You know I've really been thinking that Jesus has feelings similar to ours. Though He is Lord and all powerful, is it crazy to think that He still cries for us?
A couple Sundays back, church dismissed so my husband and I headed to the kids church to pick up our two babies. The way it works to leave them in kids church while we are in the sanctuary is you sign in your child on an assigned grade & colored sheet, they place that same colored sticker with their name on it on their back. Anyhow, I had signed in "Addie Vanover" but on her sticker she wore I had written, Adalie.
It was my turn in line eso I approached the desk and said, "Hi, I'm here to pick up Maddox and Addie" I almost immediately saw my little chunky baby, Maddox, but no Addie. We waited for a minute, then the lady at the front desk looked behind her and said "Addie" to a helper keeping the children. She smiled at us, but looked a little confused so I opened the door to the front without permission and went to find my daughter in the class I knew she belonged. I opened the door and saw sweet faces, but not of my Addie. My heart started pounding, my hands started sweating as I started walking backwards in panic thinking I know that's where she goes. I turned and asked asked the front desk, "Addie, where's Addie?!" Tears were building quickly at this point. She looked at me in complete distress, then called the helper that had her in class. "Addie, where is Addie?" "She's already been picked up, she left completely happy with the couple who got her" a voice said. "WHAT?" I could not believe what I was hearing. Visions flooded into my mind of my child being in a random vehicle, taken.
I remember I could hear Stephen very faintly in the background telling me to calm down and that we'd find her BUT where is she is all I could think of, she's lost, where is my Addie. Gigantic tears blurred my eyes, but I saw people rushing around asking "Addie, where is Addie she in this class" Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a curly haired little girl say "Momma." I ran immediately to her it was Addie. I picked her, she through her legs around my waist and I held her head close to my neck. I was trembling like I've never experienced. It was the most horrid, awful feeling and I never put her down or quit crying for what seemed like eternity.
Come to find out she had been switched to another classroom after I had left and the classroom I thought she was in there was another little girl named "Addie". My Addie had "Adalie" on her sticker so it was all just a mix up.
We walked out to the truck, I calmed down, buckled her in and just sat silently in the passenger side. I internally gave thanks to God that Adalie was safe and in our vehicle and not in someone elses. As we drove down the highway some sort of scene played in my mind. This picture or thought rather, was of Jesus. I saw Jesus standing in a room looking around with such a sad look on His face. A look of despair, a look of disappointment much like how I looked I'm sure and I wondered.... is that how you feel Jesus when one of your children get sucked back into this world and leave you? Maybe just maybe Jesus wanted to share with me just a little of what it feels like to lose a child? I teared up again and not because of Adalie, but because it hurt me to think of all the times I've gotten lazy or lost sight of the mission He's called us to.
Now, I understand God is omnipresent, He is everywhere and is supernatural. I am human and am limited to where I can be so of course Jesus knows where His children are physically, but what I am meaning is that I connected with Him on the feelings He must feel. This was the only time I had ever experienced anything like losing Adalie, so when I think of Jesus and how He must feel everyday, it really humbles me and makes me want to seek the lost even more. I know if Maddox was older and had an understanding of what was going on, he would have started helping me look to find Addie. He wouldn't have just stood there, so it all made sense to me, and reminded me that I (we) should not forget to seek out our brothers and sisters.
I mentioned that I thought Jesus had feelings, well biblically I am reminded of "we are created in His image" (Genesis 1:27) and in John 11:35 it states that "Jesus wept" over the death of Lazarus and so what's my point? Well, my point is what would it look like if everyday we woke up with a new perspective of His feelings? What if we woke up eager to find our brothers, sisters and all those who He is weeping for...
In Him,
Est
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The Matatu Flipped.
After eating supper I sat on the couch to relax for the evening, but my husband couldn't wait to get me to read what he read earlier in the day. Well after reading it, I understood why. This is called The Matatu Flipped By Palmer Chinchen
“I don’t want to miss my flight.”
If I’m honest, that was my very first thought when I watched the matatu (Kenyan passenger minivan) crammed with seventeen or eighteen people get hit, flip, and roll onto its roof, which collapsed.
Sociologists call it the phenomenon of noninvolvement. Researchers have found that bystanders often have this odd tendency not to respond to someone in dire need. Sometimes it’s out of fear, sometimes it’s simply stage fright—the worst is when people do nothing because they think it’s somebody else’s problem.
We can spend a lifetime living that way. “What you do matters.”
When I saw the matatu flip, that was my second thought: Palmer, you keep telling people that what they do matters! Too often we think what we do or how we live doesn’t matter. We think it doesn’t matter when we spend $348 on True Religion designer jeans. We think it doesn’t matter when a church in Dallas is spending 115 million dollars on their new building.
It matters…
because the way you live every day is a picture of your soul.
So I urgently yelled to my Nairobi taxi driver, “Stop!” He jumped out with me and ran to the crumpled van and began easing people over the shattered glass. Within just a few minutes everyone was out, and miraculously no one appeared seriously injured.Just when I started to think, “Bravo, Palmer—see, good thing you stopped,” my driver shouted, “They’re killing the other driver!” I spun around to see an angry mob stoning and beating the driver who had hit the matatu … to death. “Sometimes you must act in order to stop the very worst things from happening.”
That was the heart of my message in twenty-three cities last fall, when I was the speaker on the Hungry for Love tour with Sanctus Real, Leeland, and The Afters. “You must act!” We keep thinking somebody else will, but Christ left this work of the kingdom to you! There’s two lives to be lived. One is the life you live every day. The life that many times ends up becoming a tired rut sapping you of every last ounce of creative passion. But then there’s the life you dream of living. That’s the second life. For many it’s the life-unlived.
So I write this today to inspire you, to challenge you to abandon your comfortable routine and discover the exhilarating life God has waiting for you.
Back to Kenya: Without thinking, I sprinted toward the mob. They call it mob justice in east Africa. But it’s not just; it’s sick vigilantism. I knew without a doubt they would kill him if I didn’t act.
When the matatu flips, you must act.
After visiting dozens of churches on the Hungry for Love Tour I came home discouraged. Generation-excess has moved into the suburban church. In one large church the pastor proudly stated, “We just spent a million dollars on this sound system!”
I about choked. What in the world are we doing spending a million dollars on a sound system? And why do so many churches need I-Mag (Image Magnification). That’s the awesome technology that projects a really big picture of your preacher on a screen.
Here’s the simple truth we miss: just because we can … doesn’t mean we should. I say all this because the church’s focus must turn out. We’ve focus far too much of our effort and resource inward.
How will we ever rebuild countries like Haiti, or stop the spread of malaria in Africa, or free girls from sex-slavery in Thailand if we keep building kingdoms on street corners in the suburbs – instead of taking the Kingdom of God to the world.
The matatu’s flipped.
One Life Matters
Forcing my way to the middle of the raging mob, I dropped to my hands and knees over the man’s head, thinking, At least they’ll have to hit me first.
“Stop, stop! Please stop!” I yelled.
“Get out of the way—we want to kill him!” the angry young men shouted back.
“No,” I answered loudly but calmly as I looked up. “Nobody’s going to die here today.”
As they slowly dropped their stones and backed away, I helped the beaten man sit up, then carefully pulled him to his feet and brought him to the rear bumper of his van, where we sat until the mob was gone.
What I’m not saying is that Palmer Chinchen is a hero. I’m not. I simply try to live the way I tell others that Jesus told us to live—like your life matters. What you do matters.
So let’s stop being so self-indulgent and stop growing inwardly focused churches, and realize that God can use your life—your church—to change what is messed up out there.
You see, if I wait, if I don’t act—if you wait, if you don’t act—the man on the side of the road dies … literally.
“I don’t want to miss my flight.”
If I’m honest, that was my very first thought when I watched the matatu (Kenyan passenger minivan) crammed with seventeen or eighteen people get hit, flip, and roll onto its roof, which collapsed.
Sociologists call it the phenomenon of noninvolvement. Researchers have found that bystanders often have this odd tendency not to respond to someone in dire need. Sometimes it’s out of fear, sometimes it’s simply stage fright—the worst is when people do nothing because they think it’s somebody else’s problem.
We can spend a lifetime living that way. “What you do matters.”
When I saw the matatu flip, that was my second thought: Palmer, you keep telling people that what they do matters! Too often we think what we do or how we live doesn’t matter. We think it doesn’t matter when we spend $348 on True Religion designer jeans. We think it doesn’t matter when a church in Dallas is spending 115 million dollars on their new building.
It matters…
because the way you live every day is a picture of your soul.
So I urgently yelled to my Nairobi taxi driver, “Stop!” He jumped out with me and ran to the crumpled van and began easing people over the shattered glass. Within just a few minutes everyone was out, and miraculously no one appeared seriously injured.Just when I started to think, “Bravo, Palmer—see, good thing you stopped,” my driver shouted, “They’re killing the other driver!” I spun around to see an angry mob stoning and beating the driver who had hit the matatu … to death. “Sometimes you must act in order to stop the very worst things from happening.”
That was the heart of my message in twenty-three cities last fall, when I was the speaker on the Hungry for Love tour with Sanctus Real, Leeland, and The Afters. “You must act!” We keep thinking somebody else will, but Christ left this work of the kingdom to you! There’s two lives to be lived. One is the life you live every day. The life that many times ends up becoming a tired rut sapping you of every last ounce of creative passion. But then there’s the life you dream of living. That’s the second life. For many it’s the life-unlived.
So I write this today to inspire you, to challenge you to abandon your comfortable routine and discover the exhilarating life God has waiting for you.
Back to Kenya: Without thinking, I sprinted toward the mob. They call it mob justice in east Africa. But it’s not just; it’s sick vigilantism. I knew without a doubt they would kill him if I didn’t act.
When the matatu flips, you must act.
After visiting dozens of churches on the Hungry for Love Tour I came home discouraged. Generation-excess has moved into the suburban church. In one large church the pastor proudly stated, “We just spent a million dollars on this sound system!”
I about choked. What in the world are we doing spending a million dollars on a sound system? And why do so many churches need I-Mag (Image Magnification). That’s the awesome technology that projects a really big picture of your preacher on a screen.
Here’s the simple truth we miss: just because we can … doesn’t mean we should. I say all this because the church’s focus must turn out. We’ve focus far too much of our effort and resource inward.
How will we ever rebuild countries like Haiti, or stop the spread of malaria in Africa, or free girls from sex-slavery in Thailand if we keep building kingdoms on street corners in the suburbs – instead of taking the Kingdom of God to the world.
The matatu’s flipped.
One Life Matters
Forcing my way to the middle of the raging mob, I dropped to my hands and knees over the man’s head, thinking, At least they’ll have to hit me first.
“Stop, stop! Please stop!” I yelled.
“Get out of the way—we want to kill him!” the angry young men shouted back.
“No,” I answered loudly but calmly as I looked up. “Nobody’s going to die here today.”
As they slowly dropped their stones and backed away, I helped the beaten man sit up, then carefully pulled him to his feet and brought him to the rear bumper of his van, where we sat until the mob was gone.
What I’m not saying is that Palmer Chinchen is a hero. I’m not. I simply try to live the way I tell others that Jesus told us to live—like your life matters. What you do matters.
So let’s stop being so self-indulgent and stop growing inwardly focused churches, and realize that God can use your life—your church—to change what is messed up out there.
You see, if I wait, if I don’t act—if you wait, if you don’t act—the man on the side of the road dies … literally.
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