Sing His Praise

The sun beats down cheerfully, the sound of hammering in the distance. Green grass is beneath my feet, leafy trees, swaying in the breeze, and the sound of life murmurs in my ears. This place is alive.

I imagine, though, standing in the heart of an F5 tornado's path in Joplin, Missouri- that four months previous, I would not have felt the same life I did on that warm, sunny day in October. I try to imagine the church on whose foundation I stand- a mere slab, stripped clean. A little over four months ago, it probably had really nice stained-glass windows. It probably had nice upholstered pews and a communion table that was engraved with the words "In Remembrance Of Me." It probably had a baptismal with a nice mural painted behind it. It was probably a really nice church, at least that's the way I imagined it.

I look down at the plain white slab beneath my feet.

"For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Christ Jesus. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver precious stones, wood, hay, straw- each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each has done." 1 Corinthians 3:11-13

Looking around I realize how fragile this world really is, how futile our works are in comparison to God's power, and how fleeting the wealths of this world can be. Standing in the rubble of Joplin, Missouri, God tapped me on the shoulder an asked, "Whose foundation are you standing on?"

"Yours, Lord!" is often my hasty response, but standing in the midst of so much devastation, I had to ask myself again. And looking around, I questioned if I really knew.

What if I was one of the people in the church that day when it hit? What if I was one of the four that was killed in the refuge of the Lord's house, this very church? Would I still trust that His foundation would stand, when the wood, hay, and stubble was shredded around me? Would I know that even in allowing me to parish, God's rock was firm beneath my feet?

"The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold." Psalm 18:2

I believe those words are true. God is my rock. He was the rock in Joplin the day that the tornado hit. And He continues to be the rock in Joplin upon which so many people are rebuilding their lives. He is their rock as well as mine. And His is an eternal Kingdom.

If you were to go to Joplin now, you would see much of the same landscape I saw two weeks ago. To many, it is a sad, sad sight. Empty slabs, demolished houses, and debris litters the grass. Few trees are left standing. It's a desolate sight for a first-time beholder.

But this is my second time, and I think I am beginning to see a theme in Joplin that reveals a tiny piece of God's heart to me. Debris litters the GREEN grass. A few LEAFY trees are left standing. Empty slabs are CLEARED and NEW homes are being built. There is life in Joplin, there is hope in Joplin, and there is a Rock in Joplin proclaiming His redemptive plan.

Chris Newby told us a story the first day that we arrived in Joplin and stepped onto the slab of the church where we would be setting up the food kitchen. For the next four days we had the privilege of serving volunteers and victims hot meals, handing out necessities, and prepping salvaged building material for making sheds to give away to people who had lost their homes. His story was the perfect preface to our trip and an awesome picture of the way God was and is working in Joplin through this tornado.

The tornado hit May 22, 2011 on a Sunday night. High school graduation was over, most people were not at work, but many churches were gathered for fellowship and prayer when the sirens went off. There were 4 minutes between the sound of the first siren and the time that the three tornados merged into one enormous twister. The church to which I have been referring was directly across the street from the collision point. The church was full for a Sunday night Bible study.

All were afraid. Many were injured. Four died in the church that day.

Chris told us this as we stood there, silently taking in the tragedy, and then pointed to a chair sitting in the middle of the slab. It was an old green lounge chair, moldy from the rain, beat up, and tied to a flagpole where a Christian flag was waving in the breeze. "They haven't moved that chair since the tornado hit," he said. "Some kids were at church that night, playing around in the sanctuary with one of the hymnals. When the tornado was over and people were taking stock of what little remained of the church, they found the hymnal open to 'Amazing Grace.'"

Walking over to the hymnal, water-stained and warping from being exposed so long, I ran my finger across the pages and picked it up. I though it was a cool story, but I didn't really think much of it until I flipped it over and looked at the cover.

Sing His Praise

Though everything around you may perish, though you may stand alone, through wind and rain, through trials and temptations, through hardships and death, though battered and broken-

In Joplin Missouri, sing his praise.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.
T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to SING GOD'S PRAISE
Than when we've first begun.

"He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet on the rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord." Psalm 40:2-3

Falling in Love

Love.

It's such a simple word, yet it carries so many implications. Four letters with a thousand different meanings. I've been thinking about love a lot recently.

"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on it's own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends." 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a

This verse comes to mind. Love is so many things that I often times am not. Impatient with the customers at work when I'm at the end of an 8 hour shift? Unkind to the people who cut me off in traffic? Envious of girls whose bodies are 4 sizes smaller than mine? Boastful of my own skills and talents? Persistent with friends who don't want to do things my way? Irritable when I'm stressed by schoolwork? Resentful of friends who are lucky enough to be in relationships?  The list, unfortunately, goes on...

If there is one thing I am not- it is love.

Which leads me to wonder how can I use that word so flippantly on a day to day basis? How can I go from saying I love frozen yogurt to saying I love my mom to saying I love the all-powerful God of the universe in the span of one day? The word, in my opinion, is highly abused.

I am not here to make yet another point on society's abuse of language, though. I'm here to argue what I believe to be a more legitimate claim. It is nicely summed up by a quote from one of the speakers at the mission conference I attended this past weekend.

"When you're in love with Him... You're in love with Him!" God, that is.

I'd like to ask you to stop for a minute and think about this with me. I know that people often make this analogy, about treating God like your boyfriend, your husband, or someone else in life that you especially adore. That's not what I want you to imagine here. Those kinds of love are human; they let you down. Even the highest love on earth that you can imagine is still soured by sin. That person wont always love you back. They might forget to call on your birthday; they might even decided at some point that they don't want to be your friend anymore.

No. I don't want you to imagine a human love. I don't want you to compare this statement to anything you've ever experienced in this world before, even if it bliss. Lets go back to 1 Corinthians 13.

"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on it's own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends."

This is not the love of warm tingly feelings. It's not the love of fiery passion. It's not the love of irrational lovers, overly-protective parents, or fairytales for children. This is rock hard, unwavering, solid, foundational, unchanging, unconditional, unselfish, un-anything-you've-ever-imagined love.

Hold on; so if it's unlike anything you've ever imagined- why am I asking you to imagine it?

Because, I think, like me, if you try, you might just get an idea of the mind-boggling, life-changing collision course that I've been driving around in the last week. I think, just maybe, if you try to wrap you finite brain with me, around the infinite glory of a holy and just God, you might come to the same conclusion I have been racing toward in the past few months.

Worship. Awe. Praise. Gratitude. Passion. Mission.

And no, that last one isn't a typo. Mission, the mission. God's mission. I feel like I am getting ahead of myself. (Yet again- words are so inadequate!)

Over the past five months God has been leading me through a process that some would label as leading  to a "radical" conclusion. I would argue that it isn't that radical at all- but that is beside the point. Mission is a scary word. Even scarier is the idea of vocational missions. Even more scary than that is international vocational missions. I guess any scarier than that is martyrdom.

Another quote from the mission conference last weekend- "If a tribal chief chop's my head off- he's doing me a favor!"

Not too bad, I guess.  I mean considering that the very last thing on my bucket list (no joke) is to die for the sake of His name.

Callie Andra Tatum is radically sold out for the almighty God and wants to be martyred for His eternal kingdom. There you go, in case any of you were wondering what the ultimate goal of my life is- it's now copyrighted. Please don't misquote me for anything less.

So, over the process of going to Belize, Summer Project, Joplin, and jumping on board the leadership team here on campus, God has slowly been cultivating my heart for His people. Up until last weekend, I probably couldn't have told you as eloquently why, but that's what this blog post is for I suppose!

First and foremost, God has been cultivating my heart and my affections to Him. He's been pulling me closer through quiet times (which are on the incline!), prayer, leadership, and hundreds of other witnesses daily. Sometimes I fight back, sometimes I get angry, a lot of times I don't understand, but one thing I cannot deny is that He is working in my life in ways I would never have imagined. He's taken away idols, He's stripped away hopes and dreams, and all that's left is His masterpiece. It looks a lot less like me than I pictured, but then again: I'm not the artist. And I'm glad for that.

Secondly, with that heart makeover- He's shown me more and more that (big surprise) I'm not the center of His universe. He is. I know, profound, right? But seriously, that is such an easy concept to say, but yet again, not such an easy concept to swallow. God is the center of the universe, my universe- not me. AKA: One of my biggest desires in life is to be married and have children. What if God wants me to fall in love with Him alone and remain single on the mission field? I've been a theatre kid nearly all my life. What if God asks me to change my major to something completely unrelated to serve His kingdom? I'm a people pleaser- I love making other people proud of me, especially my parents. What if God told me to walk away from my family's approval into something scary, unsupported, and unknown?

What if?

"God is most glorified in me, when I am most satisfied in Him." -John Piper

What if?

"Praise doesn't start with us." -Louie Giglio

What if?

What if: Those are the word I utter. Not the words God utters:

Who will go?

God MUST be worshipped because He is God. He is a jealous God, deserving of an entire world's praise. The universe declares (not metaphorically, but literally DECLARES) His name. The sun, the moon, the stars, the creatures of the earth, the valleys and hills, the brooks and streams, the mountains and oceans PRAISE His name. God doesn't NEED my help. He spoke and the earth WAS. He is GOD. He is righteous. He is the only perfect thing worthy of anything and the only thing He asks of me is to worship Him. And make His name known in all the nations.

Who will go?

When you're in love with Him... You're in love with Him. You'll follow Him to the ends of the earth. Why? Because He is God. Because He is LOVE.

Who will go?

Here I am, Lord, send me. I am yours.

Amen.