A Little Level Headed for Once

Sometimes I read scripture and, quite frankly, I don't buy it. It sounds too good to be true. If the Word of God is true, shouldn't life look, well, different? The reality I live in certainly doesn't reflect the ideal that I would expect from reading certain passages.

 Take this little section I found tonight.

Now to Him who is able to do abundantly more than all that we ask or think (imagine) according to the power that is at work within us. -Ephesians 3:20

Now, if I follow this passage of scripture to its logical conclusion, then I should be a) really really excited, b) filled with faith, and c) in great awe. And here's why-this scripture blatantly implies that:

1. My imagination (and I, admittedly, have a very active one) is far too small to comprehend God's infinite power, wisdom, creativity, ability, imagination, resources, passion, strength etc.

2. Asking means something. If He can do more than we ask, there is an implication that we should ask for more. You know, that whole "ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you" thing. I'm pretty sure that's in there somewhere too. I get the feeling that if people really believed this then they would start asking for crazy, ridiculous things like impossible revival, radical miracles, unbelievable opportunities, and unearned blessing--prayers that a reasonable minded person wouldn't be foolish enough to pray.

3. Now, here's the kicker. At this point, we have to draw the line. In essence, this scripture declares that we have access to this power. This power that we can't even imagine, we have access to. In other words, nothing should be impossible for us. I think there was also something about a mustard seed in there, now that I think about it. So if we actually believed this stuff, wild events should take place, right? I mean, people should be getting healed, addictions broken, marriages restored etc. We should be hearing about how checks show up right when the water's about to get turned off and people are finding work in a horrible economy and God's saying the same thing to people on different continents and people start having mind boggling opportunity to go to countries where the gospel isn't allowed. Shouldn't there be crazy "coincidences" happening all the time and people are falling on their faces before the living God in surrender and freedom and unbelievable favor with people who have no business giving you favor? At the same time, shouldn't there be persecution? People hating us cause we love Jesus...but every time they attempt to defame the name of Christ His name grows in honor? Moreover, we wouldn't be afraid of ANYTHING. Not afraid to start a business in a slow economy or go to a country that is totally different than what we know or quit a successful job to go into ministry or talk to a coworker about Jesus or study something impractical like theatre or art because you belive God's called you to take a faith leap or selling everything you have to give to the poor or...or...or...there are a hundred thousand different scenarios that could follow that "or."

That is, if we actually took Scripture literally. But it's a good thing that we we're level headed enough not to buy into that charismatic nonsense. Otherwise, things might get a little out of hand. 

Freedom!!!!

Tonight I encountered Jesus.

I had spent most of the day feeling heavy and lazy and unmotivated. After an evening that felt utterly like defeat, I'd had enough. I saw the possibility of spiraling deep into depression and old chains and started to pray--proclaim, rather, the truth of who I am in Christ and where I stand. At first, it was awful. I felt like I could barely speak. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and run away. But I kept going. And then something happened. My words began to on a life of their own as I recognized that I have a choice, that I could choose freedom or I could choose to remain in bondage. As I proclaimed, the presence of the Lord rested on me and I found myself speaking such truth with such passion and with such faith. By my power? No, by the grace of God! This same grace that He has given each one of us (this means you have access to this same grace!).

Freedom was mine for the taking. And I was grabbing hold of it. 

And even now, I cling to it and I refuse to let go. You see, I have a choice. And I choose to be free.

"Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Corinthians 3:17) and if you've accepted Christ, the Spirit of the Lord is inside of you! Therefore freedom is inside of you! 

"Those whom the Son sets free are free indeed!" (John 8:36). Jesus came to set the captives free. With His blood that He shed He purchased freedom for us ALL. He's already done it.

Therefore,  "throw off your chains, O captive daughter of Zion!" (Isaiah 52:2). "It is for freedom's sake that we have been set free. Stand firm, then and do not let yourselves be burdened by a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1). 

Tonight, I had a choice. Remain passive and hopeless and bound. Or step into authority and hope and freedom. I made a choice. And I will make the choice as many times as I have to. I chose and am choosing freedom. I choose to be free.

Do you? 

That Awkward Moment When...

Normally I'm not a big fan of "that awkward moment" phrases as they are cliche and overused. But I couldn't really think of a more fitting title for a blog entirely about awkward moments. Of which there have been many. As most of you are very far far away, I have decided that it is only fair that you get a small taste of some of my hilariously painful and (warning: other overused cliche teenage phrase coming up) "FAIL" moments. Here goes....that awkward moment when:

-You find yourself staring in bewilderment at your front door. You have frustratingly been pulling at the key to your house, which refuses to budge. Finally you get your landlord to come help you and wait upstairs while he fixes the problem. Over an hour later he reappears with a new key for you as yours broke off in the door handle and he had to replace the whole lock. Oops. 

-On a hot, sultry afternoon you are on a walk. You are not particularly fond of the place you chose to walk that day as it is out of your ordinary sphere. A man in a car rolls by and (I am assuming) offers a ride. He doesn't listen when you say, "Nuk flas Shqip" (I don't speak Albanian) multiple times and keep walking. So finally you yell at him in tongues until he drives away. Let's avoid this road from now on. Yikes.

-You're going to exchange money and find yourself, not at a bank, but next to a foreign man in a back alley, late at night. Every scene from James Bond, Mission Impossible, and basically every action film floods your mind as you tensely glance both ways, then pull out your hefty load of cash (okay...if you call 800 dollars hefty) before making the discreet exchange. Except that instead of a back alley on a dark night, it was the side of a busy road, in the middle of the day, and the only one who considered this event even remotely James Bond-esque is you and your overactive imagination. Fail. 

-It's 11:00 pm. You've been out later than you planned and you just want to get in nice and quiet to avoid waking your landlords who live on the bottom floor. Only problem is the gate to your door is locked. You have to ring the doorbell for your roommate to let you in (thus waking the landlords). And when she opens the door, the alarm goes off. Quiet...or not.

-You woke up early, had a glorious run through the city. You are feeling victorious (and a little rebellious) that you went on a run before most of the world was up to gawk at you and remind you that you're "not in Kansas anymore, Toto."  You have just taken a luxurious bath and are dreaming of the awesome breakfast and coffee you are about to serve yourself. However, upon getting out of the tub, you bump a pipe coming out of the wall. In an instant your peaceful morning is interrupted by a torrent of water spewing from the wall. For what feels like forever you stare in shock, contemplating if running down three flights of stairs in a bathrobe is an acceptable way to ask for help. You decide that it isn't, get dressed with soaking wet hair, all while your bathroom floods. Screaming hysterically, "Ramiz! Ramiz! Uje! Uje!", you attempt to let your landlord understand the urgency of the situation. He doesn't. So you scream some more, "Hajde! Hajde!" and run upstairs, motioning for him to follow. He saunters slowly after you. When he FINALLY gets upstairs, he meanders into the pool otherwise known as "the bathroom" and turns a knob less than two feet away from the tub, thus stopping the water. Yep. 

-Two lovely Albanian girls are staying at your house for the weekend. However, a few weeks ago a screw came out of your bathroom door handle and you haven't bothered to put another one in (mostly because you don't know how to ask for it Albanian and you've learned the trick of carefully opening the door so the handle doesn't come off). Well, you forget to mention this little detail to your guests and the handle comes off. And, this time, we can't figure out how to get it back on. It's late at night and we don't want to wake up Ramiz to come fix it, so we decide we'll all go to the Center (which is right next to my house) to use the restroom there. Well, let's just say our attempts at silence utterly failed. Ramiz came to see what all the ruckus was and why on earth we were at the Center so late. sheepishly, we (or i should say Irena as she speaks Albanian!) explained. On the plus, he opened up the second story apartment for us to use until he fixed the door. That's good, right? 

Well...there are a few of my awkward moments. Hope you got a few laughs and experienced a glimmer of the trauma I've been through. I'm sure I'll have to go through counseling or something for all this. If nothing else, I've learned to find humor and hilarity in my day to day mishaps and experiences. Near or far, I hope you'll do the same! In the mean time, I'll try not to break anything...

Disaster Offerings

"He received out of her disaster."

That was a line that I wrote while updating my last blog post. Tonight I was reading that blog because I needed some encouragement. I didn't finish reading; I got to that line and was immediately moved. 

The woman with the alabaster jar was a disaster; there's no way around it. I can't tell you how often I've used the "but I'm a disaster" excuse to not pour out on Jesus, thinking, "I'll come back when I'm more put together." But when does "more put together" really come? And do I honestly want to wait that long before I turn to Jesus? 

You see, she didn't care. Or she refused to care. Or she cared and she went anyway. Because she recognized that if she didn't go then, she never would and she would spend her whole life regretting that she didn't give Him everything. 

All too often we think that we have to measure up to some invisible, exacting standard before we have something to offer--such as those at the dinner party did, when they said, "Lord, do you know what kind of woman is touching you?" A lie that the enemy once used to debilitate me was that same one: "You can't touch Jesus, look what kind of person you've been." But that's simply a lie! Jesus wants us now. Exactly as we are. Disaster and all.

When she poured out that fragrant nard on Him, He was blessed. He received. When she washed His feet with her tears, He was moved. He was honored. When she wiped her tears with her hair, He was touched. He was glorified. You see, He received out of her disaster. The very fact that she was willing to come to Him as a disaster moved Him to the very core. And as everyone else shook their heads in disdain, He loved her. And He defended her. And He was blessed because of her.

So don't wait until you're "more put together" or you'll never come. I know I never would. Come as you are. Bring what you have. Offer yourself. That's all He asks for. And quite frankly, that's all I have to give.

Costly Perfume

Let my praises rise like incense
Let this offering fill Your senses
All for You, all for You

I pour it out at Your feet
All I am for You
I pour it out at Your feet
All my costly perfume
The fragrance fills the room
All my life for You

This is only a portion of a song that I recently wrote about the woman with the alabster jar, who pours her perfume on Jesus. Most of the song talks about shame and about dealing with the crowds who are all staring at her. What she did cost her far more than the years worth of wages held that perfume bottle; it cost her her dignity, her pride, and her reputation. While her reputation wasn't much to begin with, I imagine that there was a sort of pride she carried in not associating with those who considered themselves better than her. And yet, she walked into a room filled with those very scoffing eyes and mocking voices because she wanted Jesus more than anything else.

That kind of passion and courage astounds me and amazes me and enthralls me. I want it and yet am terrifed of it--that reckless abandon that threw absolutely everything at His feet. She was a complete spectacle--a snotty red-eyed mess, her hair absolutely everywhere, covered in perfume and tears and dirt from Jesus' feet. All the while the dignified religious men were watching, mouths agape in disgust, shock, and horror. And Jesus just stood there. And received. Think of that...he received out of her disaster. Most of us would have called her crazy, He called her blessed.

In the middle of her most vulnerable, humbling, messy moment yet, she became the most beautiful, talked about, and captivating woman in the New Testament. I wonder how she felt. Did she feel foolish? Relieved? Exhausted? Overwhelmed? Ashamed? Free? Forgiven? Healed? All of the above? What drove her to so foolishly fall at His feet in the middle of the crowd--at someone else's house, no less? I am fascinated by this woman, and I am fascinated by how much her story moves me. I think what fascinates me most is how very very different we are and how very very much I relate to her.

Like her, I am driven by this passion to give everything for Jesus and yet everything isn't easy. Everything costs. A lot. And there are so many moments when I don't like what it costs to follow Jesus; it hurts, it's hard, it's unpleasant. And sometimes the road just plain gets lonely. Being in another country and another culture, I feel as if I'm often up and down, up and down. There are moments of such, such sweetness with The Lord and with my teammates and with new people. And then there are moments of such frustration and confusion and overwhelm. I can't decide whether I really want to be around people or I really want to hide away in my room and never emerge. And yet in the middle of my vacillating emotion, there is a continual steadiness, an unchanging knowing that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be: that the team I get the privilege of working alongside has been handpicked by God to be together. And that is wonderful, wonderful joy. And no matter what I'm feeling in the moment, I know that I know that I know that this is of God. Emotion will always take a backseat to that.

I guess what it comes down to is this: this is my offering. Being here. Following Jesus. Ministering alongside this team. It's beautiful and wonderful and costly. In Bend, I had an offering, it just looked different. It would have cost me to stay and it costs me to go. Here, the costs are simply more evident since my go-to comforts aren't as easy to come by. In many ways, it's healing. In many ways, it's refreshing. In many ways, it's filled with joy. And in many ways, it's hard.

But that's this journey, isn't it? And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Another amazing week...

This week, I got to see Jesus move.

Two ladies from the states came to join us for a week of ministry. Long story short, we had three days of intensive training and it was awesome! Without going into too much detail, here are the highlights:

-Wednesday night, we had prayer with the youth. Sue began giving words of knowledge to all the kids. I swear my mouth must've hit the floor. Even cooler, I started getting words too. And it was amazing to see how Sue would speak out to one kid exactly what the Holy Spirit would whisper to me or something that completely complemented what I was receiving.

-Teaching on spiritual gifts. We got to live it out and learn while we went!

-Watching Violetta, a pastor's wife from one of the other churches, get healed when we prayed! Whoop whoop (this cheer is your influence, Veronique!)!

-Karaoke night in Ferizaj with the youth group. Let's just say, as a musician, it can be very...challenging to sit quietly and listen as songs are intentionally being butchered before your very ears.

-TiranaFest! Genti, three girls, and I drove to Albania on Saturday morning for the Luis Palau Festival in Tirana. Awesome. Exhasting. Best part in my opinion, hands down, was the miracle we experienced crossing the border. Theoretically, kids under a certain age are supposed to have a notarized document saying that their parents are allowing them to leave the country with another adult. However, in the past, they've taken the documents and haven't needed them. So this time, Genti didn't stress it. But the border guards did. After being told we couldn't go through, we prayed with the girls, believed in faith, talked to someone else, and (45 minutes later) got through! Praise Jesus! What a faith building experience for the girls!

-Treasure Island. After getting home on Sunday completely and totally beat, I had to unwind. So I tried a classic I hadn't read; it was a good choice.

-Coffee and conversation with Nesha. The more time I spend with my roommate, the more I absolutely adore her. She is an absolute treasure! I feel so very blessed to live with her in this season. And this was a great escape from responsibility, as both of us were so exhausted that we didn't want to do anything productive. We were both feeling some serious adrenaline letdown after an intense week. So we went out for coffee...which was productive; we were building relationship. :)

Much love to you all! Thank you for all of your prayers; I can't tell you how much they mean to me. I need them!

Katelyn

Blown Away

Wow. Talk about an amazing day. I'm still reeling from the goodness of the Lord!

Mondays are team meetings. They usually go from 9-12ish. I woke up excited this morning, but a few minutes into the meeting, I was dragging. So was everyone else, it seemed.

The first week and half has been both really good and really hard. In all transparency, I didn't expect the adjustment to be nearly as hard on me as it has been. I experienced more culture shock than I'd prepared myself for. I expected to have to push myself through the meeting, as I felt burdened and weighed down. But the Lord, faithful as He is, had very different plans. Long story short: He moved, turned our discussion int intercession, and I left that meeting on fire. So much on fire that I just had to worship, my heart was burning. The bridge to Healer by Kari Jobe was a huge theme:
Nothing is impossible with You
Nothing is impossible
Nothing is impossible with You
You hold the world in Your hands

A few hours later, Nesha was heading out the door to visit a friend and she invited me to come along. This is a lady she met when the team handed out New Testaments earlier this year. As we were walking to her house, I wondered somewhat why I was going, given my level of Albanian fluency and all. Intercessor. That one word fluttered in my heart and I knew that that was why I was going. I was going to pray.

At first it was the normal chit-chat and complete awkwardness for me. But after awhile the conversation turned. My spirit quickened within me as the word Zoti came out of Nesha's mouth in increasing intervals. Zoti. God. I sat and prayed, having absolutely no idea what was going on except that there was an intense conversation. Then, Nesha said we were going to pray. She would interpret for me when I prayed. Nesha prayed. As I sat there, my heart fluttered again: pain in her left thigh. What?! No way. You've got to be kidding me. I'm not saying that. There is no way. Once again: pain in her left thigh. I'm not saying that; my stubborness persisted. Besides, I'll make YOU look like a fool and me and Nesha. Try me. Finally, Nesha stopped. Oh no. I have to do this.

"Ask her...if she has pain in her left leg."
"What?"
"Pain. In her left leg."
Nesha interpreted.
"Po. Po." came the response and she pointed to, lo and behold, her left thigh. My jaw virtually drpped at this announced. There's no way! I practically gigled through the next sentence.
"God wants to heal your leg. He showed me you have pain because He wants to heal." So I prayed. Short and simple. And the pain was gone.

Now, I've received words of knowledge before but never about healing. In fact, I've had a very hard time in the past even praying for healing for others. So here I am reeling from the fact that I just got to pray for this Kosovar woman for healing. And it happened. Then, her husband walks in the door.

At this point, I assume, it's time for us to leave. Not exactly. He sits down. Starts talking. Soon, Nesha is sharing the gospel with him. And the whole time is very open to discussion, talking about other world religions and Jesus. When does that happen? During all of this, I just sat amazed, watching this whole thing transpire. Five hours after we arrived, after dinner and tea, prayer, discussion, and general Kosovar hospitality, Nesha and I finally left. We were both awed by the events of the evening. While they didn't accept the Lord, the Spirit definitely moved. And I'm excited to see what the Lord continues to do.

On our walk home, I prayed, "Wow. Thanks for that, Daddy."

Once again, ever so softly in my heart, I heard a quiet whisper, "This is only the beginning."