Pages

Thursday, April 28, 2011

I Am The Fire, The Wind, and The Sea


It is 5 o’clock in the morning on a dreary and rainy Thursday.  Normally, I wouldn’t be up right now, much less blogging.  But a few things happened throughout the night that have given me some thoughts.  Instead of trying to go back to sleep amidst all the excitement happening outside right now, I figured that now would be as good a time as any to try to capture those and write them down.
An hour and a half ago, I was sleeping peacefully, and might I say very deeply.  If I thought long and hard about what I was dreaming about, I could probably remember, but it was of nothing significant.  Suddenly, without warning, I was groggily forced back into waking reality as my mom was calling my name.
“Ben, you should unplug your computer in this storm.”
“What?  Oh.  Computer?  What storm?”
“The one outside.”
I was obviously tired and had my mind still in deep sleep as I stood shakily out of bed and crossed the room to my desktop computer and began hastily turning things off and unplugging them from my power stip.  As I became steadily more aware of my surroundings, I noticed deep, far away grumbles of the thunder, roaming throughout the skies accompanied by the random flashes of lightning that would light up my windows.  I quickly climbed back into bed with plans of sleeping through the storm like usual, but God had some different plans.  As I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, I heard the sounds outside becoming increasingly more violent.  The thunder was louder, the lightning more frequent and constant, and the rain pouring.  Then came the wind.  With great strength the wind would buffet the house, the sounds growing more and more high pitched before dying down and starting back up again.  At first, it was just a strong wind, nothing to worry about.  Within minutes though, the wind grew to such a crashing crescendo that I opened my eyes wide.  The pitch kept getting higher as it whistled towards the windows.  Higher, and higher, and higher.  Stronger, and stronger, and stronger.  Soon, the house began to shake and the windows began to creak, yet still the wind grew.  My eyes were now open wide as I watched the light show play through my windows and listened to the wind.  I’m normally good with storms.  In fact, I enjoy storms and will sometimes sit outside to watch them as they go through, but this was one storm where I was actually scared.  Fear gripped my heart as I heard the wind slam into the house with all it’s might.  I began to imagine all the horrible possibilities of the wind breaking the windows and glass come pouring in, lacerating my skin and destroy my possessions.  Or perhaps the wind would carry a small, but heavy object through the wall downstairs, crushing my dad, and in the blink of an eye, change my life.  The wind outside still played it’s symphony of chaos, as I began to pray for safety and strength for the house, for my family, and for everyone around town as they too, assuredly, listened to the wind.  Without warning, the wind died down.  The thunder, lightning, and rain lived on, but for the most part, the wind was over. 
in my few moments of peace, I took myself back to the times of the Disciples.  Luke 8:22 tells the story of the Disciples facing one of their greatest fears, a storm at sea.  You see, some of them were fishermen and were used to being out at sea and reading the weather, turning back to shore when it began to storm.  Being a fisherman must have instilled the fear of the weather in them.  Probably one too many times, they had been caught in a storm, their boat being rocked like a cork amidst the great sea, lightning lighting up the sky and the fear on each other’s faces and thunder crashing all around them.  Storms at sea were nasty, and if anyone knew this, it was the Disciples.  In Luke, the Disciples take a trip from one side of a lake, to the other side, and while on that short trip, a storm, seemingly out of nowhere, catches them all off guard.  Now, these guys had assuredly seen their fair share of bad storms, and were used to storms of that magnitude, but there was something different about this storm.  Luke 23 says that the boat was swamped and they were in great danger.  They were even so afraid that they aroused Jesus (who was sleeping), and trying to be heard above the noise, screamed, “Master, master, we’re going to drown!”  The Bible doesn’t tell us much of what happened next.  In fact, I’ve always been impressed with the way that it handles what happened next.  Verse 24, “He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; the storm subsided, and all was calm. 25 ‘Where is your faith’, he asked the Disciples.”  In my mind, I can see Jesus standing calmly in the rocking boat as He gently waves his hands bringing peace over the climactic weather.  And after the weather begins to subside, He turns around and looks at His Disciples with a, “Seriously?  I mean…really, guys?  C’mon”, look. 
As I laid in bed this morning and thought about this, the end of the story really stood out to me.  After calming the storm and questioning the Disciples on their lack of faith, they look at one another with amazement and wide eyes and say, “Who is this?  He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey Him.”  In my fear and prayer this morning, I realized that God has full control of the storms.  Not only literally, but figuratively.  With a flick of His wrist, He caused the wind to blow that hard this morning, and with a snap of His fingers, allowed it to gently and gradually subside.  Who am I to fear?  Who am I to question God?  Fear is my response to God when I don’t trust what He’s doing.  Who am I to think that my plans are better than His?  Not only does He command the physical weather, but He also commands the weather of our lives.  In good times and bad He’s there seeing us through it.  And with a flick of His wrist he could have all the pain and sorrow of this lifetime go away. 
He doesn’t. 
Let me say that again.
He doesn’t.
Where would the growth and strength come from if during every trying time, He made the problems go away?  How would we not only strengthen our faith in Him, but also the strength and wisdom in ourselves?  In the midst of the storms, in the middle of the pain, the brokenness, the hurt, the anger, the torment, the sorrow, the confusion and frustration, the times that you don’t understand what’s going on, the times that you wish things could swing in your favor for once but they don’t, the times that you look up to the sky and let your heart cry out, “God!  Where are you?” 
He’s there. 
In the middle of the storm, He’s there. 
You’re not alone.  Your God is here.
As the fear quickly subsided inside, and the peace of God took its rightful place in my heart, I began to doze back asleep, praying for safety during the duration of the storm.  It was at this point, that I heard a knock on the door.  3:56 AM.  Give me a break.
“What?”
The door opened and my Mom’s silhouette filtered into my room. 
“Did you hear the tree fall out front?”
“What tree?” 
“The tree right next to the driveway fell down.  You didn’t hear it?”
“Whattt?!”  I began to sit upright at this point.  The first thought that ran through my mind.  My car.  The tree had landed on my car and that was just one more expense that I would have to take care of as I start school in the fall.  “What about the—“
“The cars are okay.  The tree missed your car by a couple feet.  Dad called the borough office and the police and they’re going to be coming by to chop it up.  It’s lying across the whole road and blocking traffic.  One truck almost ran into it already.”   
“…What the heck?”
And right now I’m listening to the sounds of chainsaws and wood choppers out front.  Everything’s going to be okay.  Within an hour or two, the tree will be gone.  My car will be safe.  The house will be safe.  My family will be safe, and I can go into a 10-hour day at work on 2 hours of sleep.  Life is good, but God is greater. 
You’re not alone.
You’re God is here.
My God is with me.
In the middle of the storm, He’s there.
He’s here.

--DyingAnOriginal

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Abstience: Why?

They asked me why I do what I do.
"Ben, why do you not have sex? Why are you still a virgin?"
For a while, the thoughts and same questions have been plaguing my own mind. Why do I do what I do? Or rather, why do I do what I don't? It's taken me a few weeks to finally formulate an answer. Well, one that I like, anyway. I never really liked giving Biblical, "Sunday School" answers. You know, the ones that you were taught to say in Sunday School when you were in elementary and middle school. The teacher would pose a question to you like, "Why is evolution unbiblical?", and after stumbling over your words and stammering, she filled your mouth with words with a straight up answer of, "Genesis 1:1 and John 1:1. You should know this by now, Ben."
I never really liked those moments. I'd rather find my answers for myself. I'm an explorer. Give me a question or something to find out for you, and I WILL find it out. Don't hand feed it to me, but let me experience it on my own. You could tell me to do something the right way, but until my way fails and I experience that failure, I won't do it the right way. I'll just do it my way, thank you. I feel like the world, as non-Christians would not fully understand my Biblical answer about why or why I don't do something.
"Ben, why do you not have sex? Why are you still a virgin?"
"Uhh…because the Bible says so and that's what God wants from me, and I want to honor Him."
"I don't believe in God…"
"Well…"
And that's where the awkward silence of raised eyebrows would come in as they look at me questioningly, waiting for a logical answer to their simple question.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how spiritual it is. The world may not understand my answer, and that's fine. What matters is that I possibly plant a seed or even open up questions for them. What matters is that I believe what I believe. Period. You may not understand it, and it might not make a whole lot of sense, but my beliefs are my own. It no longer becomes important for me to make sense to the world, not seem weird, and to be "safe". What becomes important is that I stand firm in my belief, explain it to the best I can, and pray for the best.
Recently, I came across a band named Prepared Like A Bride. Christian metal band. Good music. But what I can't get over, and this is partly what led me to the epiphany of why I do what I don't do, is the name. Prepared Like A Bride. Prepared Like A Bride. Prepared Like A Bride. Pure and spotless. Holy and set apart. Astonishingly beautiful and breathtaking. Oh how I long to stand at the altar some day and watch in awe, breathless, as I watch my bride-to-be take her first steps down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her father. Writing this now, I feel the grip on my heart. The tug on my emotions. The longing within. Pure and spotless. Astonishingly beautiful and breathtaking. Holy and set apart.
In Revelation 19, we are first exposed to the meeting between Christ, coming down from heaven, and the church, ascending to heaven. In the beginning of Revelation 19, a multitude begins to shout praises and affirmation to God. "He has condemned the great prostitute [Satan] who has corrupted the earth by her adulteries [sin]…Hallelujah…Praise our God all you His servants…" Pretty worshipful stuff, here. Finally, in verse 7 the analogy of the church being the bride of Christ, enters the room. Breathtaking. Commanding awe and wonder. "Let us rejoice and be glad and give Him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear." Later, an angel even invites the writer of Revelation, John, to join in on the wedding reception of this wedding between Christ and his bride, the church. The rest of Revelation 19 and for most of chapter 20 is spent talking about the defeat of Satan by Christ. The end of the world. The ultimate wrath, love, and justice of God being poured out on mankind one last time. In chapter 21, the references pick back up. First, it compares the New Jerusalem that Christ has prepared for the church as the new bride (v. 2). What really gets me here, though, is verse 9. John, still viewing this awesome story laid out before him via vision, sees an angel who says to him, "Come, I will show you the bride [the church, now in heaven], the wife of The Lamb." It is for that very sentence that I choose abstinence, that I choose purity.
Throughout the entire Bible, we see time after time that Christ commands, not only a life of purity, but that man and woman wait for each other. This is most notable in Genesis 1 where it talks about husband and wife leaving parents and joining. Becoming one. In Song of Solomon, we see an epic metaphor of a love affair between a husband and wife being compared to the undying love that Christ has for the church, and the love that we should have for Christ. In the gospels Christ reinstates time after time that to even lust is adultery. Paul follows this concept up throughout the entirety of his Pauline Epistles.
My one desire as a Christian is—or at least needs to be—to be one with Christ. To follow his commands, to keep him holy and imminent in my life, and to make his name, glory, holiness, and love known throughout the entire earth. To be so in tune with Him and connected that my ways are His ways and that His thoughts are my thoughts.
Obviously, if Christ calls me to be pure and I defy that command, that goes against everything I believe and everything I want. That becomes a sin between Christ and I and something that keeps me from becoming one with Him and bringing Him glory in and through my life. So if you ask why I remain abstinent that is the very basic reason. I want to do what Christ wants and I wish to honor Him with my life. Steering away from His holy and perfect plan of purity does not do this, and is therefore something I don't need in my life, and something that keeps me from Him.
On a deeper level, though, I want to be holy and spotless when I am presented to Christ. As the church is the pure and spotless bride of Christ, so my own marriage needs to be pure and spotless and holy before the Lord. Defiling the marriage bed before marriage and going against His plan takes away that purity and paints a stain on that white garment. God's church is pure and spotless. God's bride is pure and spotless. So my marriage needs to be pure and spotless.
On a basic note, though, it's just smarter. With all the STD's and sicknesses running rampant throughout our culture, I don't want to end up with one. I don't want any chance of endangering my wife's health and sanity by sleeping around right now. In turn, I hope and pray that she feels the same. Knowing that my wife has a STD that could potentially infect me would take away a lot from the experience of sex.
I mean, do I even look like I can afford and handle a kid right now?
I want my wedding night, and the rest of my marriage, to be meaningful. I've heard it said multiple times that sex is the glue that holds marriage and love together. Without that sex, and without that glue, it falls apart. How can that glue be strong if it doesn't mean anything? Having sex now takes away exponentially from the true meaning of sharing that experience for the first time with the one person in your entire life who you will have that experience with. The true greatness and happiness of sex diminishes each time, and before you know it, it soon becomes another mundane task. Saving it for marriage helps it to keep some of that shiny lustre. Much like I will undress my wife on our wedding night, so we will finally unwrap the gift of sex together that first night and find a shiny and mysterious gift that we need to experience together.
So with these thoughts, hopes, and prayers in my mind, I press forward. I can't say this journey has been easy, and I can't say that I haven't thought about giving in. In fact, I think about what I could gain by giving in right now fairly often. But in the end, what really matters and what really lasts are the choices that I make in the heat of the moment.
Walk with me.

--DyingAnOriginal