Blog post by Ashley Bowie - natural habitat; cozy chairs near sources of coffee.

There might be better places for an epiphany than standing on the precipice of a known avalanche sight, but I didn’t plan ahead. I have a history of this. Once I was staring down at a deep blue gym mat attempting the splits at an age that is unamusing to talk about when I had a similar “wrong moment for this” epiphany. I’m always exhausted, worn thin and not entirely ready to think when those moments find me.

This time I had agreed to a sunset hike. I had not gotten much sleep the night before, put in an early, full shift at work and then set out for the wilderness with a handful of fun and interesting people. By the time we reached the trailhead it was early evening, drizzling and cloudy all around. You should know that the whole point of a sunset hike is to get somewhere with an amazing view of the sun. This was a huge gamble; there was no way to know for certain if the clouds would clear in time to see any hint of a sunset. But we pressed on.

The mountain was stunning. A few sturdy summer wildflowers were left over and the first kiss of fall had painted a few of the leaves for us. At a certain point talking becomes unreasonable, and you are left to your thoughts. The rain kicked up from drizzle to pour and a brisk wind whipped around the exposed part of the mountain trail we were following. But we pressed on.

At a certain point in the trail you can look below you and see the tarns, small glacial lakes set in the nearby valleys. It is a delight to behold. We didn’t stop for long though, because we were all soaked through and if you stop, you turn to ice. So we pressed on.

The trail was now muddy, covered in loose stone and steep, avalanche steep. But we pressed on.

At the view point for the tarns there is a deep temptation to stop. Stop right here, get warm, get fed, and get home. You look in front of you and can feel the struggle it will take to actually arrive at your destination. You might think to yourself; “This is more than most people would do, I could see the sunset from here, it can’t possibly be any better at the top.” I considered it for half a moment, then there it was. Off to the side of the trail, a small stack of rocks that someone had set up, one balanced on top of another.

Ebenezer; the Lord has brought us this far.

The word filled my mind as I took another step. I was standing then, on a thin slice of trail where the ground falls away just inches from my left shoe. I could see the landslides at the bottom. Not quite as steep to my right but enough to light a nerve on fire at my toe and send fear all the way through me. I pressed on.

I need to tell you about the “OK plateau.” The OK plateau is something I learned about a few years ago, just before I was faced with that blue gym mat and a shouting kung fu teacher insisting I become more flexible. The OK plateau is where you are comfortable, maybe you worked hard to get where you are, maybe you’re happy and content, maybe you don’t want a full split in your cache of talents, and maybe you can just watch the sunset from here.

But maybe it’s worse than that. Maybe it’s fear holding you back, maybe you have sinned or have been sinned against and you can’t figure out how to make yourself take the next step. The OK plateau is fine because you aren’t exposed, your sin is comfortable, your fear is familiar, and your anger makes you feel like you are actually accomplishing something.

That is where the Israelites were. They had sinned, they had stayed on the OK plateau and set up camp. They had wandered away from God and were being sinned against. They were pressed on all sides by Philistines and by fear. Samuel made a sacrifice for the people of Israel, then set up a stone and called it Ebenezer, “Thus far the Lord has helped us,” He said.

In spite of the sin of Israel, the Lord helped. Though they had become comfortable in their ways, the Lord helped. Though they were being pursued in war, the Lord helped. Though they were overcome by fear, the Lord helped.

I pressed on. I took one icy step after the other and summited the mountain. The clouds came with us, we couldn’t see. We got out dry clothes, we got warm, we ate, we smiled at one another and were grateful we had made it. Then in the space of a few moments, the clouds cleared. The sun hit our faces and lit the hills at every angle. We all laughed. What a sight! Wisps of cloud burning orange in the sunlight, green hills, Mount Baker not so far off.

Then I turned and got a clear look at what I would have missed if I stayed down on the OK plateau. I have never seen a circular rainbow, but I saw one there. The sun hit the mist at just the right angle on the mountain to set the colors in a spin. Because the sun was behind us I could see my own shadow pressed into the center of the rainbow. I giggled, like a child. Like a child the Lord had brought through fear, had lead through sin and struggle and guided to the top of the mountain even though I would have been satisfied to stop.

If you have stopped, remember that the Lord has helped you this far, and press on. If you are hemmed in by fear, remember that the Lord has helped you this far, and press on. If you are weary and exhausted, remember that the Lord has helped you this far, and press on. If you are satisfied and cannot imagine anything better than this, remember that the Lord has helped you this far, and press on.

Current blog post written by Becca Wellan. A devoted and caring friend who loves coffee and talking about Jesus. Oh, and did I mention she loves coffee?

"Twinkle twinkle, little star. How I wonder what you are."

I sing this lullaby to lull the sweet babies I nanny to sleep. I can’t sing, so this doesn’t always work. Each time I sing this song, I always think, these words are so odd. I’m no astronomer, by any stretch, but I’m pretty sure stars aren’t diamonds in the sky. I’m also quite positive they’re not little.

Have you ever laid on your back during a clear summer night in the middle of nowhere? Just to watch the stars. Just to see how small you really are. It’s amazing. You know, I tried counting all the stars, once. I believe I got to twenty-nine, then I got distracted.

1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000.

One billion trillion; I was a little off. That’s the number of stars in the observable universe. That’s one billion trillion stars, in the ten billion galaxies we’ve found so far (like I can somehow take credit for this).

That’s a lot of stars.

I don’t know about you, but my view of God is very small. I mean, I know that God created the world, the universe, the one billion trillion stars, me. I know the stars are designed to show us His power and beauty. (I also believe He made them just for fun. Just to paint the sky for us. Just because He’s God, and He can). I know all these truths, but as my heart’s been breaking beneath the weight of my sin, I’ve learned that there’s a difference between “know” and “believe.” The difference between chains and freedom.

And I don’t believe that this God could truly love me. In my doubt, I’ve been drowning.

Does this God actually have a heart big enough to love all of me?
Enough power to truly forgive me?
Enough grace to rescue me?
Enough understanding to heal me?
Enough mercy to let my heart rest, filled up to overflowing with peace?

I don’t know about you, but my view of God is very small. There are days my sin takes a hold of my heart and my mind and yells so loud, with such strength, that this God who counts the countless stars seems to disappear.

Do you ever wonder if God could truly love someone like you? If being fully, totally forgiven for everything you’ve ever done or thought applies to everyone else, but certainly not you?

I don’t actually believe that God would love me enough to pour grace over the dark spaces in my mind. I don’t actually believe that I can rest in His forgiveness, without doing penance to earn His grace. I don’t actually believe Him when He said “it is finished.”

But this God, who created the universe and all its stars, will not remain silent. This morning, He broke through my doubts and spoke to me:

“He heals the brokenhearted,

And binds up their wounds.

He determines the number of the stars;

He gives to all of them their names.” // Psalm 147:4.
 

Suddenly, I believed Him. If this God has enough power in His voice to tell the one billion trillion stars to shine, hanging them up like Christmas lights, then He must have enough power to heal my broken heart and bind up my wounds.

If this God is caring enough to name each and every one of the stars, then He must care enough to truly, completely, deeply, relentlessly love me.

To call me by name.

And, this God must have enough power to actually mean it when He hung on the cross and said “it is finished.”

“As far as the east is from the west,
so far does He remove our sin from us.” // Psalm 103:12.

As far as the east is from the west is pretty far, if you think about it. The edge of the observable universe is forty-six billion light years away. One light year is six trillion miles. It keeps going, and going, and going and no one knows where, or if, it ends.

When Christ died on the cross, the sin that separated us from Him is black-hole status gone. He has only grace for us, now. He is not disgusted by you. He is not ashamed of you. To endure your days as though Jesus is not powerful enough to forgive you is not just insulting, it will wreck you.

This morning, as I read these verses through my tears, I finally felt how absolutely adored I am. I could actually see myself wrapped in the arms of Jesus. Sobbing. Letting go of everything but Him. In that moment, I finally felt that I am more valuable to Him than one billion trillion stars. The weight of the guilt I’ve been carrying was lifted. All I could say was “I need you.”

“I know, sweet girl, I know,” He said. “That’s why I came down to rescue you.”  

“When Satan tempts me to despair and tells me of the guilt within, upward I look and see Him there, who made an end of all my sin.”

Love, Hate, And A Counter-Intuitive God: I suppose I’ll end where I started: the Bible doesn’t always say what I expect it to, even when it comes to love. Then again, I’d be suspicious if it did. My love is so weak and so paltry at time. It’s really a tired, half-hearted thing if I’m honest. When I come to the love of God, the surprising, counter-intuitive love of Jesus displayed on the cross, the cross which exposes all my darknesses and shames, should I not expect to find some edges I’d never imagined?

Gospel And Race: Make sure to listen to Bob Thune and Joshua Eggerson discuss about the Gospel and race in the context of Ferguson. 

Why It's Wrong For Christians To Mistreat Creation: God gives us the opportunity to reflect him in his work of caring for and transforming all of creation. To follow this aspect of our multifaceted calling as humans is to image in our lives the One who is at work in the world and in human life, creating, sustaining, and liberating creation. Jesus’ resurrection is God’s first step in making all things new, which will culminate in a renewed world that completely honors Jesus, who rules it.

5 Current Church Views Of "Discipleship": I have been in many settings with church leaders where the question was posed, “What is your church doing for discipleship?” I am grateful that church leaders are asking questions about the church’s fundamental mission—making disciples. After all, a church can excel at anything and everything else, but if the church fails to make disciples, she has wandered from her fundamental reason for existence. But the question almost always needs to be answered with a follow-up question: “What do you mean by discipleship?” People could mean at least one of these five common and current views:

Need And Desire: Is it wrong to want to live in comfort with a big house and a new car? No, as long as those desires don’t consume you. Is it sinful to long for people in your life that love, respect, and cherish you? No, those things are beautiful in God’s eyes. But in a fallen world, where life doesn’t operate the way it should, there’s a difference between need and desire. Need means essential for life; desire means a strong feeling of want. Many of our desires aren’t wrong, as long as they don't rule us, but they’re simply not needs.

Michael Brown And My White Son: I’m thankful for Martin Luther King and the civil rights movement but this moment reminds us of how blind and numb we can become to the racism and injustice that still exists in our fallen world. This moment is not about the teenage lifestyle or behavior of Michael Brown but about the insanity of his death. The outrage for justice that this moment has induced is not only justified but long overdue. We must address the reality of racism and privilege. As Chandler writes, “we want to move past it, but we are not past it. Clearly, we are not past it. So, let’s press in to it”.

Edwards On The Christian Life: Edwards is a complicated figure who defies scholarly consensus, even among evangelicals. For that reason, even scholars and informed pastors who disagree with Ortlund on these or other points will appreciate this fine book. Edwards on the Christian Life is an excellent introduction to Edwardsean spiritual thought that is well researched yet written at such a level that students, pastors, and engaged laypeople will benefit. It is a welcome contribution to Edwardsean studies and a worthy entry in what continues to be a fine series on historical and spiritual theology.

photo credit: paul bica via photopin cc