In 21 years

I turned 21 just a few days ago. I’m leaving the nation of Israel in 9 days. I ought to have much to write about, yet as I cycle through my thoughts I find none so gripping that they should be elevated above the rest.  I could write about this past year, or the past 21 years; about the people I have loved, and those I have lost. Or I might make mention of the depth of the human heart I have seen in these people; the unreliable constant of impulsive natures — natures akin to my own.
I could also write of memories and photographs, these are the beautiful things; and they grow in beauty as they walk hand-in-hand with Time.
I may be so bold as to discuss the Divine, or more appropriately, to discuss anywhere His Glory has come in contact with my reality. I could try with every ounce of my endowed creativity to put words to that which I have seen and that which has been shown — yet, even my most elegant composition will pale against the backdrop of reality. Rather than attaching names, definitions, and explanations to any revelation which has been disclosed to me, I ought only to point. Point toward that which I have seen. Point toward that from which all has come forth. Point toward that which I have struggled against. I ought to point, in hopes that another might look, and another might see.
I could write of abstract ideas: art, music, beauty, love. These all have I found to be more real than even the most concrete and tangible subjects. It might be that that which is most intangible is planted deepest in the heart of reality.

In 21 years I have learnt very little.

Perhaps I have learnt that I am simple, that my heart is limited, and that my mind has been appointed boundaries. Yet I have also discovered that eternity has been placed in this simple and limited heart, and that the mind’s very act of straining toward mystery, elevates it to unseen heights.
I have come to realize that my most effective instruments of understanding are silence and struggle. To withdraw deep within myself and wait, while simultaneously pushing outward in all directions to find that foundation which might withstand the pressure of my struggle.
In 21 years I have learnt the humble advancements of unknowing, and the critical necessity of certain dogma.
I have traveled through cultures, societies, and peoples and found that we are all made the same. That from the dust we have all risen, and to it we will fall. I have stood awestruck as the Cambodian sun set in shades of color I had not previously comprehended, however I was equally disarmed by the eyes of a young Bedouin girl in the desert of Jordan.
I have seen poverty and I have seen wealth, and I have mourned for both.
I have learnt something of love and something of pain; and I have learnt neither of these apart from the other.
I have tasted of the tree in the garden, but also had my fill of the fruit of grace.
And I have seen true beauty, once or twice.

In 21 years I have learned very little; but what I have learned, I have learned by struggling with grace. I pray that I may never break, as I contest Reality, that It may show Its glorious face.

You who put the LORD in remembrance,
   take no rest,
and give him no rest

Isaiah 62:6

My Everything

That my life would reflect the beauty of my God. — Psalm 34:5

That the world might know the beauty, the worth, of Christ when they see all that He has cost me. That they may stand astounded when they hear my praise. That I may become a spectacle as I cry that He is worth it all. That I may learn the beauty of sacrifice and the tenderness of a heart devoted to one thing. That He may become my obsession, my salvation, my everything. That He may become my reason, my hope, my everything. That my heart may be lovesick for the One who holds my devotion. That my life may be poured out for the One who is my maker. That I may be set ablaze for the One who holds my affections.

When they see my life and think it a waste, I praise evermore that He is good.

Night

I had a dream the other night.
I don’t remember much of the dream, but at one point I was sitting on a bus, which was driving through a big city [I believe it was Chicago]. There were a lot of people on the bus, I remember on my one side sat Allie, my sister; and on my other side sat a girl who’s name/face I cannot remember. There was a big window on the roof of the bus through which we could see the night sky [I knew that it was deep in the middle of the night]. As I gazed at the sky I noted the smog that covered the city, and the hazy orange light that tinted the sky everywhere from the lights of the city. The girl looked at the sky as well, and said to me, “[paraphrased] Don’t worry, soon enough we’ll be out of the city and the sky will be darker.” In her statement she was implying that:
A.) We would soon be out of the city and in the “country” where the sky was large, dark, and natural.
B.) The country sky would be much darker, uninhibited by smog and light, and much more beautiful.
C.) It was a good thing that we would be in that place.

Whether this dream, in itself, means anything I do not know. But it did propel me to think on the concept of darkness and night. There are things that are inherently frightening and disconcerting about darkness and the night sky. Night is a daunting place. It has a way of confusing us, we are easily lost and our sense of direction is easily misplaced. Control is stripped from our hands as darkness settles and assumptions of danger begin to dance through our minds. We have no jurisdiction over that which we cannot sense, and we have no control how long we are out of control – we are at the mercy of the rising sun.

However, there is also something beautiful about the night. There is something beautiful about relying on specks of stars for guidance. Our dependence rests solely and fully on slight dots of light, which are miniscule in comparison to the light we have grown accustomed to walking beneath. We must learn to walk by faith rather than by sight. There is something beautiful about living with the knowledge, and clinging to the hope, of the rising sun. There is something beautiful about putting your hope in that which you cannot see, yet know to be true. There is something beautiful about the surrender we must live in when surrounded by night, we have no control, and if we wish to continue moving forward, we must surrender and relinquish any last illusion of self-jurisdiction. There is something beautiful about the authenticity and natural state of the night sky – it is how it was created to be, unpolluted by modern innovations.

But we, all too often, create smog. We build man-made devices of the night, in order to cling to some last illusions of control, sensory understanding, and sight. We build lampposts and fluorescent lights that we place upon every street corner, that we may be guided, not by “flimsy concepts” such as faith and hope, but rather by “concrete concepts” we can see, acknowledge, and follow – we like to see at least six steps ahead. We create for ourselves counterfeit daylight, amidst the beauty of the night. Our creation is vulgar and crass, and, though it is meant to instill a sense of safety and security, it robs us of experiencing that which can only be found in the night. It robs us of a beauty we may never find, or even understand, without standing in the place of discomfort and abandonment established in the darkness of night. We must, for our own sake, surrender our lampposts and cling to the stars.

This is the season I find myself in today. One in which I must surrender every last ounce of “self” which my heart so desperately desires to hold on to. One in which my prayer day by day is one crying for sustenance and that which I have found to be the single necessity[Psalm 27:4]. A season in which I have come to see the inherent dissatisfaction in everything around me, both the good and the bad. One in which I have come to see my deep seeded need to filled; but one, also, in which I have come to recognize that fulfillment is only possible after I have first been emptied. I’m walking in a season of waiting upon the Lord — and learning to enjoy His processes along the way. May His grace abound to me more and more as I learn to walk nearer to the shadow of His wings.

Tacoma Time

I’ve been avoiding this for far too long now. It’s a bit foreboding.
This summer was, arguably, the best three months of my life thus far.
I can tell stories, I can share testimonies, I can share pictures — all these, though good things, fall short when contrasted against all I watched unfold before my eyes and within my heart this summer. 

I’ll tell stories anyway, I’ll report testimonies, and I’ll share pictures — and I will do the best I can to give you a taste of what this summer has done for me. But please, approach this with the knowledge that this is but a taste. Okay, disclaimer over — here goes nothing.

The first month and a half [June 13th - July 27] of this summer was spent in Tacoma Washington. It was in this time that much of my personal transformation took place. I was taught much. I was educated in different “techniques” and “strategies” — ways to engage in prayer, biblical meditation, and spiritual warfare; but it was not necessarily these, which enacted the change in my heart. Don’t misunderstand what I am trying to convey, I am inexpressibly grateful for the tools that I was equipped with during this time. It was such a blessing and an honor to be taught by such anointed individuals — individuals who learned the material, not from a workbook, but rather from times of intimacy with the Lord and seasons of difficulty and labor in the real world. They taught with such authority because they were teaching revelation that had been seared upon their hearts. But again, all the tools, strategies, and models in the world cannot transform a heart. The words of the best teachers and the best preachers known to man can have no lasting effect when separated from the Spirit of God. That which affected such a change in my spirit, such a lasting transformation in my heart, was the revelation of Jesus Christ. This summer my knowledge of God was deepened. It is hard to convey with words that which has happened, but in an inadequate nutshell, I further recognized the reality of God and who I am in light of this reality. I walked deeper into the understanding of the reality of my relationship with God. It is not some sort of religious game or competition. God is not merely some sort of ethereal philosophy, theology, or idea — but there is a personhood to God. He has emotions, He feels for me. I can know Him and be known by Him. 
I have ”known” this since long before this summer.
The truth of this information had been settled into my mind for some time.
But this summer the revelation of this truth began to burn upon my heart.
And my only response to this revelation was abandonment.
I found that realizing the reality of God, and His desire to be in relationship with me, called for me to lay down ALL else in order to dive into my pursuit of Him.

“One thing have I asked of the LORD,
   that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
   all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
   and to inquire in his temple.”
– Psalm 27:4 

Much of my life I have grown up in a setting where the highest aspiration of the Christian community is to place God at the top of your list. Much of this “list” is dictated by performance, so the more time you spend with God, or the more time you spend reading the bible, the better. But as I lived in Tacoma, I was held to a new standard; I was surrounded by a community that had made a knowledge of God, not their first priority, but their only priority. They fully abandoned “the list” and dedicated their life to the pursuit of one thing — the gaze upon the beauty of the Lord.

As you may imagine, living immersed in a community such as this for 6 weeks, was an opportunity I am eternally grateful for. Prior to living in Tacoma I had a skewed view of the body and a mis-shapen picture of community. I had loved friends and family, and I knew that I was loved. But if I were to be honest with myself, I would need to recognize that I saw relationships as nothing more than a hindrance or a burden to my pursuit of the Lord. My thought process was, “At the speed I desire to run toward the Lord, the pursuit of any other relationship will only serve to slow me down or dampen my passions.” And to that point, that was all I had seen. But as I walked into the City Central [the church in Tacoma that the Catalyst Training Program was based out of] community I was my view of the body of aggressively confronted. I looked around at men and women who were passionate about the Lord. I saw men who had a consistent passion to know the face of God. I saw women whose actions depicted a heart of worshipful adoration, whether in the church or in the home. I saw this community running so hard after the heart of God, and I recognized something. As I looked from individual to individual I noticed that they were going farther in their relationship with Christ and deeper into the heart of God with the people surrounding them than they would be able to go on their own. I recognized this. I lived in this. I saw that it was good. This community, this body of believers living in accord with the Lord’s heart and lacking spirits of rivalry and performance, is something I want to carry with me. I want the ministry of reconciliation to be at the forefront of every relationship.

I have just begun to put a dent into everything I would like to share about this summer. Expect a few more blog posts in the near future [one of which will be dedicated solely to my time in Cambodia].

But before I close, I’ll quickly let you know where I am now, returning from such an eventful summer:
The Lord is continuing to consecrate my heart to Him. As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I walked away from this summer with a newfound revelation and knowledge of who God is. As I continue on, I walk in a new community, surrounded by new brothers, sisters, fathers, and mothers, and am fed by new sources — yet the revelation has not changed, for the one who has been revealed is never changing. He is making himself first in my life, stripping away all that I would put before Him — even if it’s a good thing. Though this can be painful in the moment, I rejoice at heart, for He truly is all I want. He really is all I need. His love is really the only thing that satisfies.

Read Hosea 2 + 3.

Restoration

There’s a lot going on.

This is roughly the fifth or sixth time I have attempted a post since I’ve begun classes, ministry, and community living in Tacoma. Each time I am overwhelmed by all I desire to convey, and in a fit of hopelessness I walk away from my computer with a deep sigh.

In a spirit of honesty:

As I inquired of the Lord, asking what He might have me share through this post, my initial desire was to disclose insight into one of the many ”exceptional” revelations He has given me these last few weeks; His reply to this was a simple:

“No.”

I can accept that. Maybe I’ll share about some of the divine encounters I have had while sharing the gospel and evangelizing on the streets of Tacoma…and again:

“No.”

What if I gave an account of what a general day at the Catalyst Training School looked like?

“No.”

Getting a bit frustrated, I inquired as to why these were not what He had for me to share. His response was straight forward and convicting: 

[Summarized] “Stephen, though these are all “good things” they will not give me the glory that I desire. Though I am glorified in your knowledge and understanding, in your boldness and evangelism, and even in your daily routine; nothing gives me glory like your weaknesses. Boast in your weakness that the power of my restoration and salvation may be seen.”  

So here I am. These past few weeks the Lord has brought before my eyes the depravity, desperation, and humiliation of my heart-condition. I believe now that I have, maybe for the first time, seen the reflection of my own heart, naked and exposed, in the light of His holiness and glorious intent for my life.
Let me briefly unpack that last statement.
I am done deceiving myself. I wish not to live a life with the appearance of functionality and glory, yet void of true restoration and beauty. I want to see what’s really inside of me. I want to know what I truly, in my heart of hearts, believe about myself and about the nature of the one whom I serve. This desire is pure, this desire is holy, this desire is in alignment with the Father’s heart, and when this desire is recognized and answered, the reality one faces is exceedingly difficult to accept.

I have always told myself that I’m okay. I grew up in a great family who loved the Lord and taught me to do the same. I was accepted and loved. I have never undergone significant or traumatic abuse or neglect. Other people have problems, but I’m okay.
This is not the case. I am not okay.

The Lord has been revealing areas of fear that have  been ruling my mindsets, outlooks, and understanding for years and years. Fear of rejection, fear of opinion of man, fear of failure, fear of inadequacy, and the list continues on. Beyond this there are roots of unworthiness, isolation, and independence that have dug their way deep into the crevices of my heart affecting not only myself, but those around me. Though all these sound awfully problematic, to attack them would be to merely attack the symptom. What is required is an attack on that which these stem from, a strong hold of self-hatred.

So here I am. I now stand before you, my brothers and my sisters, bare and exposed as the light of his holiness shines upon my depravity; and please understand, the portion I shared with you above is but a brief summary of the darkness he has revealed. But I do not stand before you a man defeated, a man void of hope, nor a man in chaotic rebellion; quite the contrary, I stand before you a man who rejoices in his weakness knowing that there is a promised salvation for those who will seek it. The man Jesus Christ, whom embodied salvation with his every movement upon the earth has become familiar with me. Salvation was not merely a moment upon Calvary, salvation was a man Jesus Christ; every compassionate extension of his hand, every touch of healing, every tear from his eye was a representation of the salvation the Father yearns to pour out upon his children. And it is that very salvation I hope in now.

He has begun a work of restoration and salvation in me, and I know that he is faithful to carry it through to completion.
He disciplines me because he loves me. He refines me because he loves me. He burns away the chaff because he loves me. He speaks to me of the things in my heart because he loves me. He sits in my mess because he loves me. He purifies me because he loves me. He takes the time because he loves me. He desires to restore me to the man he intended me to be, a masterpiece, because he loves me. He draws me by the hand towards streams of holiness and righteousness because he loves me. And his heart is to be with me.

I have captivated his heart, of this I am sure, and to this I will cling.

Nutshell Update

I like Washington. It’s got a good feel to it.

Normally when I add a new post I have some sort of revelation I am working through, or some internal struggle I am attempting to processing. I don’t have much of that this time.
I just recently arrived in beautiful Tacoma, WA for my summer of training, evangelism, and restoration at Catalyst Training School. It’s an awesome school. There are some awesome people here. It’s an awesome opportunity.

Here are a few things that I feel the Lord wants to do in my heart this summer [some may call them expectations]:

• I want an authentic desire for the Lord. I want Him to be my everything. Though this is still only my first day here, I have already felt a desperation for the Lord tugging at my spirit.
  I fear sometimes that my desire for the Lord is brought out of an impure heart and impure motives. I fear that I may “ask wrongly to spend upon my passions”. I fear that I’m selfish and wrongly ambitious. And, well, I am. But a strong brother of mine reminded me today that when the Lord looks at me he doesn’t dwell on my many imperfections, he sees a heart that burns for authenticity and integrity. He sees a heart that desperately desires more of  Him.
  So that’s where I am. I want Him to be my everything — and I desperately want that to be more than just a clever phrase, I want it to  be the “most true” desire in my spirit.
• I want to be broken. I know that will hurt. I know it means I have to come face to face with my own depravity and unworthiness. But I know that it’s worth it. I want to tread into deeper levels of intimacy with Him, and I know to go to many of these places I must be broken of my carnal heart and my deep seeded pride.
• I have a burning fire for evangelism in my heart. I want to spread the name and fame of God wherever I go. He has been calling me to this for a while and I have been…less than obedient. But he is faithful to reward me opportunity after opportunity. The school will have a number of opportunities for street evangelism [AT LEAST twice a week]. I look forward to breaking off some of these chains of  timidity and stepping out in faith; saying with my actions that he is my everything and that all else fades in comparison.
• I want to break off chains of man-pleasing religion. I want to break off shackles of man fearing.

Alright. Well that’s just a real quick “nutshell” update. Keep me in your prayers and expect more extensive updates in the future.

Thank you Jesus. You are good.

We Have A Problem

We have a problem.

This will not be news to most of you, but our generation [I speak of the youth; draw the line where you wish] is growing up in a society which claims to have “outgrown God”. We have science. We know more. We no longer need the games of our parents. We are a  society of Children who perceive themselves as self-sufficient and self-gratifying and, in the great name of science, are prepared to forge the way through religion and on to some form of glorious transcendence.

My friends, we have a problem.

With so much postmodern jargon and children who are fed only to spit up the latest theories, with an extreme lack of internal canonization, it is difficult to sift through the madness. However, I believe that we can all come to the conclusion that we have a problem.

[DISCLAIMER]:

I hate writing about “my generation” for two reasons:

A.) I feel extremely cliché.
And
B.) I feel like I am seen as “knocking” or discounting what was instilled in us by the generations prior.

In regards to “A”; I don’t care. It’s important. Whether cliché or not, some things need to be said.
In regards to “B”; my intentions could not be farther. I want only to respect those that came before and recognize thier wisdom and faithfulness to the Lord. Our problems are our own concoctions, and rather than “blame” we must seek to gleen from the wisdom of our fathers.

So much of our “Christian effort” in this field is spent addressing the question, “How do we fix this [this being the problem of course]?” And although I think this question is huge and must be addressed, I believe we must first ask ourselves, “How did we arrive here?” How did we arrive at this place; and what ideas, theories, or beliefs fed this myth that the creature is no longer in need of the Creator?

I don’t propose to have “the answer”. I cannot even muster enough pride to suppose that I may have found “the reason”; but I do believe that I see part of it. I do believe that, as I have looked deep into the religious culture of my generation, I see an inherent flaw that has, in some small way, contributed to our fall from grace.

We have been fed a partial revelation of the nature and character of God, and believed it to be full.

Let me explain. As much of the theology of my generation has been based on “peppy praise songs” that, though worshipful in nature, are rather tame and romanticized, we have understood only a partial revelation of the nature and character of God. Growing up we understand that God loves. We understand that God forgives. We understand that God is Father, that He is a good Shepard, and that he delights in mercy. These things are nice and we like these. And in this is our full, all-encompassing view, of the nature and character of God.

God is Love.
God is full of mercy.
God does extend grace.

These things are true. I am in no way attempting to undermine or instill doubt in regards to these attributes of our beautiful Savior and Messiah. HOWEVER, God is bigger.

I find it hard to locate a children’s curriculum that adequately depicts the holiness of God, and concepts such as “the fear of God” are foreign to much of today’s Christian youth. Today’s seeker friendly theology does not want to offend with a God who may not be as “tolerant” as “other options out there”. [I am on the verge of sounding like a cynic at the moment and I don't want that. So clear any "purely cynical" thought from your mind before you continue. Thank you]. I now ask you, was Jesus tolerant? When explaining His Father or His Father’s business was he hesitant to express the reverence, holiness, and righteousness of God and his call?

No.

No. He gave the full revelation. He let the little children come unto him, and then he violently drove the money lenders from the temple. He was a man who could love and a man who could be moved to a righteous anger. He was a man who extended grace to the woman caught in adultery and a man who commanded the rich man to sell all he owned. Jesus extended a full revelation of the nature and character of God.

Now, let me explain why this partial revelation is a problem. With the depiction we have of God, lacking his attributes of holiness and reverence, we have trouble reconciling our faith with things such as: homosexuality (if God loves them, how can he condemn them), the problem of pain, the problem of Hell and eternal damnation, and other dilemmas we begin to face once we are “released from the church”. Rather than dialoguing on and on let me post a conversation I had recently with a friend [whom I care for deeply] who was having difficulty reconciling a loving God with issues of  homosexuality and of eternal damnation:

[DISCLAIMER: MY ANSWER IS FLAWED. I am so imperfect. I get so many things wrong. So read this through a lens of spiritual discernment.]

I assume that you have met some homosexuals (those that you had previously been “sheltered from”) and you loved them. And rightly so because they are children of God, created to  be loved. And then you thought to yourself, if I love them this much and God is supposed to love them EVEN MORE than I ever could, how could he condemn them to hell because of their actions? And yes, this is a hard thing to reconcile; especially due to our upbringing and the culture of Christianity that was fed to us. As we grew up the love of God and the grace of God were pushed upon us over and over and over and over and over and over again, and those who were pushing meant well, because THESE ARE GOOD THINGS! But in doing so I believe an error was made as we never understood the holiness of God. God is holy. And because of this he cannot be in the presence of UNHOLINESS and UNRIGHTEOUSNESS and this extends far wider than homosexuality, this extends to me. I cannot be in the presence of God as I am. But, that’s where the Gospel message comes in [and I’ll spare you this because I’m confident you’ve heard it your fair share of times!]. I don’t think homosexuals are condemned because they’re homosexuals, I think they’re condemned because they’ve chosen to live an unrepentant lifestyle of sin, JUST AS I would believe that if I myself chose to live in an unrepentant patterned lifestyle of sin I would also be condemned, even if that sin wasn’t homosexuality. This idea of a Holy God is also, I believe, part of the way we reconcile his love with a place such as Hell. Hell wasn’t God’s “original plan” he wanted to be with us, but we essentially messed it up (I know…you know all this). Now that we live in the darkness we do, we can’t be with Him; for we must be holy to dwell with a holy God. But He still desires us; and the ONLY WAY we can be made holy is by the sacrifice and blood of Jesus Christ, and THAT is also why other faiths “won’t work”. Belief in Jesus is essential, because it’s the only way we are made clean, it’s how we are made holy, and it’s how we may dwell with the Father. It’s the basics of the gospel message, but even I have rarely seen it lay out like this, in the form of an explanation explaining the holiness of God and his perfection and how these require such a reconciling love of a Savior. We must learn to fear him as we love him.

I have seen this problem of reconciling what I’ve been taught to the prevailing problems in my own life. I have seen it in the lives of those close to me. And I’ve observed it silently in a generation surrounding me.
I’ve seen the full spectrum of responses to this problem. I’ve seen those that close their eyes, close their ears, and scream loud enough that they may not have to face the barrage of holes in their theology. I’ve seen those who seek earnestly and find that God is much bigger than they will ever comprehend. And I’ve seen those that, to my hearts dismay, have turned away from a God who does not seem to fit the mold of lovingkindness he was depicted in.

Brothers and sisters. It is time for our generation to rise and proclaim the message  of a holy and  righteous God. It is time for us to portray the loving grace of God hand in hand with the holy fear we cherish within our spirits. It is time for a generation of John the Baptists to be voices crying from the wilderness “Make straight the paths of the Lord.”

Cluttered

This summer God is going to do some truly awesome works in and through me. I know this — He knows this — and the enemy knows this. God and I are excited and expectant about these works [to say the least]; the enemy……not so much. I’ve felt some real spiritual attack as I prepare for my time in Tacoma WA, here’s a recent post from my journal:

There is such deep turmoil in my spirit, and I DON’T KNOW WHY!
It’s frustrating. It’s almost a tearing sensation inside of me. I continually clutter my life and my path with more and more stuff in attempts to force or push this feeling out. I clutter with more people, with more things to do, and with more to distract myself with.
I clutter, and clutter, and clutter. 
But could it be that this clutter is what’s tearing me apart?
That in the clutter is all this emptiness?
But I’m scared.
I’m scared that when I let go of all the clutter, when I drop every defense; what is left won’t suffice.
I’m afraid that He won’t be enough.
Forgive me Abba, I am so weak and so full of doubt.
Forgive me Daddy.
Take my clutter away.

All I want is you. You are my portion. You are my Prize.

You are enough.

Sanctification

Disclaimer:

I haven’t posted in a while.
Maybe that means I haven’t been thinking enough.
Maybe it means I’m thinking too much.
Maybe time has just gotten away from me.
In any case,
I haven’t posted in a while.
I have a feeling, however, that I’m going to be posting a lot throughout the next few weeks.
Be Prepared.

I want to be alone.

Solitude and sanctuary are the recent cries of my heart. I touched on this a while ago in a post, but this yearning within has in no way subsided. When this longing [which I shall explain more in-depth in a moment] first developed I was at a loss for why I felt this. Community is GOOD [if anything has been drilled into me over the span of my life, specifically this past year at a small private Christian institution, it is the value of community]; if it is good, however, why do I long so deeply to be plucked from my surroundings and set apart in a place of complete and utter aloneness with God? I didn’t have an answer to this; and my answer to this is still incomplete. But he has not left my cries and questioning unanswered.

The Lord opened my eyes recently to how much of EVERYTHING that I do is dictated, in one form or another, by the opinion of man [yes, a reoccurring theme]. And it was not  in the ways I would have expected [the "typical" manners in which I traditionally catch myself engaging this "Unholy" concern are along the lines of "what are they thinking about me?" "How am I perceived?" and, in essence "what they think about me defines how I see myself."]. Though I must stay on guard against these false mindsets, it was not these that my eyes were opened to. The concern was much “simpler” and ingrained much deeper into all that I thought, felt, and acted upon. I recognized that in the simple things I do, I am often times immersed in this concern. For example [and please recognize that these examples are not absolute. They may be a "majority of the time", but there are instances apart from these]:

- When I talk, I speak to be heard by those around me.

-  When I think, I think to postulate that which may be of use to those around me.

- When I do, I do to affect in one form or another those around me.

These are not bad things. These things in themselves, an even within a community, are not bad things. However, they do not stay “within themselves”. They spill over.

In light of this I find that as I pray to the Lord, my prayers are diluted by the fact that, in my seeking, I do so out of impure motive and intent. Out of an intent that is MORE FOCUSED on the concern of people [or maybe it would be better put -- an intent that is not one of worship, but rather "charity"]. I suddenly find that as I contemplate the Lord, as I attempt to fix myself on His beauty and on His majesty, I do so out of a heart of divided intent.

This makes me sick. My heart cries for authenticity not only in my relationships, in the words that I speak, and in the way in which I live my life; but also [and primarily] in the way I approach the King.

This is why my heart cries for solitude. I want that which I am surrounded by to be gone. I want that which I am immersed in to be Him and His heart. For if I were to fully immerse myself in Him, if my eyes are ever fixed towards heaven, if He is all I see, all I dream, and all I could ever hope for, then it would be FOR Him and Him alone I would sing. If this were the case then it would be for Him and Him alone that I would consider, that I would speak, and that I would move. I am in no way shape or form promoting a lifestyle that disregards community and fellowship or encourages some sort of extreme seclusion; I simply mean to emphasize the radical importance of a sanctified heart. Because until we cease to gaze upon Christ through the lens of human concern and begin to see Him in His fullness, we will not be able to fully worship. Until we enter a place of sanctity, until we come face to face with the God we worship our vision will be skewed.

If you have felt this discontentment, if you have noticed the inerrancy in authenticity as you have sought to know Him more, if you DESIRE the sanctity of your heart, I would ask that you pray the following prayer with me. And do not simply read the words, but pray the prayer. [Yes, this is a "blog-alter-call", but I truly feel that this sanctification aligns with the heart of Christ for His bride, and I feel that this something THE LORD desires to do].

Lord,

Create in me a new heart oh Lord. I confess my inadequacies before you oh Lord. I confess that I often come to with impure motives, intents, and desires. But Lord I know that you are quick to clothe me in righteousness, that you delight in mercy, and that you HAVE and will continue to make me new. I desire to shine as your bride, I desire to give myself more fully to you in EVERYTHING. So take from me my heart that withholds, and give to me the heart of Christ, the heart fully focused on you and your beautiful face. Sanctify my heart oh Lord, create in me an inner court, a Holy of Holies, where I may dwell with you and you alone. Where I may experience your intimacy void of all the stains that surround me. Sanctify my heart oh Lord, that it may be in this temple that I find you. For you do not live in temples made of brick and stone, but in the hearts of man; may my heart be a temple unto you and you alone. I love you God and I know you love me. Have your way with me and may your love be ever more manifest in my life. 

Take my life and let it be, 
consecrated Lord to Thee.

In Jesus name Amen.  

Sidenote:
This summer I will be attending Catalyst Training School in Tacoma WA [http://catalystschool.com/] for 8 weeks and then traveling with Catalyst for 4 weeks to Cambodia. If you would like more information on how to support me via prayer or via financial donations [the all-inclusive cost of the program is $3800] please email me at: stephen_mortland@taylor.edu. Thank you to all of you who pray for me regularly already, your petitions are manifested powerfully in my life.
Love,
Stephen

Consecration

I was listening to a sermon a few days ago by Paul Washer. He shared the story of two Moravian boys who had a vision and a burning passion for lost souls. These boys, barely out of their  twenties, felt called to minister to slaves on the island of St. Thomas. They responded to this call by selling themselves into slavery, so that they may be more effective in winning these slaves to the Lord. As the boat departed, and the families of these young men stood on the dock weeping as they knew this was the last they would see of their beloveds; one of the young men shouted from the boat: “May the Lamb that was slain receive the reward of His suffering!”

In light of this illustration, I have a confession:

I am apathetic.
I am so weak.
I am a liar and a hypocrite.
I am a man of split devotion and divided passions.
I am unwilling to recognize my weakness and unwilling to change.
I look like the world, act like the world, and too often I want what the world wants.
I am apathetic.
Lord I repent. Have mercy.

I refuse to allow this “realization” to be a doorway for shame, but rather a catalyst for reform.

Staying within the framework of “shameless reformation” I think it important to look further into my apathy, to see the depth of my hypocrisy. This is not something I want to do, these are not things I want to realize; but above all else I do not want to go on living apart from the intense and radical calling of Jesus Christ.

So often I hear and say things like, “I no longer desire that which the world has to offer.”
I lie.

[*inserted pause for you to gasp.......*]

I must be lying. I MUST be. Because when I look in the mirror I see a boy who looks like the world, who listens to the world, who holds in regard the opinion of the world, who conforms to the standards of the world and allows them to dictate and measure his criterion for living. I see a boy who, in the end, just wants to be satisfied. Who wants to be happy.

If I look good I will be happy. If I am loved I will be happy. If I am spoken highly of I will be happy. If I am fashionable I will be happy. If I am funny I will be happy. If I have a girl I will be happy. If I win I will be happy. If  I was more talented I would be happy. If I was smarter I would be happy. If I could be like him– or  better yet, If he wanted to be like me I would be happy. If I was stronger. If I could sing. If I would draw. If I was more secure. If I am comfortable I will be happy. If I, If I, If I…….

But I also see a boy who knows. Who knows that when measuring the way he looks he will never look “good enough”. Who knows  that when he listens to the Father he ALREADY looks “good enough”. Who knows that when measured by the world he will “be where he belongs”. Who knows that when he sits with the Father he already IS where he belongs.

I’m going to say something now that I KNOW, but I’m honestly not sure how well I UNDERSTAND:

If I abide I will be happy.

Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet……but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion which will not be taken away from her.”

That’s it. That’s the “One Thing”. To abide. To sit at the feet of Jesus. Again, I KNOW this; but I don’t yet understand. Knowledge can be taught, understanding must be experienced. And, yes, I have experienced the intimacy of the Father to an extent, but I need more. I need to learn to cultivate a lifestyle of intimacy.

Unfortunately, and to my great regret, that’s not all that I desire. I want to be seen, to be heard, to be known, I want to be important. And (also unfortunately) I cannot simply “tell myself this is wrong”. I am too selfish. My plea is for Holiness.

I look like the world, I sound like the world, I taste, smell, see, and move like the world. But I have one thing the world does not. I have one thing that cannot be found in the expanse of darkness.

I have a heart that cries for holiness and a spirit that yearns for intimacy.

Though that cry is faint, and at times it appears to be merely an echo, it resonates all the same. And He hears it. He hears it. I must believe He hears it. Though my yearning is weak, though my desire is “half-hearted”, it is present.

I pray that my passion and desire would increase. I pray that I would BREAK and that it would PAIN my spirit to be apart from the Lord. I pray that He would take me deeper into His embrace that does not end. I pray that I would holy and consecrated unto You.

“You shall be holy to me, for I the Lord am holy and have separated you from among the peoples, that you should be mine.” — Leviticus 20:26