On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, “Let us go across to the other side.” And leaving the crowd, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. And other boats were with him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling. But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion. And they woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?” And they were filled with great fear and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mark 4:35-41 ESV).

Read this story at a time when I needed to. I needed ti be reminded that God will do what is good in His sight and worrying about it is often a form of mistrust. So with whatever storm you are in or can see in the horizon, don’t worry about it. Cling firm in your faith in Jesus and His promise to look after you and do what’s best for you.

kelswarren:

Tonight was our first oikos meeting in the Town Center community of Virginia Beach. Oikos is a group through Coastal Community Church and it is the Greek word for “family”. Through this family, we are going to eat in, pray for, serve, and play in the Town Center area. Tonight was a “taster”, or in…

Our God is an awesome God.

thecovenantblog:

And He said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s house.” -Luke 2:49

It’s easy for people who are close to Jesus to sometimes forget His nature. We confuse His ways and priorities with ours and then question when we don’t find Him where we thought we might. As long as we are truly seeking Him with our hearts, Christ reminds us with a gentle steady voice. He is clear in the Bible that He can be found in His father’s house about His father’s business. So if you are seeking Him this morning, clear your heart and your head and see who is waiting for you.

Home is where the heart is

” The mark of an immature man  is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one. ” -   Wilhelm Stekel

I often find the man in me juxtaposed to the Holy Spirit in me. The man in me wants to conquer a mountain and shout my name from the top of it. It wants to shout my glory for the world to hear. The man in me wants to fight all who oppose my pride, and overpower the world through violence. 

The scripture warns us against violence though. During the great flood God specifically mentions how violent and wicked the world had become and how it grieved Him to His heart. Then during the sermon on the mount, Jesus explains that emotional crimes against people are just as grievous to God. He warns us that the anger in our minds is just as poisonous and destructive to ourselves and others. Jesus is clear that it is sin, and it separates us from God.  The above scripture serves as a reminder to me when I am faced with gossip, anger, dissension, and lust. It is a line in the sand that forces me to evaluate which side of it I am on, and decide which side I want to be on.

Luckily our God is eternally more patient than we are, and eternally more forgiving. He is also gracious enough to promise the fruits of His Spirit to those who seek it so that we can better reflect Him in our daily lives. Through His strength the measure we use for others can be closer to the measure God uses for us.So my prayer for today is that the Lord would pour out His peace into us so that we may be called sons of God. 

thecovenantblog:

Surely there is a future, and your hope will not be cut off -Psalm 23:18.

Also…

Don’t let a bad day convince you you have a bad life.

The following is a short story that I wrote this week. I would enjoy constructive criticism if you have the time and patience.

Flood

One

This story is about true love and the ocean.

At age nine I learned how to swim. Before that day all my body knew how to do was sink, which proved itself to be a problem. After that day it seemed like all my body knew how to do was float, which also proved to be a problem.

Now I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. Well actually you may not be wrong, I just may be wrong about what you are thinking. But if you were thinking that floating can never be a problem then… you are wrong.

 You are wrong because once you can swim underwater and not be terrified of drowning there is an enchanted world of wet things to be explored. It’s a new plane full of untold opportunities and danger, excitement and occasions. Now I will admit that floating can keep you alive if you can’t swim (and that is commendable) but once you can swim… it just holds you back. Floating is to swimming as gravity is to flying. It’s an anchor that pulls you towards mediocrity. It holds you down, holds you up, and holds you back.

My life was held back until I turned eighteen. Then on my birthday I got my wish, it rained.

Two

I was always told that if you make a wish and blow out your candles and never tell anyone, then your wish would come true. I always believed this because ever since I can remember I would wish for sweetly delicious birthday cake, and every year my humble wish was granted.

This year I asked for something different. This year I asked for it to flood. I asked for it to rain, and to pour, and to burst water out of the bowels of the earth. It took eighteen years of mediocre cake for me to have had enough. Then before I could blow out all my candles I felt the first raindrops on my face.

I should probably take this time to clear up a few things. It’s important to note that I don’t believe in magic, or mother earth. I do believe in love and the one true God, and on my eighteenth birthday I asked Him to flood the world. I pleaded with him from my insides out to cleanse the world and wipe out every other person except for the one that was meant for me… my true love.

It is also important to note that God doesn’t generally deal in such volatile measures, but today was different. Maybe it was because the world was dirty and needed to be dynamically cleaned, or maybe it was because I was hopeless and needed to be dynamically inspired. In the end I can’t explain what happened or why. All I know is that it began to rain. Within a day I was very alone, but felt very alive.

Three

 I remember that day clearly. The clouds were thick and oppressive. They thundered like gigantic horses trampling across the sky, crashing around the Earth, breaking down the pillars of heaven that supported the ceiling of rain. Then without warning, without understanding, it collapsed and a world of people were crushed. They were crushed by water and by the acceptance of their mediocre lives.

God had demanded from us a life of fulfillment. Instead they choose to float by. At first they were all floating, but one by one they sank in the flood. They sank in the challenge and the sea. As I saw them disappear I started to sink as well. I questioned my choice, and I questioned my hope in love. I was sinking in the reality of my decision and going under. I held my breath, closed my eyes, and felt the water rush over my face and into my ears. 

The thing about being underwater is the calm. No matter the storm on the surface and the crashing waves, underneath the sea it’s calm. It’s overwhelming but peaceful. That kind of peace is not a kind that is not easily forgotten.  It’s a peace that is stronger than you, and one that can’t be changed… just accepted. I accepted the magnitude of the flood and the fact that I was sinking down and I began to swim up. I reached my hand out of the plane of serenity and back into the cold air. I grabbed hold of something on the surface and pulled myself up.  Out of the sea of death, I found myself reborn on a small raft.  My lungs still worked, my heart still beat, and it was still raining.

The raft was enough. It was me and a piece of wood against the world. I felt confident again because when I had climbed out of the water I left my doubt in the ocean. It was stripped from me by the waves, and sank down into the depths like a stone. I clung onto the raft and stared into the distance. I couldn’t see the sunlight through the clouds yet, but I knew it was there. I knew that even though I was drenched the rain would end, and that even though I felt alone I wasn’t. I named my raft “Lamech” and I paddled toward the horizon.

Four

If you’ve never been in the middle of the ocean then it is a safe bet that you have a misconception about how big the world is, or at least a misconception about how big your role in the world is. The ocean is the biggest thing I’ve ever felt, and it left me feeling like a piece of sand that had lost the shore.

I had become a pioneer pebble, a pilgrim grain. I had left the shores of what I knew and was now in the midst of the unknown. I didn’t know where I was, or what direction I was headed in, but I was not lost. I felt then and still feel now, that where you are is not as critical as where you will end up. I knew where I would end up. Like the pilgrims who came before me I was destined for the New World.

The sun was breaking over the horizon now and pierced through what was left of the dark clouds. Sunrises had always inspired me. You can go out of your way to put trees, houses, or even mountains in front of your view, but it’s inevitable. It’s going to be beautiful. No matter the obstacle the Sun will overcome your obstruction and blind you with so many shades of purple, reds, and oranges that you can’t help but appreciate the new day.

That first sunrise after the flood wasn’t any different. It was beautiful, I was inspired, and I’m telling you this so that you will be to. If you are not then wait until tomorrow morning and read this again at sunrise. There is no shame in letting the sun fight his own battles; in fact, I’ve found that in matters pertaining to him he is far more convincing than I will ever be.

Five

If I told you that fish was my favorite meal, then I would be a lair. If I told you that I loved the act of catching fish, and tedious task of de-scaling them, and that the satisfaction of all my hard work made the meal taste better… then I would be an elaborate liar. The truth is I don’t like fish. They don’t taste that good, and are devoid of charm. However, when you are in the middle of the ocean, you learn to give thanks for this manna from heaven.

That first day while fishing, I heard an audible voice. I don’t know if the voice came from the sky, from under the water, or inside my head. All I know is that I heard the voice of God call me by name, and tell me to become a fisher of men.

Terrified and amazed I quickly asked whom it was that was talking to me. The voice boomed that I knew who it was and warned me to stop trying to convince myself that I didn’t. I asked why He would want me to fish dead men out of the sea, and He answered that while most men were dead, some were just dying.  

Finally, I asked why He would want me to try to savethe people that He had condemned. He thundered that His will was pure and strong, and that my view was jaded and impotent. He thundered so that I would fear Him and obey. Then He whispered that all men (even me) were loved, and that the sea had washed us. He said this softly to me so that I would know that it was true. Then it was quiet again, and I became a fisher of men.

Six

Now I found myself with purpose and duty. My purpose was to find my true love, and my duty was to save dying people. When I first started this task I was clumsy and ill equipped. In the beginning I would scoop them out of the water like logs, and in no time my raft was so full of the dead that there was no room for the living. Often I would pull somebody up who was so afraid of the raft and so angry about the flood that they would just thrash about, and try to take as many of us back into the water with them as they could. I would fight them and force them. I would try to overcome their resistance and pull them on raft the way a fisherman fights with a marlin. In the end I realized that I was causing more harm than good, and slowly I learned to let them go.

I learned that from so far away, I could not tell the dead people from the dying. I could not tell the people who wanted to be saved from those who would fight my efforts. It was then I learned that I needed to leave the safety of the raft and swim out to the bodies. I needed to meet them in the water and explain to them the truth about what had happened to the world, and what was happening now. Even in the water I found that most were unable to be saved or unwilling.

The raft filled up quickly with those that wanted to be alive. The raft filled up but was never too full. We learned to live together and work together. We shared our meals, and we shared our work. I found comfort in their companionship, but I had not found my true love.

Seven

I can’t say how long we carried on in this way. It is hard to keep track of time when you are distracted by focus. Our memories are broken up by significant events that categorize our lives into seasons of splendor or struggle, happiness or hardship. The last significant memory I have is of our last day on the raft.

 That day I woke up into a thick fog. As I stumbled around the raft I realized that I was alone again. Everyone I had come to know was gone again. Then as my mind accepted the revelation, the fog began to lift and I could see land. The raft was drifting in shallows of the shore and land was close enough to feel real again.

 This was too much for me. I became frantic and hysterical. I ran to the edge of the raft and screamed into the sky that I didn’t understand! I pleaded to God to tell me what was going on. He had promised me my true love! I asked why He had taken me away from the land just to bring me back. What was the point I demanded!

 As if He were waiting for my questions, a steady voice rode in on the breeze. It told me that my loved ones had gone ashore and that I was meant to go as well. He said that people were from the land and to the land they had to return.

 I could not accept it. I refused. I screamed back into the breeze that He had promised me my love, and that I was not going to land without her.  Then frantically I ran to the other end of the raft and jumped into the water. I began to push it back out to sea away from the shore. I climbed back on and began to paddle frantically ignoring God’s protest. I clawed at the water until the land was no longer in sight.

 Then I climbed back to my feet and shouted to God that I needed to be complete, I needed to be whole. Finally I shouted that I needed my true love, and I was willing to fight for it. Then I heard the thunder again, loud and haunting like the day the sky fell. I immediately felt the rain pelt my face. It’s drops were so thick that it blocked out my vision. I saw the clouds swirl and water surge. Terrified, I fell to my face and clung to the raft. I heard God’s voice roar like I had never before. He blasted that He had made the ocean and the land, the stars and the sky! That He had created me and created the raft that had been, and still was my salvation! He boomed that He was my true love and that He would fight for me.

 The wind wailed and the rain pierced. The waves swelled higher than they ever had and lifted the raft into the sky and back down to the sea. The sky was black and consuming, lighted only momentarily by cracks of lighting. Where the sky ended and the ocean began became indistinguishable. I clung to the raft as the world was turned upside down.

Then there was black.

Then there was silence.

The world had collapsed around me and I felt the calm again. It was like the calm I felt when being submerged underwater. This calm was different though; it didn’t come from the outside. It came from feeling saturated on the inside. It was the feeling of being completely filled, and completely whole.  I had been consumed by the sea of God’s passion and it had flooded my soul. The world had melted away, and I was no longer at war with it.  I had found my peace. I had found my true love.

The black subsided, and I was bathed in light. I found myself lying on shore face up in the sand. I was from the land, and to the land I had returned. The sun was on the rise. It was beautiful… and I was inspired.

Eight

They say the perfect number is seven, and that is precisely why this story has eight chapters. It is not perfect and neither am I.  I would tell you that you are not either, but I do not know you. I will leave that judgment for someone who does. I am not a judge, a sailor, or even a fisherman. I am a writer, and I write about what I love.

This is a story about true love, and the ocean. 

thecovenantblog:

This is the account of Noah and his family. Noah was a righteous man, blameless among the people of his time, and he walked faithfully with God.     - Genesis 6:9

One day everything Noah knew as normal changed. His world folded in around him and the flood waters began to rise. Noah was able to keep his head above water because of his relationship with God, and because of God’s faithfulness.

Today when my wife left town, I started to feel overwhelmed. I felt myself sinking into anxiety and self pity as I thought about the person I rely on most becoming unavailable. I am favored in this life though. Like Noah, I follow a faithful God. Before I went under He reminded me that He is who I rely on most. Through strength found in a relationship with Him, anything can be conquered and peace will be had. He reigns over our marriages, finances, loved ones, and everything else. So if you feel like you are starting to go under, call to God and He will answer. 

(via themattbruns)

⁷ Be patient, then, brothers and sisters, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop, patiently waiting for the autumn and spring rains. ⁸ You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord’s coming is near. ⁹ Don’t grumble against one another, brothers and sisters, or you will be judged. The Judge is standing at the door!  - James 5:7-9

My church has been weighing heavy on my heart and my mind.  A part of me wants to take all of it’s problems onto myself and fix them. A part of my wants to leave it and start fresh. A part wonders if everything is fine and it’s all in my mind, and then there is the part of me that realizes it doesn’t know anything about anything and should bring these issues to God instead of myself.

So that is what I did. I parked in front of Suburban and just sort of stared at it while talking to God. During a short time I was given an absurd amount of peace. Within a few short minutes God gave me relief from the struggle I have been having with Him and with myself. I felt like Jacob after he finished wrestling with the man from Heaven. Tired, but relieved.

 Recently I was told the best advice about starting a church is to make sure you are really called to do it. And the truth is that right now I don’t feel that call, so to leave my church family when not seeking God’s will would be to leave to seek my own will. In a normal family that is abandonment and that is selfish. That would mean giving up on people whom I love and love me, and giving up on people who a lot of the world has already given up on. I remembered what that feeling of a “church family” meant to me earlier in my life, and I was shown that it still means just as much to me now even though I have started my own family. I don’t mean to say that anybody who leaves is in the wrong, because it is not my place to question what God is saying to them. In fact that is just another part of trusting the Lord I have come to be acquainted with. I have learned to trust in His seasons and trust in those who work in His will.

God also showed me that by trying to take on the churches issues thinking I could fix them, I was belittling what Christ took onto Himself for the love of His bride. The church is His bride. He is the Bridegroom and He will sanctify her until she is holy and white, love her unconditionally, and present her needs above His own. In return we shall adorn Christ with Glory and praise, and reflect the love that He has radiated onto us. For the season I am in, doing this means sticking around. I don’t expect the same of you, I just expect that you follow wherever the Holy Spirt leads you. To that I say Good luck and God speed you good traveler. 

My Father Bleeds History is the name of book written about a Holocaust Survivor. It is told from the son’s perspective and is a stirring tale. It also has nothing to do with what I am about to write. I just saw the name and began to think about my dad and the history I have with him. The history that he wrote for me also involves pain. He collapsed a marriage with my mother, continued to be a lame dad, and in turn left a wake of displacement in my life. It took me a long time to forgive him of this and I have just only recently over the past couple years been taking steps towards reconciliation. 

This week in the high school LifeGroup we were reading John 19, which talks about Christ’s trial and crucifixion. The main characters in the account are Jesus, the Jews who betrayed him, and Pilate.  Through the account we see the struggle between Jews trying to have Jesus condemned and Pilate trying to dissuade them.  In the end he doesn’t though, in the end Pilate gives in and condemns Jesus. What the bible says though is that he was not in control of Jesus dying, neither were the Jews,  or me , or you for that matter. God was in control of Jesus sacrifice. Nobody took His life away from Him, but he laid it down.  It is hard at first to accept that something so hard and so painful was in God’s plan, but once you do accept it  there is peace  in it.  There is peace in the idea that God can work good through bad, peace through pain, and His graceful will through the schemes of men.

My father bleeds history, he has hurt the people he was designed to love… but so have I.  I am just as much as a sinner as him and have done my own share of hurting over the years, and I need just as much love. I am also required to forgive and love others, and need just as much God in my life as anybody else in order to do it.  I am no different than Pilate, or the Jews, or my dad. We all have blood on our hands. My history bleeds, and I bleed history. Our history bleeds with Christ two thousand years ago and is still flowing over us today.  I am thankful for His forgiveness and thankful for the people who have been willing to forgive me. I am also thankful for the course my life has taken. Some times have been harder than others, but all of it has been part of God’ s plan to draw me closer to Him and to bring Him more Glory. My prayer is that He continues to do this work in all of us.