fruity

I love fruit. One of the great perks of living in the tropics is the huge assortment of fruits that are delicious, available, and affordable. I enjoy eating pineapples and papayas and mangoes and lychee and bananas and dragon fruit and pomelo and mandarins and guava and jackfruit and, well, you get the idea...

But, I am talking about a different kind of fruit.
"The Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!" Galatians 5:22-23

More than I want to eat a tropical fruit salad, I want to produce a holy one. I want to exude love and and an inexpressible joy. I want to carry peace with me wherever I go. I want to wait patiently with a positive attitude. I want to be kind and consider others. I want to choose good over evil. I want to be faithful and true and sincere and be committed. I want to be gentle in my words and my actions. I want to possess a level of self-control that is much less about self than about the good of others.

"A good tree produces good fruit, and a bad tree produces bad fruit. A good tree can't produce bad fruit, and a bad tree can't produce good fruit. So every tree that does not produce good fruit is chopped down and thrown into the fire. Yes, just as you can identify a tree by its fruit, so you can identify people by their actions." Matthew 7:17-20

The Bible has a lot to say about fruit--good and bad. Fruit has a lot more to do with actions than it does with beliefs, I think. I realize that in most cases our beliefs shape our actions, but sometimes we can believe, or at least think we believe, something yet our actions contradict that very belief. It is right to advocate for justice, yet we still purchase items we know are produced in sweatshops by exploited workers. It is right to patiently love our annoying neighbors, but we still come up with excuses to cut the conversation short. It is right to rejoice in every single day we have because God has created it and no day like it will ever happen again, yet we count the hours until lunch...and then 5pm...and then bedtime. It is right to strip down naked to offer our clothes to the enemy who just stole our coat, yet we worry about getting cold or being embarrassed. It is right to keep our word, yet sometimes that means we are inconvenienced or over-committed. It is right to study the Scriptures, yet what good is this knowledge if it never produces any action?

I desperately want people to see good, godly fruit in my life, but I do nor particularly care if it has anything to do with me. I simply want people to know that there is a God in heaven who loves and cares for them, who rejoices with them, who is patient with them, who gives peace that passes all understanding, who is kind and good, who is faithful beyond what any of us could deserve, and who carries us gently when we are broken. And, I think it is a lot easier for people to know and to believe in and to trust that God in heaven if they are able to see even the slightest glimpse of that on this earth. I pray that I would be a glimpse of that, of that holy fruit salad--sweet and refreshing.

how do we measure?

How do we measure success? What constitutes success? If we don't succeed, do we automatically fail?

I do not have the answers, but I have been realizing more and more that God does not measure success in the same ways that we do. God sees a much greater picture than we do. God does not measure success by numbers and percentages. At least, I don't think He does. I think He is concerned with much greater things.
I just finished a book that discussed the absolute power that compassion has on people. Showing compassion and genuine care and sincere love are incredibly powerful in seeing hearts and lives changed. God cares little about how well we follow the rules if we fail to look past our own noses. And, yes, compassion can be transforming, but it does not depend on us. It is not our failure if our compassion does not change people. This is a really hard pill for me to swallow. I like to know that I am being helpful, that I am doing the right thing, that I am successful.

In Gregory Boyle's book Tattoos on the Heart he says, "Success and failure, ultimately, have little to do with living the gospel. Jesus just stood with the outcasts until they were welcomed or until He was crucified--whichever came first."

Is that success? Just waiting it out? Crucifixion?

I am beginning to think that maybe it is. Maybe success is more about the courage to stand. Maybe Atticus Finch had it right. Maybe it really is about death. Jesus did tell us we would have to take up our cross daily to follow Him. And, I cannot argue that Jesus' death resulted in the greatest success ever...

little things

Have you ever had one of those moments where you just know that God loves you and hears you and answers your prayers?
I had one of those moments a couple days ago. I was running some errands on a drizzly afternoon, which is less than fun on motorbike. It involves donning a stylish plastic rain poncho and trying to avoid being pelted by large raindrops. One of my errands was to purchase a couple ears of corn that I needed for a recipe I was making.

The problem with buying corn in Cambodia is that it is typically only available on mobile carts. In America we have drive-through, but in Cambodia it is more like drive-by. The corn cart has a moto attached, which means it is a fun surprise to grab an ear of corn when out in the evening but a great inconvenience to try to hunt down a cart for a specific need. So, I was driving around completing my other errands, keeping my eyes peeled for a corn cart with no success.

But, as I sat at a stoplight, I prayed that the Lord would place a corn seller along the street on my drive toward home, a street where I do not normally see corn sellers. The light turned green and I turned toward home, scanning the street and all the side streets I passed for the familiar sight of ears of corn hanging in plastic bags from the cart.

And, there it was. Stopped. On my side of the street.

God heard. God provided. God reminded me how much He cares about even the small, seemingly insignificant things in my daily life. He's pretty great like that.

i just don't know...

I was thinking the other day about what Khmer phrases I use most often, which ones have most infiltrated my daily vocabulary.
Of course, there are the expected phrases, the ones everyone learns in their first week of study--"thank you," "how much is that?" "please bring me some water." All of these regularly escape my lips.

But, I think the phrase I use more than I ever thought I would or more than I ever have before in my life is "I just don't know what to do."

Sometimes I feel as though that is my standard answer when people ask me questions. And, for someone who really likes to provide answers, to enact change, to move forward, to make a difference, that is a really hard phrase to say. It has been a lesson in humility. I have realized that I do not have all the answers, and quite possibly I do not have any of the answers. What I do know is that I have a lot of questions, and the more questions I ask, the more questions I have. I believe there are answers somewhere. I believe that there is something that can be done, something that I can do even, but most of the time I just do not know what that is...at least not yet.

A few years ago I think I would have pretended that I had the answer and plowed forward. A few days ago I probably still pretended that I had the answer...and then the bubble burst over my head again, and I realized once more that "I just don't know what to do."

I am realizing that it is okay not to know. It is okay to have to ask questions, to consult others, to do a mountain of research to solve a molehill of a problem. It is okay. I realize that I would much prefer to say, "I just don't know what to do," than to say, "Follow me! I've got all the answers," only to realize after the fact that my surety was misplaced and actually resulted in more harm than good.

narrow gate, difficult road

"You can enter God's Kingdom only through the narrow gate. The highway to hell is broad, and its gate is wide for the many who choose that way. But the gateway to life is very narrow and the road is difficult, and only a few find it." Matthew 7:13-14

I think Cambodia has taught me a lot about narrow gates and difficult roads. Maneuvering through tight spaces and navigating hazardous streets are mandatory for driving in Cambodia. I have developed a keen sense of spatial reasoning that I never before would have claimed. Daily I ask myself questions like this, "Can you fit through that tiny space between the trash truck and moto carrying the live chickens?" What is the reward for doing so? Well, partially the ability to breathe without gagging and partially because there is a certain satisfaction of weaving to the front of the line of traffic waiting for a green light. It is the joy of finding the opening, deeming that it is indeed possible to fit through, and seizing it before someone else robs you of the opportunity.

I think following Jesus is sometimes like that. There is a joy in finding the openings, realizing that beyond all rationality you can actually fit, and jumping in with both feet.

That is not to say that you may not get bumped in the process. Or, that you may not have to do some skillful bobbing and weaving. The road is difficult. Unpredictable things happen. Sometimes the sky opens up and pours on you without warning. People try to cut you off, and they often succeed. Sometimes you have to slam on the brakes. Other times you have to gun it. I think we are often surprised when we learn about the gate and actually realize that the road to get there is not as nicely paved as we would like. We are frustrated when the lane lines are missing...if the road is even wide enough for lanes. We are annoyed by the herd of cattle leisurely crossing the road in front of us. And, I think we forget that this life is about the journey, the journey we were already warned was difficult.

expectations

Expectations. High ones. Low ones. Somewhere in the middle ones.

I am realizing more and more that my expectations for myself are extremely high, probably unachievable. Most of the time I am not bothered by this. I prefer to work toward the impossible. I know I am a bit of an idealist sometimes, but the rest of the time I am a realist. I balance myself out. Most of the time I really like setting high goals. I like working hard, filling my days, being intentional and structured. I like dreaming at least six impossible things before breakfast (I guess, the Queen of Hearts did offer a bit of wisdom to poor Alice in the midst of Wonderland). But, sometimes these expectations become a bit much. This became quite obvious to me in the last couple weeks when I felt quite confident that there were not enough hours in the day, or days in the week, for me to be able to fulfill all of my commitments, to accomplish all of my plans. I had homework and work and meetings and obligations and spotty Internet and...other expectations I had placed on myself.

And, really, the problem with expectations is that we don't just have them for ourselves. We have them for everyone else, too. We have them for friends, teachers, co-workers, family, and even God. In this, I have realized that my expectations of others are often quite low. This is not because I have terrible people in my life. Quite the opposite. But still, I have low expectations. I think maybe it is because I used to have ridiculously high expectations of others and was disappointed so many times that in a lot of ways I simply gave up expecting. It is not fair, but it is true. I hope that one day it is not true anymore.

I hope especially that it is not true about God. I know that sometimes my expectations are low. I do not doubt for a moment whether or not God has the power, authority, and ability to cast a mountain into the ocean or remove a cancerous tumor instantly or heal my heat-induced mid-afternoon headache. I do not doubt that He can, but I sometimes doubt that He will. I do not expect it. My faith is not dependent upon that. Some may call that maturity, a deep-rooted belief in God's sovereignty even when it is not understood. I like this. Some may call it cowardly, yellow-bellied. I do not like this, but I fear that this may be more accurate. Maybe I expect more of my created being than I do of its Creator. Maybe the many distractions of this world crowd out the great expectations. Maybe I am too afraid of being disappointed to expect anything at all. Maybe, actually most assuredly, there is a loving God who will take my mess and teach me once again what it means to expect wonders that never cease. This is my prayer today.

thoughts on faith

I am unsure whether I am qualified to make a post about faith, but then, I am not sure that anyone is. Faith is a bit of a tricky thing, I guess. I am not sure what it is really supposed to look like. I have been trying to figure it out. Hebrews 11:1 says, "Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see." But, sometimes I have had the faith that something I hoped for would work out. I hoped against hope that it would, but it didn't. And, instead of being crushed and disappointed, I was actually relieved and thankful. For many years I earnestly believed that when I graduated from college, an opportunity to go live in the bush of Africa would fall into my lap. It didn't. And, I am quite glad for that now. I suppose I could chalk that up to an immature faith, or a self-centered rather than God-centered hope. But, the truth is that I just don't know. It does not say that we have to have a mature faith in order to get what we hope for. What constitutes a mature faith in the first place? And, how do I explain the things that have come to pass as a result of my confident faith, even in its immature state?
The truth is that there are things in which it is easy for me to have faith. Gravity. I believe that a gravitational pull is keeping me from floating to the clouds. The moon. I believe that the moon and stars are still in their places even though I cannot see them when the sun is shining. The resurrection of Jesus Christ. I was not there. I did not see the empty tomb. I did not touch the scars in His hands, but I believe they are there.
2 Corinthians 5:7, "For we live by believing and not by seeing."
But, sometimes I want to know that one day I will see all these things I believe come to pass. Is that unreasonable? I am afraid that it might be. I am not going to cease believing because I don't see, but I cannot say that I blame others for doing so. I am not shocked when tragedies happen and people "lose" their faith in God. What happened to the assurance of those hopes? By all rights, it seems that they were buried with someone's baby or burned in a house fire or exploded in a landmine. It is at those points that I avoid making judgments and clap my hand over my mouth before I stick my foot in it. Who am I to swab over another's reality with my confident assurance? That probably sounds harsher than it is meant to. I believe in God's sovereignty. I do not doubt it for a moment, but I am also aware that not everyone has this same confidence. And, I am just saying that I don't hold it against you. I get where you are coming from because really, I don't know that I could give you the hows and whys of it.
Maybe that is because faith just is. No hows. No whys.