A Christmas Prayer {A Life Overseas}

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Jonathan recently posted on A Life Overseas. Read the whole post here.

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“Where is the newborn king of the Jews? We saw his star as it rose,

and we have come to worship him.”

The Star of Bethlehem had a point, an important point. But the star was not the point.

The star fulfilled its role of leading across cultures and religious paradigms, down dusty roads and around a paranoid prince, to the Child. He was the Point, this Son, and he shone brighter. He, the Child-King, deserved adoration from all peoples, in all languages, for all of time.

And the Church, like the star, has a point. But the Church is not the point. Jesus is.

The star inspired a journey, away from comfort and the great “known.” So may the Church.

The star led through danger and politically dicey situations. So has the Church, historically, and so does the Church, presently.

The star challenged prejudice, inviting outsiders in. So may the Church.

The star incited worship, but not of itself. So may the Church.

As we celebrate the incarnation of Hope, 

the birth of the Lamb who was slain before the foundations of the world, 

let us pray for the Church, his glorious Bride, who waits expectantly for his return

and the restoration of all things.

Read the rest of the post here.

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I Need a Silent Night

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by Elizabeth

The pace of life in Phnom Penh can, all too often, be hurried and hectic. It’s not your traditional (imaginary) missionary life. It’s crazy, and it’s crazy-making, and I need to call a time-out. I need some space to breathe.

Over the last four months especially, a series of events have left me feeling dry and depleted. And now we’re smack dab in the middle of the holiday season, a season that creates its own frenzy. Lights! Tinsel! Frosted cookies!

Invitations pile up. Attendance feels mandatory at open houses and parties, cookie exchanges and carolings, even church services. These are all worthwhile and enjoyable activities. Even so, the expectations begin to mount. And for me, this time around, it all felt like a mountain I couldn’t scale.

When exactly did having Christmas cheer come to mean doing lots of Christmas activities? I don’t just want the appearance of Christmas cheer; I want Christmas cheer on the inside. But I’m not sure I can get it by doing Christmas the way it’s usually done.

So this year, I’m rebelling. I want a simple Christmas, and I’m taking drastic measures. I’m turning down invitations. I’m aware this might make me appear Scrooge-like and Grinchy. I’m risking it anyway. I’m sitting this season out. (On my couch.) I’m regrouping, retrenching, retreating. Clearing the calendar, saying no, and staying home.

In a culture where our worth is measured by how busy we are, I’m choosing to be countercultural, to go against the flow — or better yet, to drop out of the flow. For the sake of my sanity and for the good of my family’s emotional health.

So this Christmas season, you’ll find me sitting in my living room each evening, main lights dimmed but tree lights twinkling. You’ll find me singing my favorite Christmas carols with my family, resting in the news of the Christ Child and welcoming the peace He brings.

I’m losing myself in the marvel of the Christmas Story, in the wonder of the God-made-flesh, the One who dwelt among men. I’m ignoring the social scene and even the rush to buy presents, and I’m getting swept up in the mystery and majesty of the Nativity. I’m absorbing the Advent, and meeting God in the Messiah. I’m slowing down and savoring the story of our Savior.

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*Title inspired by Amy Grant’s song “I Need a Silent Night”

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Here’s my heart, O take and seal it {A Life Overseas}

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Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today. . .

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I want to finish the Christian life well. To continue to press in to God, listen to Him, and influence others to do the same. But what if don’t? What if I fizzle out, forsake my First Love, fail to follow Him to my dying breath? I’m not talking about losing my salvation; I know my salvation is secure. What I am talking about is slacking in my obedience, and not consistently seeking Him till the end of my days. (I know I’m not very old, but I still think about these things.)

This dread of mine is echoed in the songs of old. I hear it in James Waddel Alexander’s O Sacred Head: “What language shall I borrow to thank Thee, dearest friend, for this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end? O make me Thine forever, and should I fainting be, Lord let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.”

I sense it in Robert Robinson’s Come Thou Fount: “Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love; Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, Seal it for Thy courts above.” If you know this song, you know the first verse soars with a longing and love for God, but the fear of our own depravity overtakes this later verse.

Finish reading the post here.

The Glory of the Word of God

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by Elizabeth

~~~~~ For the word of God is alive and active (Hebrews 4:12) ~~~~~

A peculiar thing happens to me when someone lobs a Bible verse at me and lectures me on how to live my life: I feel trampled upon. I feel controlled and belittled. But when I read Scripture by myself, on my own, and happen upon some life-changing verse — even if it’s something someone else could have pointed out — then that verse is impactful and life changing.

Perhaps this is my stubbornness, my sin nature. But I also believe it’s a testament to the power of the living Word. The Text itself has the power to change us when we encounter it ourselves. I think this is why Scripture readings in church, by themselves and without any commentary at all, can be so very powerful.

When I have an encounter with God Himself, He speaks to my heart and tells me what to do. God’s Word is just so much more effective when God Himself is speaking to me, and not some angry know-it-all. Now, I’m not anti-sermon. I love good preaching and teaching. I love learning information, and I love hearing Bible commentary. What I dislike is having Bible verses thrown at me without love.

The Bible is a living, breathing text, and we were designed to sit under it. To listen, to stay awhile, to be changed. It’s why I have to read it myself. It’s why I feel so much closer to God when I do. Even if I don’t see specific changes happening yet, God’s word is active under the surface of my heart and slowly, sometimes imperceptibly, changing my attitudes over time.

I used to think prayer and Bible reading were separate (yet conjoined) endeavors. But maybe Bible reading is just listening to God talk to us. And if prayer is actually a conversation with God instead of merely my supplications, then listening to Him is one half of prayer. Which means that maybe, reading the Bible is actually . . . praying.

Could that really be prayer? Isn’t prayer when we talk to God? But nothing is separated or segregated in our life with God. I can pray while I sing, and I can worship God without song, when I stand in awe of His creation. So it’s possible that prayer and Bible reading are the same thing sometimes.

Prayer as Bible reading seems so mundane. It’s not fireworks or anything fancy. But it isn’t mundane. It’s God intersecting with the world. It’s God changing my heart – which is actually pretty miraculous if you ask me.

I think sometimes we lose the wonder of a changed heart. But the truth is, when we spend time with God, our hardened hearts can change. This is nothing short of miraculous. This is the glory of the Word of God.

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The Idolatry of Missions {A Life Overseas}

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Jonathan is over at A Life Overseas today, taking on a touchy subject.

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Missionaries are like the church’s Special Forces, right? They go into enemy territory, sometimes covertly, tearing down walls for Jesus. They have special training, preparing them to serve in the darkest places around the globe. Missionaries are on the front lines of the Kingdom of Heaven, right? I’m sorry, but no.

Wherever the Gospel is advancing, there is the front line. Wherever lives are being transformed by the love of Jesus, there is the leading edge of the Kingdom.

But aren’t missionaries the crème of the crop? Um, yeah, no. Turns out, we’re just people. We may travel more than most, and maybe we speak more languages than some, but the idea that missionaries are somehow “set apart” is dangerous. I’d like to begin a discussion about this. Care to join?

Whether these false ideas come from the missionaries themselves or those who send them, the consequence is the same: damage. Damage to the missionaries and damage to the churches who send them.

Finish reading this post here.