Use Your Words

I'm a words person (and many friends can attest, wordy as well). Surprised? Then you may not know me very well yet. I've been putting things into words pretty much as long as I can remember...even back when I had no idea you were supposed to put space between the letters of separate words. Trying to decipher entries in the first journal of this historically-awful speller, with no spaces and very little concept of punctuation? Hilarious. But if that's what beginnings I come from, I know there's hope for anyone to grow in the giftings and talents God has designed them for.

Recently God's been bringing back up a lot of things I would've thought I'd already learned. You know how sometimes you "know" something but then find your situation where it's like you're realizing it all over again, but for the first time? There always seems to be deeper to go. And I forget that sometimes. Sometimes the student in me mentally checks topics off a list as if having the head knowledge is enough to equip me to handle any given situation. Well, unlike academia, real life doesn't so much work that way. 'Cause when you're in the middle of all the craziness and know what you should do, how things are supposed to ideally happen or be different...somehow the knowing doesn't always translate so smoothly as it would on paper.

Sometimes my words fail. There have been so many moments in my short-ish life that I will never be able to encapsulate in nouns or verbs or adjectives--not even with the best adverbs or sentence structures. The past few days--three in a row, man! It's crazy--have left me floored all over again at the immensity and the precision of a God who is so very much vaster than I'll ever know. And see, I've "known" that--I've known He's bigger than my puny mind can grasp. I've heard and read and witnessed Him do things I never could have come up with, even with the crazy imagination that lurks in this space and is constantly dragging me off into the whackiest and most outrageous adventures and fox trails. I've reminded myself He's big and awesome and mighty. But there is something infinitely different in dwelling on checked-off knowledge, and seeing the truth behind it explode into action before your eyes.

It started, like so many stories of my life have, with the same old frustration: seeing something not as it should be, knowing the right answer (at least to a degree), and being frustrated because my "knowing" didn't elicit immediate transformation. Somewhere around a decade ago, a similar frustration brought me to a series of moments weeping in my bed as the reality of who God is--that all these things I'd "known" about Him were actually true--broke into my desperation and provided the actual answer to what I'd technically "known" for a long time already. That He wasn't far off; He was near. He is near. As near as the invisible bunches of oxygen you pull into your lungs in this very moment.

A little while back, a realization hit me hard enough to leave me breathless for quite a while. A song by Shane and Shane was randomly playing in my head, and the line "Your nearness is to us our good" suddenly collided with a verse that's been tucked into my memory since I had to memorize it in grade school: Romans 8:28--"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose." Do you see it? God causes all things to work together for our good, and our ultimate good is not found in some idealistic set of circumstances; it's found in Him--the One we were created for, the One with whom we're designed and hard-wired for fellowship with. That's the good He's working all things together towards. He's drawing us to Himself.

So, back to my recent frustration: Recent situations, one right after another it felt, kept tearing me open at spots where my heart was coming out and it was not pretty. It was repulsive. It wasn't what I ever want my heart to look like, and it was coming out at people, and it was not okay. And I knew that. And I was trying to fight it, but somehow all my knowledge about the state of things was not fixing stuff. I identified the problems, and among them was the gaping lack of His heart for people around me. And I prayed, and I texted my sister and asked her to pray about one situation in particular where my nasty heart was really coming forth. I did all I could think to do to combat it, to force myself into the right state of mind and heart. But it didn't feel like anything was working.

Enter time with some dear, wonderful young women I have the privilege and opportunity to do life with. Suddenly catching up turned into confession, and I was messily spilling forth my observations of my obstinate, ugly heart which as of late had been reluctant if not completely unwilling to channel His heart for people. And in the midst of that conversation, where I found I wasn't the only broken one or the only one struggling, and where each of us began to speak words of encouragement and wisdom and truth into one another's circumstances--another checked-off truth came to the foreground: WE NEED EACHOTHER. I thought I knew that. I've taken notes often enough--right?--about how God uses us in other people's lives? About how He has chosen to dwell with us and in us, and that's us not just me. I haven't been completely oblivious or ignorant in this arena.

But I tell you, no matter how many times I've been in a room with someone and sin has been confessed and the truth has been applied with genuine love and the inhuman strength of grace--that night left me awed of our God who is working in and through us, and thankful to be able to know and cherish these ladies and have opportunities like this to bare our hearts before one another and let His grace do surgery in our midst. Not than anything or everything necessarily changed over night, but there is such strength in having teammates willing to stand by you and push you to press on and support your weight when you're out of stamina.

Fast-forward to last night, when the Holy Spirit wrecked Wednesday-night youth service in the best possible way. Hearts were pierced, challenges uttered, bold steps taken to follow a road of surrender. It was worship. It was worship for those who spoke what God was laying on their hearts to say, and it was worship for those of us listening to that outflow. It was worship when we broke into groups and prayed over one another. We were worshiping the God of broken hearts, the God who is here in the right now and is walking with us through every moment, every situation, every battle. We were worshiping the God who created every single soul there for a purpose, to know Him, and that He will make Himself known through us and through our lives. A dear sister turned to me and spoke words I had no idea I needed to hear, words that sank deep and shook me to the core and broke me with renewed humility and awe at who God is and what He is doing and how He uses what is flawed for His glory. Words that made the tears flow from these eyes that only ever seem to be moved to such by the very deepest or most sudden and uncontrollable emotions.

The echoes of those words along with so many other shock waves from a refreshed heart taken two steps deeper into the infinite ocean of knowing Him, reverberated in my head and soul today. Work, though draining as usual, was tinged with joy and peace that had been a bit absent there as of late. Because my soul was beholding afresh the wonderful knowledge that He is here.

Earlier tonight I sat in a room as a bunch of friends from campus took turns sharing songs that were special or important or beautiful to them. And I was on the list of "performers." Many of us (myself included) hadn't had much or any time to invest in practicing what we wanted to share, but it was an atmosphere of laid-back enjoyment and encouragement and soft-spoken grace and cheering one another on and just plain sharing life, sharing pieces of our lives through songs, even when many of the songs were written by someone else. Nobody had to earn anything. Nervousness was soothed and wrong frets ignored; it wasn't about the performance but about the sharing.

And isn't that what we're still on this earth for? If it was an individualistic thing of God getting ahold of one heart and another, wouldn't it be just as well for us to vanish straight into the fullness of His presence rather than having to continue to live in a broken and fragmented world where it's often harder to see Him? We're not here for ourselves; I'm not here for my sake any more than you are here for yours. We were meant for fellowship, not just with God, but with eachother.

And our gifts are not for ourselves either. Right around the time I picked guitar back up and started taking it a little seriously, and around the time I started tentatively stepping into songwriting, God confronted me on my desire to hoard it to myself. Not that it was that good--the exact opposite was the very reason I wanted to keep my playing and singing and songs locked away in my room to be just between me and Him with no one overhearing. I remember clearly the first time He pressed me to share a song with somebody, and to my push-back He lovingly and a little sarcastically told me it wasn't for me--that anything He'd given me was not for my own enjoyment behind locked doors. Even back then, He was drawing shy, tentative little me out of myself into community, into fellowship. He was teaching me--and still is--that I didn't have to have some great or fantastic thing to offer, but that He wanted to use my fumbling attempts.

So tonight I found myself sharing two songs that mean something real to me; that both came from a place of desperation to see God move in the lives of people around me, and that He has since on many, many occasions used to break me with the reminder I need Him to move in my life as well. Knowing Him is so not a checklist. Every truth I think I know keeps getting opened  and reopened to reveal new and greater depths. I'm not finished yet. More importantly, He's not finished with me yet. Nor is He finished with you.

I started this post off talking about my relationship with words. The title comes from the image I'm about to share with you...in words. (Surprised?) In that conversation last Tuesday, my confessions shed light on the reasons my heart was the way it was, chief of which was that I had been trying to do a lot of things in my own strength, acting as if it all relied on me and my behavior or anything I could do or control. Reality check: none of it does. All the sudden I felt like a little kid dragging a heavy backpack around by the stretched-out strap. Have you ever seen a small child hand something small like a toy to a parent and ask them to carry it for them? Sometimes we need more childlike faith. Sometimes I'm lugging around the very real stuff God's placed me in the midst of, acting like I have to be strong enough to handle it as I walk beside my Father, rather than looking up at Him and honestly saying, "This is too heavy for me. I don't want to carry it. I can't carry it."

He's a good Father. He delights in carrying our weights for us, delights in us trusting Him with our breakables and our unbearables alike; His burden is easy and His yoke is light. He invites us to share in His sufferings, but the ultimate purpose in even that is for us to know Him more and trust Him to carry the load and do the work, because we can't. I can't. Trust me. Yesterday, this word-girl typed out two or three paragraph-sized posts before hitting backspace until I concluded I just couldn't sum it up. I still probably can't. This has been my attempt, but words can only ever get so far. One of the most irksome things about writing is the reality that words don't always work and they're not actually fully capable of describing or depicting everything. But it's also one of the most beautiful things about writing, because in this like in so many other areas, we see the foreshadowing of the deeper reality that our God is so much bigger than we will ever fully wrap our minds around.

So here I was tonight, feeling like that toddler as it all welled up inside me and I didn't know how to express it. And like the patient, tender, courage-infusing Father He is, God seemed to whisper, "Use your words." These words, these gifts, these flailing attempts to get an idea from inside me to inside you--they're not for me. I love words and I love using them, but I wasn't created to write to myself any more than you were created to only smile at yourself. Go share that smile. Spill your guts to someone who may not fully understand (but you'd be surprised how often people actually do), but who will face your mess with Jesus even if they don't have any more answers than you do as to what steps forward are going to look like. Go ask someone how they're doing and really mean it, and listen long enough to get to the answer. Shoot someone a text to tell them why you're thankful for them.  Pray for someone the way you'd want somebody to pray for you. We're not alone and we never will be. Ask God to show you ways to use what He's given you to bless and encourage and strengthen another member of His Body. Because we're all in this together This earth may not be home, but it's where a good chunk of our family is, so let's love eachother well and remember that not one of us is a self-sufficient island.

WE NEED EACHOTHER.

Over and out,
-Kala

Notes on Music, Part 2: What Prayer Has to Do with It

I feel like I'm more or less stumbling through this series on music and worship. Despite my attempts to plan out the order of what to bring up when and how to arrange the topics of all that's been welling up within me and germinating for so long, it seems I just have to take things one step at a time and let it build upon itself as I go. Left to myself, I'd be prone to wander off and leave it unfinished, but God's not letting me off the hook with this one, and He keeps pressing things on my heart which inevitably force themselves out through typed words on a screen.

Words like prayer. 

I don't know what connotation that word has for you, but for me it pulls at the corners of my eyes and mouth as it stirs up memories of thousands of moments over the past few years of my life in which God has drastically altered and deepened my perspective on what prayer is, where its purpose lies, and why it's important. It's been a journey (one I'm more than a little certain is still far from over). Among all those moments that trace it are sprinkled tears...laughter...fear...joy...anguish...wonder...trust...timid faith...surrender...confidence...uncertainty...desperation...expectancy...awe...and triumph (and probably a lot more descriptors/emotions, but you get the idea). 

So what is prayer? The simplest definition is that it's a conversation. And I know I can't be the only one who's ever convinced myself with my flawed reasoning that there's no need to pray because God already knows what you're thinking, what you've done, and what will happen. It's true, He's all-knowing and fully aware of all that (so often much more aware than we even are). So maybe some other terminology will help clarify: prayer is communion. I know, I know--that's a religious term. But I think it gets to the heart of the matter a little better. See, prayer is more than just words. Sometimes prayer has no words; sometimes it's an internal groaning or longing or a song in your soul that can't even be put into melody. Sometimes it's an expression of things only He can understand. Sometimes it's a plea, sometimes a praise.

Prayer is where your heart, mind, and soul collide with God's. 

 So what does prayer have to do with worship? Everything. Prayer is worship. The point of prayer, ultimately, is worship. Because when your heart is laid bare before the One who made it, when you get a glimpse into His heart for you or for someone else, it results in worship. When you pour your thoughts out to Him and let His Word change the way you think and the way you reason, it inevitably drives you to a deeper adoration of the One whose thoughts will always be higher than yours. When your soul is engaged in His mission on this earth, your will surrendered to His, your eyes watching for His promises to be fulfilled--you experience His greatness on a deeper level, and it produces worship. 

Prayer changes things. I serve a God who is perfectly capable to do absolutely whatever He wants and who doesn't have to include us in any way at all to do it. And yet He chose to let us take part in His work. He didn't have to. He is perfectly able to be God. He's good at it. So good at it that He chose to work in this world in a way that no one but Him would ever have even considered. I mean, seriously, would you give somebody a job to do when you already knew they didn't have the ability to carry it out? Would you hire a preschooler as a college professor? A high-school dropout as a foreign diplomat? A teenage pop singer as a war general? We as people look for the most highly qualified to fill a position. But God takes a position only He can fill--the role of representing Him in this earth--and chooses to use broken, helpless human beings who are utterly incapable of doing anything without Him (He supplies us with the very air we breathe, for crying out loud!). Are we a perfect representation of what He's like? Not even close. Which is how we become an even more perfect demonstration of who He is. 

You see, if I could be perfect by my own willpower or ability or know-how, I wouldn't need to know God, much less depend on Him. If being His representative on this earth meant that I never failed or faltered or in any way fell short of His excellence, nobody would ever see His power, His glory, or His redemption. Because if that were the case, people wouldn't see Him; they'd just see me, being perfect. If I never wronged anyone, no one would be able to glimpse God changing my heart and causing me to come back to them asking forgiveness. If my feelings were never hurt by another's words or actions, no one would see the fingerprint of His forgiveness in my life. If I never failed, no one would see the story of His grace in my life, redeeming my failures and proving God's might in my life as He enables me to overcome. If I never had to wrestle with sin, there would be no victory over it. And if I could walk this life out perfectly all by myself, nobody would ever glimpse the incredible beauty of the Church as one Body made up of many members and parts, working together, forgiving one another, helping each other, serving one another as we all serve Him.

Prayer emphasizes our dependence on God. It reminds our souls of their position: unworthy but loved, helpless but empowered by His Spirit, finite in the presence of the One who is infinite, broken but in the hands of the One who makes all things new. It reminds us Whose we are, draws us to worship, and sets our lives on a trajectory of accomplishing His will in this earth. 

Ever notice how often praying for God to change someone or something around you more often results in Him changing you? In a way that's central to much of what I have to say in upcoming posts. When we hear terms like revival or think of God's intentions for this world, we have a tendency to think in terms of others. We zoom out to a larger scale, of how much better life would be if other people would conform to His will. What we (myself very much included) so often fail to consider is the fact that when it comes down to it, no one really wants to be left on the sidelines as an onlooker while all the action happens, do we? If everyone around you experienced the transforming power of the Gospel in ways that turned their lives upside down in the best possible way and sent them running hard after God, living for His glory...would you want to be on the outside looking in? I know I don't. I want to be in the middle of the action. And that's where all of us--each and every one of us, if you call yourself by His Name--are meant to be.

We get to participate in His plans for this world and how they play out. 

God didn't give you a front-row seat to the big game. He chose you to play on His team. It's not all about you, nor is it meant to be, but you are meant to be a part of it. And that too, should lead us straight into worship of the One whom it is all about. 

Prayer increases faith. When you ask God to do something, you're also placing your dependence on Him. You're placing your trust in His ability to cause everything in your life to work together for your good and His glory in the end. You're placing your hope in His love and faithfulness. You're placing your faith in Him even when you can't wrap your mind around how things could possibly work out. You're submitting your will to His and acknowledging that He knows better than you do how things should go. The more your heart and mind gradually become transformed to look more like His, the more your prayers will start to look like His (yes, God Himself prays for you.). And when you see prayer answered? It leads to worship. 

It feels appropriate to finish this post with a song, yet again. Not sure if this will become a pattern for this series, but this song pretty well sums up the desire and purpose of our hearts being made to look more like our King's:

Entering the Battle (Notes on Music: Part 1)

I mean that title. But before I get into it, let me tell you what I don't mean by it. I don't mean I'm looking for trouble or I'm planning to be antagonistic about all this. I don't mean I'm wanting to start some kind of debate. By nature, I am a shy, sheepish person who doesn't particularly like stirring up hornets' nests. But beneath the surface there is a fire, a burning passion that somehow can't sit still and watch all the time, and leave things the way they are. I'm aware that some of the things I have to say in upcoming posts are not going to be popular, and they might make you feel uncomfortable, or offended, or uncertain. I'm not asking you to agree with every word I say or every facet of opinion I hold regarding art or music or the music industry or even our culture. You don't have to agree with me. In fact, you don't even have to read it.

But I have to write it. I have to write it because it has been welling up inside me for so long and the dam's about to break if I try to put it off longer. I have to write it because I can't keep silent any longer, because there is a battle going on over this and because this battle I've been fighting silently for years now is surfacing, and the same God who at other times has miraculously enabled me to keep my mouth shut is now opening it. I honestly still don't feel like I'm ready for this, but perhaps I need that edge of incapability to force me to approach this humbly and not with arrogance.

Now let me explain a little more about the battle aspect. As KJ52 put it in a song, "See, the battle's for souls, and we['re] on the front lines." When it all boils down, the heart of the matter is not our music or our taste or our opinions; it's about a war that's been waging longer than any of us have been alive, and the victories in that battle take place when the God of the universe brings people from death into life. It's not about our music. But it influences our music, and music can play a role in this battle. Part of the reason this topic is so close to my heart is how influential music has been in my own story of God bringing me from death into life.

Music communicates. It does so differently than other modes of communication: it's not always as clear as writing or as straightforward as speaking. On some levels, music is its own language, conveying moods, ideas, themes, feelings, and heart-cries even when there are no words accompanying it. It serves a function, because there aren't always words, and sometimes our words need something to drive them home to the listener's heart. And music can do that.

God created music for a reason. And at the core of that reason is the same purpose He created everything else for: His glory. Because He needs stars and planets and people and all of creation testifying to his goodness to make Him feel secure in His position? No. Because He is that good. Because He is the only One worthy of such worship; nothing and no one else compares to Him, nor ever will.

If we're going to get into talking about things like love and God's glory and worship, we may need to pause here to bring up something that is at once impossible to fully explain or comprehend for our finite minds, but which is central and crucial to the why and the how of it all: the Trinity. You cannot fully explain or understand the love of God if you don't understand this truth about who He is: that He Himself sets the example of love not being self-seeking (1 Cor. 13). God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit: One God. I know, on the surface it makes about as much sense as your math teacher telling you 3=1. But then again, it's not the only time the Bible defies our math textbooks: He also said that husband and wife become "one flesh" (2=1), remember?

So the moral of the story is to throw away your algebra book, because it obviously doesn't line up with what the Bible teaches, right? (Friends who are math majors--please don't stone me for saying that!) Of course not. The Bible is full of math. The point here both is and isn't the math. It is, because the Trinity (and marriage, for that matter) stands out as a stark reminder to us that our God is much, much bigger and greater than we will ever be able to fully know. That's why He's God, and we're not. I for one don't have the capacity to keep the earth spinning around the sun, hold every molecule together, and orchestrate the events and interwoven stories and struggles of every person on this earth in this moment. I can't even fully grasp all that He is at work in, from sunsets to flowers to providing birds with food to eat.

Back to the Trinity: this is the epitome of love that seeks another's gain. The Father, Son, and Spirit have been in constant unity and fellowship since before time began. The Father's love for the Son and the Spirit, the Son's love for the Spirit and the Father, the Spirit's love for the Father and the Son...who can adequately describe it? See, God's not after His own glory for the sake of making a name for Himself; His Name already stood, unshakably and undeniably, long before He made anything to testify of it. Everything that exists finds its purpose in proclaiming His glory, because He is more glorious than even all creation's worship can proclaim. He is greater than all we see, all we have seen, all we ever will.

"For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen." 

-Romans 11:36

This is at the heart of the battle that started when a created being who was not worthy of such worship, tried to claim God's glory as his own. Captivated by his own light, he rebelled against its Source: the One who had made him and given him everything he was, everything he had, everything he was now trying to elevate above his Maker. Lucifer fell, along with all who followed him. And the story could have ended there, before this world knew the sting of death and the pain of sin. But there was a greater glory that would not have been seen or known or even guessed at, had God stomped out Satan when he first rebelled. As Switchfoot put it, "The shadow proves the sunshine." The darkness is itself evidence of the light's existence, and that there is something standing between that light and the patch of ground that's shaded. But darkness always loses out to the light. 

There was a greater glory to be displayed in our God's faithfulness to people who also rebelled against Him, who ran from Him, who failed time and again (ahem, still do) to see and sing of His glory. He has proven Himself stronger than our darkness in His ability to call us "into His marvelous light," so that we may proclaim His greatness and His glory. 

The greater glory is known as the Gospel. The good news. The fulfilled promise, that our God did not leave us as orphans, that He did not leave us broken, empty, chasing the tails of our own glory. This is the fulfillment of what we were created for: to know and to sing of the glory of the One who made us. The greater-ness of our God, who overcomes everything that would stand between Him and accomplishing His purposes in this earth to display the greater glory.

And this is the battle. And music plays a part. In the posts that follow this one, I'm not going to claim what all music should or should not look like. But I'm also not going to pull any punches and say that "art for art's sake" is okay. The purpose of our music, just like the purpose of our lives, should be the praise of His glory. And there's not one set way to do that. But we'll get into all that at a later date. =) For now, I leave you with this song to ponder how much bigger our God is than we will ever fully understand. 

Speaking the Truth in Love

Oh, if you could but see the drafts of blog posts I have scattered in between ones I've actually published on here, on the topic I now find myself preparing to step into. One dates back to almost two years ago, when I had it on my heart, but after starting to write, found that the time was not yet right for me to speak up. Ever have those moments, where you have your two-cents'-worth ready to throw out there, but it seems like God sort of clears His throat and tells you, "Not yet"? And no matter how much you really want to say something, you know He's right and His timing is best, and that it wouldn't be walking in obedience to Him to go on with what you were about to say...Yeah, that's about where I've been on this topic for the past two or three years now. I haven't been silent for lack of an opinion, though there's definitely also been some wading through things and some research and a LOT of prayer going into it.

See, this is something that I am incredibly passionate about, and have been for just about as long as I can remember. And because it hits so very close to home for me, it's been a real struggle at times to keep my mouth shut and my fingers still. Most of the time, it doesn't really come up in everyday conversation that much, but even when the opportunity has presented itself, there have been so many moments where I've been chomping at the bit but God has (very wisely) held me back. And at the time, I don't think I ever understood why He was having me wait. But, as usual, hindsight reveals things with so much more clarity, and I now know it's because this crazy heart of mine had to be worked on (a. lot.) before I could say what I wanted to. Why? Because while my mouth was so ready to spout my opinion, my heart was not in the right place. And that's where this post comes in.

As I confessed in my last post, for quite a while I suffered from a judgmental-ness that kept me from acknowledging God's ability to move on other people's hearts. So He had to show me by moving on mine. He had to show me a glimpse of His heart, to help me see beyond the legalistic boxes and categories I wanted to place things--and people--into. See, it doesn't take much to speak the truth. Anyone can do it, really, whether they believe it or not (more on that coming in a later post, I'm sure). Trouble is, when you try to separate truth from love, you usually wind up with something that doesn't really look much like truth, because it's only a broken off piece of the Truth. Ever heard someone take a Bible verse out of context? The verse is still true, but snatched out of its context, it can be distorted to where it somehow seems to communicate something it's never meant. It's the same with the truth, with fact.

Take one portion of truth--let's say, for example, the truth that "God is love" (1 John 4)--and remove it from its context (namely, the description of what love is in 1 Corinthians 13 or in 1 and 2 John, or that it's a fruit of the Spirit [Galatians 5:22] or how essential it is in the Christian's life as seen in Ephesians, etc.)...and you've got room to start twisting it any way you like. Leave out the context and the defining that context offers to this statement, and you can start warping "God is love" to mean that God is a cozy or satisfying feeling or that, if He's love, He obviously somehow can't hate anything (*cough* sin). See what I mean? With its context (the rest of the Bible), the statement "God is love" is made that much clearer because it's demonstrated and shown and defined in and by the rest of the Truth. More than that, the rest of the Truth speaks to confront misconceptions and correct them. (God does hate sin.)

So now let's talk about love. Real love doesn't puff itself up, doesn't say, "Hey! Look at me!" Why? Because love is being focused on someone else, to the exclusion of yourself and your own desires and even needs. Love doesn't envy or boast--why? Because it's not wrapped up in itself, comparing self with others or wanting another to be lower so it can be higher. Love seeks after what's best for another. That doesn't mean love wants someone else to always have their way and get everything they want, because in the case of us humans, that would not be, or result in, what's best for us. Love wants what God wants for others. Why? Because God is Love.

(And if you're looking at your screen right now with a confused frown, questioning with, "Wait, I thought you just said love is being focused on what somebody else wants"--this is where part of the awesome mystery and marvel known as the Trinity comes into play. Take a gander at John 17 for a peek into that as Jesus talks to the Father. Jesus is always focused on glorifying the Father who is always focused on exalting His Son who is always focused on the Holy Spirit having His way, who is always drawing the attention to the Father and the Son. It's mind-blowing, but such a beautiful expression of what "God is love" means. But I'll stop with that tangent for now.)

So when Paul tells us in Ephesians chapter 4 that we as Christians are to speak the truth in love as we grow into Christ together--what does that mean? It means I speak the truth to you in patience and kindness, not arrogantly. It means I don't speak the truth to you in order to put you down or try to elevate myself. It means I don't speak the truth to you without caring about you (rudely). It means I don't speak the truth to you out of selfish ambition (to manipulate you into doing what I want or to promote myself). It means I don't get to insist on having my own way, and I don't get to use the truth to try to make that happen. It means I don't speak the truth to you because I'm grumpy or irritated or am harboring resentment towards you. It means that I don't get to rejoice in your being wrong and my being right, even if that's the case. It means I don't just tell you the truth, but I rejoice with you in that truth. It means that when I speak the truth to you, I am ready to bear everything alongside you rather than leave you to go it alone. It means I have to believe in that truth with you, and stand with you to endure whatever you may face. It means I don't get to tell you something and move on with my life. It means we're in this together. It means that if I'm going to speak the truth to you, I have to be committed to loving you, regardless of how you respond to what I say.

Discovering that has been the journey I've been on for quite a while now--the journey I had to travel before I could be ready to open my mouth about the things coming up in future posts here...Stay tuned. And while you're waiting, dig in deep and ask God to teach you how to love in truth and how to speak the truth in love. We all need to keep learning that one.

Until next time,
-Kala