Thailand Travels

Hey friends,

This is it! The place that will weekly be holding updates from our 8 week trip to Thailand. Keep checking back to make sure you're not missing a thing!

Pray for us! It's gonna be a rough, but WONDERFUL ride.

Thanks,

Chey Lynn

The elaborate facade

There are those times. The times when I deliberately choose to pick up a mask; with a singular expression affixed to its hollow surface. And in a sweeping rush of color, emotion and verse I attempt to deliver a convincing performance of sincerity. Suppose I succeed. Though most often the display only proves to clue my audience in to the utter transparency of my brokenness.

But there is a practice in which my talents are far superior to this. It is the art of self-deception.

This farce runs so deeps, that it slips unnoticed by my sense of self-awareness. Its own creation of false logic nestles in place next to absolute truth and irrefutable evidence. In one hand it holds justification, and in the other...a sword to challenge any avenger of lost perspective. From its mouth it shrieks claims of its partnership with the Spirit of God. The sweet, sickly secretions from its pores whisper of false comfort and peace.

My sweet Jesus: In a futile attempt at forcing life's circumstances into the confines of a sugar-coated capsule, I have tried to take the reigns of control for my life. With only myself to blame as the scapegoat for failings and undesirable outcomes, I actually convinced myself that I was protecting you. I lost sight of your majesty and beauty, in my fictitious pursuit of normalcy.

And yet even in the most elaborate facade, your truth radiates blindingly through the night. I give back to you that which has actually never eluded your grasp.

Acting like a little child.

A dear friend of mine has a precious little two-year old daughter. Recently their family underwent a massive change. Their typically obedient little one began to rebel against bedtime. My friend described how one night, they had to be consistent in their returning her to her bed for over two hours.

With this change, this little one needed to know something. Were things still the same? Can I get away with this? And the biggest one...how will Daddy respond?

While being severely tested, daddy lovingly and firmly stayed true until she finally decided that things were indeed still in order.

I think I've been doing this with God. With change, shift and heartache, I'm desperate to know that things are still the same. Even in my failings, rather than rise above them, I find myself owning them. Wearing them. Clutching them tightly to my chest. As if to say to God "You love me? Well, how about now? Don't you see this!?"

In a not-so-subtle attempt to gain our attention and love, children will sometimes run away from us, grinning over their shoulder to make sure that we have fallen into the game and are chasing after them. I feel like today God showed me that this is what I'm doing to him. Only maybe with different motives.

I've heard it said that sin does not keep God away from us. But that sin causes us to run from God. The separation has really been on our side. Adam and Eve in the garden. God is looking in the garden for THEM. THEY are hiding from HIM.

I've been running. Overwhelmed by my own shortcomings, my inability to meet my own expectations, my...humanity. I run.

But I'm not too far gone yet. I still glance over my shoulder. To see if He would really dare follow.

I'm pretty sure that the place I really would like to run to...is you. I guess I'm just kind of wanting to make sure that you still want me. Even with my fists full of old rags.

Frank and Joe, eat your "Hardy" out

Never mind the fact that the novels reflect each other in shocking similarity, the Hardy boys were darn good at solving mysteries. Not only that, but tracking down the culprit and taking him out with a well practiced shot to the solar plexus. But that's not the point of this entry.

Bottom line, I have no doubt that despite their amazing talents, our God would have had the beloved brothers scratching their heads.

I was thinking the other day. As I heard A.J. Jacobs, a dedicated journalist, describe in detail how devout Christians create a massive, complex web of logic to explain creation (in a rather degrading tone, might I add) it made me wonder. What about other religious schools of thought? Doesn't it take an extensive measure of faith to believe in any of these theories?

Enter the paradigm dripping with irony.

Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and most other religions have solid logic for explaining pain, creation, God's view of humans and earth, God's attitude toward dealing with us, and the responsibilities expected of those indebted to the overseers of the faith.

Christianity is whack. There are more seemingly bizarre, inexplicable concepts here than any other religious market i've ever seen. There are more questions without answers, more seeming contradictions, more "I don't know!"s.

And yet. He is the most captivating. In the mystery lies hope. Hope and promise that he is beyond our comprehension. That the One who put the earth into motion is so capable and intelligent that we have to, at times, resort to the fact that we are unable to wrap our heads around his grandeur. There is a strange comfort hidden here. Interesting that maybe God doesn't feel the need to be fully understood, or prove himself. Because faith was not intended to be a job interview, asking questions of the deities and choosing the one with the most politically correct answers. It's about relationship. Trust emanating from revelation of love.

I think He might be the only one who offers that, too.

But that doesn't mean that we should put down our magnifying glasses and double-billed houndstooth hats. The pursuit of truth never fails to bring about peace, some answers, and maybe a few more questions, too.

Just to clarify...

The last post was inspired by revelation from God through a wonderful man named Baxter Kruger. Credit was due! I just expounded and dramatized, as I do. He talked to us about hanging out in a trash can. I've been chillin' there ever since. And needed to write about it.

Good night, friends.

Trash Can Gospel

How often do you find yourself thinking,

I need to deal with this issue in my life before God can use me.

Or,

I need to (read my Bible more) (pray more) (get over this sin) (trust God more) (be farther along in my walk) to GET BACK to where I need to be with God.

Have you been in a place where you are so totally aware of your own grime and tarnished exterior that you just feel like God has slipped from your reach? That the only way back into his arms is fixing that one (if you're lucky) thing?

Sometimes we struggle to create this grandiose illusion of perfection. A serene room of pure white. Every inch of it scrubbed down to a harsh, stark, hospital white. And yet in the corner we position ourselves in front of a blindingly white trash can, with an awkward, uncomfortable smile on our faces. Anyone can enter our abode, even God. This is where we invite him to enter. On our terms. To come look around, observe the cleanliness, see the accomplishments carefully affixed to the walls and every spec of dust removed. We entertain our guests here, as they welcome us into theirs. Comparing methods for purification and the recognitions adorning the surfaces.

"Oh, allow me!" As the unaccustomed visitor heads to that shadow in the corner. Oh sure, maybe every once in a while, we might let those closest to us venture over to that area of the room. But heaven forbid they look inside that receptacle.

If they truly knew what lay beneath the gleaming cover...

All would be lost.

And not Him. He cannot see that all has not been removed.

We so desperately try to convince ourselves and God that we are good. That we are deserving of grace. LOOK how I have scoured this room! You have given me the ultimate gift and here is what I have done to prove my gratitude. And to the others? SEE how my life has changed! How nothing but the brilliance of white has permeated this existence!

And so it is. That we push everyone, including our greatest Love away. The more desperately we try to hide its contents, closer we must come to the container itself, and the more enormous the divide we must create between us and those we are trying to protect from the contents.

And He. The ultimate gentleman. Will not force his way through our barricades. He will wait at the point where our fear and agony have held him.

And here is where we have missed it completely. He is not waiting for us to clean up our act. To convince him that we have made ourselves presentable. That we have taken his grace and forced our flesh to submit to a standard of holiness to the rhythm of law and religion.

Utterly broken from the exhausting task of upholding this facade, I fall. Deep into the abyss that I so drastically attempted to hide from the world. I lie crumpled in a heap amidst the perpetrator itself. My own garbage.

So immense. So daunting. I feel as though I'm drowning in its expanse. When suddenly a soft whisper navigates the chaos to my heart.

May I come in?

Not him. Please not him. I can be better! I can take care of this!

Please, may I come in?

And this is where he meets me. Not in that room, congratulating me on my progress. Not in my stubborn attempts to display my worthiness. In the darkest place. In the foulest stench of my past and present. This is where he holds me. This is where we talk. This is where light shatters the fog of condemnation and deceit.

And this is the Trash Can Gospel. Not that we can ascend to divinity and the place of glory. But that He descends to us, where we sit in our garbage.

Dismembered

(That's a dramatic way to say "torn.")

Maybe a bit over the top, yet in my brain and heart an accurate description.

Life is so incredibly busy. The line between priorities, obligations, and just plain "want-tos" bleed and blur. At any given moment, the subjects attached to the other end of the strings affixed to my heart begin to engage in aggressive tug-of-war.

I've realize how much has been entrusted to us. The responsibility to designate purpose to a whole of 86,400 seconds of each of day. Life, as an ever shifting maze of opportunity and decisive demands, makes for its own, enormous choice. For what we do with each second determines the outcome of the minute, determines the outcome of the hour, determines the outcome of the day, the year, the LIFE.

No pressure, though.

A dear friend a few nights ago challenged me to really break down my priorities. To decide and act upon the things that were truly important. As simple as this sounds, I had to take some time to contemplate. I first began by allowing the things that consistently fill my time to play in fast forward on the movie screen of my imagination. And yet, the significance for those activities was not as profound as I would have assigned .

When I finally broke it down, I had four priorities that the potential calendar of my life could filter through. It was quite different from the current reality.

Here's the kicker. I read through the Bible cover to cover in a pretty short time. This provided an amazing perspective on the overall story of the Word. Reading in the Old Testament, what command would you think God would put the most emphasis on?

Maybe things like, oh, I don't know murder? Idolatry? Covetousness?

Sabbath. That is the one discipline that is stressed throughout the ENTIRE Bible. And yet probably the most overlooked...I'm a prime example. Why does God do this? Because like a good parent, he knows that if we get tired we're gonna get cranky? Because He struggles to keep up with our constant requests, and needs a break from genie work every once in a while? Because, well, He rested on that one day and we are supposed to imitate him.

For me, I'm going with the cranky one. God made me. He knows how I roll.

Seriously, though. I have a theory. Rest is not just a grown-up "time out" thing. Rest is not a singular event. Rest is a perpetual state of being. It is in rest that we let go...and let God. A place of reflection. A place of perspective. Perspective on who we are...and ultimately who we are because of Christ. Rest is not about forcing ourselves to cease from doing what we really want to do. Rest is about being where we ultimately, deeply desire to be. To stay. And this is one of those times that God (shocker) knows what we need more than we do.

So on a surface level, the necessity to delegate some of my precious seconds to ANOTHER pursuit seems overwhelming. And yet. That's the beauty of rest. Rest is not another event. Rest is the vehicle that navigates the paths of responsibilities. Once seated in that place, the stress of time determination melts away. For in the rest, revelation falls that the pressure doesn't fall on me anymore. I switched yokes, remember?

Levitical Adventures

I'm in the process of chronologically working my way through that sweet, sweet book we know as the Bible.

This is to be a Summer of Biblical Fun. Or, more specifically, the School of Biblical Foundations. I'm helping Brent and Foster run this school for three really quality guys who are taking three months of their life to dive into these pages.

Right now, though, I'm wading through text like, "the priest will wring the bird's neck without severing the head from the body." As much as I find verses like this one completely applicable to the season I currently find myself in...

(That was a joke.)

No really, though, I feel as though I've entered a realm of new-found fascination for this...book. If I can even classify it as such anymore. My brain is exploding with questions! I love the subtle sarcasm that the NLT attributes to God's tone when the situation can so contain it. I can't get enough of the little discoveries of revelation that surface along the way. I find safety in the discipline I'm pleasantly surprised to find myself walking in.

And yet, in the same moment, I feel as though this is the surface. I feel like deep in the depths of my heart, the waters are stirring. And here enters the understanding in my heart that is beyond description. Suffice to say, there is unfinished business in my soul, and I dare to believe that the newness might translate to every corner and crevice of who I am.

"And, scene."

Hello beautiful people!

Short update! 

Long one to come tomorrow!

Tomorrow is a well deserved day off.  The group is splitting up to explore Buenos Aires one last time.  We just got back from picking up our laundry and indulging in a treat at our favorite ice cream spot.  My favorite is the frambuesa (raspberry) con bano de chocolate (bath of chocolate).  Yep.  As terrible as it sounds.

Things are good.  It has been an interesting time here.  It has been a strong focus of spiritual warfare, bringing the presence of God, and intercession.  This can be a challenge when you long to see tangibly the work of God.  But we discussed today how success is not determined in numbers...but in obedience.  And to that, we can say that we are successful.  We adored working with the church here.  Man, talk about tangibly feeling the presence of the Holy Spirit.  

This felt almost like a testing time.  Many things arose to test our patience.  Many things threatened our unity.  Many things were cause for complaints.  And yet...none prevailed.  What an amazing team.

Miss my mommy and daddy.  But seriously, who doesn't?

More later.