You know that analogy about drinking from a fire hydrant? People use it a lot with some sort of training or maybe a sermon---like, "today's sermon will be a little like trying to drink water from a fire hydrant." I think that is happening to me this morning. I got up like normal, about 15 minutes after my alarm had gone off for the last time. I made coffee, drank some water, ironed Casey's shirt, ate some breakfast, drank some more water, peed about 10 times because my bladder is the size of a pea, finally sat down with my coffee and half a cookie leftover from work last night, prayed and wrote in my journal some, told Jesus I'd really like to get to know Him, and decided the Word would be a good place to go.

I'm reading Luke right now. I thought about reading one of Paul's letters because those are usually pretty good, and I've been reading a lot of Old Testament lately, so I thought I'd read some New to change it up a little. Then I remembered how I had just prayed (a few weeks ago) that I would get to know Jesus better---and it just made sense to go to the source---obviously Jesus is throughout the entire Bible, but the Gospels are kind of up close and personal. Not just ideas about Jesus, but Jesus Himself. Man, I just about can't type fast enough to get all these thoughts and excitement out. I am just seeing as I'm writing that these past few weeks God has been doing something big!

Okay, focus---so, this morning I picked up in Luke 6. I should mention here that at church this past Sunday the sermon was on Mark 8 (v. 31 through the end)---“34Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. ³⁵ For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. ³⁶ What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? ³⁷ Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?" This sermon was really good, really weighty, but also really frustrating for me. It felt unfinished at the end. There was some tension. And I think it's because God had more to say to me on it. It was really just the middle of the conversation. Yesterday I postponed reading Luke to re-read that section of Mark. Same feeling---good, weighty, frustrating, unfinished.

Okay, so back to this morning, Luke 6. About halfway through the chapter, Jesus prays all night and the next morning calls his disciples together and calls 12 of them to be his apostles. Then, he starts what is known as the sermon on the mount. He starts telling his disciples the difference between a disciple and an unbeliever. Basically, you could sum it up by thinking of everything you'd normally think about success and joy and your enemies and life, and then whatever the opposite is, that's what is actually true and required (and enjoyed by) of Jesus' disciples. You are supposed to love your enemies; you are not supposed to judge; you are supposed to gladly give away what 'belongs to you'--even when the person takes it without your permission; you will be hated by the world; you will be hungry; you will have sorrow. Because your reward is in Jesus. Your reward is in the God of the entire universe. These are light and momentary afflictions. Jesus said "What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet forfeit his soul?" (Mark 8:36) This is so counter-cultural. This is so counter-me. Ouch.

Then Jesus says something that broke me. "'Why do you call me, 'Lord, Lord,' and do not do what I say? I will show you what he is like who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice. He is like a man building a house , who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck the house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete." (Luke 6:46-49) This is me. Not the first one, the second one. Day after day, I read the Word, I "want to" do the things Jesus says and does, and, usually, I just go on with my day unchanged. I am like the man in James who looks in the mirror at my face, walks away, and immediately forgets what I look like. Absurd. And not discipleship.

I felt compelled to go pick up a book I got at a discipleship training kind of weekend in the 'Boro back in the fall. I picked up The Complete Book of Discipleship and started reading. There is an extended quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer's Cost of Discipleship (which, I will note, was also recommended in the sermon Sunday):

"Discipleship means adherence to Christ, and, because Christ is the object of that adherence, it must take the form of discipleship. An abstract Christology, a doctrinal system, a general religious knowledge on the subject of grace or on the forgiveness of sins, render discipleship superfluous, and in fact they positively exclude any idea of discipleship whatever, and are essentially inimical to the whole conception of following Christ. With an abstract idea it is possible to enter into a relation of formal knowledge, to become enthusiastic about it, and perhaps even to put it into practice; but it can never be followed in personal obedience. Christianity without the living Christ is inevitably Christianity without discipleship, and Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ."

Wow! Wow!!! This was me. At 7:30 drinking my coffee, this was me. Now, 11:17, and for however long it's been since I read the Word and read over some of this book, that is not me! I have been set free!!! I am a disciple of Christ. I cannot go back. I pray I will not go back. Lord keep me close to You. Please pray with me, for me, and I will pray for you---Jesus lead us, teach us, disciple us. May we never again fall into the trap, believing the lie that we could somehow be "Christians" without being your disciples. Jesus, show us what it looks like to follow You. You want us to. Amen.

I think, after reading this, you will either be really confused, or you will be like "Yeah! Me too!" This is just one of those things that is so groundbreaking to me, so potentially life-changing---to not share it, I think, would be disobedience. Or, at least, a bad idea. Really, the greatest part of this is God loves me! He didn't want me stuck where I was. He wants me to be a disciple of Jesus. To really live that. To actually understand what it means to 'take up my cross and follow Jesus.' He is so visibly making strides to show me this, to teach me what He wants. I love it! Everywhere I turn now, He is telling me. The sermon at church. The Word in the my morning time with Him. This book on discipleship that I got like 6 months ago. CNN (no kidding, I went to read an article on the belief blog, which led me to go check out the Mars Hill Church blog, which led me to watch a clip that "happened" to be on the front page from a sermon called "The Cost of Discipleship." It was pretty much word for word what I'd already heard from the sermon, the Word, and the book. AMAZING.) God knows that I love this kind of thing---where He bombards me with the same message in 50 different places. "What's next Papa?" (see Romans 8:15-17, The Message)

Karen Cheek Teague

Tomorrow, at 4:00 PM, my family -- the Cheek side, to be specific,
will gather together to remember my Aunt Karen, who we lost sometime overnight on Wednesday. At times like this, you tend to look back over your memories with that person and you probably wish that you had more time together, more happy memories to linger over. Of course, I have memories of my Aunt Karen at all the family gatherings---holidays, birthdays, cookouts, weddings. But I have just a few distinct memories of her in the short 25 years I knew her.

One is largely embedded in my mind thanks to a camcorder that my parents got when Danielle and I were little. It's Christmas Day, and all the kids have been sent to play in the living room, while all the adults fight over space in the kitchen. There's some Christmas music playing, "Jingle Bell Rock" to be exact, and in walks Aunt Karen. She's decked out in Christmas attire--I think even some jingle bell earrings--and she's dancing to the song with the kiddos. That's a good memory.

I also remember loving Aunt Karen's Christmas and birthday gifts. She always had a little treasure to impart to us as little girls---two of my favorites were a handheld mirror that looks like a flower, and a birthday party teddy bear, who was my only stuffed animal to ever have a birthday party complete with Easy Bake Oven cake. That's a good memory.

The last memory might be my favorite. When I was in middle school, I think, Aunt Karen and Uncle Mike had a cookout of sorts at their home. They were living out in the country then--I can't remember where exactly. At the time lots of their neighbors were Latino and the party was appropriately Latin-themed. That was my first taste of Spanish rice. My first time listening to Spanish music on the radio. Come to think of it, probably my first interaction with anyone who was Latino. I think I love this memory because it exemplifies that she loved people. She loved her family. She loved her neighbors. That's a good memory.

It is difficult to even say the word death. It took me a couple minutes before I could make myself type that sentence. It's like writing it gives some sort of finality to it. I realized yesterday morning, as I was taking in the phone call mom had just made to tell me the news, that I often use the word too carelessly. I don't realize its weight. In reality it is a terrible, heavy, soul-wrenching word. It carries so much emotion. On my drive to work, I listened to Page CXVI sing "In Christ Alone", which is one of my favorite hymns. I've been listening to this song on repeat for the last week or so for whatever reason, and it has been a sweet week of hearing them sing the Gospel to me on my drives to and from work. Yesterday morning I found it especially sweet, but also much weightier than I remembered. The song is about Christ's love for us---how He came here, lived perfectly the messed-up human life that we endure, and died, though he was innocent, for all the ways we fall short...wait, stop here. He died? Jesus died. He breathed his last, his friends grieved, his mother's heart broke, he died. That is weighty. This is where the hymn gets really good:

"There in the ground his body lay
Light of the World by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious day
Up from the grave He rose again!

And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His, and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ!"

I mean, does your heart not swell to hear those words!? That is the good news! "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"(1 Corinthians 15:55) Page CXVI's version of this hymn ends so well with this refrain:

"No guilt in life,
No fear in death,
From life's first cry
To final breath."

A Day with Jesus

An AWESOME video from some friends working at Youth for Christ back home in Rox.  This is great.  (To see fullscreen, watch it here.)

I'm confused...

...My birthday came and went and I still don't have one of these...?