Christ Our Treasure

     I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier than when we landed in the Dallas airport on July 18^th and the guy in customs asked if we were US citizens. After we nodded yes, he said with a perfect Texas drawl, “Welcome home.” I thought about kissing the ground, but knew it would cause a scene and Mark and I were both too tired for that. Instead, I quietly took my place in the line designated for citizens with a thankful heart that this was my home and I was welcome back even after being gone for almost three years.
     Living in Korea changed me more than I realized. In fact, it wasn’t until coming back to the states that I could see how God masterfully used all the struggles of living abroad to mold me into a different person. When I left America, I felt like I was losing everything….my house, friends, hometown, the comforts of living in a place that was familiar to me. But as the days spilled into weeks this summer, I’ve realized that God wanted me to leave these things behind so that I could gain a new perspective on life and experience more fully the freedom he bought for me in Christ.
     Like most everyone else in the world I long for security so that I don’t have to fear what tomorrow brings. It’s so easy to convince myself that the obsession to control and possess people and things is a necessary solution for this need for security. I reason that because every woman wants a nice home it’s okay if I make that a priority. Or because money is essential for life, it’s normal that I’m constantly focused on how much I have. But instead of the steady focus bringing comfort and helping me conquer fear it enslaves me to the things I pursue, causing me to lose passion and perspective about why I’m actually on this earth. I used to think my purpose in life was to marry a nice man, have beautiful, intelligent children, live a comfortable life and amass as much “stuff” as I could so that I could live out my final days on earth in comfort and ease. This seemed to be the way everyone else was doing life, even in the church, so I categorized it as normal and set out to make it my goal. But God had a different plan.
     When we moved to Korea, we decided to leave everything behind except for two suitcases each which we carefully packed. We arrived at our apartment to find it sparsely furnished with simple beds, a kitchen table and a couch -- no pictures, rugs, bric-a-brac, curtains. Just a bare apartment that was about one third the size of our previous home. No yard, no trees, no grass.  We did what most people would do and went out to try to find “stuff” to put in our apartment to make it home. We learned where to shop to buy “stuff” to wear and “stuff” to eat and “stuff” to decorate with. But no matter what we put there, we couldn’t deny the fact that it wasn’t what we were used to.
     There have been times when I’m cooking in our small kitchen at a counter that seems designed for midgets  or looking out over the patchwork gardens and cement houses where people are barely making ends meet that I want to shake myself, hop on a plane and run for home. But then I remember what it is that God has been slowly teaching me these past three years – that as much as I love America it’s not going to make me happy. No matter how much it comforts me to be there, he’s placed a longing in my heart for something more. The Spirit witnesses with my spirit most every day that God has a plan for my life and purposes for me that transcend the walls of a home or earthly comforts. He wants me to learn to live by faith and depend on him in an ever increasing way. Sometimes he accomplishes this through simple things, other times he takes me to a far off place where I have nothing but him and he once again reminds me about my ultimate goal – to live and move and have my being in him.
     I’m learning to say what the apostle Paul said in Romans 14:8, “If I live, I live for Christ. If I die, I die for Christ. Whether I live or whether I die, I live or die for Christ.” It often helps when I’m feeling sorry for myself or worrying about tomorrow to take it a step further and say. “If I have a home or don’t, have money or am broke, am healthy or sick, have a good or a bad job, lose all I hold dear or am blessed with much, I belong to Christ and he alone is my treasure.”
     With this focus, my thinking is realigned with God’s perspective. I’m reminded that I’ve died with Christ and am now raised up with him to live a new life in a new way with new goals and purposes (Col 3:1-11). I don’t have to strive for and fret over what’s going to happen to me because he’s guaranteed  through the blood of Christ that he’ll never leave me or forsake me (Matt 6:31).  He promises that if I seek him first he’ll give me everything I need (Matt 6:33). If I make him my treasure, I’ll be filled with joy unspeakable, a heart at peace and a purpose driven life that far exceeds anything I can strive after or achieve on my own (Ps 1:3). 
     When I do finally die one day, I don’t want to be remembered as someone who clung desperately to this life. Instead I want to be remembered as someone who really believed the Gospel and lived like it was the greatest reality in the world. I want to be able to say to God (by his grace and the power of his spirit) over and over again and mean it, “I’ll go where you want me to go, do what you want me to do, be who you want me to be because you’re my Lord and my God. You’re my treasure.”

Randy Alcorn on the Treasure Principle. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RDmS3sDFouk

Judgment Without Mercy

“For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.” Matt. 7:2

No one likes being judged. It feels rotten, especially when we look into someone’s eyes we once experienced warmth and acceptance from, only to find a cold stare instead. We can often sense this judgment without words, and it’s painful to say the least. But acting as judge over others can be habit forming as it gives us temporary comfort. We look at a person’s circumstances and the decisions they’ve made, then get out our pen and paper and begin scratching down equations that place our victim in some kind of manageable category. These judgments become the tools we use to make sense of failures and imperfections. They lull us into believing that we 'll prevail in the face of similar challenges -- if we’ll but respond differently.

I’ve been on both the giving and receiving end of merciless judgment, and I’m learning the reality of Matt. 7:2. God is teaching me just how terrible it feels to be judged so that I might repent of a lifelong pattern of sizing others up to make myself feel and look better. I realize that behind judgment is the desire to play God, to “figure his plans out”, to exalt myself and to calm anxiety over future uncertainties. If I’m able to blame the person for the mess they’ve gotten themselves into, it keeps me from fearing that I’ll end up in the same predicament.

Though I have no idea how God orchestrates it, I know he means business in fulfilling this promise: “For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged.” If I choose to show justice with no mercy, God will allow me to know similar merciless justice, not because he wants to destroy me, but because he wants me to grow and repent. I’ve spent many years blaming certain people in my life for their mistakes and feeling superior in many ways because I don’t have the same weaknesses. But God is showing me that my weaknesses, though different, are just as sinful and harmful to others.

I woke up this morning with a broken heart over my sin. This is nothing short of miraculous, since I’ve been able to hide it by focusing on the shortcomings of others. I don’t know why God decided to break through to my stony heart this morning, or why the revelation hurts so much, but I’m thankful for what he’s doing. As much as I hate looking at my sin, and as much as I want desperately to deny its reality, I want more than anything to change. I want to leave judgment to God, to put away my assessment tools and let God be the judge.

God's Unsearchable Ways

     About twenty five years ago, I drove up to a massive church building in Jackson, MS, where I began training in Evangelism Explosion. I’d been a Christian for about a year and wanted to learn how to share the Gospel with friends and family. I still remember the small perforated note cards that I tore apart, put on a ring and carried with me for the next six months. The same note cards traveled with us in various boxes and drawers through all our moves over the past eighteen years. Often, the only time I looked at them was when I was rummaging around for something else.
     Last year, I came across them again but in a uniquely different way. Since we didn’t bring any of our belongings with us when we moved to Korea, the note cards were left behind in some unmarked box in our storage room. God was giving me a newfound desire to share the Gospel with my students, so I spent time searching the internet for presentations that were in both English and Korean. That’s when I stumbled across the Evangelism Explosion website, wrote a note to someone asking for more  information and received my very first copy of the presentation in Korean!
     Just last week, as we were finishing up the semester, I pulled out my computer copy of EE and passed around the Gospel to the students in their own language. After sharing in my classes, it dawned on me that God doesn’t waste anything. The training I received so long ago and had almost forgotten became a useful tool in a country I never dreamed I’d be living in. But God knew. He knew when he led me to that first class in Mississippi that I would one day share the same message in Asia.
     I'm astounded by God's wisdom and sovereignty in orchestrating situations like these. It gives me great comfort as I look at other seemingly forgotten endeavors I’ve stuffed in a drawer somewhere. If God doesn’t waste anything, then I can count on him to use these life experiences in ways I could never have imagined.  I can trust that even though I have no idea what my future holds, I belong to a God who is able to masterfully put together bits and pieces from my past and make them into something beautiful to bless others in the present.

“Oh, how great are God's riches and wisdom and knowledge! How impossible it is for us to understand his decisions and his ways!” Rom 11:33