Breakthrough

I know the standard Sunday school response to someone's problem or dilemma is:  Pray about it.  It's annoying, but true.  Most of the time, that answers a whole slew of problems.  I know I've used that response, myself.

But, what do you do when you can't pray?

If you want to be really annoying, you can say, "Pray about it!"  To which, if you struggled as much as I have in the past (and still do now), then you would probably want to punch the advice giver in the face.

Sometimes, people mistake me for a prayer warrior because I like to go away for a while and pray.  This is not true though.  The only reason I spend so much time in prayer is because the first 40 minutes - hour of any given prayer session is spent meandering through my thoughts, trying to think of what to pray for, doing my best not to fall asleep, or complaining about how hard it is.  Sometimes I would read my Bible for inspiration, but that's like playing Russian Roulette - depends on what verse you land your finger on.

After several prayer sessions like this, I find myself pretty demotivated.  Then, I start making excuses not to pray, or I give up a lot more easily.  Instead of struggling for 30 minutes, I struggle for ten and then call it quits.  "What's the point?  I'm not going to get anywhere.  Why bother?"  But then, I feel guilty and try again later or another day. This time I struggle for 15 minutes.  Nothing.  "See?  I knew it!  Why do I keep doing this to myself?"

The danger to this "try and try again" approach is that it often quickly spirals into a negative reinforcing self fulfilling prophecy.  You don't want to pray because you don't think anything is going to happen.  Nothing happens because you don't pray.  Once you fall into this vicious circumlocutious trap, it is very difficult to get out.   If you fall into this trap, as I sometimes have, there are a few things you can do to claw your way out:

1.  Repent of this negative thinking.  God didn't call us to pray so that he could watch us squirm.  He says, "Ask and you will receive, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened for you."  He delights to answer our prayers.
2. Get others to pray for you and with you.  There is a spiritual energy that comes from corporate prayer, it's really hard to be so skeptical of God answering your prayers when you are surrounded by people who are legit crying out and expecting him to answer.
3.  Fast.  You are probably angry and frustrated at God, at church, at your own spiritual life.  This is all flesh.  The only way to kill the flesh is to fast.  You need to make it weak so that it doesn't have the energy to fuss at you.  Then you can remind it that YOU are in charge.
4.  Pray through the Psalms.  Read through them, and the psalms that resonate with you, read out loud as a prayer to the Lord.
5.  Get fed.  Listen to sermons, teachings, audio bibles, anything godly.  Go to bible studies or seminars or extra services.  Bombard yourself with truth so that the lie that God will not meet you or answer you will have no power.
6.  Pray for someone else.  Most of the time we are frustrated because we feel like we are not getting the answer to OUR prayers for ourselves.  We want the answer too much and so we get impatient.  When we pray for others, we are less biased and therefore can pray freely.
7.  Worship.  Listen to worship music.  Play it.  Dance to it.  Just praise God.  If you can't even do this, then go to a corporate worship service and participate.

I have tried all these with varying degrees of success.  But #7 is the one that has finally given me breakthrough.  If you can't pray, just worship.  It's something that I was reminded of today.  During prayer time, just play worship music and worship for as long as you want, and usually you will want to pray sometime in the middle of worshiping.  I am grateful for our church that we are anointed in this area.  Our worship always makes me want to pray.  I guess I took it for granted, and that's why it had always been relatively easy for me to pray when I was there.

I think worship is so powerful because it's hard to think about myself or what I'm asking for when I'm praising God for how great he is.  And as I sing the words, I know they are true.  God is great.  And after singing several of these songs, I start believing it's true.  And it's hard to be upset with God when you're telling him how awesome he is.  And then suddenly, interspersed between the songs, I say short little prayers.  And I know he hears them.  I don't need to give God long explanations of what I need.  He already knows.  And sometimes, I don't end up praying at all.  I just keep worshiping, and that becomes my prayer.

That's breakthrough.

DEPENDENT ON GOD’S PRESENCE

JULY 20^th

Those who wait on the Lord . . . shall walk and not faint.”

Isaiah 40:31

There is no thrill for us in walking, yet it is the test for all of our steady and enduring qualities. To “walk and not faint” is the highest stretch possible as a measure of strength. The word walk is used in the Bible to express the character of a person—“. . . John . . . looking at Jesus as He walked . . . said, ‘Behold the Lamb of God!’” (John 1:35–36). There is nothing abstract or obscure in the Bible; everything is vivid and real. God does not say, “Be spiritual,” but He says,“Walk before Me . . .” (Genesis 17:1). When we are in an unhealthy condition either physically or emotionally, we always look for thrills in life. In our physical life this leads to our efforts to counterfeit the work of the Holy Spirit; in our emotional life it leads to obsessions and to the destruction of our morality; and in our spiritual life, if we insist on pursuing only thrills, on mounting up “with wings like eagles” (40:31), it will result in the destruction of our spirituality. Having the reality of God’s presence is not dependent on our being in a particular circumstance or place, but is only dependent on our determination to keep the Lord before us continually. Our problems arise when we refuse to place our trust in the reality of His presence. The experience the psalmist speaks of—“We will not fear, even though . . .” (Psalm 46:2)—will be ours once we are grounded on the truth of the reality of God’s presence, not just a simple awareness of it, but an understanding of the reality of it. Then we will exclaim, “He has been here all the time!” At critical moments in our lives it is necessary to ask God for guidance, but it should be unnecessary to be constantly saying, “Oh, Lord, direct me in this, and in that.” Of course He will, and in fact, He is doing it already! If our everyday decisions are not according to His will, He will press through them, bringing restraint to our spirit. Then we must be quiet and wait for the direction of His presence.

                                     -Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

You know for a guy who’s been dead for almost a hundred years, Chambers sure has a way of slicing you right open with his words.  Can this daily devotional be any more prophetic?  I don’t read him daily, but I feel that way every time I open up the book to whatever the date happens to be that day.  Today’s text was particularly pertinent to me because (if I’m allowed to be real for a moment) I am just so sick and tired of being dryyyyyyy.  I am so tired of the desert.  It’s been nothing but desert for a while now with the occasional oasis and sometimes even a mirage or two. 

But I need to keep walking.  Just because I don’t “feel” like I am on wings like eagles, doesn’t mean I can’t keep it moving.   I can still move forward by walking and not fainting.  But I’ll be honest, I spent a long time stuck in the middle of the desert wondering where my eagle went – thinking maybe I did something wrong, perhaps I offended it, or I got too heavy, or it was mad at me, or even playing a joke on me.  I waited and waited for the eagle to come back, to pick me up and take me to my final destination.  And then after a long time, a lot of crying, not too few temper tantrums, and even more bemoaning – I realized that I would be stuck in the desert forever if I didn’t at least move. 

This is the stuff real faith is made of.  It’s a point that Chambers revisits often.  We naturally look to and, inadvertently,  live for those spiritual highs we get from retreats and conferences and short term trips.  It’s so easy to fall into the trap of needing to “feel” God’s presence in order to justify ministry, trials, or long suffering.  But I think sometimes he withdraws himself to refine us, so we are not like children who always need to be coddled into doing what we’re supposed to. 

We think our whole walk with God is supposed to be a mountaintop experience.  But, our walk with God is just that – it’s a walk.  We don’t always know where the destination is, but God leads the way even though he’s not holding our hand the entire time. 

I guess that is what maturity means.

The Word

The Word is hard again, not hard as in difficult, but hard like wood or stone.  Instead of encountering flesh, I am encountering a solid impenetrable surface.  Isn't it interesting how we read, "The Word was made flesh," but we do not take the time to consider the implications of its meaning?  That means when I read the Bible, I should not be encountering mere words, but living, breathing FLESH.  I should be encountering a person, a human being, not just rows of letters strung together into a sequence that is supposed to convey meaning.  I UNDERSTAND meaning.  I have reading comprehension skills.  But I don't live for words, and I can't live for just meaning in its definitive sense.  I need to live for a PERSON, specifically Jesus, and more specifically not just for Him but with Him as well. 

I know I'm supposed to be holy and not have these kinds of problems, but I DO.  And this is a problem for me because the Word is really important to me.  I LOVE the Word.  There was a time when I couldn't get enough of it - where I would skip my readings for lecture and read 1 Corinthians and then 2 Corinthians and then re-read them because I didn't quite get the meaning.  It was like food to me, and I LOVE food.  Human beings can't live without food, but I need to have GOOD food - food that is delicious and comforting and satisfying.  Nobody wants to eat stale bread to stay alive.

Why am I writing all this?  Well, I've been having a hard time.  And God bless those of you who have been listening to me tell you of my woes.  But I want you to know that I'm fighting.  I haven't given up.  Life has not been very kind to me, but God has.  I don't say it enough, but He is kind to me.  And He listens to my woes too.  That's why I keep trying even when it feels futile.  I have tried everything to bring the word back to life for me.  I tried to read books that were relevant for me - Exodus (wandering in the desert).  I tried to gain wisdom through Proverbs.  I tried reminding myself of who Jesus is through the Gospels.  And even in my darkest moments, I read Lamentations and tried to identify with Jeremiah.  I even painted pictures for different verses.  Right now, I'm trying to memorize Psalm 23 in Russian.  Basically, I'm desperate and I'm trying everything and anything. 

I feel like a drowning man grasping for a breath of air.  But I will not give up.  I think that's the important thing.  There is something about consistency and constancy that outweighs quality at this point.  The quality will come, but it won't if I just give up until I feel inspired.  The truth is inspiration may not come for a long while. It's the devil's snare.  It is so easy to fall into that trap of "keepin' it real" and only doing things when I feel like it or that somehow it seems inauthentic to do something when I don't feel like it, but that's not legalism, it's just laziness.

I wish I had a more systematic way of developing this discipline, especially when I'm lacking enthusiasm.  But I figure the first thing I should do is keep myself accountable.  So, for the next month (at least), I will keep track of my progress on my blog.  Somehow knowing that others will find out about my progress makes me feel like I should try a little harder - kinda like when you're running a marathon at a snail's pace because all that's important at the moment is that you finish.  But when you see your friends watching you chug along - you feel like you should at least make the effort to lengthen your stride and look like you're not in that much pain (at least for the hundred yards where they'll be watching you).

The last consistent thing I did was painting - I would paint pictures for verses I meditated on.   It was pretty therapeutic.  But I'm having painter's block, so I'm enabling comments because I need suggestions.  Please feel free to make them.  I will try them. 

Promise.

Art Therapy

When I was in HK, I met with a woman who invited me to a prophetic art class she taught. I asked her what it was, and she basically said, "Come and see." I always loved doing any kind of art or craft, so I went. We spent the first 30 minutes or so in prayer and worship, asking God to speak to us or give us a word or image. We were listening to worship music, and the song that stuck out most to me had the refrain, "Open the floodgates."

Then she directed us to our medium of expression. Today was finger paint. It felt a little odd, almost childish, but she gave us our canvas and bottles of paint and told us to just paint our prayer onto the canvas, so I thought for a minute and immediately grabbed a bottle of gold paint and started smearing it across the canvas. These would be my floodgates. Then, I grabbed the blue paint and started making a waterfall with my fingers - a BIG waterfall that took up the entire canvas.

After 15 minutes of just painting with my hands, I started to feel more peace. I had just come off a whirlwind of emotions and I hadn't slept or eaten in several days. Needless to say, I was so shaken, it was hard for me to pray, and I honestly didn't know how I felt about God or anything else. I just felt really lost - like I was drowning in a sea of my emotions. But as I mixed colors with my fingers and painted waves with my nails, I felt like I was finally doing something tangible with all the intangible stuff that was going on inside of me. I didn't feel as helpless anymore. It was like I was sorting out everything on the canvas.

At the end of the class, this was my result:

It's interesting what you can do with just your fingers. I had no idea what my picture would end up looking like, but I just kept pouring paint on. I was more interested in the textures. I would try something and if I liked the effect, I would run with it, and if I didn't I would just smear some more paint over it and cover the mistake.

Perhaps life is like that sometimes. Sometimes, I leave mistakes in - nobody knows it wasn't supposed to be there, but it adds a bit of character to the painting - makes it look less professional and more like a smattering of thoughts and emotions trying to work itself out on the canvas.

Real art. Art that was meant to heal. The instructor told us to keep the painting and hang it up - it would continue to minister to us long after.

After we finished, we were supposed to share our painting with others. Something unusual we did (at least for me) was rotate our pictures 90 degrees several times to determine if we could see something different in the picture. When I turned my picture upside down (180 degrees), I noticed that my waterfall looked like a giant blue tree:

It's interesting that this tree was hidden in the picture like that. Ever since Linda mentioned doing something about trees for Breakthrough in a brainstorm session, I have been thinking about trees a lot. Usually when I doodle or draw without thinking, I almost always immediately start forming trees. I always think of the Tree of Life mentioned in Genesis. The tree that gives eternal life. And then I think of Jesus, who was crucified on a tree. The correlation is there. Not by accident.

And the tree invokes other verses - like the one in Psalm 1:1-3

¹ Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
² but whose delight is in the law of the LORD,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
³ That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—

whatever they do prospers.

or Jeremiah 17:7-8

⁷ “But blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD,
whose confidence is in him.
⁸ They will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit.”

Trees planted by water. I guess after feeling so spiritually dry, even my subconscious is pleading to God for water.

Let it rain.

Pain

All my life, I've basically had two reactions to pain: anger and denial. I liked feeling angry because it made me do something productive with my pain. It made me work harder, do better, strive more. In instances where I could not do that, I, like my forefathers before me, denied the pain. I would ignore its existence, make myself invulnerable to its effects, and move on.

This is not to say that I did not always feel my pain, but I think it would be naive to say we should embrace our pain. When my grandma died, pain ravaged me. It was debilitating. I honestly thought it would just consume me whole. But we cannot let pain take over. When confronted with pain, we must accept it and then cut through it. The shortest distance from beginning to end is a straight line.

I'm reading this book, A Grace Disguised. It's one man's very authentic account of the pain and loss he suffered after his mother, wife, and daughter were all killed by one drunk driver. I was afraid it would be too heavy a read for me, but it was remarkably honest and poignant. There was one particular passage that made me feel that I could learn a lot. In the initial aftermath of the tragedy, he had a dream that he was running west after the setting sun in order to remain in its light, but when he tired and stopped the darkness closed in on him:

I wanted to keep running after the sun though I knew that it was futile, for it had already proven itself faster than I was. So I lost all hope, collapsed to the ground and fell into despair. I thought at that moment that I would live in darkness forever. I felt absolute terror in my soul ... Later my sister, Diane, told me that the quickest way for anyone to reach the sun and the light of day is not to run west, chasing after the setting sun, but to head east, plunging into the darkness until one comes to the sunrise.

I have been fortunate enough in my life that most of my pain had not been catastrophic. But there had been little pains, and big pains, and some pains that I chose to bury. But the problem with burying feelings is that you bury them alive, and they manage to resurface.

I used to think that it was better not to let pain "get to me" that somehow being unflinching and steely would make me stronger. It doesn't. It makes one harder. Jesus had a heart of flesh not stone. I don't think I could have accepted him if he was impervious to pain. I would not be able to relate to him. I would not believe that he would be able to understand me, and therefore minister to me. It's interesting how people who go through painful experiences tend to gravitate towards others who have also gone through pain. The last person they will seek comfort from is the one who has never experienced it.

Pain is part of human existence, but it's not the whole of it. In this way, Jesus demonstrated his humanity. Suffering made Jesus more human though he was divine. Yet, He triumphed over the pain, suffering and shame and somehow turned it into something glorious.

Only God can do that.

Excess Baggage: Fees to be assessed

I am unpacking for the 10th time... in 12 months. I used to romanticize this idea of the free spirited Bohemian lifestyle, but all this nomadic traveling is starting to wear on me. I go from place to place for a few months at a time, never feeling settled, or once feeling settled, I am immediately uprooted. Packing has become a balancing act of randomly throwing my junk into my luggage as quickly as possible in no particular order and then weighing it because if I go over the weight restrictions, I'm assessed a slew of fees. You would think that after packing up my crap and moving so many times, I would be better at this. I'm not.

This decision to move again came suddenly, or rather, I finally gave in after dreading the idea of migrating once again. Hence I had only a few days to tie up loose ends and only a day or two to pack up everything. There was so much stuff and so little time, that I didn't even sort anything out. I just threw everything into piles. Mia used to yell at me because this was my method of last resort. Whenever I was pressed for time, I would just start throwing everything into boxes and labeling them, "Box of Crap" and sort it out later. This would be very ineffective when I had to repack for my next move. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever unpack and stay unpacked, if I will ever feel settled.

As I was dragging my two suitcases, carry-on, and purse (I had to split it up that way or I'd go over the weight limit), I thought to myself, "Maybe God is teaching me to travel light, but I'm not really learning this lesson. Is this why I keep repeating it?" In actuality, I probably only use half the things I bring, but I have a lot of "just in case" items. I'm also Chinese so I am predisposed to hoard and be a pack rat. Add excessive sentimental attachment to things, and you have a recipe for EXCESS BAGGAGE.

I keep things that have fond memories attached to them: the wrapping paper from birthday presents, books, notes, pictures, souvenirs, trinkets really. I also bring a lot of half-used items that I don't want to waste: a half bottle of lotion, shampoo or soap, the mixed nuts I never finished - what if I need them later? I don't want to buy them again. But the reality is, I just don't like to throw things away. They give me a sense of comfort and security.

The problem with excess baggage is that it costs something.

Not just when you fly, but in life. It makes moving around difficult. And following Jesus requires a lot of moving around. At least for me. I hold onto a lot of things that make me feel more secure - my safety nets. But sometimes they slow me down. They become more burdensome to carry. They restrict my movement. They make running the race a lot harder.

It's time to shed some weight.

Stories

I like stories. I like reading them. I like hearing them. I like telling them. Stories paint pictures more vivid than any cold hard description. They illustrate points better than any theoretical example. They are easier to identify with and relate to than any logical principle. I think this is why Jesus often taught in parables - stories. And then he demonstrated what he taught instead of explaining it.

I think that is why I first liked Jesus. He was a person, yet he was more than a person. He was God but somehow I was able to relate to him. He was a God I could grasp even if I could not fully understand, at a time when I only found religions that I could understand, but never fully grasp.

Jesus was real to me because he had character, personality, purpose, and even struggles. He was Emmanuel - God with us. God in flesh, and therefore tangible. In a sense, it was in his stories that I could touch him and hold onto him.

I liked him. But, I didn't know if he would like me. I desperately wanted him to, but I was just so messed up. I had so much baggage, that if hell was a real place, then I was definitely going to go there. And I would deserve it. It didn't matter how many people told me that Jesus loved sinners. It wouldn't and shouldn't save me from hell. No amount of theology, apologetics, or even constant repetition would make me believe that.

But then there was a story. Actually, there were two. And these two stories somehow gave me a hope to hold onto.

The first story was one that Jesus told:

¹⁰ “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. ¹¹ The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. ¹² I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

¹³ “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

¹⁴ “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 18:10-14)

To this day, I still cry whenever I read verse 13, because I know what it was like to feel too ashamed to come before God, much less ask for anything. But it was verse 14 that gave me hope. If only I will come to him, and confess myself, maybe I will be pardoned.

The second story was of what Jesus did with the story he told:

36 One of the Pharisees asked him to eat with him, and he went into the Pharisee's house and took his place at the table. 37 And behold, a woman of the city, who was a sinner, when she learned that he was reclining at table in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster flask of ointment, 38 and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head and kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment. 39 Now when the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner.” 40 And Jesus answering said to him, “Simon, I have something to say to you.” And he answered, “Say it, Teacher.”

41 “A certain moneylender had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42 When they could not pay, he cancelled the debt of both. Now which of them will love him more?” 43 Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, for whom he cancelled the larger debt.” And he said to him, “You have judged rightly.” 44 Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45 You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. 46 You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. 47 Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” 48 And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.” 49 Then those who were at table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this, who even forgives sins?” 50 And he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”

Luke 7:36-50

This is a story within a story, within a story. Here is the story of a woman who led a sinful life and knows it and therefore does not ask to be forgiven it. Yet, she knew that this Jesus was deserving of all her love and devotion, and she was willing to show it. Then you have this Pharisee who is not only judging the woman, but also Jesus for associating with her. And Jesus addresses both of them by telling a story and asking a question: Which debtor will love him more?

Then, Jesus makes a series of statements that logically follow each other until he gets to verse 47: Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven—for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.”

If we follow the story, the logical conclusion that one would draw is that Jesus must first pronounce forgiveness on this woman, then the love that flows from gratitude will follow in kind. But that's not what happens. This woman didn't ask for forgiveness. She probably didn't think she could get it. Just like those debtors could not repay their debt. But the creditor had mercy and cancelled their debt.

She loved him first.

Now I know all you Pharisees out there will say, but the Bible says, "We love him because he first loved us." blah blah blah. Yes, I know this. What I'm saying is that she loved him even before she knew she was forgiven. That was enough.

You know what I like about Jesus in this story? He identified her love and He forgave her. He did not go into a litany of things she had to change about herself to be "right" with him. He didn't start "holding her accountable" for x, y, or z. He didn't tell her how she should go about living her life. He didn't even say, "Sin no more" as he did with others he healed or forgave.

Why?

I think Jesus knew that there was no need to say any of those things. Forgiveness was enough. A sinner who is that aware of her sins, but unaware of any way to absolve them - she is the one who will forever be changed by forgiveness.

I think that is why I like this story so much. Jesus knows that He is enough for her.