Come and Be -- Another Perspective

There she stood, frustrated. Waving her arms and begging for help. She was overwhelmed and exhausted. He could see it in the lines in her face and the bags under her eyes. Careworn. 

Oh how she had worked. Years of work had gone unseen and unappreciated. His eyes softened  as he perused her. She was blinded by her busyness, convinced that what she needed was help and recognition. He recognized her efforts, nevertheless he knew recognition was not what she needed. He could laud her and praise her and she would feel better momentarily. But the praise would only compel her to work harder. No, she didn't need accolades; she needed rest. He pondered the words he would say, knowing that at first she would hate to hear them. He pictured her initial reaction and ached inside. But how could he give her what she wanted, when that meant withholding the very truth that would set her free?

He glanced at her sister who sat rigid at his feet as accusations stacked up against her. His compassion stirred for both of them. Hurt and weariness motivated the torrent. He knew his friend longed to sit at his feet as well, but wouldn't allow herself to stop when she'd convinced herself she had to work.

Yes, what she desperately needed was rest.

Inwardly, he grimaced before he spoke. His voice was tender, though he knew she would perceive it as harsh. "Martha, Martha, you are weary and upset over many things. But few things are needed--indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better and it will not be taken away from her."

He watched her face fall as his words sank in. He wanted to pull her next to him and comfort her, but he waited. Eyes blurred by tears, she stumbled out of the room. He watched her go--willing himself to wait--before sitting down to resume his teaching. And he waited. The seconds stretched to minutes which stretched to over an hour. He longed for her to come. To forget everything that made her frantic and to experience the moment. It wasn't the same without her. But she had a choice and he couldn't make it for her.

If only she would come and be.

And you know what?

She did. 

Matthew 11:28-30

Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Somewhere to Be

The words came like a punch in the gut. 

She had slaved. Labored. Poured. Her heart, her soul, her sweat, her energy...she wanted to make this meal the best. Everything needed to be perfect: the house spotless, the food just right, the hospitality flawless. Her name didn't mean "mistress of the house" for nothing. She wanted--nay, needed--to prove to him that she could do this. He would feel special, honored, and valued because of her. 

Ripples of excitement coursed through her as she readied the house and planned her courses and checked off her list. Few things match the relish of a checked off list. But as the hours of preparation wore on, she felt herself growing weary. This was taking longer than she had planned. The clock ticked by faster than she could work and the knot in her stomach grew. She wouldn't be ready in time. When he arrived, she was practically in a frenzy. She had burned the bread the first time around and spilled on her dress and the fish wasn't turning out right and she couldn't mess up the dessert and of course there were the drinks and where the hell was Mary??? Her unfinished list loomed over her head, taunting. And there her sister sat, peacefullly listening and hanging onto every word he said while she slaved away in the kitchen. 

She snapped. 

And then he had the audacity to tell her that Mary had chosen better. 

She was speechless. She might've replied had she not remembered that at the moment the bread was about to burn. Again. 

As she pulled the bread from the oven, a blend of tears and sweat and fury blurred her vision. This was her moment and it was ruined. She had wanted so desperately to make him feel special...to prove...to prove...to prove what? Something. Anything. 

And in that moment, she was spent. There were no more wells of industriousness and strength and fortitude to pull from. Years of being the strong one and carrying the weights and the burdens of her reckless sister and ailing brother bore down on her. And she couldn't do it anymore. Quite simply, she was tired. Tired of picking up the pieces. Tired of pulling herself up by her bootstraps. Tired of wearing her "put together" facade because, while everyone else might fall apart, she sure as hell wasn't going to! And in that instant, she envied Mary for the very thing she always criticized her of--laziness, or as she was beginning to see it: the ability to simply "be." Quite frankly, she had no idea how to just "be." 

Emotions simmering down, she replayed his words over and over and over: "Martha, Martha, you are weary and upset over many things. But few things are needed--indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better and it will not be taken away from her." 

What initially came as a slap in the face changed the more she mulled over it. The light in his eyes. The tenderness in his voice. The beckoning of his hand. He wasn't criticizing her. He was inviting her. Wasn't he the very one who said, "Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest?" And what was she doing? Everything but that. No, he wasn't telling her to work alone or comparing her to her sister criticizing her for her work. Rather, he was inviting her to do what Mary was doing, to rest and to simply be with Him. 

Martha took a deep trembling breath and looked at her unfinished meal, messy kitchen, and stained dress. 

Forget dessert. She had somewhere to be. 

Matthew 11:28-30

Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Further reading in Luke 10:38-42

Salt and Bland Religion

I watched two episodes of a TV series yesterday that were absolutely hilarious and would be super easy for me to get addicted to. But as I watched them, the question, "Is this honoring to my king?" kept running through my mind. I tried to avoid answering the question, but I knew what it was. While funny, much of the content exonerated things that I simply can't condone. As much as I wanted to keep watching, I finally pulled myself away and pouted about how annoying my "overreactive conscience" is.  

Then I opened up the Word and my eyes landed upon Matthew 5:13 "You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored?" I didn't make it any further than that because I knew this was the Holy Spirit speaking. 

So, for those of you who don't know me, I am somewhat of a health nut. Nutrition and its effects on the body fascinate me to no end. There's this little thing called salt. What most people think is that you're not supposed to get too much salt because it can cause problems such as hypertension and high blood pressure. Well, sort of. Actually, what you're not supposed to get too much of is table salt whereas mineral salt (the way God created it!) is actually a highly nutrient dense food that's important for our bodies to function properly. 

What's the difference? Mineral or sea salt is basically dried up sea water and it's chock full of all the nutrients and minerals from the sea. Table salt--what most of you are using--is salt that has been stripped of all its minerals so that all that's left is the sodium. Here's the problem: when we eat salt our bodies expect to get all the other minerals along with the sodium. But because they're not getting them, it craves more and this can lead to an imbalance in the body. What does this have to do with TV???

When we walk with the Lord and follow wholeheartedly after Him, we become like salt--full of nutrients and flavor to give to the world. But when we start to compromise our values, our standards, or our beliefs, we start losing nutrients. We may still have flavor, but it's false advertising. We're promising those around us something of great nutritional value, when really we just have a bunch of sodium which, by itself, can cause health problems. 

This is religion without Jesus.

This is the talk without the walk.

This is saying "I follow Jesus" while still living how we please. 

This is the very reason so many people are turned off to the church because we promise what we can't give; we say one thing then do another. We've lost our saltiness and who wants to eat a plate of unsalted food?

Psalm 34:8 says, "Taste and see that the Lord is good." But how will people believe that God's the real deal if His followers are bland and boring and don't really look different than anyone else?

Now here's the clincher. If we ourselves haven't actually "tasted and seen," then how can anyone around us? Only when we truly know God and seek Him with our whole hearts, can we live in such a way to make a difference. In other words, if we want to be salty we have to drench ourselves in the se

Beauty in Chaos

When you look at this picture what do I see? I see something very poignant in the tangled mess of barbed wire and bright red poppies. They're trying so desperately to break through and live how they were created to live but it's incredibly difficult. Sometimes I so relate to the struggle of the poppies, trying so hard to still be beautiful when their lives are a chaotic mess. 

The parable of the sower in Matthew 13 comes to mind. The sower sowed seed which fell on all different types of soil, rocky, thorny, and ready. Verse 7 speaks of  the seeds that "fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them." In verse 23 Jesus explains that "what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word and it proves unfruitful." 

How often has that been me? The Holy Spirit will speak something or I'll read something and instead of allowing it to change me, I get so caught up in worry or stress or busyness or idleness or who-knows-what that I miss what the Lord was trying to teach me. I let the Word of God get choked out by nothing, really. 

I like to think of myself as that perfectly good soil all the time. But, in all honesty, I'm not. Sometimes there are lot of rocks and a lot of thorns. And you know how the good soil gets to be ready soil? It's tilled and plowed and worked until the rocks and the the thorns are taken out. I think if we take an honest look at our lives we'll see that we have more rocks and thorns than we'd like to admit. But instead of despairing, we can allow the Holy Spirit to pull out the thorns and get rid of the rocks. 

And while we're in the process, don't lose heart. There may be seed that's started to grow and feels choked, but God is a master at doing the impossible with those that will let Him and He's patient enough to work the land. As this picture shows, God can create beauty in the midst of chaos. And he can heal even the thorniest of hearts. 

Even in the Little Things

Can I just start off by saying this last week sucked and get it over with? 

Now that that's established, can I just interject that God is really, really, really faithful? 

This was a hard week for a lot of reasons: a painful death of a dream combined with a lesson learned the hard way; the Boston bombing plus the explosion in Texas; a bout of homesickness mixed in with some bodily sickness and a fair bit of lonesomeness all made for a serious case of the blues. Yes, my friends, this was an all around down and out week. 

But thankfully, down and out weeks don't have to end as down and out weeks. I have said before that God always surprises me about how He meets my needs. Just when I feel like I'm at my rope's end, He gives me a brief respite. These have come in the forms of a last minute prayer and worship session with two friends, a Thanksgiving dinner with a group of Americans, a trip to Albania with Nesha, coffee with Linda or Soni, an unexpected note from a friend, and a Skype call with someone from home. 

Last night--after I spent the day moping around in a sinus-pressured cloud--He surprised me again. Saturday nights we have our weekly Real Change youth group meeting and this Saturday we had a group from Pristina, a nearby city, coming to join us. Mixed in with this group of Albanians were two American guys. Now, this may seem super insignificant to those of you in the States as you are surrounded by English speaking Americans 24-7, but to me this was gargantuan. Currently, whenever I encounter an unknown American I feel kind of like I'm encountering a celebrity. Pathetic, I know, but honest. 

After youth group was over, their group and a portion of ours went out for coffee. And it was just fun. Really, there was absolutely nothing significant about it except that it was exactly what my heart was needing: social interaction with like-minded people who speak my language--literally, culturally, and spiritually. 

So today I'm thankful for a God who knows me and loves me and cares for me, even in the little things.  

Disillusionment and Jesus

I confess, I am currently feeling this little thing called "disillusionment." It's what happens when life looks messier and harder and grittier than you expect. It's what happens when really bad things happen to really good people or when those you trusted make terrible choices or when you see another picture of a child starving in Africa or see that a bombing's happened somewhere new or hear on the news about a mother killing her kids or ______________. You fill in the blank.

I received some hard news this week. And my initial reaction was to throw up my hands and say, "God, why?" This morning, I found myself at the foot of the cross, a place that I haven't really been in a while. I came before the Lord in honesty, in humility, and in hurt. No facades, no pretentions, just me and Jesus. During that time of worship, I rememberd why it is that I follow Jesus--the cross, the sacrifice, the sweet taste of forgiveness. I found myself caught up in His mercy and forgiveness and healing. While the world is tumultuous and unstable, He is faithful and His love never fails. And no matter what I feel, no matter what life looks like, no matter what happens, my God is the same, yesterday, today, and forever. When we come to Him, exactly as we are, exactly where we are, He gives us exactly what we need for the moment we're in.

Disillusionment happens when we put our hope in people, things, or circumstances. But all of those are subject to change. The only cure for disillusionment is to put our complete hope in God, for He will never lead us astray or disappoint. I leave you with the words of a beautiful, poignant song:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus
Look full in His wonderful face
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace

That's advice I'm choosing to take.

The Continuum of Katelyn's Comedic Kosovo Crises

My mother posed a question to me not long ago. It was this: "At whose expense will your landlord amuse himself when you're gone?" Now this came after a rather eventful, eh, event. You see I had done laundry on this fateful Saturday, which I do on random occasions when I realize that I'm running out of clothes. Well, on this particular day my washing machine (an ancient German thing) was filled with heavy towels. When wet, these towels are heavy--so heavy that my washing machine had a serious case of indigestion.

. 

Now, I don't know about you, but when my stomach's upset, I want to lie down. Not so with my washing machine. He (it's a he) started shaking. Actually, it was more like convulsing. And groaning--he has the most terrible groans when his stomach's upset. I rather thought that he was going to explode, but he didn't. He simply didn't stay in one place.

Earlier, I had asked my landlord to replace a light in my bathroom about half an hour before I had to leave for worship practice. Yes, I know how to change a light bulb. Just not this lightbulb. Nor did I have any idea where to buy the kind of lightbulb that is in my bathroom. Besides, I asked in Albanian (go me!), so I should get points for multi-lingual communication, right? I was about to leave for worship when I ran to grab something from the bathroom. Only one problem, the door refused to open. My roommate wasn't home, why on earth was it closed? After a moment, I realized--"Holy crap, the washing machine is in front of the door." His tummy was apparently very upset.

"Well," I thought, "I don't have time to deal with this now. I have to go!" Not gonna lie, in the back of my mind I thought, "And Ramiz will probably come up and discover the problem and fix it for me." Terrible, right? That's exactly what happened. In the middle of worship practice, Ramiz burst into the room a blend of frantic and confused "Do you realize what has happened in your bathroom? How did that happen?" And then he gave me the look. Not the "how can I possibly put up with your mishaps" look, but an incredulous "how do you get into these mishaps?" look.

And that, my friend, is a question I'm still trying to answer.