Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

– Matthew 16:24 (ESV)

I have been thinking much, recently, about what it means to follow Christ. To really, really follow Him. I have a nagging sense that I don’t really understand it. I can work for Christ all day, but to deny myself? To take up the shame and horror of the executioner’s beam? And to follow Jesus wherever He goes.

Wherever? Lord, perhaps Abraham could leave Ur for “wherever” but am I made of such stern faith?

At my core I am a timid follower of the Lord. Yet I want to move forward. To improve in my followship. To not follow at a distance, but to walk closely with Him, to have my heart burn as He opens the word. Where a gesture and a wink from Him sends me to my next task. With joy, not grumbling.

Lord, I am not ready. But I want to be ready. I pray and believe You can work with this clay.

For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends.

2 Corinthians 10:18 (ESV)

I’m coming to the end of my time in a student ministry I’ve been involved with for almost eleven years – seven in my current capacity as an equipper of student worship bands. Preparing to leave has been a bit harder than I thought it would be, although I know it’s the right time to step down.

It’s been a struggle. A struggle of the mind and heart and emotions. It’s been a struggle as I wonder how I should say goodbye to people who have meant so much to me. Or even wondering if there is a need to say goodbye (I am not moving away, just moving into a different place of service . . . somewhere). “Low key” is good counsel, I believe.

And it’s strange to say goodbye to all the work and effort and times of great struggle and prayer that have so shaped who I am today. To mistakes and looking at myself in the mirror and realizing so often that I was wrong. To times of great victory, times when the ones in my care finally “got it” and began to open up to God without fear. To harder times when they didn’t, and the year ended, and things were left unsaid and growth didn’t happen and lives were left unchanged. I fear that I never got through to some of them. And sometimes I was the one who didn’t grow and didn’t change. Ministry goes both ways.

It is goodbye to the joy and privilege week in and week out of equipping students to lead worship. It has been amazing. There were times when the worship was “Spirit and Truth” worship and that was just incredible. Some relationships have been built that will last a lifetime. But all of these students, the ones that I still know well and the ones that I never see these days, will stay with me, in my memory and my heart as I see or hear of them growing up, getting married (this has already begun with the students from the first few years), having children. Most of all there is a great sense of satisfaction to see them continue in their relationship with God. That’s the best thing.

I was a lay-leader, not a full time minister. Well, “was” is too strong a term – I still “am” for the next week and a half. Others ministered full-time and had even more invested in the lives of these precious students. I’ve been continuously amazed by the pouring out of themselves into student’s lives by so many workers I know.

So I’m left meditating on this passage: “. . . it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends.” At this point, here at the end, I’m so scattered emotionally that I don’t know what the final verdict – the only verdict that matters – will be on this work. To be honest, I’m realizing more and more in these last few days that I’m a broken individual who comes equipped, as so many of us do, with all the battering rams of ego and flesh and a bent mind and baggaged heart slamming, slamming, and slamming away. It makes me tremble to think about it. Lord, may it be shown in the end that You were the one doing the work.

Lord, it’s been amazing. It’s been awesome. I just can’t come up with words to thank You for letting me do this for so long. And Lord, I hope that it counts.

My wife and I have been to two weddings in the past month. The two young brides in these weddings are both wonderful Christian girls and the young men they married are richly blessed.

I love weddings! By far my favorite part of any wedding is the entrance of the bride. My heart always starts beating at that moment, when we stand to honor the beautiful young woman being ushered down the aisle by her father. It is an amazing moment.

How much more amazing is it to know that Christ calls us His Bride; His beautiful, spotless Bride. The church takes a lot of abuse these days, from those within it and without it. Some of the criticism is deserved, yet I am always reminded that Christ calls the church His Bride, and in Christ she is spotless and pure.

A wedding is planned, and one day all the heavenly host will stand, hearts beating, as the Bride is ushered into the wedding feast. Christ loves the church and laid His life down for her. Blessed be His name!

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready . . .

– Revelation 19:7 (ESV)

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them . . .

– Acts 16:25 (ESV)

I wish I could have been there to hear it. What a holy moment that must have been.

Especially if you consider what had just occurred. Paul and Silas weren’t in any kind of prison we’d recognize. They were in stocks, in a first century dungeon.

“. . . they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the marketplace before the rulers.” – verse 19

“The crowd joined in attacking them” – verse 22

“. . . and the magistrates tore the garments off them and gave orders to beat them with rods” – verse 22

“[the jailer] put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks.” – verse 24

For the sake of the gospel, Paul and Silas were stripped naked, beaten with rods, and, bruised and bleeding, they were thrown in prison and put in the stocks. My expectation is that the position of their bodies in the stocks was not a comfortable one. This was not what we would call “due process”.

And yet there, in the darkness, they sang. They sang and they prayed.

What I would give to have been there, to hear the sweet songs of supplication, of praise, of victory that they sang. In the stocks, their bodies aching and bruised, Paul and Silas did the last thing anyone would have expected.

No wonder the other prisoners were listening.

This awesome post by the ever-excellent Mr Standfast led me to Nehemiah 8, where I read these words:

And Ezra opened the book in the sight of all the people, for he was above all the people, and as he opened it all the people stood. And Ezra blessed the Lord, the great God, and all the people answered, “Amen, Amen,” lifting up their hands. And they bowed their heads and worshiped the Lord with their faces to the ground.

– Nehemiah 8:5-6

The weight of God’s word was upon them.

““This day is holy to the Lord your God; do not mourn or weep.” For all the people wept as they heard the words of the Law. – verse 9b.

Mourning and joy mingled together into what we call worship. Worship. Celebration. Peace.

Then he said to them, “Go your way. Eat the fat and drink sweet wine and send portions to anyone who has nothing ready, for this day is holy to our Lord. And do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength.” So the Levites calmed all the people, saying, “Be quiet, for this day is holy; do not be grieved.” And all the people went their way to eat and drink and to send portions and to make great rejoicing, because they had understood the words that were declared to them. – verses 10-12

They celebrated. They gave to those who had nothing. And, although the weight of the word had brought grief, they rejoiced. The joy of the Lord was their strength!

May it be so with me.

Lord, thank you for joy!

Drink this in . . .

Love is not a separate entity from the fruits of the Spirit, it is what houses them as they dwell within it and spring forth from it. It is our very strength. It is blood that pumps through a heart of faith. It is the tangible evidence of a life born in Christ Jesus.

Read the whole thing on Broken Messenger; it’s excellent.

[A humble spin of the rim to the hub of the Thinklings wheel: Jared, from over at his quiet space]

I apologize for the silence on the blog this week. I’ve been busy (and I’m sure so have you). Expect light blogging over the weekend – and, of course, in this quiet space that usually means “no blogging”. Heh.

A few quick notes:

Firstly, Bloo v. 0.15 is coming! It will contain a few nice new features. I expect to have some time to work on it over the next few days. In the last few weeks the time I’ve had to sling code for Bloo has been measured in mere minutes. Hopefully that will change.

Secondly, and – apropos of the silence on the blog lately – check out this post on Silence from Jared’s Shizuka Blog:

How many times have you come across someone excusing their own insensitivity or insulting manner by claiming they are just “telling it like it is.” They’re just being “real” or “honest.”

They’re right — they are telling you what they’re like, what their real self is, the “honest” condition of their heart.

Most times, someone’s unhinged tirade (or even passive-aggressive criticism) of you actually says more about them than it does you.

Sometimes you are (by which I mean “I am”) in the place of the critical someone.

Sometimes it’s just best to be silent. When we actively choose silence over unnecessary or unnecessarily critical speech, we reflect a real self that is actually worth boasting about.

And, finally, drink this in . . .

This morning Jared asked a question that I asked myself earlier today. His is a very timely post, and I take it as a sign that the conviction I felt earlier this morning is real. An excerpt is below:

If His Word is written on my heart, why isn’t it flowing in my blood?

It is written, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.” — Matthew 4.4 (NRSV)

I have been reading selections from the Apostolic Fathers lately, and one thing that strikes me most about them is just how drenched in Scripture they are. The difference between these documents and more contemporary writings of edification (the so-called “Christian Living” genre) is clear and impressive. These early documents live and breathe God’s written Word.

Take 1 Clement, for example, which is an epistle from the Roman church to the Corinthians, written at the end of the first century and attributed to Clement of Rome. The point of the letter appears to be a correction and a soft rebuke, addressing the fact that young members of the Corinthian church have affected some sort of rebellion, even ousting older (and wiser) members of the church. The primary aim of the letter is restoration.

And the whole thing is riddled with references — some explicit quotes, some incorporated paraphrases — to Scripture passages, both from the Hebrew Scriptures and from the early New Testament canonical tradition. (By the way, the practically equal treatment artifacts like 1 Clement give to both Old Testament documents and to assorted snippets from the Pauline epistles, the Epistle to the Hebrews, and even Gospel sayings is a good indicator of the historic attestation of our New Testament canon.)

Read his entire post; it is fantastic.

And Lord, may the hunger that You have put in me for Your word grow and grow. And may the gift of faith that you have given me, mixed with Your word, produce fruit that is pleasing to You.