A Student's Take on Biblical Global Justice

Randy and I always love to hear how students think and feel about the project we're working on and we thought you might be interested also.

Recently, a student at American University contributed her thoughts to their Chi Alpha blog. She reflected on Randy's presentation when he was in D.C. at her group, sharing about Biblical Global Justice... Read it at: American University Chi Alpha blog

My favorite part is her conclusion:

"Until we learn to put others' needs above ourselves we are not righteous, and without righteousness it is impossible to have justice. So think about your passion and ask yourself, 'How does being a Christian make you live your life and passion differently?'" (taken from Alex Miller's blog post at the link above)

not enough

the past two days, i have pondered this phrase "not enough"... (while staying in this little cabin)

it's one of those phrases that haunts me much more than i want to admit:
not enough laundry done.
not enough of the house clean.
not enough money.
not enough time.
not spiritual enough.
not enough prayer.
not enough discipline.
not enough exercise.
not enough homework done.
not a good enough wife/friend/auntie/sister/student/spiritual director/etc.
not a good enough retreat/quiet time/etc.
not enough done for chi alpha.
not enough time given to my community coordinator position at fuller.
not enough phone calls made to people i love.


it just never seems like it's "enough." but, here in this beautiful little cabin, i'm reminded of the God whom i serve...

*he provided this perfect little spot for a mid-semester retreat.










*it was *free* because randy and i are ministers with our church fellowship.

*i have a husband who encourages me to take this time, a schedule that allowed for it, and a master's program that requires it from me -- all blessings!

*i was truly able to enter into the freedom of embracing myself in the places where it doesn't feel like "enough"... in the solitude and space that God so graciously provided. knowing no one and no one knowing why i was here opened a whole new world of relief from the expectations of anyone but my Jesus. and we had a lovely time. he reminded me that all these places that feel like "not enough" are okay. where he wants me to work at things or grow, i can look to him, but it really is okay (and just plain the way life is) to have areas in life where it's just not "enough".

[i was fascinated by the temperature at the bottom of the mountain reading somewhere near 80 and then finding it at least 20 degrees colder and some snow-covered spots up where i retreated. snow always brings a healthy reminder of what psalm 51 means when it says that God can purify us and make us white as snow. for this california girl, there are only so many moments in the year where this spiritual truth can be seen in such a physical way.]

Jesus wept

I'm so annoyed that my initial reaction to the above verse (John 11:35) is memories of Bible trivia as a child. Not that there's anything wrong with quizzing kids on Bible knowledge. The agitated feeling is more that a beautiful verse with such a powerful meaning, has lost its meaning to so many people... Or maybe it just lost its meaning to me until recently.

Thanks to a wonderful friend (Larry, founder of this fantastic website), I have been exercising the use of imagination in my times of prayer and Scripture.

Sitting with John 11:1-44, I found myself musing the following questions and thoughts:

*Jesus, what thoughts and feelings did you have on the long journey from the Jordan River to Bethany (where Lazarus was sick and dying)? Were you already sad even though you knew his death would be temporary?

*Even though it's so clear that you knew Lazarus' death was imminent, when you reached Mary and Martha, it must have been so hard to see their pain and sadness...


*How could you enter so deeply into their sadness and grief when you knew that you could (and would) bring him back to life? 


*Sometimes I want to run away from reality that includes pain and grief... sometimes I'd rather skip ahead to the hope, the capacity of my God to overcome, redeem and bring life... But you were able to stay in that moment to mourn with those who were mourning. Your sadness and tears were genuine and honest because you care so deeply for your friends...


*Jesus, might you weep with me and my family as we mourn the loss of family members and the end of relationships... even if there might be hope for redemption and life in the next moment. May you help me to be faithful in my presence to today and all of the moments that come this day. Amen.

'tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

I didn't take any pictures. I don't have anything "happy" necessarily to take away from his memorial service, but somehow Grandpa's memorial on Friday provided the closure my family and I needed for both his passing and my Grandma's passing. This weekend was a time of acknowledging the reality of loss -- of these dear family members, of other people in my life, of the changes of "growing up"... and more.

I'm not sure that anyone shared reflections about my Grandfather that didn't include my Grandmother. Because they were really that couple.

My cousin Saige shared a beautiful greeting and description of the tender love seen in our grandparents' marriage.

My brother Lenny gave the eulogy -- a collection of musings and reflections by my mother and aunties -- and added in his own memories of Grandpa being a significant image of a man of faith.

I had the privilege of playing the piano and singing... First, singing the old hymn, 'Tis so Sweet to Trust in Jesus with my sister Stefanie. I wish we could sing together more often because I'm always amazed at the ease with which we blend our voices and give expression to the words we sing.

And then to close the memorial service, all the girl cousins and my two nieces joined around the piano to sing Amazing Grace. We sang the same song at my Grandmother's graveside service last May and it seemed a powerful way to bring closure to remembering this couple and their time on this earth.

 

But that last verse of 'Tis so Sweet... still echoes in my heart. Maybe it's just a dream, but I seem to hear my grandparents singing those words because they really did mean it and they each lived it to the end -- 

I’m so glad I learned to trust you,
Precious Jesus, Savior, Friend;
And I know that you are with me,

Will be with me to the end.