Sunday, September 24, 2006
GOLD BRICKS
Sometimes when I write I want to capture the moment. I've kept a journal for about 5 years now, and recorded my journeys across the USA and some of my earliest moments of walking in the Spirit.
This morning it's about 9 a.m. my time. I've been awake for almost 3 hours today, with such anticipation that today is the day of worship, the day of the Lord, and I'm going to go into His courts and worship Him and declare His praise across the continent of Africa. His goodness is wonderful to me, the further I go the further I find how little I deserve to be a partner of God.
I saw these "gold bricks" in prayer, even heard that word shortly in my spirit...when I say "saw" I'm not carried away into the 3rd heaven, but simply walking in what is available to any believer with the mind of Christ in him or her, we can think like Him...you see, before I enter the temple today, I entered the house. Today I awoke with 2 of my African brothers who stayed the night (hey WP-God nights!) and last night we went into the throne of our gracious God...they actually kindled the fire this morning, as I began to awake they figured out how to play a Hillsong CD of mine, and put it to "You Said...ask for the nations..." we began our day in the Holy Spirit, we laid a foundation of gold...and it was reflective to me of all that our Father wants to do---in 1st Cor. there is a passage starting in 3:10 about how Paul said every work of every minister and believer will be tested, and if it is of "hay or straw" which is the natural ability of men, the natural resources of men, the material of men; those things will be consumed in fire...but if it is "of gold & treasure", if it is of the heavenly ability of God, dependence upon Him alone, the treasures of His Spirit, then that work will last and won't be consumed in the fire He sends.
I still cannot give you a "big" report, I can say this: soon, I'll be traveling to several countries. I've made contacts with several missionaries and have received invitations to assist them in media related needs, while they have also spoken to me of opportunities to preach in their churches and assist in their evangelism and outreach into the bush. Nate says this: "let's go!" and yet the Lord has said, "wait, wait, wait upon ME!" and so I have had to yield to Him...so much of me has been drained, exasperated, exhausted and depleted...some of that is the purifying touch of death that comes in the sharing of crucifixion with victorious Jesus; and some of that has come through my repentance of mistakes I've made, through His cleansing of my not so pure desires, my ignorant lusts, my selfish ambitions...He has rescued me from false romances I would have pursued with women He did not call me to be with, He has forgiven my desire to be joined to something other than Him...and in it all, I find that my foundation has stood, that He has stood, not because of me but because He Himself is the pure gold of our foundation, He Himself is the purest reward to run for and work for; my goal in ministry is to connect the lost to intimacy in Him...I refuse to lay one material brick on top of another and call it ministry, I want to only build what man cannot see and yet will be the only thing seen forever.
Here is exactly how I feel: "I don't mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection! But I keep working toward that day when I will finally be all that Christ Jesus saved me for and wants me to be. No, dear brothers and sisters, I am not all I should be, but I am focusing all my energies on this one thing: forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us up to heaven." -Phillippians 3:12-14
Glory to our most deserving and worthy King of all Kings, the Friend of Sinners, the Lover of His Bride; with all my thanks He still keeps me,
in Him
Nate
This morning it's about 9 a.m. my time. I've been awake for almost 3 hours today, with such anticipation that today is the day of worship, the day of the Lord, and I'm going to go into His courts and worship Him and declare His praise across the continent of Africa. His goodness is wonderful to me, the further I go the further I find how little I deserve to be a partner of God.
I saw these "gold bricks" in prayer, even heard that word shortly in my spirit...when I say "saw" I'm not carried away into the 3rd heaven, but simply walking in what is available to any believer with the mind of Christ in him or her, we can think like Him...you see, before I enter the temple today, I entered the house. Today I awoke with 2 of my African brothers who stayed the night (hey WP-God nights!) and last night we went into the throne of our gracious God...they actually kindled the fire this morning, as I began to awake they figured out how to play a Hillsong CD of mine, and put it to "You Said...ask for the nations..." we began our day in the Holy Spirit, we laid a foundation of gold...and it was reflective to me of all that our Father wants to do---in 1st Cor. there is a passage starting in 3:10 about how Paul said every work of every minister and believer will be tested, and if it is of "hay or straw" which is the natural ability of men, the natural resources of men, the material of men; those things will be consumed in fire...but if it is "of gold & treasure", if it is of the heavenly ability of God, dependence upon Him alone, the treasures of His Spirit, then that work will last and won't be consumed in the fire He sends.
I still cannot give you a "big" report, I can say this: soon, I'll be traveling to several countries. I've made contacts with several missionaries and have received invitations to assist them in media related needs, while they have also spoken to me of opportunities to preach in their churches and assist in their evangelism and outreach into the bush. Nate says this: "let's go!" and yet the Lord has said, "wait, wait, wait upon ME!" and so I have had to yield to Him...so much of me has been drained, exasperated, exhausted and depleted...some of that is the purifying touch of death that comes in the sharing of crucifixion with victorious Jesus; and some of that has come through my repentance of mistakes I've made, through His cleansing of my not so pure desires, my ignorant lusts, my selfish ambitions...He has rescued me from false romances I would have pursued with women He did not call me to be with, He has forgiven my desire to be joined to something other than Him...and in it all, I find that my foundation has stood, that He has stood, not because of me but because He Himself is the pure gold of our foundation, He Himself is the purest reward to run for and work for; my goal in ministry is to connect the lost to intimacy in Him...I refuse to lay one material brick on top of another and call it ministry, I want to only build what man cannot see and yet will be the only thing seen forever.
Here is exactly how I feel: "I don't mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection! But I keep working toward that day when I will finally be all that Christ Jesus saved me for and wants me to be. No, dear brothers and sisters, I am not all I should be, but I am focusing all my energies on this one thing: forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I strain to reach the end of the race and receive the prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us up to heaven." -Phillippians 3:12-14
Glory to our most deserving and worthy King of all Kings, the Friend of Sinners, the Lover of His Bride; with all my thanks He still keeps me,
in Him
Nate
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Not designed to die...
I was watching this thing the other night, where a bunch of South African scientists were sharing their thoughts. They were researching the anatomy of the human body. They were trying to find a way to extend life, to discover the fountain of youth through medicine. In the depth of this search, they seemed to be looking for something a bit more than themself. In this search they broke down the body to the cellular level, and they found the blueprint of DNA code; in this code they observed that there is an "inherent program for life." But what they said next really grabbed my eye, "but there is no design for death." They explained that the human body isn't naturally programed to die. Cells don't die because they obey their genetic makeup, for there is no makeup for death; they die because of time and biological wear and tear.
How blindly I completely believe this, I'm unsure, yet even with the evolutionary views of these men they didn't claim anything 'anti-God' by making that point, so I have no immediate moral objections. WHAT I LIKE is the idea that humans don't even have a program for death in their DNA....think about that, WE ARE MADE FOR LIFE down into the very molecular and atomic level of life. Death wasn't in God's plan, and it's evidence is discovered even by those that hate Him. I think of how we someday have bodies raised from death, I think of how we were made for a life in a garden without work and simple walks with God, I think of how the Redeemer went on a missions trip to the earth "so you may have LIFE and life more abundantly." I think of how I have tasted a death I'm not designed to die, but I am made for life. My heart is not made for grief, my heart is made for life. The child here is not made for AIDS, but made for life. There is a promise of eternity that we are created with, these scientists as athiestic they may have been proved to me Romans ch. 1 v. 20 is inside us all.
How blindly I completely believe this, I'm unsure, yet even with the evolutionary views of these men they didn't claim anything 'anti-God' by making that point, so I have no immediate moral objections. WHAT I LIKE is the idea that humans don't even have a program for death in their DNA....think about that, WE ARE MADE FOR LIFE down into the very molecular and atomic level of life. Death wasn't in God's plan, and it's evidence is discovered even by those that hate Him. I think of how we someday have bodies raised from death, I think of how we were made for a life in a garden without work and simple walks with God, I think of how the Redeemer went on a missions trip to the earth "so you may have LIFE and life more abundantly." I think of how I have tasted a death I'm not designed to die, but I am made for life. My heart is not made for grief, my heart is made for life. The child here is not made for AIDS, but made for life. There is a promise of eternity that we are created with, these scientists as athiestic they may have been proved to me Romans ch. 1 v. 20 is inside us all.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
the haircut...
Police, Haircuts, & Software
Okay well here's a bit of the funny side of life here.
I'm driving with about 5 guys in my Bakkie (truck) and a good friend of mine wanted to treat me with gratitude for the ride, so he began to punch me on the arm while driving. Well, I gave a "no thanks" to his greeting, and informed him that my size was alomst 2:1 on his. Well he insisted that he continued greeting me with a punch in the arm, so I did what Jesus would do, I pulled over and began to pull his ear and twist his pinky finger (hey, God and Jacob wrestled, right?). Ladies, it's a guy thing. We show love for each other through this, I promise. As he caved in, I got back on the highway, and within no more than 30 seconds I was being pulled over. Two large African police officers came to the window, with large machine guns, and asked us to get out so they could search the car. I was suprised to see machine guns and had to wonder, "was I speeding that bad?" As it turns out, because theft is so common, and because a white having blacks in a social setting is not common; somebody called in car theft. They thought I was being mugged, and I pulled over for help.
We were laughing about it for awhile, and my friend was kind enough to capture the look on my face with a video camera on his phone, and he was even so kind to show it to the church.
Ok, so the other story is this: the other day I'm taking my Bakkie into the shop. It needed a few small things, and was supposed to take 90 minutes. 90 minutes wasn't enough time for me to go home without having to turn around soon, so I went for a walk in the downtown market. I sat and had brunch and read the paper. I came back to the shop and they said another hour, then an hour later another hour more; so judging this pattern of excellent service I decided to not have coffee #4 but go find a barber shop and get a haircut. I went to "that part of town" (I still get mad that places like this-and the USA--still have 'that part of towns') which was the more traditionally black side of buisness. I went to a barber shop that most whites wouldn't enter, or usually don't. If you know me, you know I LOVE those parts of town, I love the culture of things; I love fried chicken, ribs, and sweet tea, I LOVE basketball on the streets and I love cornerstore shops. I loved African Americans back home, I love Africans here. With all that preface out of the way: the barber I had was, well, not all there. His long dread locks and sleepy eyes and funky smell let me think he liked certain leaves a whole lot, but I took my chances. I asked for about an inch off my shag, and about 2 inches left on top. I also asked for a beard trim. So he began to cut my hair. He said, "is this length okay?" And I said, "just a little less please" (key word: little) Well, he gets the buzzer out, so I'm thinking he wanted to trim my beard next...nope...strait for the head. Before I new what he was doing, my beautiful shaggadelic hair was all gone. I haven't had my hair this short since I was 13 or 14. With SA spring and summer here, I don't mind it that much...but I did have to ask him "what are you doing?!?!" his cunning reply was "I wanted to give you a new look." For fun, I grabbed a pair of scissors on the table, I grabbed one of his long locks of hair, and replied, "can I give you a new look too? Would you like a bald head?" I had a smile on my face, but I don't think he liked the idea of his long hair gettiing cut, although he didn't mind getting rid of mine.
Police...haircuts...oh, yeah, software, um well my media software crashed. Nothing too funny there, but it's been one heck of a week. One of those weeks with all sorts of laughs, good ones (for the most part).
Any lessons for me? Well, Jesus did clean out my million dollar debt, if someone "owes" me 5 bucks, God help me to let go.
But other than that nothing to deep, just a bit of fun mixed into the journey.
in Him
Nate
I'm driving with about 5 guys in my Bakkie (truck) and a good friend of mine wanted to treat me with gratitude for the ride, so he began to punch me on the arm while driving. Well, I gave a "no thanks" to his greeting, and informed him that my size was alomst 2:1 on his. Well he insisted that he continued greeting me with a punch in the arm, so I did what Jesus would do, I pulled over and began to pull his ear and twist his pinky finger (hey, God and Jacob wrestled, right?). Ladies, it's a guy thing. We show love for each other through this, I promise. As he caved in, I got back on the highway, and within no more than 30 seconds I was being pulled over. Two large African police officers came to the window, with large machine guns, and asked us to get out so they could search the car. I was suprised to see machine guns and had to wonder, "was I speeding that bad?" As it turns out, because theft is so common, and because a white having blacks in a social setting is not common; somebody called in car theft. They thought I was being mugged, and I pulled over for help.
We were laughing about it for awhile, and my friend was kind enough to capture the look on my face with a video camera on his phone, and he was even so kind to show it to the church.
Ok, so the other story is this: the other day I'm taking my Bakkie into the shop. It needed a few small things, and was supposed to take 90 minutes. 90 minutes wasn't enough time for me to go home without having to turn around soon, so I went for a walk in the downtown market. I sat and had brunch and read the paper. I came back to the shop and they said another hour, then an hour later another hour more; so judging this pattern of excellent service I decided to not have coffee #4 but go find a barber shop and get a haircut. I went to "that part of town" (I still get mad that places like this-and the USA--still have 'that part of towns') which was the more traditionally black side of buisness. I went to a barber shop that most whites wouldn't enter, or usually don't. If you know me, you know I LOVE those parts of town, I love the culture of things; I love fried chicken, ribs, and sweet tea, I LOVE basketball on the streets and I love cornerstore shops. I loved African Americans back home, I love Africans here. With all that preface out of the way: the barber I had was, well, not all there. His long dread locks and sleepy eyes and funky smell let me think he liked certain leaves a whole lot, but I took my chances. I asked for about an inch off my shag, and about 2 inches left on top. I also asked for a beard trim. So he began to cut my hair. He said, "is this length okay?" And I said, "just a little less please" (key word: little) Well, he gets the buzzer out, so I'm thinking he wanted to trim my beard next...nope...strait for the head. Before I new what he was doing, my beautiful shaggadelic hair was all gone. I haven't had my hair this short since I was 13 or 14. With SA spring and summer here, I don't mind it that much...but I did have to ask him "what are you doing?!?!" his cunning reply was "I wanted to give you a new look." For fun, I grabbed a pair of scissors on the table, I grabbed one of his long locks of hair, and replied, "can I give you a new look too? Would you like a bald head?" I had a smile on my face, but I don't think he liked the idea of his long hair gettiing cut, although he didn't mind getting rid of mine.
Police...haircuts...oh, yeah, software, um well my media software crashed. Nothing too funny there, but it's been one heck of a week. One of those weeks with all sorts of laughs, good ones (for the most part).
Any lessons for me? Well, Jesus did clean out my million dollar debt, if someone "owes" me 5 bucks, God help me to let go.
But other than that nothing to deep, just a bit of fun mixed into the journey.
in Him
Nate
Saturday, September 02, 2006
"just"
It's "just" me and Jesus, so often. That doesn't mean every moment of my life has no sin, no imperfection...the more I dive into God the more I find that the anchors of my flesh hold me back from depth, and I don't go surface I just have to wait to shed them before going below some more...but, it is just me and Jesus, and this pathetic life I give Him somehow gives Him pleasure, somehow He loves having died for me, just so I might give Him a portion of me and hope to strive for all of me...He actually does come meet me even when I'm flippin' stupid, fulfilling His promise "kindness leads us to repentance."
Over and over again I battle a depression Satan wishes to bind me into...many things in my personal world the last few months and years have nearly killed me, and my aching heart sometimes needs the heart of Jesus just to actually physically beat, besides all the soul remedies...and yet, I arise victorious. Yet, though I sometimes look toward lesser things to fulfill me, He comes and advances the Kingdom into me. Though I get angry and I get sad, though as a grown man I sometimes need 5 minutes alone so I can just cry; He takes this week, pathetic vessel, this uncondemmed man and gives me fresh life over and over again. Paul said in Romans we shouldn't prove grace through habitual sin, but I think that even if we did try to do that, His love wouldn't stop. (Just in case: I'm not excusing that and I'm not in bondage to sin...at least not the "big" ones that are external anyway, like drugs and alcohol and pornography...but I find sin in my heart even if I don't do anything that anyone can see, and I find that stuff to be worse anyway) Psalms 139 says we could make a bed in hell, and even there He would find us...and though I don't have plans to go on vacation at the Satan 6 ---I find a Jesus that loves me so much that I almost want to tell Him sometimes that He shouldn't.
So, what can I really say? Can I say I am all I want to be? Yeah right. Can I say I've done what I aspire to do? Nope. Can I say that I possess a corporate driven ministry that is full of lots of church transfers and has money and a bunch of architecture? Thank God, no I can't. Truly, like a tree cut to the stump, it's just me and Jesus. All over again. I'm not trying to be noble or sound good, honestly sometimes I do wish to do more, have more, succeed more...but I can't think of anything I've done that really matters...except, that I know that I love Jesus, and the greatest reason I want to minister to men is that by the end of the day, me and my fellow man will go back to Him, and He again is the reward.
Over and over again I battle a depression Satan wishes to bind me into...many things in my personal world the last few months and years have nearly killed me, and my aching heart sometimes needs the heart of Jesus just to actually physically beat, besides all the soul remedies...and yet, I arise victorious. Yet, though I sometimes look toward lesser things to fulfill me, He comes and advances the Kingdom into me. Though I get angry and I get sad, though as a grown man I sometimes need 5 minutes alone so I can just cry; He takes this week, pathetic vessel, this uncondemmed man and gives me fresh life over and over again. Paul said in Romans we shouldn't prove grace through habitual sin, but I think that even if we did try to do that, His love wouldn't stop. (Just in case: I'm not excusing that and I'm not in bondage to sin...at least not the "big" ones that are external anyway, like drugs and alcohol and pornography...but I find sin in my heart even if I don't do anything that anyone can see, and I find that stuff to be worse anyway) Psalms 139 says we could make a bed in hell, and even there He would find us...and though I don't have plans to go on vacation at the Satan 6 ---I find a Jesus that loves me so much that I almost want to tell Him sometimes that He shouldn't.
So, what can I really say? Can I say I am all I want to be? Yeah right. Can I say I've done what I aspire to do? Nope. Can I say that I possess a corporate driven ministry that is full of lots of church transfers and has money and a bunch of architecture? Thank God, no I can't. Truly, like a tree cut to the stump, it's just me and Jesus. All over again. I'm not trying to be noble or sound good, honestly sometimes I do wish to do more, have more, succeed more...but I can't think of anything I've done that really matters...except, that I know that I love Jesus, and the greatest reason I want to minister to men is that by the end of the day, me and my fellow man will go back to Him, and He again is the reward.
