Passion... for what?

Life is too short to live without an all-consuming passion for God. Do I have that passion? What am I passionate about? What am I willing to die for? I'm willing to take personal risk to deepen my knowledge of God. Am I willing to risk so that others can deepen their knowledge of Him? What would my life and current circumstances look like if lived with reckless abandon and purposeful passion for God?

Last week I attended IPS's Prizewinning Photography. I knew I was attending much more than a simple course on taking pictures. I knew the week would be intense on many levels, both personally and photographically. I knew the Instructors would challenge my perspectives and my spiritual walk. But I didn't expect to finish the course with so many questions. Yes, the technical instruction was absolutely amazing. But woven through it all was the challenge to confront the fear and pride inside of me and pursue the amazing, God-centered purpose I am called to live.

What does faith look like? What does passion feel like? How is the glory of God displayed in my life? Am I living in fear or walking in faith? What does it look like for me to trust God with all of my life?

It is remembering that God is a God of love. How does He view the person I see through my lens? It changes my view of this person. It changes how I capture the image of this person.

It is remembering that God is enough to supply all that I need. This changes my interaction with other people, my use of my camera, and my view of myself.

During our first photo shoot on Monday afternoon, I met a man who works a part time job sweeping sidewalks and cleaning up the trash around dumpsters so that he has time to watch TV every night. His face lit up as he mentioned this season's shows and speculated as to whether or not they would last. His all-consuming passion is television, but his life is empty. I asked if I could take his picture, and he agreed. When I asked him to smile, he made a half-smile, half-grimace contortion that caused a deep feeling of sadness inside of me. It's as if he was in prison, and his passion for TV was the only thing that gave him a chance to escape the life he chose to live.

I walked away without sharing my freedom with him.

As I looked at his face on my print that night, I started asking myself questions. What is my all-consuming passion? What is my God-centered purpose? What does that look like applied to my personal life? Is my passion to glorify God (a God-centered passion), or to ensure that my walk with God is sure and deep (a Sarah-centered passion)? I realized that my current passion for personal spiritual development is nothing more than a prison of selfishness. God-centered passion drives me to risk for other people. Sarah-centered passion consumes me with fear of failure in the face of such a risk.

Which will I choose?

For my determined purpose is that I may know Him [that I may progressively come more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him, perceiving and recognizing and understanding the wonders of His Person more strongly and more clearly], and that I may in the same way come to know the power outflowing from His resurrection [which it exerts over believers], and that I may so share His sufferings as to be continually transformed [in spirit into His likeness even] to His death... Not that I have now attained [this ideal], or have already been made perfect, but I press on to lay hold of (grasp) and make my own that for which Christ Jesus (the Messiah) has laid hold of me and made me His own.

Phil. 3:10, 12 AMP

Confronted with the Cross

I am deeply convinced of the evil and misery of a sinful state, of the vanity of creatures, but also of the sufficiency of Christ.

When Thou wouldst guide me, I control myself,
When Thou wouldst be sovereign I rule myself,
When Thou wouldst take care of me I suffice myself.
When I should depend on Thy providings I supply myself,
When I should submit to Thy providence I follow myself…

I fault and correct Thy laws to suit myself… and am by nature an idolater.

Lord, it is my chief design to bring my heart back to Thee.

Convince me that I cannot be my own god, or make myself happy, nor my own Christ to restore my joy, nor my own Spirit to teach, guide, rule me.

Take away my roving eye, curious ear, greedy appetite, lustful heart;

Show me that none of these things can heal a wounded conscience,
or support a tottering frame, or uphold a departing spirit.

Then take me to the Cross and leave me there.

Valley of Vision: A collection of Puritan prayers and devotions, edited by Arthur Bennett, page 91

Lessons in Warfare

I will love You, O Lord, my strength... for by You I can run against a troop, and by my God I can leap over a wall.

This God— His way is perfect, the Word of the Lord proves true; He is a shield to all those who take refuge in Him.

For who is God, but the Lord? And who is a rock, except our God?— the God who equipped me with strength and made my way blameless...

He trains my hands for war, so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.

You have given me the shield of Your salvation, and Your right hand supported me, and Your gentleness made me great.

— Excerpts from Psalm 18, English Standard Version

The Homeward View

Almighty God, may I view all things in the mirror of eternity... may I speak each word as if my last word, and walk each step as my final one.

If my life should end today, let this be my best day.

Valley of Vision: A collection of Puritan prayers and devotions, edited by Arthur Bennett, page 119

Communicating Christ

Conversations By Sara Groves

I don't know how to say this...

I think we've figured out this world is bigger than you and I.
We've exhausted our wealth of knowledge, have no more answers for mankind.
And we've had every conversation in the world
About what is right and what has all gone bad.
But have I mentioned to you that this is all I am, this is all that I have.

And I'm not trying to judge you, no, that's not my job.
I am just a seeker, too, in search of God.
Somewhere, somehow, this subject became taboo.
I have no other way to communicate to you,
That this is all that I have, this is all that I am.

And we've had every conversation in the world
About what is right and what has all gone bad.
But have I mentioned to you that this is all I am, this is all that I have.

And I would like to share with you what makes me complete.
I don't claim to have found the truth, but I know it has found me.
The only thing that isn't meaningless to me
Is Jesus Christ and the way He set me free.
And this is all that I have, this is all that I am.

It's all that I have, and it's all that I am.

I don't know how to say this, I don't know where to start,
Just know that I care for you, and I'm speaking from my heart.

On Approaching God

Last week I took care of a friend’s flowers while she was out of town. She has a fairly large yard, so this wasn’t a simply “go water that one potted plant I have next to my front door” kind of a job. But it was refreshing to spend time alone, and her gardens encourage quiet, meditative conversation with God. She has two fishponds with koi in them (the medium to large “goldfish” that live in outdoor ornamental ponds). I observed these fish last week, and they challenged the way that I approach God.

The fish in the lower pond like to stay near the bottom or on the edges. When they see me coming to feed them, they cower away, as if they’re afraid of me. When I toss the food in, they still cower. It’s as if they think I’m trying to lure them in to catch or hurt them. They cautiously come to the surface to snatch some food, then whip themselves away and to the bottom of the pond. They suffer from sever distrust, even though my hand is one of blessing, not curses.

The fish in the upper pond are much different. As soon as they see or hear me, they all crowd up to the surface, stick their heads out of the water, and open their mouths. They are almost frantic in their hunger and eagerness to receive what I have to give. When I toss the food in, it’s almost as if they wrestle each other to see who can get the first mouthful. They are so excited to eat that sometimes they’ll mouth a lily pad, mistaking it for a very large bit of food. Once they’ve eaten, they happily swim around, obviously content with their full bellies.

Which fishpond do I live in? How do I approach God? Do I come to Him cowering, suspicious of everything He does, expecting hard things and painful circumstances, inwardly suffering from distrust? Or do I get so excited to see Him that I stick my head out of my comfort zone, open my mouth wide, and expect His food to be good food?

I desire to be an upper pond fish.

Fireflies and Faithfulness

Not too long ago Colin, Elsie, Jedi, and I caught fireflies. At least, we tried to. I wanted some shots of fireflies in a glass mason jar, and the kids volunteered to help me round up the little bugs. But there weren’t any fireflies out that night. We walked around the yard for a long time, but there was nothing to see except dark trees and a velvety sky.

At one point we stopped and I asked God to give us some fireflies. The kids joined right in, lifting earnest pleas heavenward. “Please, God, please help us to find some fireflies!” We looked up, and saw a small twinkle in the trees ahead. Elsie jumped up and down—“I knew it! I knew God answers prayer!” We only found two fireflies that night, and I didn’t get the shot I wanted, but we saw God show up and answer our prayers.

Several weeks later I sat in my parked car and cried hard, cried to God. Money was tight, my dreams were sinking, my heart was heavy, and God didn’t seem to care much. The more I asked for provision, the harder it was to bear my empty wallet. The more I asked for direction, the harder it was to surrender my dreams. Where are You, God? Can’t You make this easy? Can’t You just provide for me? You said You would be here. You said that You take pleasure in Your children’s success. Why don’t You answer me?

Suddenly I looked up. The trees ahead of me were full of fireflies, twinkling and flickering like little diamond lights amidst the leaves. Suddenly Elsie’s words came back to me— “I knew it! I knew God answers our prayers!” Yes, that is right. God is still faithful and faithfulness. Just because His provision is different, that doesn’t mean it is insufficient.

God just provided me with access of a whole bag of great camera lenses, since I can’t afford to purchase any more for myself. My laptop only has an 18GB hard drive, but at least I have a laptop. I only have one flash card, but it’s a good one. I only have one battery, but I have never lacked the juice to complete a shoot. I don’t have a car, but I have great parents who are willing to lend me their wheels when I need them. Yeah, sure, money is tight. But it completely redefines the term “need.”

My greatest need is to know my Jesus. Physical and material deficit opens the avenue for spiritual bounty. And fireflies that twinkle as they fulfill their purpose teach me that God is faithful, even when I can’t see His hand of blessing.