love is patient.

(This is the first of a 4-week series of reflections on 1 Corinthians 13.)

I think it's very ironic that the first thing this passage talks about regarding love is patience, because for me it is one of the qualities I lack the most. In a world where Amazon Prime has replaced waiting times for packages, High Speed Internet has replaced spending an hour to download a single file, and text messaging has replaced waiting forever to get a response from someone, we have come to expect things to operate on our own time frame. I've grown so accustomed to "instant" results in many areas of my life. Having to wait 5-10 days for an order is aggravating. Being stuck in a line for anything over 10 minutes makes me want to give up whatever I came for and leave. The thing that frustrates me the most, however, is when I can't get other people in my life to operate on my schedule. All my life, I've always hated being late to anything. As a kid, though, you're almost entirely dependent on other people to make it to anything on time. My parents had this uncanny ability to make me late for anything. Church starts at 9? We'll probably be there at 9:05. Headed to the movies? You'll probably get to see one of the trailers, but no more. I used to have to tell them that everything started 10 minutes earlier than it actually did, because otherwise I could almost guarantee I'd be late. I grew up being very frustrated at this. Why weren't they considerate of my needs? Why didn't they see that what I wanted to do was important to me?

It wasn't until I started driving that this perspective shifted for me. It's crazy; for a guy that used to hate being late, I don't think I've been on time for anything in at least a year and a half. There's always something that gets in the way; traffic, car trouble, oversleeping, pit stops, high school kids that tell you to be at their house at a certain time and aren't ready for at least 20 minutes after that time (not naming anyone), or any other myriad of excuses. And I found myself feeling like a total hypocrite when I noticed this pattern. I had forgotten that the heart of why my parents would drive me places as a kid was because they loved me, and they cared about what I was doing. They sacrificed their time and their money to serve me, and all I could do was complain about why they weren't doing it they way I wanted to.

I think the heart of my impatience comes from a desire for people to do things my way. When I'm trying to teach something new to someone, I get frustrated that they're not learning it at the pace or the level that I would learn. When I spend the time mentoring someone I grow tired of seeing them make so many mistakes along the way because I want them to succeed and to experience the crazy awesome life God has for them. In this, I find myself getting bitter at people. I shut myself out to love because I'm too busy focusing on why other people aren't meeting my expectations at the rate I want them to.

I wonder how many times Moses and the Israelites felt impatient when they were wandering around for 40 years due to their own mistakes. I wonder how tired Jesus became when he told the same stories to people and they just didn't get it. I wonder if He would have been able to speak to more people while on Earth if the people he spent his time with didn't require constant hand-holding. And yet, he could just as easily feel the same way about me. "Daniel, how long is it going to take before you figure out how to appreciate people? When will you stop getting frustrated at those who don't meet your own crazy expectations?" What's crazy, though, is that God is not keeping track of how long it is taking me to figure things out, but instead He is rejoicing with me when I begin to understand His will.

In 1 Timothy, Paul is speaking about his conversion from a persecutor of Christians to a disciple of Jesus. While he was fully engaged in a life against God, he was met right where he was by Jesus and was forever changed. These verses stuck out to me though:

"Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life." -1 Timothy 1:15-16 NIV

Jesus waits for us to come to the point where we realize we need a Savior, and then welcomes us in with open arms. He never gave up on those who took too long to come to that realization. In displaying "immense patience", he modeled for us that love waits for those that it cares for. I think that for me, the perspective shift comes from realizing that I can't think of myself in some faraway place waiting for others to catch up to me, but instead I get to walk alongside people in their journey and grow with them. Patience is much easier when you say "I'll walk with you" rather than "hurry up and catch up to me." The walk may be slow, but the journey is half the fun.

a year in review. (2013)

Let me try and run fast enough;

maybe everything else will stand still.

A year ago, I sat down and looked at all that had gone on within that last 10 months, and looked ahead at the promises and challenges that were in store. In August of 2012, I was so lost and confused as to what was going to happen next that I literally had no choice but to run with it. I had moved twice that summer, my family had been shaken to a point where we didn’t know how to recover, and I was getting ready to start a new job. I didn’t know what this new year had in store, but I thought to myself that anything would be better than the hell that the last year had been.

Taking a job in youth ministry at my church would seem like the most logical thing for me to ever do. After all, most people that talk to me know that youth ministry is my passion. I talk about it nonstop. I know that the best time to reach students for Christ is during high school, and my biggest desire in life is to see as many high schoolers as possible be touched by the Gospel and live a life saved by and in surrender to Jesus. The relationships I’ve built with students this year through programs, missions (local and international) and camps have been nothing short of amazing. Overall, it was picture-perfect: I’ve been “living the dream” so to speak; I get paid to do what I love, and I get to have an impact.

I look in the mirror and see everything I despise;

The weight of these burdens engraved in my eyes.

In this war against my mind, my heart is no match.

I’ve been telling people that every high and low emotion I’ve felt for the first 18 years of my life was re-experienced during this last year. The highs of this year were incredible. I’ve never felt more on top of the world than in those moments where I see God working in the lives of those I get to work with, and the joy that this year has brought can barely be put into words. But the low points, the moments of desperation, crushed my soul like the weight of a million bricks. I’ve felt the need to “fake it” more than I should have.

I’m waiting for the day when I can say that I’m fine;

no longer feeding it like a memorized line.

Self-doubt has been my biggest setback for as long as I can remember. It’s torn friendships apart for me, driven me to points of utter depravity, and made me question every decision and move I’ve made during this entire year. I find the constant need to prove myself. After all, it’s difficult when you take on a different role in a familiar setting. I had grown up at Clovis Hills for 9 years, and developed a persona and image that people had become used to. I was the kid who was always passionate and eager, but who was usually hot-headed and made a lot of stupid decisions. It’s really hard to feel taken seriously when everyone wants to remind you of how many times you’ve fallen off a ladder. For the entire year, I tried to prove myself. I needed to show my friends that I wasn’t just there for comic relief. I needed to show my co-workers that I could contribute something of actual worth. I needed to show my parents that I could make something out of myself. But mostly, I needed to show God that I had it under control. I had wrapped myself around the idea that if I screwed this one up, God would never be able to use me for anything.

How can I say that all I am is Yours while I still hold on to control for dear life?

We both want my life; In the end, one of us will win.

I need you to win, but I can’t bear to let go.

What will it take to wake me up?

I wrote earlier this summer about my struggle to trust God for strength and comfort. During this year, whenever I faced situations that hurt, I never wanted to turn to God and instead wanted to just block it out. It’s easier to deal with your emotions if you just pretend they aren’t there. Or so I thought. To be honest, the more I held in, the more hurt I felt when it came and hit me in the face. When I found out that I wasn’t going to be leading worship this next year, I found out that the hurt wasn’t from the current situation, but because it had brought up my entire past of struggling to feel accepted as a musician, and going through high school feeling rejected for being mediocre at something I was so passionate about. The hurt came because I had spent the past 2 years trying to prove that I could be good enough only to have it crash in front of me. When I found out that my job this next year is being focused in a different area than youth ministry, I wasn’t disappointed due to anything related to what I would be doing. After all, I love the people in the area I’m moving to, and I’ll still be doing a lot of high level youth things. The discouragement came, however, from an internal feeling that I’m not valued in an area that all of my heart, soul, and strength has gone into for the past year of my life.

The air around you has become too thin.

Come back to the surface and breathe new life in.

I’ve spent the last 2 weeks questioning everything that has happened in my life this past year. And as I reflect, my biggest fear is that I haven’t gone anywhere since last year. I find myself ending this year feeling like I’m back at square one. How can I say I’ve significantly grown when I haven’t really accomplished anything? I still find myself just as troubled, just as restless, just as stressed, and just as lost as I was a year ago. As I start this new year, I don’t have a single clue as to what’s in store for me, and it doesn’t feel good at all. I relate to David in Psalm 25, where he desperately asks God for guidance because of how lost he has become. Exodus 33 shares about Moses and how he refused to make a move if God wasn’t there with him. This year’s going to take a miracle to pull off. I’m starting to realize though that God has already done the miracle. I need to wake up and surrender and accept the miracle, or else I’m going to drown.

Ask and receive; seek and find.

The race has already been won.

Open your eyes. Feed the truth. Kill the lies.

Your sorrows will meet their demise.

Here’s to the new year.

awaken.

Our thoughts scream "we don't belong" but we know it's not supposed to be this way.Why do we let others build onto the walls we've created? This destruction that's been set into motion is harder to swallow when we realize we caused it all along. The fuse grows shorter. Yet we move closer. Our anticipation of what's in store draws us nearer to the place we should flee. We chase failure when it's all we know. Turn back. Destroy the poison and start to grow. Embrace the light; it's keeping you alive. Run toward hope. you were meant to survive. Why do you crawl when you were made to stand? You'll continue to sink when you dwell in the sand. This light is blinding when you've only known the dark; A blinding torch birthed from a single spark. You feel cold. The light will bring warmth.

reflections. 5.21.13 01.40am

There's a funny thing about nostalgia. So many times, I've revisited moments in the past, and thought that there's never a chance to fix them. It can never be undone. I'll never finish that project, idea, or dream. The door has closed. And all that remains with me is a faint memory of things that used to be, which may never happen again. I look at the people around me that I've been close with during any point in the last 4 years. I see how they've changed, for better or for worse. I begin to wonder if some of them will ever break free of the cycles they're stuck in, whether it be addiction, compulsion, heartache, or even apathy. I spend time thinking I'd like to "change" or "fix" them. And it usually looks pretty hopeless.

Over a year ago, I lost a sister. Most people have heard that story in some way, shape, or form by now. I've spent many nights and days in despair, anger, and countless other toxic emotions. And I've said many things that are difficult to take back, but that have caused the gap to become much wider. My deepest fear inside is that the relationship will never be mended, or that she'll hit bottom and not be able to come out of it.

But then I remember just how big our God is. It's amazing; every time I go to the mountains or the beaches, whenever I hear an amazing melody, or even when I sit gazing at stars in a town as boring as Clovis, I am reminded and stuck with awe at the wonder of creation, and how I get to have a relationship with the Creator of it all. Suddenly, the vast brokenness of everything around me begins to shrink.

We use our brokenness as a crutch too often; we sit and say, "Why?" When we should be saying, "What do I do next?" And when we are called to action, we must ACT.

I've started my list. It starts with easily manageable things. First steps. That's all I need. Laying out plans doesn't work when we're shooting in the dark. But the first step is always lit.

Somehow, it all seems much more manageable. I love the stars.

isaiah 41 - overcoming discouragement.

But you, Israel, my servant,Jacob, whom I have chosen, the offspring of Abraham, my friend;

you whom I took from the ends of the earth, and called from its farthest corners, saying to you, “You are my servant, I have chosen you and not cast you off”;

fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Behold, all who are incensed against you shall be put to shame and confounded; those who strive against you shall be as nothing and shall perish.

You shall seek those who contend with you, but you shall not find them; those who war against you shall be as nothing at all.

For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not, I am the one who helps you.”

Fear not, you worm Jacob, you men of Israel! I am the one who helps you, declares the Lord; your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel.

Behold, I make of you a threshing sledge, new, sharp, and having teeth; you shall thresh the mountains and crush them, and you shall make the hills like chaff;

you shall winnow them, and the wind shall carry them away, and the tempest shall scatter them. And you shall rejoice in the Lord; in the Holy One of Israel you shall glory.

Isaiah 41:8-16 (ESV)

I’ve spent a significant portion of the last three years of my life battling discouragement. We all experience it from time to time - that thought that what we’re doing isn’t important, or that nobody cares. Sometimes, it can come from others’ input (or lack of input in some cases), while in other moments we find ourselves being our own worst critic.

I’ve spent the past 8 months on staff at my church, and they have been some of the most rewarding, exciting, epic, and fulfilling months I’ve ever had. At the same time, it has been one of the most chaotic, stressful, and challenging endeavors I’ve ever encountered. I will say this, and you’ll probably hear me say it often if you’re around me: I LOVE MY JOB. It still blows my mind to think that I spend my days working with teenagers, playing music, building tables, Photoshopping my boss’s face onto cartoon characters, and changing lives, and I get paid! That being said, everything is not always that simple. Throughout this year, I’ve discovered the reality of spiritual warfare. Sound fake? I always thought so, too. That is, until I began to see it work against me. I met students whose parents did not want them at church because of their conflicting religious views. I work with teens who are living in a culture where broken families are the norm; where parents and peers place impractical expectations on them that drive them to the depths of depression, despair, and self-harm (I actually have a whole post on this coming soon). I’ve heard comments and rumors about myself from people I hold dear to me, which are aimed at discrediting me or questioning my motives. I’ve physically and emotionally exhausted myself by staying up into all hours of the night with racing thoughts and feelings (hence the 2am blog) and then running at full speed for weeks straight while on empty. All in all, the weight of everything can be rather overwhelming. I’ve found that often, my prayers look a lot like, “God, what the heck did you get me into? Why did you pick me for this?” When you pour your entire life and passion into a cause and a mission, it becomes incredibly easy to get discouraged when things around you seem to be crashing in.

Earlier this month, I had read Isaiah 40. I actually wrote about it as well. After I discovered it one night in a time of need, I began to revisit that passage quite a bit. I began dissecting it. I started to share parts of it with others. When God’s Word speaks to you, your life begins to speak it back. The power of this passage began to stick with me, and it began to dawn on me: “If I can feel my life begin to make sense after reading God’s Word, why don’t I do it more often?” In the past few weeks since, I’ve become fascinated with reading more and more of the Bible. Especially the Old Testament. There’s something about reading something that was composed thousands of years ago and have it jump out with as much clarity as if it were written yesterday. I discovered Isaiah 41 soon after (I mean, that’s logical. It’s the next chapter. Haha). God starts out with explaining to the Israelites that he has chosen them. That word carries a lot of power. God could have used anyone to do the work I’m doing, but he selected me. I find myself overwhelmed by that; not in the “ooh, look at me! I’m the best” sense, but as a child whose father has given him the attention he desires. But here’s the cool part: it doesn’t stop there. God didn’t just tell them he had chosen them and then leave them to fend for themselves. Check out Verse 10, my favorite:

“fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Often, I feel as if God has thrown me into an arena in my underwear without a sword; a fighter whose weaknesses are fully exposed and who has no defense, fully vulnerable to attack and criticism. But God promises us strength. We weren’t meant to do it alone. But at the same time, we can’t be lazy. Verse 10 uses the words “strengthen”, “help”, and “uphold”. I watched Evan Almighty last night. Morgan Freeman (God) spoke to a character who was struggling, and shared the idea that “God [doesn’t just] give a man courage, but the opportunity to be courageous.” I’ve seen that movie many times, but last night it jumped out on me. We talk sometimes in Christian circles about God fighting our battles for us, when in reality we are given the opportunity to rely on him for the strength needed to take on our enemies. Verse 15 says that God gives us the strength to completely demolish the mountains and make chaff (waste) out of them. That’s huge.

I still don’t fully comprehend the mission God has created me to fulfill. And I don’t think I ever fully will. But my prayer is that I would continue to seek refuge in Him, that my strength would be renewed and in turn I would be able to share this glorious reward with others.

And if our God is for us,

then who could ever stop us?

And if our God is with us,

then what can stand against?