your first love will never forget you. –God”

Happy (Belated) Valentine’s Day everyone! I love you all.

------

PS. My beloved brothers, take notes. After 40 years, John Piper is still pursuing his wife. I pray that 40 years from now, you all will be, too. :)

http://www.desiringgod.org/Blog/2247_a_valentine_for_my_wife_in_pictures_and_rhyme/