My Stable Moment

Last month, my pastor gave a Christmas message title, “When You Follow a Star and Get a Stable,” following the journey of the wise men from the East to find the appointed Messiah that they had researched. Their guide was a simple star cast in the heavens, leading them on a journey. I am not sure what thoughts these men had as they pursued their findings. Did they believe they would find a strong warrior, dressed to call forth a mighty army to overthrow the vise of Roman oppression? Did they think they would find a commanding king, enthroned in beauty, riches and authority, to claim His kingdom from His enemies who had enslaved His people for hundreds of year?

Yet when they arrived in Jerusalem and then were sent to Bethleham, they found a simple baby, one who could not talk, could not walk, could not command release for His people. They found not a warring King but a baby who needed constant care for His welfare. The site of his appearance was not a majestic palace or wealthy house, but a simple, quiet and stinky stable. They followed a star with high dreams and hopes of what may be, but at the end of that journey, they only found a simple stable. The thought my pastor presented was this: how often do we follow God’s star, with high hopes and expectations for prosperity and favor only to find a simple, lonely, stinky stable at the end.

The past three weeks have been a major stable moment for my parents and me. What else could it be? Eight years ago, my parents purchased a home that they believed would be the final home of their lives. They had such hopes for this house. A few years ago I joined them in calling this house my home, so the events that have occurred I claim as my own. The events resonate deeply in me just as it does with my parents. They cut deep. They hurt. They confused me. They brought a fog into my life. They raised questions. They caused a journey I did not choose. Yet they happened anyway.

For the past five months, my parents have been battling the bank in regards to their mortgage. A decision that was unilaterally made by the bank has wrecked havoc on our lives. A decision that may seem so simple on a paper cause tidal waves of issues in us. A decision that had no options of recovery was prolonged through empty promises, constant confusing information, and no human contact. Until, the final letter was delivered. And we were forced to see our stable.

Coming home after a wonderful Christmas holiday, we were riding the emotions of that week. I had barely unpacked my suitcase and was settling back into my room, when my mother walked in my room, holding a piece a paper, and with tears in her eyes, she stated, “It’s over. We have lost our home.” The bank was choosing foreclosure. Our stable was looking gloomy, and I did not want to be there. All I could do was cry a simple call,” God help us!”

Two days after this letter was read, I researched house rentals in my town. I found a website and took a look at this one house. After looking at the pictures, I ran downstairs and told my parents that I had found our new house. Dad went online and filled out the rental agreement. Granted, I really was only doing this to cheer everyone up, to give my parents a bit of good news that we had options in this tough time.

Our stable stunk. It was not fun. We did not like it. The stable wore at our love and patience for each other. I had no idea if we could even get this house. I just wanted to give a bit of hope. Yet in that moment, something showed up. Something maybe a bit dim at the time, but it showed up anyway. Now comes our star. Our new journey.

Within one week, my parents were approved for the house. One week after that we moved into the new house, site unseen. My father found a moving company that moved us in six hours and saved us money in the process. This new home is beautiful and amazing. Financially, it is a huge blessing. We are truly blessed to have found this home. We truly believe that all that has occurred was no shock to God. He walked with us the entire time. I am also walking in the understanding that this event has a greater design than just this house. I do not know what tomorrow may bring, but I know that God has greater plans for my family that probably could not exist with the other house. He needed my family where they are.

Thinking back on my pastor’s message, I remember him stating that in the stable, I can find Jesus. And it is true. Even if the wise men expected a palace, they were not looking for a building. They were looking for a person, a messiah. They still found him. In our stable, I found Jesus once again. I found His light and peace to face this stinging rejection. I rediscovered His faithfulness and provision. I found Him waiting for me to just rest with him. This time has been uncomfortable but restful. The great news, my stable is not the end. It is just a stop. Now we have a new star. A new journey. And I am ready to take a step forward.

And the journey continues...

I feel as if I am in a time warp at the moment. I could turn back the calendar a few years, and the picture would be the same. Here I am, living in the Central Valley of a state I vowed to never live in, and I am jobless. I surf the website for any job listings and network opportunities. My hand gets a nice workout with all the applications I fill out. And I wait, wait for the phone to ring for a job interview that may lead to a job.

The picture is the same; well, almost the same. The differences are subtle but they are there. Instead of waiting for the official acceptance for graduate school, I am now waiting on the official word for a full-time position. Instead of finding a church home, I find myself delving back into the church I left. Instead of being a new face, I have friends here. And yet, two years have past, and the journey seems almost the same, as if no time has passed at all. It all boils down to this one thing. A word I often times say with an ease, but I find myself struggling with at the moment. A word that lays a foundation to the very essence of my life's journey. A simple, yet complex word. And that is faith.

Faith. A simple word.
Faith. A complex word to live.
Faith. It pushes against the anxiety that wants to cripple me.
Faith. It begs for me to hold onto the peace that wants to cover me.
Faith. It reaches for empty, open hands.
Faith. It calls for willing trust.
Faith. It cries for forward steps.
Faith. It speaks to the unknown.
Faith. It sustains when weakness builds.

So, same picture, different time. Same faith, different faith. One based on the same One from before, but a faith grown from that last picture. So, I step.

The Blowing Storm.

It is an interesting title despite the fact the days have been quite sunny with very little cloud coverage. Rain has become a memory as the season has progressed into the summer heat of southern California. But my mind has focused on another storm. One I read about from time to time. A storm where faith or vision was tested.

The night was dark as the storm clouds erased all signs of heavenly lights. The wind whipped the boat through the choppy waters beneath its floor. The men are frantic in their attempt to guide the ship to shore, safely and securely. Yet the driving rain slashes at their faces and hands; the wind whistles around their ears. The hearts are dropping in fear while adrenaline pushes them to attempt a landing, not caring which shore. They just want land.

In the midst of the pressing storm, a vision is seen across the waging waves. The men blinked their eyes in disbelief, wondering if they were reaching the point of exhaustion and delirium. They could barely contain the truth what their eyes saw, a man walking on the surface of the water. He was steady and straight. The waves did not harm him.

One of the men in the boat called out in a hopeful voice as his mind grasped the truth of the man's identity. The man was Jesus. With faith that is beyond comprehension, he called out to him, asking this man for permission to come to him. Jesus told him to come and without hesitation in the midst of the storm, Peter took his steps to His Lord.

The wind whipped all around him, tearing at his clothes. The rain continued to slash at his face and body as Peter stepped forward again and again. The storm raged on, but Peter had eyes fixed on one sight. His Lord. His Savior. His Messiah.

Lately, my mind has been wrapped around the concept of the storm that raged that night of Peter's step of faith. No matter how many times I have read that passage, I still have yet to read that Jesus calmed that storm. No, despite Peter's faith to walk to the Lord, the storm raged on in the midst of this journey. Peter hardly noticed the storm until he took his eyes of Jesus. Then he saw the storm. And he was overwhelmed. His eyes left Jesus and only saw the storm.

Sometimes I think about my life. So many ups and downs. Some calm days and some stormy days. The calm days are easy. The stormy ones can wan my strength and courage. Many times the storm continues to rage, day after day without relief in sight. Then some days the storms are gone, or they just seem like they are. I look back on those days and realize that the storms had not diminished in their raging. I just fixed my focus on another sight. On another source of strength.

I am discovering that when I place my faith in Christ and take the step towards him, He does not always calm the storms of my circumstances. Sometimes, those storms rage on with might and power, doing everything it can to knock me down. No, I look back on those days and realize that the storm Jesus calmed was the one inside me. The peace came to my fearful heart and anxious mind. The peace steadied me to continue my walk towards Jesus. The storms still raged at times, but the storms were not in me.

I did not fall off the planet.

Although, it may seem like I have. Since I just finished my Winter quarter and have a short break until the Spring quarter, I thought I would catch everyone up. For those of you who do not get to see me on a regular basis, a.k.a my fellow Fuller students, this note is for you.

I did not disappear from the face of the earth. I landed in a small section of the world called seminary. The past seven months have been quite a whirlwind of adaptation and new experiences as I delved back into the world of academia. I have been out of school for awhile so the learning curve of papers, quizzes and tests took me a while to find a rhythm to my school work. Ten weeks is definitely a short amount of time to learn so much information.

So now I have just finished my finals for the Winter quarter and I am rejoicing that I am done! Although I did contract the epidemic of the Hand Cramp after many hours of feverish writing to complete two finals. Luckily, the epidemic did not last long as the muscles in my fingers finally began to relax. I now have full use of my hand. YEAH!

The last several days have been interesting as I prepped my mind for the forthcoming finals. The two I had were Psychopathology and OT Writings. At one point, I thought those two were such a weird combination to be stuffing my brain with criteria and notes that for a moment I was DID. For those of you outside the cohort, that means Dissociative Identity Disorder, formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder. So here I am a psychology student dividing my mind into theology. Two distinct personalities gaining control with full awareness yet I began to wonder if I could actually meld the two together, integrating them into one whole person as I was learning in Integration. (FYI – I am having fun with a play-on-words with my classes from the past quarter.)

So now, I have ten days with no classes, no tests, no quizzes, no reading assignments. What am I going to do? HAVE FUN!!! ENJOY THE SUN!!! Before I delve into the endless pit of academia once again only to emerge within eleven weeks, blinking my eyes at the wonder of the world beyond seminary.

I will definitely try to keep things up this time around.

Rooftop Party.

Last Friday night was a night of pure fun. I was told about this event from current students and was highly persuaded to attend this event. I am so glad I did. What event? The annual Fuller Rooftop Party. I was not sure what to expect for the night but it was a blast.

Just a few minute’s walk from my apartment, the site of this historic event existed. It did not take long for the sound of the bass to permeate the night air. I reached the stairs that lead to the rooftop. With each step, the music got louder and louder, inviting me to continue my climb up the stairs. The view from the top was spectacular. A night full of blinking stars, the glow from the night lights, and the outlines of the city outside.

At first it seemed like no one would show but then we all like to be fashionably late. By 8 pm, the rooftop was hoping, literally, with students from all schools at Fuller. Laughter was flowing all around. Smiles were spread upon every face. And the bass was pumping. Old favorites from the good ole days of high school busted from the speakers as MC Hammer, Michael Jackson, and other such names kept the feet pounding and the bodies dancing. Cheese and chocolate fondu mixed with Italian Sodas made the night a complete success. Now if only this event could be more than just once a year….

Orientation Week.

It is Friday night and the evening is somewhat late. I am relaxing at my computer after one full week of meetings, activities and new friends. This past week marked the opening to this new stage of my life; it was orientation week at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena. It was an amazing week and I was so impressed with the layout of the week and the welcome that new students received as we moved forward towards the beginning of our new life.

One great thing about the week was FREE FOOD! When you are waiting for the extra money to hit your bank account, free food is a great thing! This is what my week entailed: game night, round table discussions with faculty, lunch with faculty, dinner with the MFT cohort, pizza with the 2nd year MFT's, integration panel discussion, Diversity brunch and another BBQ with our All Seminary Council and concert on the campus lawn. That does not even begin include all the awesome people I have met each day. My cohort alone is 55 people and I still have two other schools to get to know people.

Being here at Fuller already has been an awesome experience and I am more than blessed with the people I have met. I am definitely worn out from all the activities and my brain is quite muddled with faces and names. So I am really ready to begin my classes which start Tuesday.

Ask me in five or six weeks if I feel the same...hahaha

Fireproof (Theatrical Trailer)

Coming soon...must see!