Why Conspire?

For the last few weeks our church has been discussing “Advent Conspiracy” and how we as followers of Jesus are called to live especially during the Christmas season. There are four themes or practical applications: “Worship Fully, Spend Less, Give More, Love All” and it has all the feelings of idealistic change and charging in and living radically and getting caught up in the something big. (Obviously I am exaggerating wildly so I’d recommend you check it out for yourself.) My life and schedule are a little chaotic right now and carrying around a growing baby inside me doesn’t help so maybe that’s why it all sounded overwhelming and, frankly, unappealing to me. Something along the lines of, “Ughhh, I just don’t have time to radically change the entire landscape of Christmas commercial culture right now. Maybe next year.”

It all just seemed a little too big to carry home from church and do something with, until I started thinking about it.

Strangely enough, when I started considering the implications of “spending less” and “giving more” and the impact on my schedule and priorities this holiday season, the first emotion I felt was RELIEF. As if for the first time ever, I realized I had a choice in how I spent my time and money from Thanksgiving to Christmas. It almost felt euphoric, like a kid running out of school on last day of class. I felt FREE. If Christmas is all about Jesus and Jesus cares like crazy about people, could that mean I am free to care about the things on my heart - on Jesus’ heart - at Christmastime and not a set schedule of obligations I have to follow?

I don’t mean to imply that every past Christmas season has been a list of tasks I begrudgingly accomplish. But I do mean that there’s something about taking authority over my choices that I didn’t feel I had before- the ability to say no to things that don’t matter and say yes to the people to do matter. For example, I love giving gifts that make people feel known and loved. But often times, that means I drive myself crazy trying to find sales in order to afford more lavish gifts instead of something smaller or simpler. What really matters is loving that person well and that doesn’t need to include them feeling “spoiled” by the amount of money I spend on them.

This season, my “Advent Conspiracy” change might be as small and simple as taking time to catch up with a friend over hot chocolate or planning some extra movie nights with my family and a little less time spending a fortune on Christmas cards. That’s okay, because what I am most excited about is a newfound perspective that allows me to see this Christmas full of joy and cheer and as the celebration that it truly is. 

Jessica Noblett

Donuts, Gas Stations and Provision

I grew up in a house where we didn’t hold on too tightly to money. My parents’ faith taught me so much as I saw how they trusted God for provision. And provision wasn’t – or wasn’t only – money or a paycheck. Provision was also groceries left on our front steps or a car starting every day when it should have broken down or even a box of donuts brought to us when we all missed getting Dunkin’ Donuts on Saturday mornings.  Things weren’t always that way but I love looking back to when we saw God tangibly provide exactly what we needed – down to boxes of donuts. 

My practical education in trusting God to provide equipped with me something wonderful- freedom. I definitely don’t walk in complete faith or freedom but I also know I don’t have to worry or be bogged down by fear of money. I can trust instead that God’s perfect provision will come through with exactly what I need. It started with boxes of donuts but I’ve seen His hand in school, cars, houses, jobs and relationships. 

So isn’t it a little strange that in the midst of all of that big, life-changing freedom, I still get caught up in the tiny every day lies?

As a server, I know I drive people crazy by talking a lot about tipping generously and graciously. I think it’s worth talking about because I truly believe Jesus wants to use us and the way we tip to tangibly bless people and show them His love. I also believe that for ourselves, God calls us to tip generously because He wants to redeem us from fear and stinginess and trying to provide for ourselves and all the other reasons we can be terrible tippers. 

Most recently, I experienced the curse of stinginess at gas stations. Until my brother worked at a gas station I had no idea tipping was even a thing or that the guy who pumped my gas would have even an inkling of a hope of a tip. I mean, did you guys know that?! Not a clue.
Once I knew though… and realized how hard my brother worked and how often and consistently he was treated poorly by customers, it changed everything. When I went to the gas station I wanted that attendant to know that I appreciated their work, that I noticed them and they had value. But then, at the same time, a funny thing would happen. Fear would creep up the back of my neck and my thoughts would start racing – we only budget so much a week for gas so is this wise?!? Can we afford this?!? What if something happens and we need that money?!
Honestly, none of those are even rational thoughts in the context of a $3 tip but there they were anyway. Apparently, I can grasp that God will provide me with an entire car, but I still struggle to believe he has power over even a few dollars. 

Until I remembered – I am blessed to be a blessing and my provision comes from God. Sure, that also includes living within my means and being a good steward but not the way Christians so often seem to use it as an excuse for greediness. I’m still left with miles of room to bless someone.

My brother doesn’t pump gas anymore but I still tip my attendant. I look forward to it because it’s exciting to have an opportunity to bless someone so tangibly.  More than that – for my own sake I’ve realized it’s important to exercise generosity so that I don’t get rusty and forget where my provision really comes from. 

Jessica Noblett

Reaching Into the Unknown

My life right now is all about the unknown. There almost isn’t a question you could ask me about my life in 3, 6 or 12 months that I have an answer to other than “wherever God says next.” 

Of course, because of my severe control issues (also known as FDD or “Flexibility Deficit Disorder”) I learn big lessons about letting go and embracing God’s timing and trusting His character every time I hit a life transition such as this. 

This time feels a little different because I think I’m also learning about being proactive and not just reactive even when I have no idea what’s happening next. My natural instinct is to only react: to go kicking and screaming all the way- and who among us is really any different? I don’t know anyone who looks forward with joyful anticipation to any change they can’t predict, control or understand ahead of time. It’s just plain scary. It’s the same feeling I have when I watch a movie without first seeing a preview or knowing anything about it. I have no idea what will happen next or what the big storyline is. 

In this case, I don’t know if we’ll be moving this year or when that will happen or if I’ll need to change jobs. There’s very little I can predict or even guess. My tendency in the face of that would be to make plans anyway, add up pros and cons lists, research the best season to move and develop three back up plans, just to be safe. 

And all of that would be in vain. I’ll still wait until God says “go” or “stay” and that will have nothing to with the weather or what I see in front of me. 

All this to say, the lesson in waiting on God isn’t only about not running in circles as I try to weigh the odds of what will happen next. It’s about showing up where I still am. Now. I’m learning to be faithful in what God has already given me. I may be surrounded by my neighbors and co-workers and community for another two months or two years but either way I’m called to love them.

Until the day comes for something new, I’ll show up where I am now and trust that God will do the rest. 

Jessica Noblett

Not Even a Sparrow

The other day I was trying to not worry about money, budgeting, car repairs and all of those kinds of fun, "grown up" responsibilities, which really led to more worry and worrying about worry. Then I was reminded of a verse about fear and worry... Except all I could remember was something about "not even a sparrow."

I was reminded as some random bird sang very loudly outside my window. It was the kind of chirping bird you hear early in the morning and not the kind you want to hear when you're trying to concentrate on worrying. 

"Stop it, God." I thought.

The bird sang louder.

"I see what's going on here. It's not going to work." I thought louder, to drown out the bird. 

The bird broke into a complicated Beethovenesque melody. 

Unbelievable. 

I finally gave in and looked up the verse I was so faultily remembering. It actually says this, 

“What’s the price of a pet canary? Some loose change, right? And God cares what happens to it even more than you do. He pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail—even numbering the hairs on your head! So don’t be intimidated by all this bully talk. You’re worth more than a million canaries. (Matthew 10:29-31 MSG)

I'm not saying conquering worry is as easy as reading a verse but it was a powerful visual for me. God knows exactly what's going on even down to the fate of a canary. 

I like the way the English Standard Version pinpoints specifically who's in charge. It says, "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. "

It's easy to get tunnel vision and believe that our lives are so full of complicated cracks and crevices that no one else can understand or navigate. It's a necessary reminder that if not even a bird can miss a step without God deciding, whatever I'm dealing with can't be out of His reach. 

Jessica Noblett

Redeeming Stubbornness

On this particular day I’m realizing how quickly we take things at face value and forget the Spirit inside us. 

Fine. I’ll take back the “we.” Maybe you do an excellent job of listening to the leading of the Holy Spirit each and every day and you can skip down the end. 

I almost always forget to listen to the Holy Spirit. 

I am also a person of passionate, quick opinions. I will not hesitate to call what I see as good, bad, right, wrong, stupid, hilarious or insufferable. I’m like a mutant version of Adam in the Garden; name it and move on to the next. 

Everyone has a reason for why I’m so opinionated; in fact, they have quite strong opinions of their own. It’s because I’m Italian. It’s because I’m a woman. It’s because I’m from New Jersey. Or (most fearful of all) it’s because I am the dreaded Italian Jersey Woman. 

I think it comes from the deep, stubborn essence of my soul that likes to make decisions and stick with them. It’s there and it’s who I am. I have to believe God has it there for a reason other than scaring small children; a holy tenacious purpose. When stubbornness is used for good, it changes names and becomes “tenacity” which sounds much holier. 

I’ve realized that in the crossroad of my forgetfulness of the Spirit and stubbornness-not-yet-fully-redeemed-to-tenacity there is a huge problem: this isn’t how I am supposed to live. I miss so much when I scurry about and never stop to listen to the quiet force of the Holy Spirit. I miss so much when I make an opinion, call it true and move on. Jesus never called me to be a species that takes things at face value and lives my life contently bobbing on the surface. It definitely isn’t how I am called to love His people. 

On a daily basis, I walk around thinking I understand people and making judgment calls on who they are and what they do and whether it’s right or wrong- and I do this because I think I have them pegged. In reality, I know nothing. I don’t know the pain they carry every day or what they deal with at home or what keeps them up at night. 

What if I took the time to stop and listen to the Spirit’s quiet, persistent nudges? Maybe I would also stop and listen better to the people around me, what they are really telling me about who they are and how they need to be loved. 

As the lazy, lounging days of summer approach, my heart needs to spend some time hanging out and taking a look around. I’m going to pack up my quick opinions with my winter clothes and give slowing down a chance. 

Jessica Noblett

The Freedom of Limits

This past Sunday was an exciting day for me because my brother and sister in law dedicated their baby daughter in the second service. Ara Faith is pretty much everyone’s favorite person right now and it was incredibly special to stand up there with Dan and Holly as they declared that Ara belongs to God. 

I thought that was that, but after the service I started connecting the dots between Ara’s dedication and Nate’s sermon about knowing our limits and how God wants the gospel to shape our limits. 

It’s so easy to take what God calls our limits and call them something else instead- like failure or incompetence or not trying hard enough. We’re a culture of go-getters and nothing is supposed to be able to stand in our way. Of course, that isn’t how it really works and we end up discouraged and frustrated, always a few steps away from the life we think we’re supposed to have or the person we think we’re supposed to be. 

Despite that reality, finding freedom in my limits still seems like a ridiculous contradiction. I think it’s because I usually associate freedom with independence, and independence means I control everything and never have to give up. (I’m pretty sure that kind of thinking reveals that being American shapes my theology more than the Bible does, but that’s a WHOLE OTHER STORY.)

Okay, back on track- finding freedom in our limits. I can’t think of a better practical example of the joy and blessing that comes from knowing your limits than what I saw in Ara’s dedication. I loved seeing the tangible action that Dan and Holly took because they know they cannot give Ara everything she needs. They cannot completely protect her; they cannot shape or control her or her life to make it perfect or happy. They acknowledged that reality and gave her back to God and in doing so they experience the freedom of not having to perfectly accomplish those things alone. 

I’m not a parent but I do know that nothing is ever that easy and simple. But I think maybe that’s the beauty of knowing your limits. Limits don’t mean the end of everything, they’re just the end of our capabilities and the place God can step in and do something more. 

I’m excited to begin this process of embracing my limits – not as failures – but as opportunities to step out in faith and know that God will meet me there. 

Jessica Noblett

Why I Love the "Magic" of Lent

As strange as it sounds, when it comes to things that come around every year, the Lenten season is my favorite. I get excited about Lent the way kids feel about Christmas and the coming of Santa Claus. My senses tingle with anticipation. It feels magical.

I don't embrace Lent because it's religious or because I have to. Sometimes Lent is only seen as part of a list of rules that need to be followed and I just don’t see the point of that. I see Lent as an opportunity and you certainly don’t have to take it.

How I experience Lent changes year to year and I usually decide based on what I've been noticing God doing in my life. 

Sometimes Lent is about me adding something to my life: more time meditating on God’s word, more time with community, etc.

Sometimes it's about sacrifice that will remind me to turn to God instead. For example, if I give up caffeine, I have an opportunity to remember Jesus and that He is all I really need every time I crave a cup of coffee (that really is just an example, I haven’t been brave enough to try it.) 

Sometimes I sacrifice because even something that can be good has become too big in my life and I need to take a step back. This is usually the most difficult for me because it touches on things like social media or how I spend my money.

The bottom line is giving Jesus some extra elbowroom. I want more space in my life for Jesus to move, to speak and to shake out what shouldn’t be there. 

One year in college I gave up Facebook for Lent because I recognized it was taking up a lot of my time. A couple weeks later I broke my fast just to make sure a guy had my phone number. Now if Lent is about rules and only rules then I broke my fast and I’m a failure and that’s the end of that. But I love the idea of Lent being an opportunity for Jesus to clean house. I’m so thankful I broke my fast because it opened my eyes to a much bigger area of sin and control in my life- needing people to tell me what I’m worth.

I get so excited about Lent has the potential to tangibly display the essence of the Gospel- that Jesus doesn’t get boxed into only fixing what we think needs fixed. Jesus isn’t limited to whatever I think I need. Lent is just me taking a step in the right direction, making my own minuscule attempt and having faith that Jesus will do so much more. 

By the way, what I said earlier about Lent feeling “magical”? That might not be the right word but “Holy” definitely is. Lent is all about the anticipation of Easter- reminding us that Jesus came to earth and changed everything and He’s promised to come back. Why not start the celebration early?!

Jessica Noblett

Heart Checklist

I spent some time this week trying to look over my heart and sort of take stock. It’s easy for me to get caught up in what I hear, or think I hear, God saying in the moment so I think it’s important to step back every once in awhile and look at the big picture. (Actually, it’s probably important to that more than every once in awhile.)

Here’s what came up: I am most consistently convicted about the way I spend my time and the way I use my words. 

Honestly, that’s nothing new. It’s sort of like running through a checklist of things I’m still bad at. It’s roll call and we’re all still present. 

“I want to be a person who loves well. But that doesn’t start the way I often think it does.”

This time, however, I started connecting the dots in a way I don’t think I have before.

I tend to spend my time pretty selfishly and the thing is, my time is not all about me. I guess it’s not really “my” time at all. Because I know from experience that love changes everything and a first step to loving someone is making time for them. It’s like we’re biologically incapable of not responding to that kind of love. When someone doesn’t just tell you, but shows you that you’re important, it changes you. Everyone wants to be loved, appreciated and accepted and we all respond to attention. 

My time is about loving people well but I think my words are linked to something deeper inside: being a person capable of loving people well. After all, from the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.

What I’m realizing is that the role of the Gospel in my life isn’t mostly about me pointing other people to it. It’s easy for me to try to simplify the Gospel into “salvation” or even me living my life in ways that show other people who Jesus is. But I’m still in the middle of my own redemptive process of letting the Gospel change my life too.
I know that sounds a lot like textbook Sunday School recitation but the practical implications are huge. It means submitting my heart to Jesus’ total redemption because without it I’m no good to anyone.

I’ve been thinking lately about 1 Corinthians 10:23 where Paul says, “’All things are lawful’ but not all things are helpful.” (ESV) 

Okay, fine, that makes sense but I like this version better from the Message: "Looking at it one way, you could say, 'Anything goes. Because of God’s immense generosity and grace, we don’t have to dissect and scrutinize every action to see if it will pass muster.' But the point it not just to get by. We want to live well, but our foremost efforts should be to help others live well."

That comes down like a hammer in my life. Hard. So often I just want to get by. I want to take advantage of God’s grace and take a sick day. Honestly, it’s especially true when it comes to the words I use. It’s so easy for me to shrug it off with a “there’s grace for that” attitude. And there is. But that isn’t the point. To once again, quote C.S. Lewis, “(I) thought (I was) going to be made into a decent little cottage, but He is building a palace.”

Every time I try to halt construction because I think it isn’t a big deal, it doesn’t give me more time or ability to love someone else. I’m just as inept as ever. 

I want to be a person who loves well. But that doesn’t start the way I often think it does- by managing my time or biting my tongue or any other number of actions. It starts exactly where I don’t want to look, my own heart. 

Jessica Noblett

Confessions of a Sleepaholic

Let’s talk about sleep. More specifically, what you should know about me and sleep.

My roommates used to joke about my obsession with sleep. They’d laugh at the death threats I’d send them via text if they didn’t quiet down in the living room. They’d joke about the groggy monster I was in the morning, knocking over chairs and shoving them out of the way for a cup of coffee. I think they were using humor as a coping mechanism.

I still hold a small but potent grudge against a certain group of gentlemen who, during one of our church’s summer ministry internships, woke a group of us up at 6 am to “make us breakfast.” I’d never heard of such a cruel joke in my life. I begged the girls not to open the door. “They’ll go away eventually and we can all go back to sleep!” I cried. Breakfast smeakfast.

During my internship with UrbanPromise, a couple of my housemates woke my roommate and I up in the middle of the night with firecrackers. Again, just a harmless prank but I later wept to my best friend, asking her, “why do they hate me so much that they’d wake me up?!”

So yeah, sleep is kind of my thing.

During this week’s Sunday service as Nate talked about worshipping God fully I was honestly pretty frustrated. I wasn’t connecting to any of the examples he gave of what we worship instead of God. That’s not to say I don’t struggle with fear of money or fear of man or anything else but it just wasn’t hitting home deep in my heart. I kept saying to God, “okay I know I’m not perfect, I know I have idols, so where is the conviction I need?!” But throughout the service, I was mostly just distracted. I was sooo tired. I kept thinking about how uncomfortable I was, how exhausted, how frustrated that I had so much to get done after I left church and that I didn’t feel like doing any of it.

Then it finally hit me. That’s all I can think about? I know exactly what my idol is.

Because I’d had already hit the snooze buttons about 5 times too many and showed up to the service a half hour later because I valued sleeping more. I wasn’t paying attention to the service or meeting God because I was focused on what I wanted or thought I needed.  I was dreading making time for people throughout my time and week because I just wanted to crash in front of the TV and hibernate.

My idol is comfort. It slips past me so often because it just feels like I’m living life. It doesn’t show up in the big choices but in the smallest moments and most ordinary thoughts. But seeking my own comfort inhibits me from loving God and people every single day. Even as I confessed to only thinking about myself and what I wanted I started noticing the people around me that I wanted to talk with and bless and love. I try not to give too much credit to my emotions in moments like that, but the peace and joy I felt were unmatched by anything but what God gives. Honest to goodness freedom.

God calls me to love and worship him even in the little cracks and crevices of my heart where there’s usually no room for anyone’s desires but my own. I know to look to God in the big stuff but just like every real relationship, its about commitment in the ordinary daily stuff too. 

        Author: 

        Jessica 

         Noblett

Never Stop Doing Good To Me

Jessica Noblett

If there is one theme I see in the blogs I’ve written over these past months, it’s that God’s grace is never static. His purposes are so much bigger than a single person or a single story and His change and grace for one person always seems to also be a catalyst into change and grace for someone else. I think that’s what Nate meant on Sunday when he talked about God’s grace in us and God’s grace through us. 

During the Sunday service, Diana beautifully shared her story of how hard she tried to control her life and how graciously God changed her heart. She said things like -I’m paraphrasing here- she wanted to clean herself up first before she showed true self to Jesus and that she never considered herself in Christ but adjacent to him and always have to keep up to earn that place. 

I completely relate to that mindset, that stronghold, of trying to control my own life; especially the idea that God’s grace isn’t sufficient for me.

I’ve been working through a book called the Gospel Primer over the past few weeks and one of the journaling questions last week said, “how often in your faith journey and as a Christian have you felt like it was up to you to remain close to God?” I was immediately confused. The phrasing of the question made it seem like it wasn’t up to me to remain close to God but my instinctual first response was, “I always feel that way, because that’s the truth.” In fact, even though I have been following Jesus for what I could consider almost my entire life, I had to step back and think about what was actually true. I had to look for Bible verses to confirm it wasn’t up to me just to make sure I wasn’t letting myself off the hook too easily.

Sometimes I try to control things because I think I know best and because I want to do things my way. But other times… I think maybe I control things because I’m just trying to hold up my end of the bargain. God is so gracious and has done so much for me and I discount that very grace by assuming it’s only fair that I meet him halfway. 

During the worship time on Sunday when people spoke truth about God in the Bible verses they had read, someone said, “He will never stop doing good to me.” I’m pretty sure I started crying right then and there (and didn’t stop until the service was over.) He will never stop doing good to me. He reaches out even when I don’t. He is faithful when I’m not. He remains close. 

When I remember that and I take a deep breath and rest in that peace… it doesn’t end there. It makes me want to call up everyone I know and tell them to stop striving, stop controlling, stop doing. Because God’s grace is here and he will never stop doing good to us.

Dream Bigger

Jessica Noblett

I listened to this week’s sermon as I drove down the northeast extension of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, heading home from visiting my family in New York. It was serendipitous as God’s timing always is because a perfect metaphor of “what are you hoping for?” was unfolding before me.

The answer was easy enough- I was hoping and dreaming of getting home. The final destination included my wonderful husband, a hot shower, a nice soft bed (after a weekend of sharing a cot with a cousin) and central air conditioning. But while driving alone for six hours I noticed that I am easily distracted and particularly enticed by service plazas. Fast food! Coffee! Souvenir key chains! Trail mix! Fireworks! The cheapest fireworks in the state! More coffee!! I exchanged the “big dream” of getting home for the smaller, more tangible dream of a hot cappuccino from Starbucks more than once. 

It hit home. I settle for less and take my eyes off the prize all the time. In Nate’s words, “I exchange a worthy dream for a small dream.”

However, the big reveal for me happened in the sermon when Nate said that the life of a follower of Jesus includes holding on to “bigger vision without momentary satisfaction.” I know that’s probably difficult for any of us to fully grasp – its definitely counter-culture – but it could not be more extremely contrary to the life and breath of my generation. 

We can’t send a text message without wondering a minute later why we haven’t received a response. We have the TV show, movie or YouTube clip of our choice available on the screen of our choice at any given time. We’re used to receiving trophies for participating and medals just because we showed up. We need our tweets “favorited” and our Instagrams “liked” and if we’re honest, our existence completely revolves around affirmation and pats on the back. “You’re doing great!” “Keep going!” “I love it!” “You’re so smart!” We’re absolutely lost without them. Or at least I am. Six hours of driving without texting or Instagram? I picked up my phone every 15 minutes purely out of habit.

It’s clear to me why holding onto a bigger hope comes down to a question of faith, because the bottom line is if God isn’t giving me an “atta boy” I don’t think He’s paying attention and I begin to doubt what I’m doing makes any difference at all. 

But if holding on to faith is believing my efforts are not in vain and still matter in God’s kingdom instead of giving my attention to something small - I see how that’s a life worth living. 

In the brilliant words of C.S. Lewis, “we are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

I want to be finished with mud pies. Instead, I want to hold onto the assurances God has already given to us, like in 1 Corinthians 15 and hope for something so much more, so much bigger, than just what I see around me. I want to grow in faith so that I’m able to remember what’s true about God’s character and how He leads and loves his children instead of being distracted by so many worthless objects along the way. 

"Story Telling"

Jessica Noblett

Since I was a little girl, I’ve devoured books with an insatiable appetite. With three younger siblings running around, this was no easy feat and I developed the ability to shut out literally any noise and hear only the voices of the story. To this day, I whiz through novels in a matter of days, even hours. 

I love being immersed in another world and the hearts and minds of each character. But trying to escape through a book comes with a price and as a child I’d emerge at the end of each book, exhausted, hazy and blinking back into the real world. My world was not as exciting as whatever exotic land I’d been living in for those past few days and coming back down was a bumpy ride. 

I’m beginning to think that maybe I read the Bible the same way. Interesting characters, exciting plot twists, extreme weather conditions, supernatural encounters, good stories- and then back to real life. 

Because otherwise, isn’t it a little strange that we need to learn and be reminded of God’s plan for story telling? After all, I don’t think I know anyone whose relationship with Jesus wasn’t ignited, encouraged or nurtured by the stories of others. How forgetful we are. 

Ironically, one of my favorite Bible stories points to that very thing. It’s in the book of Joshua when God commands the Israelites to build the monument of 12 stones when they reach the other side of the Jordan River. He had them build the monument because otherwise after a generation or two they’d forget what God had done and He saw it coming. Or in Numbers when God tells the Israelites to wear tassels on their garments to remind them to “remember all the commandments of the Lord, to do them, not to follow after your own heart and own eyes.” (Numbers 15.39) 

We may think we’ve come a long way since then, but our memories are no better. These stories remind us that God knows exactly how wayward our hearts are and still remains faithful to us. 

All this to say: how truly incredible is it that one of God’s favorite ways to draw people to Him is through other people’s messy brokenness?! It is so comforting to me to see this constant promise of Jesus that not only will He redeem me, he’s so invested in my mess, so willing to see it through, that He even shows it off to other people and calls it “hope.”

How many of us have people in our lives who instead of shoving our crap in a closet, they show us off to everyone near and dear to them, proud of every inch of us? It’s a kind of love, a kind of acceptance, that’s practically unheard of.

It’s exactly the kind of love worth talking about.

Right Here. Right Now.

Jessica Noblett

As I've reflected on Sunday's sermon, those four words have echoed in my mind. The idea that God has set where I will go and live and the call to grow as a disciple and to make disciples is right where I am: right here, right now. 

The call isn't later in life, after my husband and I have bought a home, secured better jobs, freed up our weekends or honed our people skills (okay, well if you've met my husband you know that was never an issue to begin with.)

Honestly, when I step back and look at my life on a broader scale, I already know that living on mission and loving people like Jesus isn't something to wait on. In many ways I believe that my life does reflect that. But as I've thought about it over these past few days, I've realized the problem is that my excuses are more....daily.  

As a server, I don't always love my job but I love the people I work with. It seems like we are all at a turning point in our lives. Some are trying to get through school, some have been laid off from other jobs, some are single moms and some, like me, are servers because it was the job that was available. The bottom line is that waiting tables isn't the place any of us wants to be for the rest of our lives and one way to enjoy the job is by enjoying being with each other. It’s remarkable to see the unlikely friendships that have formed.

So here I am. God has placed me in a job not only with so many people who are ready to be known and loved but people that I truly enjoy being with. Right here. Right now. So what's the problem, right? The problem is the tiny excuses I make on a daily basis. I'm writing this on my day off and so far I have grocery shopped, done laundry, read a book and done just about everything I can to avoid spending time with other people. Because its my day off and I'd rather not. Not right here. Not right now. In the words of the effortless Scarlett O'Hara, I can't think about it today, I'll think about it tomorrow. 

Even though I believe I am committed to growing as a disciple and making disciples and everything that comes with it, when the small daily things pop up, I'm not as willing as I think I am. It can be so much easier to go on a mission trip than to show people at work who Jesus is on a daily basis is by watching my words or lending a hand when I'm exhausted. It doesn't come naturally but it is where I'm at and how I can love people well. That's the whole idea of letting Jesus into every area of my life.

The truth is, none of my tiny excuses stand a chance. As Nate said, living like Jesus makes me feel weak. It can be discouraging. It can even be, dare I say, irritating. But there is nothing else quite like stepping back and seeing how my life, my choices and my relationships have been changed by Jesus to line up with God's purposes. As painful as it can be, I love seeing God not satisfied in commanding the broad values of my life but stepping into the daily nitty-gritty to change my heart in the smallest decisions. Isn't that what it means to take up our cross daily and follow him?

Let's be encouraged, friends, that the call to grow as disciples begins one day at a time. I’m interested to know, what about this is hard for you? Or the opposite, comment here or on Facebook. What works for you when loving those around you?

The Poor, Logs, and Pharisees

This week’s service was a bit of a roller coaster for me.

The first part of the sermon was encouraging because I truly love hearing about Jesus’ heart for the downtrodden- for the poor, the broken, the shame-filled, the outcast and those in bondage. I love being reminded that Jesus is so for the people we naturally consider the least.

So yes, this week's sermon was right up my alley. That is, until the end of the service when Pastor Nate said something about all of this applying to every person in this room and, in some way  or another, we're all poor, broken, shame-filled, outcasts in bondage.

My heart drifted to the floor like a deflating balloon. Not because it's a shock that I one of those, but the reminder that I'm called to love all of the messy Jesus-followers with abandon too. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that my pharisaical heart loves people on my own terms, my ideals, my rules.

I love loving the poor, broken, shame-filled, outcasts in bondage who don't know Jesus.  Not always and not perfectly, but I see Jesus' heart for them and my heart aches th at they don't know the hope, grace and salvation that Jesus offers them. I love wading through their messiness with them. I love stories of tangible redemption (don’t we all?!)

On the other hand, I'm much less inclined towards the poor, broken, shame-filled, outcasts in bondage who are already following Jesus but still messy. I guess I want them to have it more figured out, to be further along, to have things fixed. I like making rules for Jesus followers to follow, even if it’s just in my head.

It's a classic example of pointing to the splinter in everyone else’s eyes and ignoring the log in mine. Moreover, it’s convicting to realize that I don’t know Jesus’ heart as well as I’d like to think, and I certainly am not living out His heart for His people.

In the end though I’m encouraged, even though it doesn’t feel like I should be.  The bottom line is that we’re all messy and broken and Jesus has chosen to love us anyway, right in our mess. With love that big and grace so sufficient, I’m hopeful God has bigger plans for my heart as He takes the logs out of my eyes.

Faith and the Art of Waiting

This past week's sermon had to do with things I've had to do a lot: asking and waiting. More specifically, it was about prayer. The promises and conditions of "whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith." (Matthew 21:22)

I got all kinds of hung up on that "Big Condition" of faith. 

Because when the burden is fully on God's capable, eternal, all-knowing shoulders, I can start to grasp that maybe I'll “receive.” But when my faith is the deciding factor, let's not hold our breath. I’m not known for moving mountains and, frankly, placing that kind of responsibility on my faith isn’t something I’m very comfortable with. After all, when it comes to rearranging geography and such, aren’t those matters best left up to God?

That’s where my asking and waiting comes in. 

I've realized over the past few weeks that while I may ask, I rarely wait. Or at least the waiting I've been doing lately has been pretty non-participatory. It’s waiting room waiting. The kind of waiting that doesn’t require much of me and puts all of the initiative and responsibility on the other party.

I ask God to reveal something. No answer. I ask God again. No answer. I'm a fairly stubborn person (to say the least) so this can continue indefinitely and that’s not really my point.

I’m talking about what happens to the rest of my life while I'm waiting for that answer. I've taken God's lack of answering as it's own solution - that I'm not budging until I hear his answer. Or, in other words, until I get what I want. Meanwhile, the rest of the world continues and my life stays apathetically on hold. Putting off decisions, dodging commitments and keeping everything else to a bare minimum. Because, let's not get too comfy, I know this is only temporary until I get my answer

The Bible gives plenty of examples of people who were called to wait until God answered them (emphasis on the “calling.”)  But my waiting has been more like a stake-out, or maybe one of those union protests at a building site. I’ve got my lawnchairs and a 20 foot blow-up rat and I’m staying put until God decides to be more reasonable.

And that's not really the same thing as faith, is it?

Faith looks more like what's described in Hebrews 11:13-

"Each one of these people of faith died not yet having in hand what was promised, but still believing. How did they do it? They saw it way off in the distance, waved their greeting, and accepted the fact that they were transients in this world." (The Message)

In the light of those examples, it seems like waiting for an answer isn't faith at all. It seems more like my excuse to do nothing. To be faithless. Most importantly, my waiting has allowed me to ignore everything I’m called to in the meantime.

In the words of Pastor Nate, my active faith aligns myself with God to receive. Active faith. Faith that's still busy loving, serving, listening, obeying and worshipping a Holy God, not just sitting on the couch waiting for him to call me back and give me what I want.

It seems that it takes as much faith to ask as it does to continue faithfully honoring everything else God has put in my life, while I wait. That I would wait in the midst of my active faith, instead of the other way around. 

So even if I don't have "in hand what was promised", I do still have a promise to base my faith on: that He always keeps His word. Maybe I’ll never get my answer; maybe my answer is still a long way off. Or maybe I already have my answer to be faithful and committed in what I’ve already been given. But ultimately, my faith still rests in a good God, never in just the answer itself.

 Blog entry by: Jess Noblett