Absolute Surrender by David Achata

“I say it again, God will bless you. You have been praying for blessing. But do remember, there must be absolute surrender. At every tea-table you see it. Why is tea poured into that cup? Because it is empty, and given up for the tea. But put ink, or vinegar, or wine into it, and will they pour the tea into the vessel? And can God fill you, can God bless you if you are not absolutely surrendered to Him? He cannot. Let us believe God has wonderful blessings for us, if we will but stand up for God, and say, be it with a trembling will, yet with a believing heart: ‘O God, I accept Thy demands. I am thine and all that I have. Absolute surrender is what my soul yields to Thee by divine grace.’”

I read this the other day in Andrew Murray's book, Absolute Surrender. This quote is behind the journey my family and I are embarking on very soon.

Many of you know that Amy and I have sensed the Lord guiding us over the past few months to make a huge move out west. We've seen many confirmations that we're moving in the right direction. But ultimately, it's all about absolute surrender. I can understand why Paul says in Phil. 3:13. "I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead . . ." I question if people can be "absolutely surrendered" to Jesus – but that's what believers are moving toward. I know I want to move toward that.

When a person considers the cost of following Jesus (Luke 14:25-34), one has to ask, "How is this possible?" How can one attain what Jesus wants: absolute surrender? It's in the quote. I think it has to do with recognition of what we were made for. Murray would say that a pen is made for writing. It can't write correctly if two hands are on it. It can only be given up for writing if a single hand is guiding it.

This past year has been a process of me taking an honest assessment of my motives, my passions and how they line up with what God wants for my life. The result: I saw there were other "hands" on the pen of my life. The hand of job security, the hand of health insurance, the hand of a great church and the hand of a great neighborhood. Those things aren't bad, but when they become ultimate and end up standing in the way of the call of God, they need to be demoted to their proper place.

I haven't attained absolute surrender, but I'm on the way. What kinds of things do you need to surrender? Give yourself up to the master. Let him be the hand that guides your life, and you'll find yourself on a journey, and if you ever come back, you'll be transformed so much that it's like you never really came back. Like Murray says, "Let us believe God has wonderful blessings for us, if we will but stand up for God, and say, be it with a trembling will, yet with a believing heart: 'O God, I accept Thy demands. I am thine and all that I have. Absolute surrender is what my soul yields to Thee by divine grace.'"

It's been a wonderful experience working at Florida Hospital Church. Thanks for a great journey!

David Achata

Follow the Achata’s adventures: http://gowithoutknowing.tumblr.com

When Daddy Comin? by Chad Hess

For the past two weeks, I have been home with my family celebrating our new arrival! Since there is only so much I can do for our new baby, most of my time was spent playing with and taking care of our 20 month old son. I loved this time of bonding with him, and he loved the time with his daddy. I knew it would be difficult for him when I started back to work on Friday. Sure enough, Friday afternoon I got a text from my wife that our son was repeatedly asking “When Daddy comin?” No text has pierced my heart like that. He’s not really old enough to understand exactly why I’m not there. He just knows that he misses his daddy.

Sometimes I feel that way about God. I don’t fully understand why He doesn’t come; I just know that I miss Him. I want to see Him. I want to play with Him. I want Him to love on me. I know someday He will come, and we will go home. But until then, I wait with longing.

My experience with my son has also taught me one other thing: this longing to be together is even worse for the Father than it is for me.

Chad Hess

I Believe In God by John Monday

I believe in God. I don’t mean in the sense that I believe he exists. I do, but I'm talking about a different belief.

I believe in God the way I believe in my friends. I believe he’s happy to take my call, that he looks forward to spending time with me. That he is interested in what I have to say. That he’s anxious to listen and eager to help. That if I need to move, he’ll bring the truck.

I believe in God the way that I believe in my employer. I believe that he has a purpose for me and that he supplies me with the means to accomplish that purpose. I believe that he has created a job perfectly suited to my interests and abilities and that he’s there to coach, mentor and expand my abilities, responsibilities, and job satisfaction.

I believe in God the way I believe in my parents. I believe that he sees through all the errors in judgement, mistakes, misdeeds, ignorance, arrogance, rebellion, and nonsense to see the good in me. I believe that, despite failure after failure, he still has confidence in me. That no matter how many times I turn away he’s watching and waiting with open arms, anxiously expecting me to turn to him. I believe that every time I turn to him he receives me as a perfect child despite my extreme imperfection.

I believe in God the way I believe in my country. I believe that God seeks justice and protects the innocent. That he implements laws to protect me, not him. That he places wise and honest authorities over me for the benefit of me and everyone else.

I believe in God the way I believe in my favorite restaurant. I believe that God prepares good things for me and wants me to enjoy my food. I believe that God takes pleasure in serving me, and that he’ll always be there with a wholesome and appetizing meal.

I believe in God the way I believe in my City. I believe that living in community with God protects me from countless problems of which I’ll never be aware. That God likes, builds, and wants a community where people are more inclined to help than to harm. That he wants community identity, purpose and good.

I believe that any time I see any of these good things anywhere or in anyone I’m seeing reflections of God. Whether I’m eating with friends, working on a project, attending a concert, exploring an art show, or helping a drug addict in a homeless shelter, the good that is there is God.

Do I believe that God exists? Certainly, but more importantly I believe IN God.

UPDATE IN RESPONSE TO COMMENT BY ANONYMOUS:

Dear Anonymous,

Thank you for your response. You’re right.

My life is soft and extremely comfortable. I have been born and raised in America, and despite any illusions I might have to the contrary, it is very hard for me to understand the reality of a boy soldier or a child sex slave. Truth be known, I’ve often wondered - if I had to do something like carry my dying child across a Somali desert in search of food and water that might not arrive in time - would I still be so arrogantly sure of my middle class American God? When I look to the power of my own faith, my usual answer is: probably not.

Furthermore, my arrogance and self-importance exceeds your suspicions. I’ve often thought and even confided to those closest to me that my life is pretty heavenly and that, given the opportunity to continue my current status forever, I would likely choose it over any anticipated heavenly glory. I lay in my bed at night and occasionally think of the child sex slave, the boy soldier, the Somalian mother watching her infant die at her dry breast, the countless orphans in AIDS-infected nations, those in my own community who are suffering quiet horrors at the hands of cruel, monstrous parents or spouses.

I think of the millions of children who have never been loved, who have never had any opportunity to experience any of the good that I believe is God, and I wonder, How can they ever come to know God? I pray, much too briefly, for them, then I fall asleep in my climate-controlled home, on my ridiculously comfortable bed, and I continue my comfortable life.

These realizations about myself have made me belief that one thing you said is probably not true; I don’t think I’m a “very nice man”. If nice is measured by the things that one might think it should be - like self-sacrifice and consideration for others, or by the measures that Christ used - like “treat others as you would want to be treated” and placing the needs of others before my own, then I’m truly not nice at all. If I measure myself only against the rest of depraved humanity, then I guess I’m about average, but that’s not a very high standard, is it?

But I owe a further apology because my words have led you to false conclusions. Neither my church, my job nor my employer are perfect. My friends, while wonderful, are not always there at my whim. In my country the laws are often meted out unfairly, and the innocent sometimes suffer horribly. The businesses and people in my city are sometimes more concerned about their profit than my welfare, and even my parents have occasionally disappointed me.

So when I say “I believe,” I’m not talking about a strict reality but rather a hope, an ambition, a vision for how it could be. The New Testament calls faith the substance of thinks hoped for, the evidence of things unseen; this is the belief to which I refer. I do see the good things I referred to in the article sometimes, and when I see them, I believe I’m seeing God’s plan for how it can be for all humanity, how it will one day be for all humanity, and for how he will ultimately transform even my hard and selfish heart.

In the meantime, he’s transforming me a little at a time, and as he does, my heart for the boy soldier, the child sex slave, and the mother of the dying infant is growing. As the heart of God grows in me I sometimes sleep a little less soundly in my much too comfortable bed, and I’m moved a bit more toward changing the world into the image of God.

You clearly have a heart for the oppressed that I believe comes from God. I believe that God has used you to check my reality, and I thank you.

Lastly, I am a flawed and selfish man, and though any attempt I make to describe my God will portray him as small, I’m compelled to share him anyway. However small my understanding of God may be, I do believe that he has a purpose for me and for you and that he equips us to accomplish that purpose. I believe that purpose is wrapped up in the prayer “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.” I would ask you to consider, as your words have made me consider, What am I doing to accomplish that purpose?

John Monday

Justice for Caylee by Tami Cinquemani

“Justice for Caylee!” the crowd chanted outside the Orlando courthouse as the jury’s decision was announced.

Television and radio personalities weighed in as well. “I absolutely cannot believe that Caylee’s death has gone unavenged,” said CNN’s Nancy Grace.

Kim Kardashian (who – interestingly enough – is the daughter of one of O.J. Simpson’s “dream team”) stated she was “truly sick” over the “not guilty” verdict.

On the CBN News Facebook page, one viewer wrote, "She will answer to Someone more powerful...the Righteous Judge!"

“Where is justice for Caylee?” yelled a woman outside the Orlando courthouse. Where indeed?

I have found a very mixed bag of thoughts and emotions about this verdict on my Facebook page. Some believe justice was served as a lack of evidence allowed for the reasonable doubt necessary for a verdict of “not guilty.” Others are quite descriptive in the harm they’d like to see inflicted on the defendant – as well as the jurors.

And then there are those who find solace and satisfaction in a God who, they are certain, will eventually give Casey just what she deserves. After all, the Bible says, “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord!” (Romans 12:19) Justifiable rage! Sanctified revenge! Blistering penalty! The wrath of God!

But let’s think that through for a minute. The Bible also says, “There is none righteous, not even one” (Romans 3:10), “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), "They have all turned aside; together they have become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one." (Psalm 14:3)

If the wages of sin – any sin – is death (Romans 6:23), then that whole rage, revenge, penalty, wrath thing is something Casey absolutely deserves . . . just as much as I do.

I don’t know about you, but I’m terribly thankful that Romans 6:23 doesn’t end there. Yes, the wages of sin is death – but the gift of God is eternal life. Our God is the prodigal God – the God recklessly extravagant in love, forgiveness, and mercy. I can rest in the assurance that there is nothing that can separate me from His love (Romans 8:38-39). And if I am thankful for the grace that is extended to me, how can I wish for anything but that same grace to be extended to every other sinner in this world – even those whose sins are televised for the world to see.

Tami Cinquemani

Going, Not Knowing by David Achata

Four weeks from today we pack the U-Haul and head west. I can’t believe it’s been almost eight years since we moved to Florida. We’ve had such a great time here and have learned so much. We’re entering into what we have started calling “a season of learning.” This is pretty silly though, because isn’t everything we do a learning experience anyway?

I’m learning that faith is kind of like this. We think we can label certain times of our lives as “faith journeys” when truly, isn’t every day a faith journey?

A few weeks ago Pastor Andy preached a sermon called Faith That Walks Away. At one point he quoted Paul in Acts 20:22 where Paul says, “And now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen to me there.” Andy’s point: Christians are people who are always “Going, not knowing.” This, he said, is what it means to live by faith.

But isn’t everyone living this way? After all, who really knows what’s going to happen to them during the course of their day? We all make plans, but none of us really know what’s going to happen by the time the sun goes down tonight. We are “going, not knowing” whether we recognize it or not. EVERYTHING that’s done is a matter of faith. EVERYONE is always “going, not knowing.”

In Acts 20, the Apostle Paul says that he doesn’t know all the details about what’s going to happen to him. He did, however, reveal the few details he did know: “that in every city the Holy Spirit warns me that prison and hardships are facing me.” (20:23)

Paul didn’t know what was going to happen to him. He just knew it wasn’t going to be easy. So why did he do it? He did it because his own life wasn’t worth anything to him. He didn’t live for his own interests. Instead, he had one all-consuming passion: to “finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace.” (20:24)

What if we all lived “going, not knowing” lives? We all do anyway. But what if we did it on purpose? What if, like Paul, we embrace it instead of being afraid of it?

Imagine you woke up tomorrow and 20 years of your life had passed. Take a moment and wander around the results of your “going, not knowing” life. What do you think it’s going to look like?

David Achata