Digno Es El Cordero (A Trip Summary)

Hi!

I have a quick question for ya.

Why is the Lamb worthy?

Why do we sing about Him and do things for Him and consider Him as something?

Do you think of the Lamb as worthy?

My trip to the Dominican Republic last week provided a pretty excellent framework for me to fully, unashamedly, loudly proclaim this: "Digno es el Cordero. Worthy is the Lamb."

Because of your involvement in my trip, I wanted to tell you about it and the Lamb that made it possible.

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Obviously, I know about the Lamb. You know about Him. Most people know about Him. Whether they associate Him with a church building, or a person, or a history textbook, it's rare to come across someone who does not know about the Lamb.

That is, however, kind of dangerous to say. It's a good thing that I'm fluent in Spanish now that I've come home, because that will help me clear it up.

Lots of people saber (know) the Lamb because they have heard about Him and know facts about Him.

Very few people conocer (know) the Lamb because very few people have a relationship with Him. Very few consider Him worthy.

When we admire something, we consider it worthy.

I, now more than ever, consider the Lamb worthy of all things in heaven and on earth. That starts with me admiring Him. I saber Him and have since I was a boy, but this trip gave me a greater opportunity to admire and conocersome of His attributes: the beauty He displays through creation, the power He displays through the gospel, the grace He displays through giving us His Spirit. All of these are admirable things about the Lamb.

This week, I got to serve alongside James and Rebekah, the American missionaries in the Dominican Republic, and they are a powerful display of the attributes of the Lamb. They love the kids at their orphanage. They care about the health of their church. They serve each other and their kids tirelessly. They are slow to wrath and quick to repentance, and those are all miracles from the Lamb. Those things are all admirable.

When we consider something worthy, we elevate it.

Our times of worship (us actively, intentionally, and mindfully elevating God) in the Dominican were really special. There were two causes for that: first, because it was ridiculously unconventional. We worshiped through painting. We worshiped through blessing the kids in the city we stayed. We worshiped through performing Speechless and portraying the gospel. We worshiped through hosting a special couple's night on Valentine's Day. We worshiped through talking and making food and meditating on God's Word. At its most conventional, we worshiped in a huge circle and sang English worship songs. The second reason it was special is because the majority of our worship was not even in English. We sang to the Lamb in Spanish almost every time we sang, and it was odd. Because I'm American, I just assume that English is the correct language and that the Lamb probably talks in English all the time.

That is, of course, false.

We admire the Lamb because of who He is, and that naturally means that we care about and elevate who He is. In the midst of that elevation, it is hard, yet important for me to keep focused on actually praising the Lamb, and not my voice or my abilities. The Lamb is worthy, and because of that we spent some really sweet time worshiping Him, even if it was in a different language.

The last time you said the phrase "thank you", did you think about it? Thanking someone presupposes the fact that they did something for you that you did not or could not do for yourself. It is a phrase of humility and lowliness. Praising the Lamb through thanksgiving, repentance, and worship are all expressions of our low state towards His infinite glory.

When we elevate something that is worthy, we begin to act like it.

Have you ever realized how easy it is to rub off on someone? Conversely, have you ever realized how easily other people rub off on you? The only evidence I need is that all of my friends use the phrase "cheeseballs" regularly because of me. (By the way, that's "pelotas de queso" in Spanish.)

When we spend time looking at the Lamb and elevating the Lamb, something is bound to happen. Our stagnant, dead selves will no longer be stagnant and dead if we spend time admiring the Lamb and elevating Him. Eventually, He is going to rub off on us.

I got to witness a lot of individuals this week acting like the Lamb. Even people in their neat little box (the "cool kid", the "my friend's parent", the "cook", the "photographer", the "leader", the "not-really-part-of-the-group person") proved to be a lot more than whatever their description was. Each of the individuals on my team displayed admiration for the Lamb this week through their worship and their actions. It was things like filling up my water bottle, like encouraging me intentionally and honestly, like leading me to the Lamb and following me when I followed the Lamb, like being uncomfortable so I could be comfortable, like reminding me of the gospel, like waking up early and going to bed late for my sake, like telling me when I had erred, like helping me with the things that were important to me, like teaching me Spanish, and through looking like the Lamb. I tried to make it really clear to the individuals that displayed those attributes of the Lamb: that I am thankful for my team because of the way that they made me love the Lamb more. He is worthy.

I'm pretty convinced that the members of my team also consider the Lamb to be worthy, because they admire Him and worship Him and act like Him.

I'm thankful for those of you that stayed home and prayed for us and supported us financially so that we could go on this trip. The Lamb proved His faithfulness to us time and time again, and I hope that you are blessed through hearing about Him.

For our leader's perspective on the week, visit the team blog: http://gcodr15.blogspot.com/.

In the end... need I say anything but this?

Digno es el Cordero.

andy jei

Today's Stories - Lexi

Hello Everyone,

Everything ever written that starts with something as dismal as "Hello Everyone" is bound to be something of a downer. In a lot of ways, Today's Story is no exception; in a lot of ways, it is an exception. Next to that, this is a rather odd day to send a story (I just wrote one barely more than a week ago), but in a big way, it makes perfect sense. 13 years may not seem like a very long time for one life, but in a way, there's more life in our story today than in most.

---

This is a story about a young girl born to a young couple. She was brought into this world by God's grace on August 5th of 1998. She lived life, grew up like the rest of us, and accepted Jesus at a young age... her beginnings are probably rather similar to yours, but her life was as full as possible.

I met Lexi when I was around 7. I think. Point being, I can barely remember those days, it was so long ago. We were both taking part in a Latin class at a friend's house. It was so fun. We learned, we ate food, we read from the Children's Bible, we played Sharks and Minnows. Life was pretty chill.

For me, that class lasted only two or three years. After that, I rarely saw Lexi, but when I did, it was always a wonderful privilege. She seemed to show up at neat events; homeschooler's Legoland day, our homeschool talent shows, our other homeschooling friend's birthday parties (see a pattern?), and I distinctly remember seeing Lexi living out a Jesus-filled life.

At the talent show, she was reciting Scripture. At Legoland, she was encouraging others and giving her time to help the adults. And everywhere, she was smiling. Y'know that cheesy children's song about having "the joy, joy, joy, joy, down in your heart"? Maybe it's not so cheesy. Lexi truly had the joy of Christ deep down in her heart.

I said earlier that it makes a lot of sense that I would send this story today. That's because on June 5th of 2012, Lexi... well, she went home.

I was at my house. A lot of my friends were in Colorado at a competition. Lexi also happened to be in Colorado on a camping trip with her church family. From everything I was told, she went out running, came back to her RV, sat down on the floor, and experienced a major brain aneurysm that killed her immediately. Something strange happened. She was healthy, so it was entirely unexpected.

Unexpected, but still planned and perfectly understood by God; all sovereign and all wise.

I think the biggest challenge for me in Lexi's death is not about how much I lost, but how much I've gained. Her death reminded me vividly of the both the fragility and the beauty of life. She died, in our eyes, at a very young age, yet she allowed her life to be filled with the joy of the Spirit, the love of Christ, and a hunger for God. A "young" death is not a waste if the life was not wasted.

I asked a good friend of mine to write up a little note about Lexi's life. You can read it below. Both of us appreciated her greatly, because she deserves it. Let's not allow her death to be in vain. Let's, for Lexi's sake, and for Christ's sake, focus on eternal things, focus on loving others, and focus on serving Jesus with all we have.

---

"Lexi was truly a gift that inspired and blessed every individual that had the opportunity to meet her. Her passion for the great outdoors and the desire to learn and comprehend all that could be known about nature is fascinating. I vividly remember times such as bird watching fieldtrips where I would hear a noise, thinking that it was a bug, and Lexi would yell out “guys do you hear that common redshank?” or whatever it could have been. She surprised me time and time again with her ability to recall everything about everything. Her love for learning about her Gods creative work in nature should strike us in a way to follow her lead.

Lexi’s smile made burdens light. If you were a stranger that never met her, you would ask yourself “why does she smile so much?” and the answer is as simple as, she had nothing to not be smiling about. She was the epitome of optimistic. Whether she has a horrible cold, headache, or simply didn’t feel right, she would never cease to hide what she felt so others would continue smiling. Her love for the show ‘I Love Lucy’ expressed itself in almost every situation. She would have a quote for every happening and everyone could count on her good timing to make them laugh. I simply can’t count the number of times I have been lifted up by Lexi’s smile, for in it, Gods face was shown.

Lexi prized the hearts and spirits of every person she met and always put her desires last. When Lexi served others she never thought in terms of how little, but rather how much. She set each and every conversation and friendship as a chief importance in her life. There is nothing she would not do for those who she considered her friends. She had no notion of loving partially, but loved with all her heart, soul, and mind. Lexi has left footprints in my heart that will be cherished for eternity and memories that will only make life a brighter place."

---

In loving memory of Alexandra Grace C.: August 5th, 1998 - June 5th, 2012 - Eternity with Jesus.

Andrew

Yesterday's Stories - Martin Luther

What happens when everyone believes in something, but that crucial thing is completely false? When we find ourselves in these situations, are we supposed to encourage our few close friends back to the truth? Are we supposed to tell the world how wrong they are? Are we supposed to ignore the problem altogether and think of it as alright? But... really, what I talking about? It seems pretty unlikely that any of us would encounter something this drastic. That happens to other people. Then again, Martin Luther probably thought the same thing as a young man. And in his case, the falsehoods of the time were as far from the truth as Hell is from Heaven.

---

Martin's struggles growing up were pretty similar to ours. He wanted to do well in his schooling. He wanted to be successful. He wanted, ultimately, to impress his father. Of course, this was and is no easy feat. His father, Hans Luther, required his son to be a lawyer before he would award him with a father's pride.

Much of Martin's young life was centered around this pursuit; he was actively moving towards knowledge and wealth. He wanted to please his parents and he hated school... seems like a pretty regular guy, I suppose.

(Here comes the part of every story where something interesting and crazy and dramatic happens! Ready?)

One dark evening, Martin was riding on a horse [ordinary] on an ordinary trip he decided to take back home from his university [ordinary]. It was raining [ordinary]. He was wet [mind-blowing]. He was ready to be done with this long, wet trip, when all of the sudden, an enormous thunderstorm hit [crazy!] The rain drove his horse crazy [crazy!] He fell off [crazy!] He feared the wrath of God!

[...umm... not super crazy.]

Let me explain; everyone believed in "God" back then. Germany in the 1500's experienced domination by the Catholic Church; and while few knew anything about the character or nature of God, they all feared Him because the Catholic church told them to.

This was a large part of the upbringing of Martin Luther. His family frequently payed money to the church through what was known as "indulgences" in order to supposedly bring eternal peace to their dead relatives. This practice had begun almost 400 years ago because of the belief that man had to face both spiritual and physical suffering to atone for his sin.

The fear of the Church is very different from the fear of God; however, they held a similar weight in Martin's head. On that night, in his incredible fear, Martin shouted to St. Anne that he would become a monk if he was saved from the storm.

St. Anne wasn't listening to his plea, but I'm quite certain God heard it.

Martin survived that awful storm and made good on his promise. He entered the nearest Augustinian monastery and studied the religious texts vigorously. Outwardly, he was a good monk... But inwardly, he was dying. He once said this: "I lost touch with Christ the Savior and Comforter, and made of him the jailer and hangman of my poor soul."

That cry from the soul of Luther expressed the reality that he deeply hated God. In his eyes, God was nothing more than a demon that took pleasure in the torment of humans. This God that the Catholic Church had created was a God of fear and darkness that accepted only outward deeds as expressions of submission and appeasement.

Luther was righteously angry, but not just for his sake. He was angry because it took him months of studying Scripture in a language that was foreign to the people before he got even a glimpse of the truth. This system prevented the people of Germany from ever knowing the one true God. This system meant money instead of meaning and corruption instead of clarity. This system is best explained by an identical situation happening during the time of the prophet Micah, thousands of years before:

"Her heads judge for a bribe,

Her priests teach for pay,
And her prophets divine for money.
Yet they lean on the LORD, and say,
“Is not the LORD among us?
No harm can come upon us.” (Micah 3:11)

Luther was ready to prove that the Lord was not among these people.

The devil tortured him during his work, but he knew it was worth it. He believed in the story that Jesus told of the two men; one a religious legalist, the other a tax-collecting sinner. Perhaps Luther knew this account, where the religious man, in front of the whole city, praised God for his own accomplishments and goodness. Perhaps Luther felt like the other man, the one who wouldn't even lift his eyes, but rather beat his chest and pleaded forgiveness for his great sins towards a great God.

Luther's discovery was so simple for us, but so mind-blowing for him: that God in Christ brings about justification by faith provided through the Holy Spirit. It wasn't the church and it wasn't him; it was only Him.

This was the time when he tapped into the words of Jesus: "know the truth and it will set you free." The truth that he found while exploring the Scriptures was slowly setting him free from sin and guilt in a way that the Catholic Church could not. For, his debt was against God, and God had forgiven that debt. Of course it was impossible for the Church to do this. He was determined to share this heavenly freedom with the people of Germany.

Luther got to work. His writing came about as you imagine it would; lots of sleepless nights, lots of sweating palms, and lots of prayer.

"There is no divine authority for preaching that the soul flies out of the purgatory immediately the money clinks in the bottom of the chest... The word of God suffers injury if, in the same sermon, an equal or longer time is devoted to indulgences than to that word... The true treasure of the church is the Holy gospel of the glory and the grace of God... Christians should be exhorted to be zealous to follow Christ, their Head, through penalties, deaths, and hells; And let them thus be more confident of entering heaven through many tribulations rather than through a false assurance of peace."

These are a just a few excerpts from his 95 Theses. On October 31, 1517, he sent a letter containing all of the Theses to his Bishop, Albert of Mainz. You can probably guess what Bishop Albert's response was.

So many things transpired after this, it's hard to keep a clear account. The most important event came on April 18, 1521, when, after years of establishing Sola Fida (Faith Alone), Martin Luther was commanded to appear before the Diet of Worms. Sounds gross, right? Not quite. A Diet was simply a formal, deliberate gathering of Catholic leaders, and this Diet took place in the city of Worms.

This is where Luther faced his decision. Was he going to give up on this stupid ambition? Please; he wanted to change the world against all odds.

Or, was he going to fight for a truth that surpasses earthly knowledge? That surpasses earthly pain? That surpasses earthly peace?

The end of his story is pretty uninteresting. Actually, his whole life is kind of boring! It all pales in comparison with the glory of the Gospel that he helped people to understand.

His answer, however, I'll let you hear.

“Since then your sere Majesty and your Lordships seek a simple answer, I will give it in this manner, neither horned nor toothed. Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason (for I do not trust either in the pope or in councils alone, since it is well known that they have often erred and contradicted themselves), I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. May God help me. Amen."

---

“And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

Andrew

Today's Stories - The Folks

I'm beginning this story at 1:10 AM. I'm in the office right now at my desk, while my mom is at her's. I'm writing this Story and she's working on stuff for tomorrow (technically today.) It's a big day for our family... but more on that later. Right now, the big thing to understand is that there are two people in this room; one of them is sacrificial, wise, and pretty much invincible. The other one has a lot to learn from the first one. You can probably guess who's who.

---

I began writing this Story just a little bit ago. My whole life began a much longer long time ago in a galaxy far away called Fountain Valley. A bunch of complicated, slightly nasty stuff went on, and then, poof! an adorable (and slightly nasty) little Andrew appears.

Fast forward a few months. Simply put, my existence was challenging because I was a newborn who's life was not promised nor guaranteed. My parents wanted to keep me as safe and healthy as possible, and sometimes the measures they took were great for their own well being via my health. I, without knowing it or attempting to cause it, had stepped into a world where I had two Godly, caring parents that were worried for the health of their fourth son.

As you can probably guess, I can't tell you this from my stellar memory (I don't actually remember any of it.) I know all of this because I read from my dad's family journal when I was around 11... and it was incredibly eye opening. He poured out all of his and mom's emotions when I was an infant so that we as kids could read them in the future. It was really challenging to read because my health caused my parents so much worry and stress for lots of reasons that we don't need to go into. Suffice it to say, my parents sacrificed so much to ensure my physical health as a child.

Fast forward a few years. I remember the night fairly vividly for being four years old. I was in my bedroom, holding my old Angels Rally Monkey (my favorite stuffed animal at the time) with my special blue blankie and my siblings jumping around on the beds. It was that night that a process known as Justification was accomplished by God through Christ... But try telling that to four-year old Andrew. That night, I was saved! I was pretty excited. I remember running around church that week telling all sorts of people about it.

Anywho, I could tell you all about the sovereignty of God in my salvation and what that means and where it comes from in scripture... and that's very important, but I think it's also important that my parents haven't lived a day in the past 16 years without caring about my soul. It was displayed when they desired to share the gospel of Christ with me and it's displayed right now as I talk with my dad late at night trying to sort everything out or come to my mom with needs or questions that she willingly answers. Suffice it to say, my parents have sacrificed and do sacrifice so much to ensure my spiritual health.

Fast forward a lot of years to two weeks ago. My brother just got married. It was a splendid day, and everything went incredibly well. However, you can probably imagine how stressful it was. There were so many decisions to be made and a million billion details to be worked out. In the end, most of this stress fell upon my mother. But guess what? She did it. On that wonderful, crazy Saturday, my brother was successfully married and my parents never stopped giving everything to make it a perfect day for him and his bride.

Where did I fit into all of this wedding-ness? That's right; I was the labor crew. I got there early get the house ready. I handed out the wedding programs. I moved chairs. I helped the older people get to their seats. All of these little tasks were doled out to me one after another by my mom, and while I was happy to help... I guess I wasn't always happy to help. What kept me going was the influence of my parents; ever since I was young, they've made it very clear that we as siblings are to bear each other's burdens. To mourn when another is mourning, and to rejoice when another is rejoicing. Whether that means cleaning up the house for a sibling's birthday party or going to a far away event, that's just what a family does... and I'm so thankful that my parents have pushed and instilled that into us. Suffice it to say, my parents have sacrificed so much to ensure our family's relational health.

And, yeah. That pretty much wraps up our story today. My parents love Jesus, and that has the hugest difference in the world in every aspect of life.

So, as it's said... Mom and Dad, "I am eternally grateful."

Andrew

Yesterday's Stories - David

Hi everyone! Thanks for tuning in for today's Story, where we'll be focusing on a man very different from me. Okay, besides the facts that he's Jewish and royal and at this point seriously dead. On top of those things, I differ from this man in the way I treat everyone. You've probably experienced the challenge that came to this man of Yesterday: how far are you willing to go for God?

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No one had mourned like David mourned.

He was scarred. He was hurt. He felt like something huge was missing. That something's name was Jonathan, and he'd been gone for months.

David sat on his roof thinking about the incredible times they shared together. The two of them fighting against the Philistines and destroying hundreds of enemy soldiers together. The two of them spending their intrepid lives together and being there for one another. Jonathan saving his life countless times from Jonathan's decaying and jealous father, Saul.

His name, Jonathan, literally meant 'Jehovah-given', and David believed that. Their pacts of friendship and brotherhood hadn't ended, and truly, they never would end. David thought of the sacrifices that Jonathan had made for him. He would have died for David, even at the hands of his father if it came to that. They had a very real friendship, and David remembered it with both fondness and depression.

All their times ended abruptly when Jonathan was killed in battle against the Philistines. The two of them were fighting on different areas of the field, and David left after he destroyed the enemy. The news of Jonathan's death came from a messenger who told of Jonathan's valiant death fighting next to two of his brothers.

David put his thoughts onto paper and wrote,

“Saul and Jonathan were beloved and pleasant in their lives, And in their death they were not divided; They were swifter than eagles, They were stronger than lions."

Through all of this, David realized that at some point his mourning would have to stop. He was the King of Israel, after all. He would have to return to regular, ordinary life, but this time around, it would be a very different life: one without his closest friend and confidante.

Of course, David was not the only person affected by the death of Jonathan. Mephibosheth was Jonathan's only kin that still lived, and he was just five years old when war took his father's and grandfather's life. Because of the battles, Mephibosheth was hidden away, and David never heard anything of him after that.

David's heart filled with hope and fear one morning as he began contemplating what he ought to do moving forward. Jonathan was gone, but perhaps not all of Jonathan was gone.

Ziba, the servant of Saul was summoned very early one day to David's court and presented with a pivotal question by the King himself: "Is there still anyone who is left of the house of Saul, that I may show him the kindness of God for Jonathan’s sake?"

The answer wasn't much of a challenge for Ziba, but it was for David. "There is a son of Jonathan who is lame in both feet," Ziba said. "His name is Mephibosheth."

David was ecstatic. For, his love for Jonathan would not end at Jonathan's death; rather, their bond would continue through Jonathan's flesh and blood.

While David was making preparations, Ziba sat in his quarters shocked. He was nearly certain that David had missed the part about Mephibosheth being paralyzed from the waist down; he was a social outcast, capable of nothing in this world. If teenagers back then had called Mephibosheth lame, they, quite literally, would have been right. Ziba was in no position to reprimand the king, though. So, he decided to sit back and watch things unfold.

Everything was prepared, and the day of Mephibosheth's arrival came. As he was carried into the King's hall, Mephibosheth wasn't smiling. He wasn't attempting to bow. He wasn't singing to the King.

Mephibosheth was sitting on his mat with his face in his hands, weeping.

Never in his entire life had this happened to him. He had been seen as worthless by most, and worse than that by others. Never had anyone, especially a King, seen him as valuable, or worthwhile, or treasured.

David gave him a short introduction about his relationship with Jonathan and his desire to bless Mephibosheth. Mephibosheth didn't hear much of it. He was busy wiping his tears, and after that, he, still in shock and disbelief, said “What is your servant, that you should show regard for a dead dog such as I?”

It was made very clear that David would never view him as a dead dog. David promised to show him the love that he had shown his father, and that Mephibosheth would eat at the King's table all of his life. In fact, David treated him like his own son.

All of Mephibosheth's imperfections were quickly and radically overlooked by King David. It came as an absolute surprise to Ziba and the rest of the house of David, that this outcast would be adopted as a son.

Perhaps you can see the similarities between this story and the story of the Gospel, but David puts into practice what we take for granted; that God in Christ would sacrifice His life for us so that we might be adopted into His family. We look at the deformed Mephibosheth and think it incredible that David could love him so easily, but I think we need to look more closely at our deformed, depraved, disgusting selves and praise God for His great love; a love that was infinitely, unabashedly demonstrated by His death on the Cross.

This all ought to bring us back to that question we posed at the start: how far are you willing to go for God? Here's what the answer should look like: as far as He went for me.

---

"What a friend we have in Jesus..."

Andrew

Today's Stories - Me

My life feels kind of unbalanced sometimes, kind of like a teeter totter... that isn't balanced. Maybe the same is true for you; that 1) you're terrible with analogies, and 2) you're worried about your actions and whether or not they're truly honoring to God. Today's Story isn't about me because I'm a marvelous, ineffably sublime human being. Woah. Lies. Many lies. This story is about me, because in my generic doofus-ness, I've learned some pretty incredible things. Here they are.

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My first self-realization: I'm unaware of important realities around me too often. I saw this pretty clearly beginning a few months ago. It was lunch time after church (you all know what that's like) and my parents decided to take me and my siblings to Mongolian barbecue. The food was abnormally delicious. Like, mind-bogglingly tasty. Like, I should stop thinking about it because it's making me hungry. Anywho, we were eating and talking and stuff, and I felt like being funny, so I said: "Okay, Mrs. [Thomas] is pretty awesome. She basically runs the whole church and can harmonize like a boss."

At the time, it seemed legit. This lady, whom we're calling Mrs. Thomas is one of the head administrators at our church. She's responsible for events and organization and... it seemed at the time like everything except head preaching. And she really can harmonize like a boss.

Obviously, it was a slight exaggeration, but I did make it to my brother's Twitter with that quote. So, yeah. Much proudliness points for Andrew.

My quote didn't come up again for quite some time.

Enter important reality. It's kind of boring, but it really struck me.

Becoming a church member has been something I've been wanting to do for a while, so I printed out the form to do so and read it. Part of the form dealt with understanding and agreeing with the church's statements of faith as found in the constitution and bylaws of the church. I knew those documents existed, I'd just never taken the time to read them. Well, it was time to read them.

Y'know what I found? I'm dumb. That's what.

Basically, the constitution and bylaws have a ton of information for leadership roles in the church and who does what and how council meetings should go and what discipline should look like and how to resolve disputes and how to vote for deacons/deaconesses... I was kind of blown away by what was there. Not because it lulled me to sleep, but because I saw how sincerely my church leaders cared about creating an accountable, God-honoring set of rules that exemplify the Scriptures. Reading it made me think back to the idea of who runs our church. Not the senior pastor, not Mrs. Thomas.

Just God.

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My second self-realization: I forget about the planks in my eyes too often... and it is so easy.

A few weeks ago, it was Christmastime! Yay! As usual, our church had a small Christmas cantada, with music and candlelight and singing about the birth of Jesus. It's always a wonderful time, and I wanted to share that with our neighbors. So, I wrote on some sticky notes saying that it would be great to have them there and attached the notes to our bulletin inserts about the event. Sadly, however, I wasn't going to have time to give the invitations to our neighbors. Accordingly, I gave the invitations to my little brothers and asked them to walk around the cul-de-sac and put them in the mailboxes when they had time.

Flash back to the reason why I wouldn't have time: a speech tournament! I was preparing for this tournament the Monday before at my church where our club meets, and rode my bike to get there on time.

That Sunday, two things happened at the same time. My little brothers told me that they hadn't remembered to hand out the invitations like I asked, and my dad reminded me for the 5th time that the bike I rode on Monday had been left at church and he would have to bring it back that night.

Gosh, I was so mad about my little brothers forgetting such a simple task... I completely forgot about my own small responsibility of taking care of the bike.

That night, none of our neighbors came to the cantada and my dad had to ride the bike home from church. Good work, Andrew.

It made me think about the value of forgiveness. Not the kind that comes from me, or my dad, or my little brothers.

Just God.

---

My third self-realization: I think about myself too often. I'm sure you can relate. It's human nature... but just 'cause you can relate doesn't make it any less awful.

On December 19th, our family remembers a rather difficult day in our history. I won't go into the whole story, but will just say that now, whenever that day roles around, we like doing something special, just as a family.

Well, last time that day hit, the little guys and I were at home with our parents. Not a whole lot was going on, and we were sort of thinking of something to do that evening, but nothing came to mind. I wanted to make it special, but wasn't quite sure how.

We (little guys and I) were in the boy's bedroom throwing ideas around and whatnot, and I suggested we watch a movie. I had wanted to watch this particular film for a few days leading up to that, and I thought it would be fun to do and stuff. In my mind, it was perfect: I got to watch the movie and my family got to hang out for a while. Win win...

Until I got punched in the face by my little sister. And by punched in the face, I mean severely humbled.

While we were talking about what to do, Rebekah says in her completely adorable, regular voice: "What if we made dinner for mom, or gave mom and dad money to go to dinner together?"

I guess I don't really need to tell you how I felt after that.

It ended up being a very nice night where we had a regular dinner at home and didn't watch any movies. That made me think back to an important truth: we didn't need much more than our family and the One who put that night together for it to be special.

Just God.

---

"Love, we need it now. Let's hope for some."

Andrew

Yesterday's Stories - Mary and Martha

"Take out the trash. Do the dishes. Make your bed. Stack chairs. Complete some ordinary, boring, exponentially droll task." These are the words of millions of people everyday. Accomplishing such jobs are simple acts ofservice. They're boring, and seemingly insignificant, but they aren't to be disregarded as useless. Jesus had quite a lot to say about this servitude, and His actions were always much louder than His words. Ultimately, service is to be a pretty significant portion of a Christian's life. Or is it?

---

Martha kept on feeling the sting of just how menial her life was. It was as if she was some kind of Jewish scribe, sitting, never moving, never having fun. Then again, Jewish scribes got paid for their work. She didn't.

Day in and out, sitting there, completing necessary, but seemingly purposeless acts. This was Martha. A Jewish woman in her early 30's. Two siblings. A house. Not a lot to enjoy. Ever since the passing of these sibling's mother, Martha had stepped up to the role of the responsible, sage one in the house. She swept, she cleaned, she prepared food. She didn't get out much. One of her few pleasures in life came from strangers seeing the beauty of her home. She took plenty of pride in that.

Then, there was Mary. Martha had always described her as three things: A bomb, a butterfly, and a bum.

She had this supernaturally powerful propensity to talk and talk and talk and talk. She loved being with people, experiencing things, laughing, eating, and generally getting out of the stuffy house her sister spent so much time in. Being out, however, resulted in her not helping with many of the chores. Martha wasn't super fond of that.

Now, it's not like Mary and Martha disliked each other. They just had plenty of differences, which occasionally made it difficult to get along and communicate properly. And of course, if they weren't great at getting along regularly, you can just imagine what it was like for them when something controversial was going on around them.

"That Jesus... He just sounds so wonderful! What do you think, Martha?"

"Don't be naive, Mary. Anyone can go around telling stories about themselves and how great they are! Very few people are actually great, though."

"But everyone's been talking about Him. Seriously. Like, everyone. He seems to have this wild effect on people, and no one can explain it. Isn't that exciting?"

"I'd love to think so, Mary, but there are bigger problems in my world that need to be solved before we turn to some wild man claiming to be God."

"You just lack faith. You don't care about anything."

"Ha! At least I'm responsible, and know how to care for things!"

"You... that's a lie! I can be responsible!"

"Wouldn't that be a lovely change."

"Hmph."

"Hmph."

Their relationship was at a standstill like this for a long time. They both felt like chocolate pudding scraped across too much ham. Mary always stretching Martha by being irresponsible and idle, and Martha doing the same to Mary by being this boring, emotionless stickler.

Something had to change. They both wanted it, but that desire was outweighed by their individual stubbornness. Stinks, right?

Finally, Martha thought. Something interesting. Something exciting. Something where she would get to prove herself right to Mary once and for all. He was coming to their town after weeks of enthusiasm and impatience. It was Jesus.

Finally, Mary thought. Something interesting. Something too cool to be true! Something where she might get Martha to see her side of things. The right side of things. He was coming into their town after weeks of enthusiasm and impatience. It was Jesus.

Okay, technically, that was just a rumor. Mary had heard from a friend who heard from a friend who heard from a friend that He was considering stopping by Bethany, their town. But still.

It was the morning of. Martha got up before the first hour to make sure everything was especially lovely in the house. Whether or not He was the Messiah, she was going to prove to Mary that responsibility was the way to go. This was it.

It was the morning of, and Mary got up at the third hour. She was impressed by her own skill. And nervousness. She spent most of the morning making sure she looked as beautiful as could be. Whether or not He was the Messiah, she was going to prove to Martha that the right words and enough faith can get you anywhere in life. This was it.

And... nothing happened. They were waiting for some crazy awesome "Bum-bu-du-duh!" and fanfare and flower girls dancing ahead and this beautiful white steed and this shockingly good looking man... and it didn't happened. In fact, it took quite a while for them to recognize that apparently, that wasn't Jesus' style. When He finally did arrive, they learned that He had been in the city for more than an hour before anyone recognized Him. He was accompanied by nothing more than a few other men, something common for a Jewish rabbi.

That's so cheap, thought Martha.

That's so classy, thought Mary.

Martha was reluctant to head out of the house, as it wasn't quite ready for guests, but she did anyway. He was less than a mile away. It was time.

Mary was still getting ready when she saw Martha head out. She couldn't wait! This guy was the talk of the town. It was time.

The next hour went by like a whirlwind: Martha inviting Jesus and His companions into the house, serving a meal, and finally, Mary found herself at Jesus' feet.

This was like nothing she had ever experienced. This Guy wasn't just a smart teacher or a cool dude; this Jesus was the real deal. His words hit Mary like bullets of truth, greatness, and awesomeness. After the huge shallowness she experienced in her own life, how refreshing it was to meet someone who could explain God, and the Torah, and the prophets, and life to her! Snap, she thought. He is amazing.

Mary, Martha thought, how typically lazy of you to not help dust the floors or clean the house after mealtime. It had gone too far. Martha was fed up.

She walked (okay, stomped) right over to Jesus, and said “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.”

She was worried. What if Jesus sided with Mary? What if He wouldn't even talk to her? What if the house wasn't good enough?

“Martha, Martha," He said, "you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Mary was watching on this whole time with sadness. Look at Martha, she thought, working her tail-end off for me and Jesus so that we can have a nicer time. Can I really blame her for working hard and being responsible? Is she right, after all?

Martha, having just been blown away by Jesus' words, was disappointed that He sided with Mary. It was clear she was doing something wrong.

Look at Mary, she thought, sitting there, looking lovely, doing something truly good and not worrying about the things of the world. Isn't that what this Jesus is all about? Is she right, after all?

At that moment, both the sister's did something that they hadn't done in quite a long time, and wouldn't know about for quite a long time.

She is my sister, they both thought. Maybe, just maybe, she's right, and there's something I desperately need to learn from her life.

---

"A warm body don't mean I'm alive."

Andrew