Word Vomit

Serving Team Reflections…

Tonight was my last Serving Team meeting. I won’t get into the whole word vomit about how I think this year went tonight… but tonight, what’s on my mind is just how surreal it feels that junior year is ending.

It’s surreal that the seniors are leaving. They’ve been with me 3 years.

It’s surreal that I’m an ex-outreach coordinator.

It’s surreal how far God has brought me.

God is crazy. haha. Freshmen year I was so shy. The seniors can vouch for just how shy I was. Christine was my mommy and I never left her side. I never spoke up.. and when I did, I was crazy nervous and my voice would shake so much that they nicknamed me the goat. It wasn’t until Citylight’s spring break of my freshmen year when people actually heard me speak up about things.

I never thought I’d be on Serving Team… especially not Outreach Coordinator. God can really change you in a short amount of time. The Freshmen and Sophomores don’t believe this obnoxiously loud stalker/creeper crazy person was once a timid and shy Freshman.

How did I get here? I can’t help but think, “My life is so weird”. In a good way though.

I hear a lot of people say that they want to be less shy… better speakers… bolder… etc. I absolutely believe that God wants to transform us and mold us to be more like His son. Passionate.. bold.. loving in such a profound maybe even outrageous way. :-) He doesn’t want to not transform you! Jesus says, “Come, and I will make you fishers of men.” We were meant to win souls! And God is absolutely committed to shaping us. So this is good news… for those who are wondering if they can be changed, knowing from my own experience, oh yes you can be by God’s grace and working power!

So… God is good. He’s completely transformed my life in just 2 years. He is good and so committed to loving me and shaping me.. and He is committed to loving and shaping you.

Get in on this.

I’ve been looking through some pictures that Tim Park has taken over the years in Geneseo InterVarsity.

I’ve had a lot of tea today…. like 7 cups… so maybe it’s the caffeine screwing with me but as I looked through the pictures, the memories, the people… I wanted to cry. Because when I was looking back, I didn’t remember the bad stuff. I’m sure there was plenty of bad.. but I can’t really remember. Because it just doesn’t matter. It’s just not what really matters.

This year has really burnt me out. Serving Team was so hard. It’s a tough job… trying to balance school, ministry, and a social life… all the while trying not to let what people think of you and your ministry tear you apart. It can suck the life out of you because a person was never meant to handle so much on their own. You can’t. You need God. But sometimes we’re just so messed up and too much of control-freaks to let God take over.

And so I’ve been so cynical. I’ve never been so cynical for so long… because the hard parts bout ministry this year, the complaining, the worrying about what people were thinking really just sucked the freakin’ life out of me. But they’re not the things that matter.

As I was looking through Tim’s photos, I remembered that we’re part of a heritage. We’re the answers to prayers of past Serving Teams. I’ve had absolutely amazing experiences most people will never have during their college years. I’ve been in relationship with some of the most amazing people that have ever walked on the Geneseo campus.

Their service during their years led up to our years. I’ve been so caught up with all the crap.. I kept wishing over and over again that the graduates would just come back. But they’re not coming back. They’re not supposed to, they’re not meant to. We’re their legacy. We’re part of a heritage. And it won’t continue if we’re hung up on our Freshmen/Sophomore year. InterVarsity at Geneseo has an amazing history. It has amazing alumni. And it has so much to offer students. This legacy of great people and experiences hasn’t withered away or graduated with past students, it can still be our legacy and I think it still is.

I guess what I’m saying is, people graduate. Yea we lose great people but we also gain great people. The question is are we stuck in the past, or will we pray for the new just as people prayed over us. Are we going to disciple them or are we idly mourning over change.

So enough of this cynicism. Enough. All the crap.. it happens. You get through it. There are so many good things that easily get overshadowed by the stupid crap that doesn’t even matter. InterVarsity has been an amazing ride. It’s changed everything. It’s worth getting through all the crap because despite what anyone says or thinks or whatever happens, God is doing and has done amazing things. And it is never going to end.

The Holy Spirit is on the move. Jesus is alive. And our God reigns. Are you going to get in on this? What will be your legacy?

 ¹⁸ “Forget the former things;
       do not dwell on the past.

 ¹⁹ See, I am doing a new thing!
       Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
       I am making a way in the desert
       and streams in the wasteland.

                     Isaiah 43

A New Perspective on Hope

Hope. What feelings or words do you associate with the word?

Typically, “hope” has happy, warm and fuzzy connotations. Let’s be honest. We don’t really hope when what we hope for feels or seems absolutely impossible. We’re not going to hope for things that are logically or realistically unattainable in our opinions. But what about hope during circumstances that are absolutely hopeless? What about hope in things that are far beyond what we can wrap our heads around? Hope that defies all logic or reason?

Thursday, I had the absolute pleasure of spending some time with Ms. Chioma Chukwu. We went to Starbucks to grab some much needed caffiene and catch up on each others lives. I cannot begin to describe the necessity of fellowship for our spiritual lives to grow and stay healthy!

Anyway, we began to talk about this thing called hope. Chioma shared how she had been learning how it takes an incredible amount of courage to hope even when things are bad. To hope even when things are so broken and imperfect.

It may be simple but it’s a foreign concept to me lately.

Being home always tends to bring out the worst in me. Makes sense… when home is the source of most of my brokenness. For a lot of us, home is a reminder of the hurtful things in our lives.

I find that I don’t hope much if at all. I don’t expect a lot so I can never be disappointed. I’m pretty indifferent about big things in my life so that if they crash and burn, it wouldn’t matter to me anyway. I assume the worst. I expect the worst.

How do you hope when life becomes a series of disappointments? And you don’t know how to expect otherwise?

Let’s look at one example. Girls who hope for good husbands and good marriages. That makes sense. I’m one of those who don’t, or maybe won’t, hope in those things. To me, if it happens it happens. And I always thought me better for believing that way. But now, I find those girls who never stop hoping in future husbands not pathetic (for lack of less harsher words) but incredibly courageous. They do what I can’t. They are willing to risk being hurt because they believe and hope that love can happen and it’s worth fighting for. Not hoping in those things don’t make me less naive or immature, it makes me a coward.

How about my upcoming Global Project to China? I’m always indifferent to big trips. Chioma pointed out that I was lowering my expectations again. Is my lack of hope and expectations a sign that I think God will disappoint me? The trip could be amazingly awesome… or incredibly hard… or whatever.

How about my sister Nancy Uwera, a refugee from Nairobi, Kenya. Her tribe and her entire family were massacred. She’s lost everything but has not lost her faith in God. She has not lost her belief that God loves her, in His provision, and His promises. Nancy knows suffering. She knows despair. She knows much more than me, the absolute feeling of hopelessness. She knows what it is to have hope when all things qualify her not to hope.

So what is my hope? Whatever happens over the next few weeks, I can have hope that this trip is in some way part of my transformation. It doesn’t matter if it’s an amazing experience or not. I know that God loves me. I know He has plans to prosper me. I know He wants to transform me to be more like His Son. He’s committed to loving me and shaping me. I can expect great things because He loves me. I can be confident that He will graciously give me all things because I am indeed an adopted daughter of the most high God.

Hope. During our time at Starbucks, the weight of my mess and my brokenness felt so overwhelming. Hope? Hope in the mercy of God that despite my mess and my sin, salvation is mine through death and resurrection of Jesus Christ on my behalf. Hope in the amazing grace of God for all things.. my future.. my trip.. my life.

China: My Personal Samaria

China. If you asked me a couple of months ago whether or not I’d ever consider going to China, my answer would’ve been: “Hellllll to the freakin’ no”.

But I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Let’s talk about my title.

If you’re familiar with Brenda Salter McNeil’s book A Credible Witness or her teachings, you know that she speaks a lot on Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4. If you aren’t, here’s a little excerpt from her book that will give you the general gist of what Samaria “is”.

“It’s the place that we find creative ways to bypass. Samaria is the place where we are not in power. It’s the place where we don’t like the people; we don’t speak their language or understand their customs. We feel out of place. It may be that we’ve had a bad experience and are somewhat frightened of the people there. Whatever the reason, we really don’t want to be with them..
…
It’s the place where people who differ gather, and if we intentionally sit down by the “wells” there, we just might have a life-changing encounter.”

So before I made the decision to come to China, I had no intentions of ever going there. China was my ultimate Samaria. The decision-process to go to China was a week and a half long struggle with why China had become my own personal Samaria.

I was born and raised on Long Island in an all-white community. My parents never taught me the language or very much of the culture/customs. In the Chinese-American community, this was looked down upon. I grew up feeling really ashamed of myself. Long story short, all those years of rejection by the Chinese community and even my own family at times made me so bitter, angry, and hurt. I ended up rejecting anything Chinese or too ethnic (anything un-American) and threw myself into my American Identity. All the while, I had no idea that I had been harboring such bitterness and anger until the China trip came into the picture. So in a nutshell (leaving out sooo many details for the sake of time), all these feelings and realizations came out during that week and a half long struggle this past spring semester. I was overwhelmed by the things God was bringing up from my past. Looking back, I really believe God closed off all my other options and set me facing in the direction of my Samaria. China.

Still unsure, hurt, angry, broken, and emotional, I applied for InterVarsity’s Global Project to China. I thought of the things I learned from Brenda about Samaria and reconciliation and knew this was what needed to happen in my life.

The beginning of the China trip was harder than I could have ever imagined. I knew the trip was going to be difficult, but by mid-orientation, I was ready to go home. I seriously thought through buying a plane ticket back to America and how I was going to tell the rest of the team. But as I prayed more, I remembered how I knew God had set me on this path. I reluctantly stayed.

I’d say, the thing I learned from this trip is that God is good. No, I’m being totally serious. Why do all my significant faith experiences never involve any mystery revealing type revelation? It’s always something so basic. Anyway. Halfway through the trip (still on a steady emotional/spiritual decline since the start of the trip), I started wrestling with myself about why I came on the trip. What was I even expecting? I felt like I was going nowhere and gaining nothing. I was frustrated because I was in my Samaria and sucking at life. My sin felt heavier day after day and my feelings of shame and guilt from being a horrible, arrogant, racist American was getting unbearable. I unloaded all of this to Esther Wong (so wise!) one night. And this is what she said:

“I find your theology… a little weird.”

Me: “……..oh”

“God is good” (Long Esther pause)

Me: “…. ………… …. (cue awkward sweating)”

“God is good. I don’t think you believe that right now. He doesn’t want you to carry this brokenness and anger for the rest of your life! To pass that on to your children even! God is good. And He wants to heal you and redeem you as a free gift out of His love for you.” (So paraphrased but definitely is the gist of it)

Me: (in my head) “ohhhhhhhh…..”

You see, my mental posture going into this trip was “OK, I’m a terrible person who’s racist against my own ethnic people. So I need to go to China, love Chinese people, and I will be reconciled!”. The problem? Trying to make reconciliation happen by my own efforts and will-power = failure of epic proportions. The truth? Only God can make the reconciliation happen. He is so good and He loves me so perfectly that He wants to give me this gift of healing and redemption as a free gift. What?! Gospel 101! D’oh!

So that was a pivotal moment during the trip. Things definitely got better after that night as I re-entered into free fellowship with God, leaning on Jesus for the parts of me that still hurt and are still so broken.

I don’t know where I am in this whole ethnic journey I’m on. I’m definitely not finished with this whole reconciliation thing. But I was stuck in the mud before my chat with Esther… so I’m at least a step or two closer.

If anyone has read this far, thank you. But this post isn’t just about me. Where are the Samarias in your life? Following Jesus, I believe, absolutely takes us through Samaria. Because that’s exactly where Jesus went. The map to the kingdom absolutely goes through Samaria.

My encounter at the “well” in my “Samaria” is the start of my ethnic journey. If this whole Chinese-American thing isn’t some cosmic accident, than it’s purposeful. What is that purpose? I don’t know. But I do know that my Heavenly Father is good and He loves me perfectly. “I am fearfully and wonderfully made” -Psalm 139. I am content with where I am on this journey and confident that God is able to complete the good work He’s begun in my life.

So China… not so much of a Samaria anymore. I went from “I never want to go there”, to “ok fine I’ll go just this once”, to finally “I think I could see myself coming back here. I kinda really like it here”.

So God is good. And Esther is wise and awesome.

Remembering How Much It Hurt

After a long hiatus, today I am choosing to press back into the mess I wish so much to go away. My ethnic journey has sort of come to a halt… temporarily.

I think it being naturally tough is part of it. I feel like it has been easy not having to deal with it here at school. I can dodge the uncomfortable feelings by dodging uncomfortable people. At times, I think I’ve even forgotten what God had started in my life.

Awhile ago, I bought More Than Serving Tea which is a book by some Asian American Women InterVarsity Staff-workers just to have in case I needed help later on in the semester with ethnic journey stuff. I haven’t picked it up until today. I’ve known for awhile that I have been choosing not to press further into ethnic identity stuff. I’ve come up with dozens of excuses not to go to the Chinese Culture Club at Geneseo even though I told myself at the beginning of the semester that I could benefit by going to their meetings.

But today, I decided to start reading that book in an attempt to press further into my ethnic journey. I’ve never read 20 pages so slowly in one sitting. The chapter went into the story of the hemorrhaging woman in Mark 5. I never really identified with her until now. The woman suffered from an ongoing menstruation for 12 years which meant, by Jewish law, that she was unclean thus causing her to be poor and an outcast. She was rejected for 12 years. The author went further to say how she couldn’t imagine the loneliness the condition had caused her. There, right there. That’s when I started remembering how much it hurt. All those years of being rejected because I wasn’t Chinese enough. Because I am too Americanized. All those years of feeling so ashamed and defective because it seemed like my parents were so ashamed of me. All those years of feeling like I brought my family shame.

As I reflect now, I think that part of why I haven’t been pressing into my ethnic identity journey is because I want to be angry. I feel like I have the right to be angry. That I’m allowed to be because of whats happened. It’s my right.

But it’s not the way of grace. Retaliation would be to hate and reject the Chinese Community back; which I have done. Mercy would be to forgive them. But then there’s grace. Grace would be to seek their forgiveness for my offenses against them and see a people I’ve despised for so long lifted up.

Easier said than done. What do I have to gain from more years of anger and bitterness. It left me in a dark mess before. What benefit has it given me. But grace brings freedom. Again, easier said than done.

And the question I have always struggled with and am still struggling with: Why does ethnicity have to matter. I know the answer. I’m just struggling to really believe it.

The author writes:

“God reassured me that of all the ethnicities and genders he could have chosen for me, he chose Asian and female. He took my flaws and redeemed them to be used for his kingdom. My gender and ethnicity are God’s gift to me - not an obstacle to overcome. These are my gifts to steward for his kingdom.”

As I continued to the end of the chapter, the author writes how Jesus can redeem the negative labels others put on us. Back to the hemorrhaging woman, she says, “No one ever expected Jesus to gladly receive the bleeding woman and restore her to society. Yet he did so, willingly. … He wants to take the hurts, the labels put on us, and give us a new way of living.”

Can Jesus really stop my bleeding and restore my dignity? Does He really want to when so many people have found me so defective? Can I really get to the point where I can embrace a new way of living that embraces those who’ve wronged me?

Do I have the same courage of the bleeding woman to reach out to Jesus for healing?

Jesus, today I remembered how much it all still hurts. I know you know what it feels like to be rejected. I’m afraid to reach out to you because it makes me think and remember how it hurts. Can you find me and meet me where I am? I can’t handle this all on my own. I need you.

Loving the Mission more than the Mission Giver

An excerpt from The New Friars. I really needed to hear this :)

“In 1990 Janine and I began applying to missions organizations that would place us overseas more permanently. Ultimately, though, we decided that the organizations were not good matches with our particular needs and gifts, and we continued working at InterVarsity. When my boss pulled the plug on Janine and me taking a group of students to serve Palestinian refugees, however, I became deeply discouraged. It was January in Wisconsin, which was reason enough to get depressed for those who don’t care for darkness or cold weather. I very distinctly remember shoveling snow from our driveway wondering what had come of all my great expectations to be a missionary in the most challenging environment on earth. Now I was a homeowner in my late twenties with one child. The fact that I even had a driveway was disheartening, let alone the realization that precious time and energy had to go into hauling snow from it one shoveful at a time only for it to get covered again in a few days.

I had read earlier that day the passage in Matthew where Jesus gives Simon the name Peter or ‘Rocky’: ‘You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.’ Jesus gave Peter a name that defined his mission for the rest of his life. He gave Peter an identity. That’s what I wanted him to do for me — to give me an identity that would help define my specific mission and calling. ‘Oh God,’ I cried, ‘I wish you would name me!’

Then the Lord spoke quite clearly to a deep place within my spirit: ‘Peter named me first,’ he said. At first I was a bit taken aback. Then I recognized that in this passage, the naming of Peter was prompted only because Peter had just answered Jesus’ question, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Peter had replied, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God’ (Matthew 16:16). Apparently I had not yet fully understood Jesus’ identity and acknowledged his Messiahship.

As I puzzled, clarification came with a few more shovefuls of snow and another statement coming from somewhere outside of me yet not audible. ‘You love my mission more than you love me,’ Jesus said to me. At first I found this a bit offensive. I suppose Peter might have felt the same way when Jesus kept asking him later, ‘Do you love me?’ (John 21:15-17). How can this be, I wondered? Of course I love you, Lord. But then I began to ask myself, what was it that motivated me? What was it that I thought about and dreamed about and obsessed about? It was his mission. Indeed, I did love his mission more than I loved him. It was true. I was in pursuit of Christ’s mission, and in the process I had passed by the Mission Giver without so much as a ‘hello.’

As wonderful as it is to bring the kingdom of God to the hollow places on earth, even this is rubbish in comparison to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus. Intimacy with Christ must be first. Without it, mission is empty and self-serving. I stopped pursuing his mission on that day and began giving myself more completely to him — whether that would lead me permanently overseas or not. New friars will need to learn how the quest for Christ must have supremacy in their lives. If they can do that, they just may be able to save civilization.”

Jesus, I’m sorry for the way I love your mission more than you. I’m sorry that I may love InterVarsity and its mission more than I love you. Help me to give myself more completely to you with all things aside. Help me to understand and know you better as the Messiah, the son of the living God.

Dear Jesus,

There are so many things that frustrate me. Things that make me want to run away and never have to deal with. There are so many things I want. So many things I don’t want to give up.

This world is kind of a crappy place. There’s a lot of scary stuff out there that makes me want to crawl under my sheets and never come out. I hate conflict. I hate confrontation. It’s so uncomfortable. I just want to be comfortable.

I never want to be disabled. I never want to experience so much pain. Some days, I really really really want a comfortable life. To have the successful husband and have a good job myself and live in a nice neighborhood similar to the one I grew up with. I never want to see the people I love suffer. I’m scared of being raped or kidnapped or murdered. Some days, I just want a comfortable and safe life.

Because if I go out in the world… who knows what could happen. Like those girls in the movie Taken. Granted, I would’ve done a couple of things differently.. but this world is so so evil and it scares the crap out of me to think that could have happened to me. There is so much crap that could happen. If I go out there, there’s more of a chance that it could happen to me. If I go out there…. who knows… who freakin’ knows?

I’ve lived without having to experience those atrocities I know goes on in this world. I am thankful for that. It makes me think… how could I get away with such an easy life? Why… is it so much easier… painless… safer….

The image of those girls being held in prostitution still stays with me. I can’t believe girls my age are suffering through that. Could I survive that? And I try to put myself in that situation… how every fiber of my being would be crying for help.. crying for a savior every waking minute. And it made me weep. I can’t stand that thought. I don’t want to think about it but Jesus they’re crying out for a savior!

Jesus I want so much for it to end! I want those girls to be brought back home where they belong. I want it to end. Just end! It’s so evil. Jesus, it’s so evil.

And that’s not even the only issue. There’s so much suffering in the world. So many atrocities that exist. And I know.. You ask me… will I care? I know You want the end of this too. I know that you are grieved a million times more than the little glimpse I got. I know that you are crying out to Your people to wake up! Open their eyes and care!

And I know that You came down from Heaven… that You stepped out of all of that.. heavenly paradise… and walked among us.. in all this evil. And You suffered… and I know that You called us to follow after You… into those places of evil. To bring real justice and mercy into the dark places. That You entered into those hard places and proclaimed liberty to the captives, cared for the poor, comforted the brokenhearted, healed the sick… You came and stepped into our reality and You changed everything.

I know this is what You can do through us. I know that this is the only way, by stepping into their realities, to see true and full justice and mercy practiced. As much as I want justice, You want it exponentially more. You must be able to still do those things today. You must be able to not only save people from the hell to come, but from the hell today.

Use me, God. If that means I have to give up the things I love, my comfort, my privileges… Jesus help me get there. Help me to be okay with that as I step into those dark places. Jesus, may I find you at the margins. May I see Your face among the poor and oppressed. In the face of my stupid problems, I find such joy that this is the kind of God You are. That You care about those girls. That You are so much more than anything this world has to offer. That the end of the modern day slave trade, will be better than the most lavish life I could have.

I want to be used in greater ways. I want to know You and the power of Your resurrection. I want to know You by sharing in Your suffering… and become like You as I die to myself. Jesus, help me get there.

“Sometimes I would like to ask God why He allows poverty, suffering, and injustice when He could do something about it.”
“Well, why don’t you ask Him?”
“Because I’m afraid He would ask me the same question.”

Dear Geneseo IVCF Alumni,

I’m mad at you. I’m mad that you left. Ok, I’m not mad mad. But I’m upset. I’m upset that you took all of your awesomeness and left me behind in my not-awesomeness.

That’s super-irrational. I know that.

And I know that you all technically didn’t “leave” us… rather, you had to… graduate.

I guess I’m just upset because I miss you all. And somewhere inside I feel like things would be better if you all were still around. As if problems wouldn’t be as abundant if only you were here to impart some wisdom and advice.

It just feels like you guys are/were so much awesomer than I could ever be/am. And most days I feel like crawling under my bed because I have no wisdom or feel like I have any ability to help the people put in my path. And I know you’d say that you all were not any more awesome or knowledgeable at my age… but I kinda thought you were. Maybe you all felt the way I do now when you were seniors or super-seniors. I don’t know how but the impression you left on me is so great yet, while I know you guys aren’t/weren’t perfect, I still feel like you guys were a better role-model to have than I could ever be.

I know I make no sense… and that this is silly and theologically foolish…and self-centered..

I just have to wonder sometimes if you ever felt this lonely. Did you get tired? Did you feel inadequate? And if you did, how did you manage to still seem so awesome to everyone else?

I guess I’m just trying to say.. that I miss you… and I wish you all were still around so I could learn from you.

Love,

That still shy, insecure, and unstable Vicky Wong

Halfway Through “Daring to Draw Near”: Some Thoughts….

A.W. Tozer once said: “What I believe about God is the most important thing about me.”

What we believe about God changes everything about how we live our lives and ultimately, determine the whole course of our lives. What I believe about God affects how I pray, how I spend or what I choose to use my resources for, how I allocate my time and energy, and my personal relationship with Him.

So here’s where I’m at. Spiritually numbness.. not complacency… maybe a better term would be indifference. It’s not a feeling of God seems “far away” or depression about circumstances in my life. My life is fine. Everything’s fine and I know I should be grateful but where gratefulness and joy should be, there is stone-cold indifference.

God is still good. And I’ve been doing a lot of reading to help my spiritual growth. One of the ways I feel joy most is learning about God’s truth and learning more about His character and mission for His people. But as I reflect during this Christmas season, I know that I am not in the best place with my relationship with God nor am I getting closer. Maybe that’s a good sign that this isn’t total stone-cold indifference.

So if the way I live my life is a manifestation of what I believe about God, what is my current state saying? I don’t like where this is going…. but this question was posed during my readings.

Do I really believe God is good if I don’t respond to Him with prayers of thankfulness and a lifestyle that reflects my gratefulness for His grace and mercy? Do I really believe that God is a loving father when I pull further and further away from Him because I feel like I suck? And do I really believe Him to be the all-mighty and sovereign God that He is if I am unable to bring my requests to Him out of disbelief that He hears and will answer when I call?

I know the answers. I know His truths. What is it in me that is so twisted that I have fallen so? What do I really think about God?

So I find that though I want to, I am unable to bring myself closer to Him. I am inadequate, by myself, to restore fellowship with God on my own. Rather Jesus’ work on the cross, has already done what is necessary to restore our fellowship with the Father. Because of what Jesus has done, there is no need on my part to make efforts at restoring my relationship with God. How can I fix what is no longer broken? I have just forgotten what has been done for me. In times of indifference, all I needed to have done was to draw closer to the cross of Christ with faith that what He has done is indeed enough to reconcile me to God. James 4:8 says, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you.”

As David prays in Psalm 51:
“O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.”

And in Psalm 103:
“Praise the LORD, my soul;
   all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
Praise the LORD, my soul,
   and forget not all his benefits

So this is my prayer tonight. (Using different Psalms)
In Your Word I delight. For I have read and know of Your great love for me and Your grace and mercy. Forget not Your servant, O Lord. Only You can open my lips again to praise You. Let my soul not forget Your steadfast love and mercy. Lift my soul out of darkness that I may stand to declare Your praises. Hear my prayer O God and draw near to me. Because of Your great love toward me, I will praise Your name forever. Amen.

Psalm 42:
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
   and why are you in turmoil within me?
 Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
   my salvation and my God.

What am I doing with this blog?

Honestly… I don’t know. So almost all of my posts have been about… personal experiences tied with some spiritual revelation or application. But I’m wondering whether or not I should limit posts to those kind of topics.. because originally, one of my intentions behind starting this blog was to offer my spiritual/personal experiences/revelations to help and bless others in their own lives. I don’t post very often. Partly because if I follow that agenda, I want the posts to have a little meat to them. Meaning, I only really write when I feel especially inspired by something. I don’t know..

So.. I guess this post is already pretty different. I asking for my audiences (assuming that I have one…..) input. Should I post more even if it means writing posts that aren’t really inspired by some really significant experience etc?

I’m thinking about doing an InterVarsity series…. because let’s be honest. What’s my favorite conversation topic? Yea…

And I was thinking maybe a sub-series that focuses on CityLights which is a big reason why I began to love InterVarsity and its vision… and has everything to do with how my life, career goals, values, beliefs have been shaped.

This IV/CityLights series would be something for me to do over break.. along with my really ridiculously long reading list… which I could do some reviews about. Maybe….?

So what do you all think? Where should this blog go? Like some blogs have very specific themes that determine what they post. What is this blogs purpose? I don’t know… help me. Go!