Dynamite: Soaring on Silver Wings

Recently I had the opportunity to soar above the clouds and watch majestic mountain ranges float by beneath me. As I was contemplating the amazing miracle of aerodynamics and the concept of being suspended in the sky, a train of thought started churning its wheels…

If I tried to break a window, jump out of the plane and fly, I'd be pronouncing my death sentence.

If I walked into the cockpit and started pushing buttons and levers because I thought we were going the wrong direction, I'd probably get myself in a predicament, dead or alive, that wouldn't be enviable.

Why? Because I have no knowledge of flying.



Later that week the same thought train picked up speed after reading this verse:

"Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong." {2 Corinthians 12:10}

Familiar? Yes, I'm sure it is for most people. I know I've read or heard it at least a hundred times.
Yet sometimes we never slow down enough to really internalize, really grasp the significance…

I turned to the literal Greek translation of this verse, eager to gain a deeper blessing.
And as I read through the Strong's definitions of the key words, I was struck by the poignancy of this concept.

Allow me to share my literal translation of this verse…

"This is the reason that I take delight in being left without strength, being the recipient of stinging insults, experiencing hardships, being chased and forced into narrow corners and situations for Christ's sake; because it's when I have no strength left that I am dynamite." {Glesni's Literal Translation}

Going back to the airplane analogy, it's when I realize that I can't fly by myself…
when I admit I don't even know how to guide the plane or run the controls…
when I merely sit back and admit that I know nothing — that's when I soar on silver wings.

This is how my life becomes dynamite.

Is Jesus Enough?

I recently watched a short video that had a profound impact on me. 

So profound of an impact that I'm sharing it with you. 

Because these are questions we need to ask.

Questions I need to ask. Questions you need to ask.

Our world is not the same place it was ten years ago, or even five. 

Events are happening world-wide that should cause us to wake up and pay attention.

It's not time to sleep, my friends. It's not even time to live life as usual.

It's time to seriously reevaluate life and ask yourself some important, life-altering questions.

Is there something in my life that I can't imagine giving up?

It could even be something good. But if it's coming between you and God, something has to change. 

It could be friends, family, a relationship or social media.

Now let me just speak to social media for a quick minute here. This tends to be an area of struggle for me. I'm just being real. It's so easy to become sucked into a vicarious life online. It's easy to waste minutes, and even hours, scrolling up and down your feed, even if it's good things you're looking at.

The question here is this — is this coming between me and God? Do I reach for my phone first in the morning, or do I reach out in prayer to heaven? Be honest…

Where do you spend the best hours of your day?

We all live full lives, right? But our best hours… do we spend them on Facebook or do we spend them before the throne of God? Where are our priorities? When we need a quick breather between studies, do we go to social media, games, music, or do we go to God?

Who or what gets our best time, our best energy?

If everything was stripped away, would Jesus be enough for you?

Would He be enough? Would He? 

Watch the video and be inspired by a man who spent an entire year in dark, solitary confinement with one scanty meal a day and yet would do it again in a heartbeat because it was "like a honeymoon with Jesus." 

This is true fulfillment. This is the essence of the Christian walk. 

And these are questions to the heart. Personal things to work out between you and God.

I have my fair share of obstacles to surmount in my own life. But this one thing I know… 

I want to give up whatever is holding me back so I can have a continual honeymoon with Jesus.

Already Won

It's been a year. I never planned it to be that long. I never planned to take a hiatus at all.

It just happened. Life happened. 

And life is still charging on with no sign of relenting, but I've decided it's time to push blogging a little higher on the priority list. Why? Because I believe sharing is important. 

Because faith lived is faith shared. 

Because thoughts articulated equivocate thoughts internalized.  

I've been reading about the martyrs of the reformation recently. 

Maybe sometime I'll share more. But just this one thought for now.

The battle is already won. 

Why are we afraid to live that way? 

Why are we afraid to die that way?

When Love is Hard to Discern

Sometimes love seems hard to discern.
I mean, the divine love, the God-love.

When you feel that despite your best efforts, your life is out of control.
When you feel on the verge of a physical, mental, emotional breakdown.
When despite thorough studying and many prayers, you get a C on an exam.
When you come down with some variety of bug you picked up on a quick trip to Phoenix.

There are many things that happen on a daily basis that can make you question Love.

But I've found that actually, the reason that love is hard to discern is not the fault of Love.
Rather it is my problem because I have the wrong perspective.

It's like picking up glasses with the wrong prescription and expecting things to be clear.
You'll never see clearly until you have the right prescription.

And so it is with life.

Because when I realize my life is out of control, I run to Him for wisdom, not myself.
When I am on the brink of a breakdown, I cling to Him for strength, energy, renewal.
When I get a C, I realize that it's not the grade that really matters in the end, it's how I handle it.
When I come down with a bug, I'm thankful it's the weekend, and because of it I have a quiet Sabbath.

Through all these I realize that my God does love. Very much.
And these things are but proof of that love.

Love is only hard to discern when you have on the wrong glasses.

"He has given you continual evidences of His love in that He has given you adversity time and again..." 

*The Upward Look, 208

No More Airplane Mode

There's nothing like taking time to just disconnect from the outside world and enjoy family and nature. And that's exactly what I did this weekend. Bliss.

On one of our hikes up the mountain, Kiera and I decided to do some cross-country hiking to a little lake across the mountain bowl. Mom and Dad stayed behind and watched us from the mountainside since Dad's still recovering from his broken ankle.

As we made our way down the rocky slope and into the first of several valleys, we strove to keep our eyes on our goal, but as we dipped further and further, it became harder and harder. Soon we were just heading in what we thought was the right direction.

We continued on our very undulated trek and finally climbed the last knoll to find that we were quite significantly above the targeted lake. Although no harm was done, we did lose a chunk of time descending to the pristine little lake.

When we finally returned back to the mountain where our parents were waiting, I realized that Mom had been trying to text me when she noticed from her eagle eye perch that we were cutting up too high. I, however, had put my phone on airplane mode to save battery, and thus didn't see her messages. Because I didn't have my phone connected, I was unable to receive her guidance even though she desperately wanted to give it to me.

As I was reflecting upon the whole adventure later, it struck me that God must feel the same way. Here we are, down on this little earth. We don't have great perspective on our journey. Yet God can see everything from the end to the beginning, and sometimes He sees us cutting a little too high, or a little too low. And it pains Him because He so desperately wants to guide us.


God wants to save us time and possible misfortune, but unfortunately, the majority of the time we tend to have turned our "phones" off during the day and don't maintain the full-bar connection that we should. We don't memorize the Bible so that God can send us "texts" throughout the day by bringing scripture to mind. We don't put a high enough value on receiving minute-by-minute updates and counsel from our Ultimate Guide.

I have been challenged to rethink about how I go through my day. I need less time connected to my phone, and more time connected to my Maker. No airplane mode with Him. I want to keep in full service today!

When God Goes Home

I climb out of the car after driving home from a week away. It's hard to be so close, yet so far.

The evening settles in. I am home. And I couldn't be happier.

We talk and we laugh and we share. 

We are family. 

Yet my mind begins to wander. 

I picture God in an empty heaven. 

(One person can make a place empty, you know.)

His Son has been thirty-three years away from home.
(I hope I never have to experience that.) 

Yet when Christ ascends and steps through that portal, excitement rebounds off of every galaxy, every constellation. 

He is home. 

But He wants me to experience His home too. For me to call it my own.
Because when God goes home, He says He cannot be completely content until I'm there too.

He watches me down here. 

I'm so close, yet so far. His heart yearns. 

And I ask myself, How earnestly do I long for that home?

Just Trust Me…

Three weeks ago my ideas were different. My plans unaltered.
I was organized. Everything was under control. It was all laid out perfectly (or so I thought).

But then things started happening.
And all of a sudden, within one week, I found a bunch of my plans flipped on their heads.

Dead end.

And I felt myself straining a bit at the reins. Because my personality likes to be on top of things, be organized, have things under control.

I hear a still, small Voice.
Just trust Me…

But, of course! Of course all things are really in the hands of His Majesty.
Yet sometimes, despite all the evidence from the past, I forget.
It's unfortunate. And it's unnecessary.

And so for a short while after each thing arose, I questioned. I wrestled. I surrendered.
But within me echoed and reechoed those simple words.
Just trust Me…

And so I trusted Him to see where I couldn't. Because obviously I didn't understand.
And He did. He always does…
I'm the slow one. The blind one.

And now looking back only a couple weeks later, most everything has already been resolved.

This week my A&P teacher overrode the system to get me into her class for fall semester.
The microbiology teacher said I can probably get into her class and lab too.

And all that after I wasn't able to register for the classes I wanted.

The Phoenix convention center was able to accommodate my date change. 

My other GYC-related meeting was rescheduled despite conflicts at both ends.

The family of one of my volunteers is going to be in the area exactly during our site visit.
And all that after my GYC site check and meeting plans had been unexpectedly interrupted.

And God's voice echoes again.
Just trust Me.

Redefining Balance

Balance is something the entire world struggles to maintain. I know I do.
We talk about it. We read about it. We post quotes about it.

My question is, how often do we live it?
And what defines living a truly balanced life?

But why should I write about it again? Go read it here.

Perspective.

It's all how you see it.

And I'm realizing that lately I've been looking from the wrong perspective. 

It's easy to get stressed or frustrated or discouraged when all you see is the here and now.
When schoolbooks and assignments pile high and additional responsibilities add to the mountain.
When it seems like you are just barely making it from one day to another, one week to the next. 

But last night in the quiet of the evening I saw a glimpse of hurting hearts, pleading eyes, thankful smiles.
And I was reminded why I'm here and why I'm doing what I am.

Perspective changes everything.

Asian Aid: Giving Hope Today (video)

Ideal World

We are walking down our driveway treading gingerly over icy patches. And as the brisk air turns cheeks to rosy red, we dialogue. It's just the two of us, mother and daughter, surrounded by pine trees enclosed by gray sky.

My mind is full. Thoughts dart back and forth like a confused colony of bumblebees. I feel as though my life is falling apart, yet I remind myself that it is not. It just feels like it.

And as I expound on my feelings to my patiently listening mother, she starts to smile. I've always been a perfectionist, and this is no exception. But somehow I've lost perspective.

Her words gently bring me back to reality as she articulates those very things I need to hear.

I want to live an ideal life in an unideal world. And I realize that what I think is "ideal" really isn't realistic. Yet there is perfection in every step of the journey, and I must learn to love each chapter of life He brings.

So I am seeking to simply do my best and not rake myself over the coals wishing I could have "done better" when in reality I have already done my best. Because this is just another one of the devil's traps, convincing me that I am compromising when God says perfection is in the journey. It's easy to forget experientially, but I'm learning.

God looks at the heart, not the checklist.

And when He is in my life, my world is ideal.

Transfigured.

This morning it's like I'm there. Standing. Speechless.
Watching while my humble Teacher is unveiled to be the King of glory that He really is.

I want to take off my shoes, but I can't.
I want to do something, but I can't.
I want to say something, anything that would fit the moment, but I can't.
I'm glued to the ground, hands behind my back, lips sealed shut.

All I can do is observe in silence.

My eyes flit back and forth between faces like a dancing butterfly.
This glory, this radiance, is too much for me. Yet then I hear a voice speaking.

I turn to identify the source and abruptly realize, it's me. 

What in the world am I thinking, saying, doing? 
You don't just go and interrupt a divine experience like this!

I clamp my mouth in silence while my mind does a virtual replay.
Tents? Tabernacles? For Beings accustomed to golden mansions? Blinded moment.
If only I could rewind ten minutes and try again, prepare a script, something…

Suddenly I hear a voice from the sky declaring my Master to be His Son. Then all is hushed. Glory is gone.
I feel a penetrating gaze upon my flushed face. It's as if He can read my mind.

"It's only when you dare to speak, my child, dare to do for divinity, that you can be transfigured. Even if what you say is illogical and what you do is awkward. It's the heart I see, the heart I pay attention to.

"Don't be afraid to dare for Me, for as you do, you will be transfigured.
And it's when you're transfigured that you can truly begin to know My heart."

Dare to do. Dare to be.

Transfigured.

Blessed and Broken

In contemplating gratitude I am reminded of a story, actually two stories. Stories that have been the theme of my year…

It's bread He holds in His hands as He lifts eyes to heaven on the crowded hillside surrounded by 20,000 people or in the upper room with His special twelve. This bread, this life, this miracle waiting to happen…

After He blesses, He breaks. Because brokenness without blessing makes men destitute and hearts grow cold.

The blessing always comes before the breaking. 

Yet brokenness is not the end of the story.
Blessed bread is broken and given away. And it's in the giving that it's multiplied. 

Healing comes through brokenness.

The promise grows to meet our need. Whether twelve or twenty thousand.
Miracles happen. Bread is multiplied. Hearts are fed. But only through torn pieces.

--

I’m blessed and broken, as a token, of a love I can’t deny. 

I’m torn in pieces, by my Jesus, the only way to beautify. 

Though the pain be bittersweet, This transformation He will complete.

I’m blessed and broken, for only brokenness can heal.

© Glesni Mason, 2013

The Thankful One

Dust billows and rises under tired feet to meet fading day. On the horizon silhouettes form the welcoming outline of a small town where thirteen weary travelers anticipate spending the night. Gathering fatigue slows the pace of some, quickens others. All is silence besides the gentle crunch of footsteps.

Suddenly a gasp escapes the lips of one in the group as ten shadowy figures approach the travelers.
They are untouchables. They are the lowest of the low. They are lepers.

I can feel the tension, the awkwardness of the moment.

"What audacity!" one disciple whispers to the other.
"The nerve of them! Don't they realize that this is prohibited by law?"

Audacity indeed.
And Someone recognizes it.

Ten men cry for mercy from One who men say is the Mercy-Giver.
Jesus commands them to go. And they go.

Following the running men at a relaxed pace, the group of disciples and their Master continue on.
The gates of the village are not far now. Warmth and nourishment are imminent.

Yet silence is abruptly interrupted again as a man rushes excitedly toward them.
It's one of the lepers with tears flowing freely down glistening cheeks. He has something to say.

"Thank you, Jesus… 
       …thank you, thank you, thank you."

In his delirious euphoria he can say nothing more. But that doesn't matter. 
This Samaritan has grasped what Christ has been vainly trying to teach the Jews for months.

Gratitude is a lifestyle.

One man was thankful and soon his testimony converted hundreds.
Because his thanksgiving was not a one time event, but a way of life.

And I wonder what kind of thanksgiving I have…
Am I living a life of gratitude?

Seasoned with Salt

Swords clash while entire wars are fought over it.
People travel thousands of miles on camelback to trade gold for it, ounce-for-ounce.
Roman soldiers receive a "salarium," a partial paycheck of it (from which we derive our word salary).

14,000 uses. One mineral. And we are called to be it.

Salt.

--




Saltiness.

It's not a question of quantity, it's a question of quality.
Because if you have ever claimed the name of Christ, you have claimed His salt too.

We are all "salt-bearers" in a sense.
And I have to admit, I like salt. Somehow it makes everything tastes better.

"Salt is good, but if the salt loses its flavor, how will you season it? 

Have salt in yourselves, and have peace with one another.” Mark 9:50

But salt without its saltiness? Worthless. Impossible. (really?)

The chemical form of sodium chloride cannot be easily altered.
Only by dilution can the saltiness be compromised.

And only by mingling with the substance to which it is added, can it preserve and flavor.

It's a question of caliber.

If we want to exert a saving influence on the world, we must receive the saving salt.
The salt that has not lost its saltiness. And we must mingle in order to preserve.

The world is saved as individuals, not as masses, through personal influence, contact and association.

Salt that has lost its flavor can mingle with the world and not affect a soul.
It's a mere profession of godliness.

But a truly "salty" Christian? The world will not remain the same where he has visited.

"Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, 

that you may know how you ought to answer each one." Colossians 4:6

Unearthing Insecurities

I don't think it's just coincidence that so many on this planet struggle with insecurity.

I never thought I did. 
But I am discovering in my own life that the most dangerous insecurities are the unidentified ones.

It's a hidden trap. Disguised and unrecognized.

Christian society delights in pious platitudes. We say a lot. We want affirmation for the "high standards" that we profess. It's only natural for human nature to desire recognition.

Because of this I find myself having to constantly reevaluate my life, my actions, my priorities but most importantly, the motives behind the things I do.

Whether it is my use of social media, the way I dress, pursuing academic excellence, or anything else.

The list could go on.
It's easy to want to be acknowledged. To be appreciated. To have a good reputation, a following.

But wait a minute.

Didn't Christ make Himself of no reputation?

Yes, indeed.

It's a pause for thought.
Whose affirmation do I really crave?

I want a following. But not the following you might immediately think of.
I'm learning to desire a following of blessing.
And not just the Lord blessing me, but a blessing that leaves a wake.

I want to leave a trail of blessing behind.

And I want my security to be in Christ alone.
So I'm reevaluating.

Are there any hidden insecurities in my life that I need to address that are preventing the Savior from being my true security?

Abandonment

The word resonates within me. 

A friend has challenged me on a deeper definition. And so I sit with journal in hand on a dock in mist rising, thinking.

...

Forsaken. Left to suffer alone. 

Given up utterly, completely, recklessly.

Abandonment is not often viewed as a positive concept or source of security, yet it has two definitions, and Christ lived them both. 

Unrestrained surrender. 

Unparalleled rejection. 

His life was one of sacrifice, and to Him that sacrifice was joy. A life of abandon. 

This is the life He asks of me. This abandonment lived out on a day-to-day basis.  

The actuality of living the concept is a slippery one, yet not entirely out of reach. 

My life must be surrendered. It must become not my own. And more than that, I have to crave this kind of life, or else I will never be able to live it. 

Abandonment is not an easy road. It hurts. And there is no skirting the pain. 

I must learn to treasure sacrifice and call it joy. I must learn contentment when I am utterly poured out, completely given. I must show compassion even when I feel it least. 

My life must become a gift. And I must be content to give that gift at cost to myself. 

It will cost. No question. But the cost is worthwhile. 

No question. 

Warped Priorities

{Jeremiah 35}

“You shall drink no wine…”

Just a mortal command. Yet the whole extended family for generations would not violate it. 

Discussion over. No variance.

Then there was the divine command. And it seemed the entire nation reveled in its violation.

Why the dichotomy? Why, I ask myself, could the mortal command be so exonerated and the divine command so disregarded and trampled on the ground?

Is it because their sense of priorities had been warped? 

Because their senses had been dulled to that which was most important?

Ouch. 

Those questions hit a little too close to home. I’ve been pondering them already and making changes. I can’t afford to have my priorities warped and my senses dulled to that which is eternally important. No, for to do so would to be to pronounce my own sentence. And it would not be a sentence in my favor…

Our adversary likes to take subtle measures with our culture. And unconsciously our priorities shift to what might still appear harmless, yet isn’t where we should have our primary focus. It’s a sobering thought. 

“Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.” {1 Corinthians 10:12}

Filled with Gratitude

Another year has passed into unalterable history. My heart is filled beyond over-flowing with gratitude. My God has been so gracious to me this year.

I think back on lessons He has taught me and opportunities I have had… They are all blessings. 

I see His fingerprints everywhere along my path. 

My thankfulness encompasses two consecutive days. Special days. Days to especially express gratitude from the depths of my heart. Not that I don't thank Him every day of the year. I do.

But I've had special time to ponder my thanks over the past couple days. I cannot but praise Him. 

For so many things…

My spiritual experience has gone deeper this year than ever before. I have been pushed and encouraged  by friends and my fire has been kindled brighter by the coals from His fire. You know who you are… Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

I have learned so many lessons: That adversity is my greatest blessing, every life matters, brokenness brings transformation, war takes every last drop of blood I have. Yet He has enraptured my heart.

I have also been blessed with so many opportunities this year that I never could have dreamed of on my own. God always out-gives. Always…

I'm counting my blessings, yet they are innumerable.

Thank you, Father… I know You will prove Yourself faithful yet again this coming year.

Yokes of Love

{Jeremiah 26-28}

Sometimes God has to take radical measures. 

Sometimes our hearts are too stubborn to be sensitized and softened by gentler means. 

Sometimes it takes a yoke of iron…

He pleads. He intreats. He promises.

Yet sometimes words just fly past our shoulders. 

I think the concept of being yoked has become distorted. We tend to see the negative connotations when that is only part of the definition.

In reality though, a yoke is merely an instrument used to harmonize the work of two into one. To find surpassing strength of two combined rather than one alone. To give greater power, greater synergy and accomplish greater results.

It may be that we break the wooden yoke, yet God just gently replaces it with an iron one. Not in a tyrannical display, but in love alone. The yoke has a purpose in our training.

And isn’t that truly what I desire? To be so yoked with Christ that my every act is in harmony with Him? To find His surpassing strength and the results that accompany it?

Naughty Figs

{Jeremiah 24}

I remember first reading this passage as a young girl and finding the wording highly amusing. Naughty figs? I guess I had just always correlated the word “naughty” with the word “children.” I laugh now at my naivete. I was subsequently enlightened to the fact that the old English definition was “bad” and so my vocabulary expanded. Nevertheless, that phrase from Jeremiah was indelibly fixed in my memory.

Yet looking at this passage again with a broader understanding and closer examination, I find in two baskets of figs something of deeper significance.

A basket of rancid figs. A basket of ripe figs.

Symbolic representations of the people of Israel. Those taken into captivity and those left behind.

And I begin to ponder the fact that the good figs are representative of those in captivity. 

It seems strange. For wouldn’t the captives be represented by the bad figs?

Yet perhaps freedom is not appreciated without captivity. 

Perhaps captivity was but a means to awaken them from their spiritual slumber. 

Perhaps blessings could not be appreciated without the experience of captivity and the jubilation of release.

Despite the temporary benefits of captivity however, God’s people were not destined to remain slaves. Freedom was theirs, if they would but claim it.

My unfocused gaze is directed out my window as I contemplate my own life. Am I still in captivity?

I have to admit the realization is altogether possible. Yet the experience of being a captive has taught me many lessons. 

It has allowed me to relate to other captives. 

It has taught me the value of freedom. 

It has taught me lessons of warfare. 

It has shown me Love in a way otherwise impossible.

And so I am in gratitude for captivity. Yet I am in greater gratitude for freedom, although it might not be fully mine yet.

For after the horrors of captivity, freedom is truly sweet…