Prove It.

The other night, I was driving home after spending time with some believers, and the tiredness started to sink in. I guess you'd even call it a happy sort of tired, or contented exhaustion. And it hit me, that in a sense God's making me eat my own words by having me carry out a challenge I issued to other Christians a while back. About a year and a half ago, I wrote a post called "Burnout?" addressing the idea that's become pretty prevalent in our generation, that spreading yourself too thin will result in your being worn down to the point you become useless. I made some pretty bold statements in that post, but they were founded on Scripture.

And so, rather than letting me set things forth on principle and leave it at that, it seems God has asked me, "Prove it." So there's the answer to the vague question that's been hanging around in my head for the last few months about why my life is so hectic and outright busy these days, and why it just won't seem to let up. Towards the end of last Spring semester, as finals were approaching and I was working to finish and revise final papers and portfolios and other such fun college assignments, I thought (with a decent amount of dread), "And, it's not about to slow down one bit." And it hasn't. I went from wrapping up the school semester to working full time for a few weeks, to being gone to Mexico for five weeks (which was also fairly non-stop), to coming back to preparations for my sister's wedding, to a week-long trip with the youth group, to arriving back in Memphis just in time to rush to the airport to pick up the photographers, go straight to rehearsal dinner, and the next day was the actual wedding. Then, I went back to working full-time for the rest of the summer (roughly a month), had a brief respite of a long weekend visiting relatives and a friend in Atlanta, and just as this semester started a death in the family took me out of state for a funeral in the middle of the first week of class. I'd say things are finally starting to settle into routine, but this next week my schedule shifts yet again to accommodate training that will last most of this month, and after that I honestly don't know what happens.

Life, in a word, has been busy. But although the pressure of a packed schedule tends to bring out hidden abilities to somehow get everything (or close to it, at least) done, I don't thrive well off of sheer busyness. I don't particularly like sitting still, but just running all the time wears on me and makes me start to suffocate. When I don't have time for people, I feel as though I'm not really living; just existing in a blur of wasted efforts. Because people, they matter. Grades don't. Money doesn't. Sleep, is worth less (but that one is actually somewhat necessary for life).

So here I am in the midst of much busyness, much constant strain and wear and tear on body, mind, and soul. And it's seldom easy. And I've thrown my share of pity parties bemoaning the fact that life shows no sign of slowing down anytime soon. And I've walked through many, many days (including pretty much the entirety of that youth trip and even my sister's wedding) feeling like I was running on empty, like I had absolutely nothing left within me to offer to those around me. But do you know what happened because of it? I had no choice but to fully rely upon God for strength, energy, words, and everything else. It was that, or collapse in a heap somewhere and completely give up. But I knew my God is strong even when I'm weak and depleted. And He proved Himself as exactly that, and I watched again and again as He used my weakness to demonstrate His strength.

I'm still watching Him do it. Because I still, so often, just feel tired. But do you know, our God never gets tired; He's never weary, never sleeps, never ceases to watch over us and to work all things according to His design. He does not faint, but He increases our strength when we have none to call our own.

So if I have to keep on living this out, I'll do it gladly. Because there's no greater joy than following His lead and watching Him move in this earth, even just in the simple things like carrying me past exhaustion. There's nothing like relying on Him when you know you have nothing in yourself to lean on. And there's nothing better than watching Him use even the frailest vessel to show forth His perfect strength.

An Open Letter to Switchfoot

{First off, let me state simply that although the term "open letter" bears the connotation (due to  a long history) of being political-type tools for sparking debates--that is not what I intend this to be. In fact, that's far from my intent with this open letter. Rather, this is partially me striving to walk out what I talk about, and partially me attempting to counteract a cycle of criticism and attack when it comes to us Christians and what we believe vs. what we think our brothers or sisters believe. I'm not saying that rebuke and correction are wrong--they are most certainly a necessary part of doing life together and pressing one another closer to Christ--but there is also a time and a place for encouragement and exhortation. More often than you might think, correction and encouragement even go hand-in-hand. As for me, this letter is meant more as a public thank-you than a critique.}

Dear Switchfoot (a.k.a. Jon, Tim, Jerome, Chad, and Drew),

Guys, I just want to say thank you for sticking it out and continuing on a road that I know hasn't always (or ever?) been easy for all these years. Thank you for your unashamed honesty and vulnerable transparency through your music, interviews, concerts, etc. I haven't seen Fading West yet, but a couple days ago I was blessed to be able to see you in concert for the first time, here in Memphis. It was an awesome time, and more encouraging than I feel able to put into words. I've been listening to your music for the past ten or so years, and God's really used it at so many points in my life--sometimes to encourage, sometimes to convict, almost always to sharpen my focus on things. There is perhaps no more vulnerable position to be in than to pour out your heart to people who don't know you, to put your art out there where anyone can see/hear it, where more than a few can (and have) come away with a wrong impression of what you're striving to communicate. Thank you for being persistent in putting yourselves outside your comfort zones and daring to continue to be honest in your lives and your music.

I've listened to a lot of bands/artists over the years, but I have to say Switchfoot holds a unique role in my journey. The first song of y'all's I ever heard was "Dare You to Move," and when you played that one at the concert it took me back to so many moments it's been instrumental in--from the comforting and peaceful effect it had as the only familiar song coming over the radio to a nervous twelve-year-old in a doctor's office, to various moments waking up to it during high school and reminding me that "Today never happened before." I can't tell you how many times any one of your songs has pushed me to think through things more intentionally.

And I have to tell you that it hasn't always resulted in a better stance on my part. I must admit that for a season (specifically after I first bought and listened to Nothing Is Sound) I was really disheartened by your music, because it felt like you were emphasizing so much the darkness and the disconnect, the things so wrong with this world we live in--that you didn't have enough emphasis on the hope that exists on the flip-side of all that. I felt letdown, in a way (no pun intended), because it seemed to me that y'all had gotten overly cynical. At that point in my life, letdowns like that felt irreversible; I was under the impression that once someone I respected started to show signs of faltering, it was only the beginning of an inevitable, downward spiral.

But you see, that is exactly why you guys ended up with this unique and special role. I can't remember specifically which song or album I was listening to, but the moment still stands out in my memory, alone in my backyard with a portable CD player and a pair of headphones, gazing up into a starry sky and expressing to God my feelings disappointment. And He responded. He answered my despair with a gentle, loving rebuke: "So pray for them." It was no audible voice, and not even something that can necessarily completely fit into words, but He impressed on my heart that night a glimpse into the reality He has since been leading and training me in, that my position is not that of a helpless bystander, and that my job is not merely to applaud or disapprove of anyone else's actions (or music). That night was when God first started teaching me not to give up on people.

So I kept listening to Switchfoot. And I kept praying. And this has been one of the most significant instances in my life that I can point to and testify that prayer doesn't just change who or what you're praying for; it changes you. And more often than not, it's been my heart that needs to change, moreso than the circumstances I'm praying about. That's been the story of this journey with my encounter(s) with your music. I admit, I've been arrogant at times, judged myself capable of knowing where y'all's hearts were at through hearsay and a handful of song fragments; thinking I could guess your motives when I heard about your "going mainstream" and facing much of the same fierce debate and criticism Lecrae is presently wading through. But over and over again, God kept pressing me back to my knees about it. I didn't know exactly what I was praying for, what it would look like if and when those prayers were answered; I just knew that I wasn't allowed to throw my hands up and walk away. I knew that even when I didn't agree with every line of every song (and to be honest, there are still some I disagree with), it was not left to me to frown, condemn, and turn away.

Why? Because y'all are my brothers. 

I may not know you, may never have a conversation with any of you, but I am bound to you with blood that runs thicker than any merely-human blood ever could. Even if we don't see completely eye-to-eye on everything, even if we have completely different lifestyles and schedules and routines, we're all following the same King. We're all learning to walk out His love more truly day by day, seeing more and more clearly that, indeed, "Love alone is worth the fight." We're all learning to see ourselves and others more like He sees us and less like the world does. We're all in this thing together.

So thank you. Thank you for being honest in a world that pushes for fake images...for daring to walk a path of risk and adventure and discomfort...for pouring your hearts and lives out night after night to share your songs with strangers and friends alike...for demonstrating love in the face of animosity...for being humble in your honesty and down-to-earth in your presentation...for directing the loudest applause toward someone else...for speaking (and singing) the truth in love. After all these years, I have to say you guys have proven yourselves and your message by how you have walked it all out. Keep changing the world, one step, one song, one smile at a time. And know that I'm still in your corner, and still praying for you. Keep living it out!

For His glory,
-Kala