Colorado Essay #1 (Me and J.C.)

One of the colleges I applied to this year was Colorado Christian University.  They required me to write two 3 page, double-spaced essays on two assigned prompts.  I turned them in around November, and then forgot about them until about a week ago, at which point I decided that, despite being assigned, they came out really good.  (Have to thank God for that one.  I am so incredibly blessed to have the writing skills that I do.)  So here is the first of my two essays.  Hopefully they'll help you guys somehow.  Enjoy.


Prompt: Please describe your personal relationship with Jesus Christ, including the moment you trusted him as your personal Lord and Savior.

People often talk about trusting God “as your personal Lord and savior”, but for me, at least, those were two very different decisions.  Allow me to explain.  I grew up in a Christian home.  My parents and grandparents were all Christians, and my dad was a pastor.  From the time I was born, I knew all about God and how much He loved me and how He sent His son to die for me.  Then, when I was six years old, my parents decided to become missionaries.  My little six-year-old mind decided that if I was going to tell people about Jesus, I needed to know Him for myself.  So I asked Jesus into my heart.  I never really forgot about that day, but I did make the same mistake many Christians make by treating it a bit like fire insurance.  I had prayed the prayer, and now God would save me from hell.  I just needed to be a good Christian for Him, and everything would be cool.  As they say in Poland, to wszystko.  That’s all. 

When I was thirteen years old we had come back from the mission field and I went to a church camp.  The speaker talked all week about Isaiah 64:8 and how as Christians we have to surrender our lives to God so He can mold us into who He wants us to be.  They had a pottery wheel set up for kids to mold their own clay, and on the very last day the speaker took a bunch of spare pots that had been made and threw them on the floor so that they shattered.  Something about that image stuck in my mind, and I began to realize for the first time that “giving my life to Christ”, as it is so often called, was really just that.  God wanted to use me for something incredible, but He could only do that if I gave Him complete control of my life and let Him make it what He wanted it to be.  I was going to have to let Him “break me” and mold me back into what He wanted, into a usable vessel.  That was the day that I promised God that my life was His to do with as He pleased.  I had trusted God as my savior when I was six years old, but it wasn’t until I was thirteen that I began to make Him the Lord of my life. 

Since then my relationship with God has been a bit like a rollercoaster ride.  When my parents felt themselves being called back to the mission field when I was fourteen, I spent a year struggling with God over why He would bring us back and give me such incredible friends, only to rip me away and take me somewhere else.  It felt as if God had more or less disappeared from my life, and there were a few months where I felt completely empty inside.  Then one day I was reading the story in Genesis where Abraham is ready to sacrifice Isaac, and I began to realize that God was making good on the promise I had made him nearly two years before.  He was testing me, seeing if I was really willing to trust Him with my life no matter what.  When I finally came before Him on my knees and told Him that my life was His, even if it meant leaving everything I knew and moving to the other side of the world, I suddenly had a peace and a joy about it that I’ve never felt before.  No matter what happened, I knew God would take care of it.  I had always known that God would do what was best for my life, but that was the first time I had been given the chance to trust Him on it.  When I was sixteen my family finally moved to Krakow, Poland, and looking back I can see that it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me on every level of my life.  I think I have grown closer to God in the last two years than in the rest of my life put together. 

The last two or three years have been full of lessons.  God is teaching me how to trust Him with my life, how to praise Him not matter, how to lean on Him when life gets hard.  He has also been teaching me things about Himself: about how much He loves me and about how there is so much more to Him than the Sunday school version that created the world and “loves the little children”.  The more I learn about Him, the less I seem to know.  God is so huge and so incredible that it blows me away every time I think about it.  I will never understand why a perfect God would send His beloved son to suffer one of the cruelest forms of death in the history of the world so that He could be with selfish, sinful, imperfect me.  I will never understand why God would allow someone as small as me to have a place in His plan.  I will never understand, but I will be forever grateful. 

God has shown so many faces of Himself in my life.  He is my comforter when no one else knows that I’m hurting.  He is my rock when I cannot do it on my own.  He is my friend when I need someone to talk to.  He is my Prince of Peace when I don’t know what to do.  He is my strength and my shield, my protector and my redeemer.  He is the father who gave His son for me, and the Lord to whom I owe everything.  He is the best friend who will never let me down.  In short, God is my everything.  I honestly do not know what I would do without Him in my life. 

Being human, my relationship with God is far from perfect.  There are still times that I turn away from Him, far more than I’d care to admit.  But He always takes me back, thank goodness.  I find it amazing that He continues to forgive someone who screws up as often as I do.  But I am incredibly glad that He does. 

Living for God is not a one-time decision.  It is a decision that must be remade every moment of every day.  Similarly, walking with God is not a simple choice, but rather a life-long journey.  I have given my life to Jesus Christ, my King, and I am doing my best to live every day for Him and for His Kingdom.  As time goes on, I feel that I am beginning to catch glimpses of what God wants for my life, and I find it very exciting to finally begin to understand why He has given me the passions, experiences, and friends that He has.  I am very eager to see where God leads me as I continue on my journey with Him. 

Update:  As most of you know, in February my friend Ryan shot himself.  (Please continue to pray for his friends and family.)  I have been severely struggling for the past (almost) two months with being depressed, being hurt, and being angry at the world and at God.  But I'm trying to get back in the Word, and I'm hopeful that things may begin to get better.  In a way, I think this is growing my faith even more.  I heard a TV show character the other day say this about life: "It hurts like hell.  But that's how you know it's worth it."  In a way, I think he's right.  We need the pain to apreciate the joy, to understand that the things that hurt are the ones truly worth fighting for.  I'm praying for everyone who reads this, that God will show himself to you and help you through whatever it is that you're struggling with.  I love you guys so much.  Take care.


-Ash

"I Still Believe that You're God"

In loving memory of Ryan Mitchell Jennings:  June 14, 1991 - February 4, 2011. 

February 5th started out like any other Saturday.  I got out of bed late, grateful that there was no school.  I was expecting a lazy day of doing nothing, or as close to nothing as I could possibly get with my mom still home.  But when I turned on my computer, all of those thoughts vanished.  I had a message from my youth pastor’s wife back in the States, a message that completely rocked my world.  One of the kids from our youth group had shot himself.  He was only 19 years old. 

Ryan and I had never been incredibly close, but we came from a small church with a youth group that averaged about ten kids on a good day.  We were small, but in our own way we were family.  Ryan was always the life of the group.  He and one other guy were willing to do absolutely anything to make the rest of us laugh.  They could always make us smile, no matter what.  And now he was gone.  Happy, smiling Ryan had taken his own life. 

It was not a good day.  When I finally managed to wrap my brain around what had happened, I was too shocked to react.  But when that finally wore off, I got mad at God.  How could He let this happen?  Why does He let His children hurt so badly that we do stupid things like that?  Where was He in all of that?  When I finally calmed down, God and I had a talk.  He reminded me of some things that I knew with my head, but that my heart had managed to forget.  I don’t know what you guys are going through right now, but my hope is that somehow some of this will help you through it. 

First of all, bad things happen to good people.  That’s just the way it works.  Ever since Adam and Eve disobeyed God, the world has been screwed up.  Humanity is fallen.  Bad things happen.  A lot of times in Americanized Christianity we are told that once we become followers of Christ, God will take protect us and give us everything we want/need, and that our lives will be perfect.  But those promises are nowhere in the Bible.  In fact, just the opposite.  2 Timothy 3:12 says, “In fact, everyone who wants to live a godly life in Jesus Christ will be persecuted...”  Matthew 10:22a says, “All men will hate you because of Me...”  Becoming a follower of Christ does not stop bad things from happening to us.  In fact, many bad things in our lives will happen because we are followers of Christ.  But it is in Christ that we find the strength to pull through these bad things.  Psalm 20:7-8 says, “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.  They are brought to their knees and fall, but we rise up and stand firm.”  2 Corinthians 4:8-9 says, “We are pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”  There are so many Bible verses about how God is our strength.  Psalm 27:1.  Psalm 46:1.  Philippians 4:13.  Romans 8:31-39.  On, and on, and on.  Bad things happen to good people.  But if we trust in God, we can pull through.  No matter what the situation.  The question is never whether or not we can make it through.  The question, rather, is will we trust God enough to turn to Him and let Him pull us through?  Matthew West wrote a beautiful song called “The Reason for the World”, and I encourage you to listen to it.  I absolutely love the chorus.  “Maybe the reason for the pain is so that we would pray for strength.  And maybe the reason for the strength is so that we would not lose hope.  And maybe the reason for our hope is so that we could face the world.  And the reason for the world it to make us long for home.” 

Secondly, God is always with us.  Always.  In Hebrews 13:6, He promises, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”  Joshua 1:9b says, “Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”  God will never leave us.  Sometimes we just think He has.  But that is a lie from Satan.  God is always there, no matter what the situation.  Even when we cannot feel Him, He is still there.  We just have to believe that.  Have you ever read the poem “Footprints in the Sand”?  Life is like that.  Sometimes we think God has left us alone, but once we reach the other side we realize that He was there all along.  We just have to believe.  I wrote a poem once, and part of it went like this:  “For though you could not hear me, / I was speaking in the silence. / And though you could not see, / I stood beside you in the dark. / And when you look behind you / and there’s just one set of footprints, / know that I was carrying you through the pain.”  Red’s new CD has a song called “Not Alone” that captures this perfectly.  Another song I love is "Hold My Heart" by Tenth Avenue North.  Guys, we are not alone.  Remember that. 

There’s also a sub-point here.  God always keeps His promises.  Always.  Our Polish pastor said the other day, “Never doubt in darkness what God told you while it was light.”  Abraham was an old man when God promised that his children would out-number the stars.  And then years go by with no sign of any children.  Abraham and Sarah started to have some doubts.  They were getting old.  If God didn’t do something soon, that dream was going down the toilet.  So they decided to give God a little help.  Abraham sired a child with Sarah’s maid.  But this son was not the one he had been promised.  (Interestingly enough, the Arabs, and therefore the Muslims, are descended from this son.  In trying to help God out, all Abraham really did was create an enemy for the descendants of the son He had been promised.  Can you think of anyone who hates each other more than the Israelis and the Muslims?)  Finally, Sarah and Abraham are past the age of having children.  Looks like God got a little mixed up.  So much for that.  And then angels tell them they are going to have a son.  Sarah, of course, starts laughing.  The woman was in her nineties, and they’re telling her she’s going to have a kid?!  How crazy is that!  But in the end God is right.  She bears a son: Isaac.  And from him come the people of Israel.  And from them, comes the Son of God.  God will always keep His promises.  I truly believe that.  Last year was a hard year for me.  I struggled with a lot of things, and Satan attacked me harder than ever.  At our youth conference this year, I told God that I could not endure another year like that, and that He would have to do something.  But God made me a promise on New Year’s Eve.  He promised me that this year would be a good year.  A hard and painful year, but a good year nonetheless.  It’s February now, and I have already been angry, hurt and depressed.  The year has barely begun, and I have already lost a friend to suicide.  But I still believe that God told me the truth, that somehow, someway, this will be a good year.  I am clinging to that promise.  BarlowGirl wrote a song called "I Belive in Love" that talks about this concept of believing in what we can not see.  "I believe in the sun even when it's not shining.  I believe in love even when I don't feel it.  And I believe in God even when He is silent."

Thirdly, God has a plan.  What’s more, He has a plan that will work things out for the good of His Kingdom and His people.  “For we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”  That means us, guys.  God’s children.  Jeremiah 29:11 says, “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’”  Even when it seems like the whole world is falling apart, God still has a plan.  I’m going to be honest with you guys.  I know that Ryan’s death was not a part of God’s plan.  He still had his whole life ahead of him.  But it was his choice.  And despite the horrible tragedy, I also know that God is able to use even this in His plan.  I know He has already found a way to use this situation for good.  How, I have no idea.  But I believe that He can, and that He will.  That’s what has kept me going these past few days, knowing that no matter how hurt I am, or how horrible this situation is, God will find a way. 

Fourth point.  It is okay to ask God why.  We tend to think that it’s very taboo to be angry at God.  But honestly, I think God would much rather we just be honest.  He already knows how we’re feeling, even if we don’t tell Him.  Job got mad at God after everything that was happening to Him.  It’s okay to be angry.  It’s okay to ask God why.  One of the speakers at our youth conference told us that, “God can handle whatever you can dish out.”  God is not in any way intimidated by your anger.  You don’t scare Him.  He can handle anything you throw His way.  It’s okay to get angry.  Where I think it starts to get dangerous, is when we start blaming God for what goes wrong.  Because in all honesty, none of it is His fault.  Bad things happen because humanity is fallen and the world is screwed up.  And yes, God can prevent bad things from happening.  But just because He chooses not to does not make it His fault.  God could have stepped in and stopped Ryan from pulling the trigger, but He didn’t.  He let Ryan make the choice.  And as hurt and as angry as I was at Him for letting it happen, it was not His fault.  But I think questioning can be okay, if you do it the right way.  Arrogant demanding, not so much.  But questioning because you are hurt and upset, I think, is okay.  God called David a man after His own heart, and yet there are many places in Psalms where David questions God.  Red has another song called “Let It Burn”, which seems to me to be a cry to God asking Him where He is and why He has not acted.  Questioning God is okay.  Just be sure not to blame Him for what has happened. 

Fifth point.  We need each other.  I am dead serious.  Guys, we cannot go through life alone.  We are social beings, and we are not meant to be alone.  Believe me, I would know.  I’m the blockhead who always thinks I can do things on my own and refuses to be weak or ask for help in any way because I think I have to be strong enough.  But I’m also the idiot who ends up falling on my face because I’m simply not that strong.  So believe me when I say that we are not strong enough to do this alone.  We need each other.  We need to be willing to ask for help.  We need to reach out to each other and let each other know that we’re here.  Don’t let it all build up until it breaks you.  I have had to lean on so many people the past few days, because this whole situation is just too much for me to carry on my own.  I have hurt, I have refused to talk, and I have shouted at the world.  I have been angry, sad, depressed, and lonely.  I have wanted nothing more than to be back in the States with the people who knew Ryan and who are hurting just as much as I am.  And yes, I have cried.  A lot.  And I’ve shut people out.  I’m not very good at letting people be there for me, and I don’t like having to do it.  But it’s something that I have to do.  No matter how strong we think we are, we need each other.  And what’s more, we need God.  He is strong enough to get us through anything.  We just have to be willing to turn to Him.  We have to stop being arrogant human beings and admit that we are weak, that we need Him.  And, whether we like it or not, we also need each other. 

Back to my life.  This week has been... intense.  There have been a lot of ups and downs.  I’ve spent a lot of time struggling with what happened, and with the fact that I can’t physically be there right now for my friends and for Ryan’s family.  The funeral was on Friday, and it hurt not to be there.  I haven’t slept much since it happened, mostly because I just have too much going on in my head right now, and sometimes I can barely make it through class.  School seems horribly pointless right now, and there are days when it takes everything I have to focus in class, let alone do my homework.  I've been listening to a lot of songs like "Save a Place for Me" (Matthew West), "Zero" (Hawk Nelson), "Every Saturday" (Seventh Day Slumber), and "Broken" (Lifehouse).  But I’m holding to God, and I’ve been talking about it to some people I know, and it is very slowly getting better.  If I can, let me ask that you keep Ryan’s friends and family in your prayers.  They have a long road ahead of them. 

So this one wasn’t quite as in-depth as some of the others, mostly because I’m too worn out physically and emotionally to get really hardcore about it.  But I think some of you guys needed to hear this.  I hope this was helpful somehow.  Love you all, and thanks for being there when I need you.

-Ash

Why Two Pieces of Wood Are Better Than a Valentine's Day Card

Hey gang!  First up, I had originally been planning on saving something like this for Easter.  But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like God was telling me that some of you need to hear this now, myself included.  So I’m going to talk about the cross.  This may get a bit long, and I can guarantee you it won’t be very pretty, but I think the basic message is one we all need.  And I’m actually not talking about the traditional salvation message, although it will come pretty close.  But before you roll your eyes and decide to take a rain-check on this one, let me assure you that this will not be the traditional Sunday school “Jesus died on the cross because He loves you, and isn’t that great?” spiel.  Hang with me for a few minutes, and I’ll show you what I mean. 

Before we get to the cross, however, we need to talk about the Romans.   The Romans were not mediocre guys.  What they did, they did well.  Even after the Empire collapsed, it left an absolutely astonishing impact on the world.  They built roads that connected the world as it had never been connected before.  They played a large part in the architectural movements that followed.  Much of modern law and public administration was inspired by Roman roots.  Today the vast majority of words in the English language are somehow related to Latin. 

There was one thing, however, that has always stood out to me.  The Roman Empire was good at pain.  While crucifixion was not a Roman invention (most give that credit to the Persians), they took large steps to perfect it.  When the Romans were finished, crucifixion was such a painful death that Roman citizens were almost never sentenced with it unless they were accused of high treason.  Instead, it was a punishment reserved for slaves, pirates, severe criminals, and enemies of the state.  Crucifixion was designed to be more than just a simple execution.  It was intended to completely mutilate and dishonor the body of the condemned, to make them suffer and die in horrible agony.  Adding insult to injury (literally) was the fact that a funeral was almost always forbidden.  In the Roman view an honorable death required a burial, and so for the body to be mutilated and then left on a cross for the crows was the worst dishonor imaginable, thus showing off the victim’s low social status.  Crucifixion was ugly. 

Somehow over the years, we have managed to water the crucifixion down to a happy Sunday school story about a guy who loves us very much and died on this thing called a cross and then rose from the dead, and isn’t that nice?  Somehow we managed to completely lose the true story of the cross.  It was not pretty.  Not at all.  In fact, it was the exact opposite.  The cross was a symbol of death and agony and of the tyranny of Roman rule.  But what happened on this particular cross was beautiful.  Extremely so.  Our God seems to really love irony. 

To get to the cross, we have to start in the garden of Gethsemane.  (I highly encourage you to read the accounts of the crucifixion from each of the four gospels, as each one notes different details that the others left out.)  Jesus, knowing what is coming, goes off by Himself and prays.  One of the most famous lines from that prayer is this: “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done. (Luke 22:42)”  Luke goes on to say that Jesus is already “in anguish”, and that He actually begins to sweat blood, a rare phenomenon that only occurs under extreme emotional stress.  When He finally gets up and goes back to check on His disciples, He finds them all asleep.  So much for loyal friends.  All Jesus asked was that they stay awake!  But it is obviously not His night as far as friendships go.  Judas, one of His trusted inner circle, is the one who leads the guards to the garden, a place Jesus had probably taken His disciples often.  Judas marks the soldiers’ target by giving Him a kiss, throwing salt in the fresh wound His betrayal has probably caused.  The disciples prove next to useless (although Peter does manage to cut off a servant’s ear), and rather than trying to buy Jesus time to escape, they split.  I mean, those guys are gone!  It’s almost like a disappearing act.  Now you see ‘em, now you don’t.  Peter and another disciple (presumably John) do find the courage to follow Jesus from a distance, but then even loyal Peter breaks down and denies even knowing Jesus not once, but three times.  This is the part that would have absolutely killed me.  Not only is Jesus facing a horribly painful death, but He is now doing it completely alone. 

Inside the high priest’s house, the Jews are busy eating Jesus alive.  They hold a mock trial, complete with fake witnesses (whose stories are so conflicting that any idiot can immediately tell they are lying).  Even the Pharisees can find no charge to try Him on, until finally they stumble across what they believe to be blasphemy (although in fact Jesus really was the Son of God).  This is where things really start to get physical.  The first actual blow comes from a soldier who strikes Jesus for answering the high priest in what he saw as a disrespectful manner.  When they finally have their charge, the Pharisees hand Jesus over to the palace guards for a while.  They, in turn, begin to hit Him and spit on Him.  Soon they blindfold Him and taunt Him, urging Him to prophesy and tell them which one struck Him. 

When morning finally comes, the Pharisees drag Jesus over to see Pilate, the only one with the authority to give a death-sentence.  At this point Jesus is bruised, battered, sleep-deprived, dehydrated, and emotionally worn-down.  Pilate is unable to find any charge to use against Jesus (because He is innocent!), but he is also absolutely terrified of the crowds, who the Pharisees have managed to stir up.  If he goes against the crowd he might spark rebellion, which could lead to him losing his job, maybe even his life.  So he instead passes Jesus off to Herod, who is in control of the province of Galilee where Jesus is from.  Herod gets excited at the prospect of a magic show, and tries to get Jesus to perform miracles.  (This part always strikes me.  Sometimes we make the same mistake.  Sometimes what we want is not a miracle from God, but a show to entertain us.  Ouch.)  Unable to get the reaction he wants, Herod finally gets bored.  He and his soldiers mock Jesus a bit, dress him up like a king, and send him right back to Pilot. 

Pilot has yet to get over his fear of the crowd.  He tries to stand up to the Jews, insisting that Jesus has committed no crime, but they remain persistent as ever.  Pilot tries to compromise by agreeing to have Jesus flogged.  The Pharisees, however, will be satisfied by nothing less than Jesus’ death.  There is an ancient custom that on the Passover Pilate will release one prisoner, and he tries to use this as an excuse to release Jesus.  But the Jews turn the tables on Him by insisting that he instead release Barabbas.  (Interesting note: Barabbas is presumed to be a freedom fighter, and has been imprisoned on the charge of murder.  However, seeing as he was probably on trial for the murder of Romans, many of the Jews might have viewed him as a hero rather than as the criminal he is traditionally painted as (Mark 15:7, Luke 23:25)).  The Jews begin to cry for Jesus’ crucifixion, and finally Pilate’s fear of the crowd wins out.  He releases Barabbas, and then washes his hands of the responsibility of Jesus’ blood (really little more than a symbolic gesture) and orders that He be flogged and then crucified. 

There are two theories on the how flogging might have gone, although both would have involved Jesus being stripped of His clothes and having his hands tied to a pole.  Both would also have been extremely painful.  One method suggested is the cat o’ nine tails, a handle with nine leather thongs.  Often times these “tails” had sharp pieces of glass, bone, rock, and pottery tied into them to make tearing skin and muscle even easier.  The other theory suggests that a flagrum might have been used: a short whip, also with several leather thongs, although these thongs had small balls of lead tied near the ends to act as weights so that the whip came down with full force.  Either way, the skin and muscle of Jesus’ back, shoulders, and probably legs would have been torn to ribbons.  The whipping would typically not have been stopped until the centurion in charge decided that the prisoner was close to death.  There is some speculation that Jesus might have received 39 lashes (Jewish law forbade more than 40 - Deuteronomy 25:3 – and so the traditional number was 39, just in case someone miscounted), but no one really knows for sure. 

Not satisfied with the whipping, the soldiers proceed to mock Jesus further by giving Him a kingly robe and smashing a crown of thorns onto His head.  When they are finally tired of hitting and mocking, they remove the robe (which might have reopened all of the wounds on His back) and send Him off to be crucified. 

Tradition requires Jesus to carry the crosspiece of His own cross to the place of HHis crucifixion.  The huge wooden beam would have been heavy even for a strong man, let alone one as tired as Jesus must now be.  Not to mention that He would be forced to carry it on His freshly-whipped back.  It’s no wonder that a completely-exhausted Jesus finally gives out.  The Romans pull a man out of the crowd and order Him to carry the crosspiece the rest of the way.  When they finally reach the crucifixion sight, the true ordeal begins. 

Jesus is placed with his back against the cross.  That alone would have been painful.  But then sharp stakes are driven through His wrists.  (In the wrists the nail could be driven securely between two bones.  They could not be placed in the hands, as tradition dictates, because the flesh would have torn and the victim would have fallen.)  His feet are placed one on top of the other and another nail is driven through them.  This would have been excruciating enough in its own right.  Added on top of everything else Jesus had been through, it would have been complete agony.  Although it was probably one of the last things on His mind at the time, there was also the insult of being crucified between two convicted thieves. 

The cross is raised and things only get worse.  The nails in Jesus’ wrists are putting extreme pressure directly on His nerves.  The only way to avoid this pain is to push Himself up on His feet, which causes the same pain as the nail in His feet tears through more nerves.  Muscle cramps only make things worse, eventually leaving Him hanging by His arms.  This position, however, makes it incredibly hard to breathe, and He is forced to pull Himself up again, scraping His torn back against the rough wood.  This cycle could go on for hours, sometimes even days if the victim was strong enough.  Eventually muscles will give out, and the victim will be unable to pull themselves up, resulting in death by suffocation.  (Somewhere in this time one of the thieves also comes to belief in Jesus, but we’ll leave that discussion for another time.) 

Throughout all of this, the Jews below are mocking and jeering, taunting Jesus to save Himself.  They say they will believe if He comes down off the cross.  But, like Herod, they are looking for no miracles.  They only want a show.  And yet, in the midst of their mockery, Jesus somehow finds the breath to say, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”  Wow.  That absolutely blows my mind.  Even after everything they have done, Jesus is still hanging on the cross for them. 

Eventually the time comes.  Jesus, now bearing the full weight of the sins of all humanity, cries out to God, asking why He had been forsaken.  God is unable to bear the sight of sin, even when it is born on the shoulders of His own son.  Jesus is forced to bear that burden alone, knowing that God has turned away.  Finally it becomes too much, and he cries out “It is finished.”  And then He’s gone. 

Finally the Sabbath draws near, and the Jews, ever eager to keep the law, ask for the crucifixion to be ended so they can get rid of the bodies before the Sabbath starts, thus keeping themselves pure.  This was commonly done by breaking the victim’s legs so they were unable to pull themselves up, thus quickening their death by suffocation.  Jesus, however, is already dead, and as such His legs remain unbroken (exactly as foretold by Isaiah).  But just to be sure, the soldiers pierce His side with a spear.  Interestingly enough, what comes out is a mixture of blood and water.  This indicates that Jesus did not, in fact, die from the usual suffocation, but rather from heart failure, presumably caused by the severe trauma He had endured. 

We know the rest of the story.  Jesus is buried in a tomb and rises three days later, victorious over death.  As the song so eloquently puts it, “Christ is risen from the dead, trampling over death by death.”  Jesus won.  We know that.  “Veni, vidi, vici,” as Julius Ceasar once said.  “I came, I saw, I conquered.”  To wszystko (Polish for “that’s it”).  Now we have the chance to spend eternity with our Savior and Lord.  We no longer have to pay the price for our sins.  The debt has been paid, and we are finally free. 

Now to the point.  I am writing this devo on this particular subject for two reasons.  The first is one I mentioned earlier.  Somewhere over time we have forgotten what really happened on the cross.  In order for us to understand just how awesome God’s grace is and how incredibly much we owe to Him, we have to first understand everything that went into the cross.  Because once we do, we will be completely blown away.  I think once we truly understand that sacrifice, we will be willing to give our lives completely to Him with no reservations.  How else could we ever hope to pay Him back?  And even that is so small a gift compared to His.  One of my favorite worship songs of all time is “Once Again” by Fusebox, which describes how humbling it is to realize just how high a price Jesus paid for us.  I also love Jeremy Camp’s song “Breaking My Fall”, which talks about how Jesus took our fall even though we are flimsy and weak, and how we can never hope to pay Him back.  Very cool stuff. 

Before I go on to the second reason, let me say first that I am in no way trying to downplay the message of salvation.  It is the most important message in all of history.  Without it, there is no hope.  Without it, we have no reason to live.  Without it, we are all condemned to an eternity in hell.  But most of us already know that message.  And, as incredibly, indescribably important that message is, there is another message that I think some of us need more right now.  I know from speaking with a lot of you that many of us are going through some rough times.  Many of us are hurting, and in most of our cases the world around us has absolutely no idea.  Some of us are wondering if anyone even cares.   This is the main reason why I feel like God wanted me to talk about the crucifixion.  Because there is a simple, basic, fundamental message here that we so easily forget.  That message is this: God loves you.  I don’t care how screwed up you feel, how hurt, how broken, how depressed, how unworthy, or how unlovable.   God loves you.  It doesn’t matter how many times you have sinned.  It doesn’t matter how often you have run from Him or spit in His face.  It doesn’t matter how hurt or broken or worthless or screwed up you feel.  God loves you.  He may be saddened by your choices, or by the way you have been hurt, but no matter where you are, God loves you. 

I watched a TV mini-series a while back called “Knights of Bloodsteel”.  Personally, I was not a fan.  The actors were talented, and the plot had a lot of potential, but I felt like the script left a lot to be desired.  It was predictable, left far too much unexplained, got a bit overly-dramatic, and some of the humor fell pretty flat.  (Sorry to those of you who did like it.  I’m not trying to bash it or anything.  I just didn’t like it!)  But there was one part that will stick in my mind forever.  A soldier who has failed in his duty has been brought before the villain of the series, a monstrous-looking (but sadly not very intimidating) guy named Dragon-Eye.  Trying to save his own skin, the soldier says everything he can think of to reaffirm his loyalty to his master, even saying that he will die for his lord.  At this, Dragon-Eye looks at him and says something I will never forget.  “Yes, but would you suffer?”  (Not sure if those are the exact words, but that was the gist.)  The profound wisdom of that statement has stuck with me.  In a way, I think what Dragon-Eye says is true.  We always say that the greatest show of love is to die for someone.  But sometimes I think that there are some cases where suffering actually says more.  Taking a bullet in the heart for someone is one thing.  A few seconds of pain and then you enter eternity.  But what if you push someone out of the way of a bus and have to spend the rest of your life paralyzed from the waist down?  I’m not trying to say that one sacrifice is greater than the other, or takes a greater amount of love than another.  But dying for someone can be a snap-second decision.  When people ask us to suffer, sometimes we have to think about it for a minute.  I’m not saying that death is easy.  Far from it.  But suffering…  Suffering can be incredibly hard. 

So back to the point.  Why did I just spend an entire paragraph talking about something a not-so-scary villain says in a TV series that most people have never heard of?  Because suffering is hard.  Suffering for someone shows just as much love as dying for them, sometimes maybe even more.  If someone dies for you, if they are willing to suffer for you, you know for sure that they really, truly love you.  Jesus did both.  Not only was He willing to die for you, He was willing to suffer incredible agony and then die one of the cruelest forms of death in history for you.  He did it because He loved you so much that He could not bear to be separated from you for eternity.  So He gave His life so that you had the chance to be with Him forever.  And even if you were the only person on this earth, even if you had personally hit Him and spit in His face, even if He knew that you would never accept His offer, I am fully convinced that He would have still come and died for you anyway, just so you could have the chance of being with Him.  God loves us more than we could ever imagine or understand.  I know that’s a basic concept, and it’s one that we probably all know, but I feel like it’s something many of us need to be reminded of right now, myself included.  So wherever you are, whatever you’re going through, no matter how worthless or screwed up you feel, know that God loves you so much that it’s insane.  And just so you guys know?  So do I. 

I don’t know what you’re going through, and I don’t know if I can help in anyway.  (If any of you ever want to talk, or if there’s anything I can do for you, or even if you just want prayer, please let me know.)  But God knows exactly where you are, and He knows exactly what you’re feeling.  He understands.  Jesus came and walked among us.  He was human.  He knew what it was to be mistreated and misunderstood.  The people in His hometown tried to throw Him off a cliff (Luke 4:24-30)!  There were times His own family didn’t understand why He did what He did (Luke 2:41-50).  He knew how it felt to be betrayed by friends (Luke 22:54-61).  He knew how it felt to lose people He cared about (John 11:32-36).  He knew how it felt to be upset and angry, to feel like you’re all alone.  And even if no one else does, He understands.  So whatever you’re going through, take it to Him.  Because He loves you.  And I know that doesn’t sound like much help.  But I promise you that Jesus understands, and He will never ever leave you.  Even when you can’t see Him, He is there.  Like the poem “Footprints in the Sand.”  Even if there’s just one set of footprints, know that God never left you.  I love Britt Nicole’s song “When She Cries” because it talks about a girl dealing with cutting and all sorts of other things and how God is there when she cries.  Really good song. 

Okay, so this sort of ended up being about two different things.  But I think it worked out okay.  I could probably go on about this for pages, but you guys have lives, so I’ll cut it short.  :)  Basically I just want you guys to know that God loves you more than you can possibly imagine.  And so do I.  To wszystko.  If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.  You can always e-mail me at jesusfreak.Lk923@gmail.com  Praying for you guys.  Catch you later.

-Ash

The Weirdest Birthday Ever (a.k.a. Back to the Manger)

Hey guys!  :)  So, Christmas is almost upon us.  Everybody’s thinking about it: snow, Santa, presents, spending the day with family.  It gets crazier every year.  Christmas decorations are going up in October now.  Shopping is insane beyond belief.  There are a hundred Christmas parties to go to, a thousand gifts to buy, and a million people to make sure and send a Christmas card to.  That is, if you can even get everyone together and still long enough for a semi-decent Christmas picture.  So much for “peace on earth.”  Amy Grant’s song “I Need a Silent Night” captures that frazzled feeling, and I fell in love with it last year because it was just so accurate. 

But on to the point of this Americanized-Christmas bashing monologue.  (Like my use of adjectives, Beth?)  I’m pretty sure everybody reading this knows the Christmas story.  In fact, we know it so well that we’ve become desensitized to its magic.  Hopefully this will help to get rid of some of that and bring back some of the magic of Christmas into your lives.  One of my favorite Christmas songs is Third Day’s “Christmas Like a Child.”  Check it out, when you have time. 

The following conversation is a little creative writing project that popped into my head.  I’m betting you’ve never heard anything quite like it.  Hopefully this new spin will bring some of that magic back into Christmas.

“Hello, Jesus.  I’m Angel Michael.  I’m in charge of planning your ‘Grand Entrance’, as we’re calling it.” 

“Hello, Michael.  Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise.  Now then, let’s get down to business, shall we?  I see that you’ve already selected a date.  So the next question would be, what kind of a feel are we going for here?  Majestic ruler of the world, and all that?” 

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of arriving as a baby.” 

“Ah, the ‘appeal of innocence’ approach.  A good choice.  Which brings us to location.  This approach is much easier to fit in, so that opens up a lot more venues.  One option would be going into the high priest’s family.  Or, if you’d prefer a more secular approach, we could also arrange for Herod to have another son.  Good publicity there.  The best choice, of course, would be to go in as a close relative of Caesar, but I’m assuming you’d rather stick with someone with more Jewish roots?” 

“Correct.  But I was actually thinking about something simpler.  Say...  Maybe the son of a carpenter?” 

“Hm.  Less publicity that way, but the appeal to the common man increases and that might balance it out.  I assume you’re still thinking Jerusalem?” 

“What about somewhere simpler?  How about Bethlehem, for example?” 

“King David was from there, so it would be a fairly symbolic choice.  Maybe we could even arrange for his house?” 

“I was thinking maybe somewhere simpler, like a stable.” 

“Definitely not my first choice.  But...  The story would definitely draw attention.  Speaking of attention.  If you’re really sold on Bethlehem, I suggest we compensate with extra advertising.  We could, for example, rearrange the stars so they say ‘The Messiah has been born.’  Bright lights would also be a nice touch.  And I think I can arrange for a decent angel chorus.” 

“The angels are a good idea.  But I’m not so sure about the star banner...” 

“I suppose it might be a bit much...  What would you suggest?” 

“We could just put a new star in the sky.” 

“Not bad, but it is a bit subtle.  Only certain astronomers would notice.  How about a compromise?  We get one star, but make it really big and bright.  And position it directly above the stable.” 

“I like that idea.” 

“Alright.  That brings us to the guest list.  I’m looking at my calendar, and it looks like both Herod and the high priest are free that weekend.  There are also several noted scholars, Pharisees, and officials who could probably make it.  I might also be able to arrange for a few Eastern kings, although they would be a bit late.  Who else did you have in mind?” 

“Well, I wasn’t really planning on it being that big of a celebration...” 

“Not exactly the party type, eh?  Well, I suppose we can forgo the officials.  Although Herod and the high priest should probably both come.” 

“The Eastern kings are alright.  I don’t mind if they’re late.  But I’m not too sure about Herod and the high priest...” 

“It would be extremely good advertising.” 

“Yeah...  But I was thinking more along the lines of common people.  They are who I’m going for, after all.” 

“Alright.  I suppose we can downsize a little.  There are some notable persons in the Bethlehem area.  I can probably arrange for them to be there.  Unless you had something else in mind?” 

“Actually, there are a lot of shepherds around there, and they tend to get left out.  We could invite them.” 

“No offense, Jesus, but there’s a reason they don’t get invited to parties.” 

“Well invite them anyway.  And send the angel chorus to tell them.” 

“It seems a bit of a waste of talent to send the angels to shepherds...” 

“I know they’ll appreciate it.” 

“Okay.  I guess if that’s what you want...  I’ll send a cleaning crew down to the stable tomorrow to fix it up.  And I’ll make sure the shepherds have enough notice to make themselves presentable.” 

”Don’t worry about it.  The stable will be fine.  And so are the shepherds.  They can come however they want.” 

“Jesus, I’m not sure if you’ve ever been in a stable.  Or around shepherds.  But they stink.  Seriously.  I highly suggest cleaning up a bit.” 

“It’ll be fine just as it is.  Really.  I insist.” 

“Okay, Jesus.  It’s your party.  And if you don’t mind my saying so, this is definitely the weirdest birthday party I have ever planned.” 

Okay, okay, so it was pretty cheesy.  But I think you get the point.  The Christmas story was not the big, explosive event we all seem to envision it as.  There were no resounding trumpets signaling his arrival.  The world did not stop spinning, and the night sky did not become ablaze with light.  The shepherds got a chorus of angels, and the kings in the east got a new star.  The rest of the world just kept going, business as usual, completely unaware of what had just happened.  The Casting Crowns song “While You Were Sleeping” puts it this way:

"Oh little town of Bethlehem, looks like another silent night.  Above your deep and dreamless sleep, a giant star lights up the sky.  And while you're lying in the dark, there shines an everlasting light.  For the King has left his throne and is sleeping in a manger tonight.  Oh, Bethlehem, what you have missed while you were sleeping..."

That image completely blows my mind.  The son of God was born into the world, and no one knew!  They had no idea that somewhere in a filthy stable in a backwards town in tiny Israel the wife of a nameless carpenter was giving birth to a child with the power to save them all.  No one knew. 

But it goes beyond that.  The Christmas story is not the magical fairy tale we have painted it to be.  To begin with, Mary, a young girl in Nazareth, is suddenly pregnant with a child even though she swears she has never been with a man.  Because she is engaged, she could easily be charged with adultery, the punishment for which was stoning.  Joseph, the carpenter to whom she is engaged, nearly divorces her because he does not want her to be killed.  Just imagine how hurt and betrayed he must have felt.  Imagine how terrified Mary must have been.  But an angel comes to Joseph in his sleep and explains it all, and Joseph decides to marry her anyway.  My guess would be that they quickly became the town outcasts, the ones who were whispered about as they passed by.  Life would have been hard, to say the least.  But then some bright guy decides he wants to have a census, and Mary and Joseph are forced to make the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem.  The two cities are about 80 miles apart, and a man in good condition could have walked about 20 miles a day, making it a four-day journey.  But Mary was heavily pregnant, and there could have been a wide variety of other obstacles, so many people assume the journey would have actually taken around a week. 

It only gets worse from there.  They reach Bethlehem only to find that no one has any room, and their only option is in a filthy, smelly stable with all the animals.  Definitely the last place in the world you would want to give birth.  Not to mention that there were no drugs back then to ease the birth.  It was all natural.  Using the word “painful” would be the understatement of the year.  (It typically is when describing childbirth.)  I imagine Mary just about squeezed Joseph’s hand off, and the poor carpenter probably just about had a heart attack hoping nothing went wrong.  And when the beautiful baby boy was finally born, his parents had to place him in a feed trough because there was nowhere else.  I don’t know about you, but I find that image pretty humbling.  The Son of God was placed in a feed trough in a stable because no one else had room for him.  The Savior of the world was born into one of the lowest, filthiest, stinkiest places on earth so He could grow up and die on a cross to save the sins of people, many of whom would completely reject that gift.  Talk about love. 

From there the story just gets crazier.  There was no huge party celebrating Jesus’ birth, no fireworks or television announcement.  The only people who did know were the shepherds.  This is another part of the story that really gets me.  You have a whole town crammed full of people, and you send the angels to the shepherds?  Seriously?  Why not Jerusalem?  Here’s the thing about shepherds.  They hung out with sheep, which meant they stank.  I mean really stank.  And that’s saying a lot, considering that people in Bible times weren’t very good at hygiene anyway.  Shepherds didn’t even make the totem pole of society.  Pretty much the only people lower than them were prostitutes, tax collectors, and “sinners.”  So why send the angels to them?  I think there are two reasons.  Firstly, because these were exactly the people Jesus had come to save.  He didn’t come for the Pharisees and teachers of the law because they believed they could save themselves.  Jesus came to save the weak and the low, the outcasts and the unimportant.  Which brings us to the second reason.  The shepherds knew they had very little social standing, and therefore the importance of the event would not be lost on them.  They would understand how incredibly privileged they were to meet the Savior, and they would be overjoyed that they were given the chance to be there first.  They were at a place in life where they would appreciate God’s gift for what it was. 

The other set of visitors mentioned in the Bible are Magi from the east.  These guys were no even Jews.  They were Gentiles, probably from somewhere near Babylon (that would have given them access to the writings of Daniel, which would have helped them discover the star’s purpose).  And yet it was they who noticed the star and sought out what it meant.  They dug through scrolls and prophecies until they thought they understood the star’s meaning, and then they set out on a journey that finally led them to Bethlehem as much as two years after Jesus’ birth.  It was they, not the Jews, who understood who this little child was.  They brought him gifts befitting a king.  They understood what the Jews had missed.  Personally, I think it was because they were really truly looking.  There was something in their hearts that wanted to find a savior.  Why else would they have set out on such a journey following a star, of all things, to where such a person might have been born?  Not to say that the Jews were not looking.  They were.  But they were looking for someone quite different.  They wanted a mighty king who would free them from the Romans, not a man who would die to save their souls.  And so what I see as the greatest irony of the Christmas story came about: it was shepherds, not priests, who were present the night Jesus was born, and it was Gentiles, not Jews, who acknowledged him as king.  The Jews, the people Jesus had originally come for, completely and totally missed it from the very beginning.  Sometimes I think Americans have the same problem.  We are looking in all the wrong places for all the wrong things.  We are so caught up in our busy lives that we completely miss the tiny baby waiting in the manger. 

Recently I’ve found myself drifting away from “traditional” Christmas music and more towards songs that talk about what Christmas is really about.  Not that I don’t still love “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, or Stellar Kart’s “Punk the Halls”.  But as I’m growing older and getting a better grasp on the real majesty of the Christmas story, I find that I’m beginning to prefer songs that tell that story.  Some of my favorites include “The Night Before Christmas” by Brandon Heath and “How Many Kings” by Downhere.  Todd Agnew’s “Do You See What I See” album covers the Christmas story from several different viewpoints, and I absolutely love how real and powerful it is.  Definitely check it out.  You won’t regret it.  You should also see the movie The Nativity Story if you haven’t already.  Once again, a very real and very powerful depiction of the Christmas story. 

Anyways.  Hope some of that gives you guys something to think about.  My hope is that this Christmas you will be able to pull back from all of the craziness that is Christmas and find some time to focus on what it’s really all about.  Make time for the baby in the manger.  Don’t spend the whole holiday looking in all the wrong places. 

Love you guys a ton.  Wishing a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of you!