Doin Work.

Sometimes the simplest of actions do the best job of illustrating the magnitude of God’s power.

I read Hebrews 4 today. Verse 12 talks about a Word of God that is “living and active,” a Word that is hard at work- and there’s no doubting that. It’s actually becoming more and more abundantly clear to me just how much God’s Word is moving.

What’s been so funny is how I see it in action- or rather, the ways God chooses to show us things. The apostle Paul mentions twice (in 1 Corinthians 1 and Ephesians 3) that God uses the foolish, the weak, the least, and the insignificant to make his Gospel known and to make Himself glorified. I’ve been learning, though, that this doesn’t apply only to people but also to situations. Activities. Circumstances. He uses the measliest things to awe us in all these instances as well.

It’s as elementary as this: We spend seconds on this earth that matter in eternity. Some moments in time that may seem inconsequential to us now- a few guys meeting up in a basement, a girl playing a song on the piano, a young man flying south to say goodbye to a friend- somehow end up monumental in the grand scheme of things. A soul experiences the amazing love of Christ. A life is transformed. A church lays a foundation. God does work.

Today, incredibly, these things happened.

Here is one of these stories:

For the past few months I have been a part of a ministry in the Tenderloin called Adopt a Building. We have been going into some apartments in one of the roughest areas in the city and working to plant and sustain churches in each and every one of them by building relationships with residents and discipling and equipping them with the Gospel so that they can be a light to their neighbors- and eventually, their neighborhood.

I myself have been going into a building named The Aranda for the past few weeks with a couple other guys. And in this short time frame, I’ve already become a passenger to the ups and downs of this increasingly difficult- but increasingly rewarding process. People have become our friends and our brothers in faith. People have opened doors for us and allowed us into their lives. But people we have invested in have turned their backs on us. People have moved in and out of the building and lost touch. People have flat out refused us.

Still, God was moving.

As we spent more time there, we met a few men and women that were especially open to us. We got to know them, serve them, love them. We found fellow believers who wanted to see God working in the Aranda as much as we do. We spent time with them one on one, talking to them about the Gospel and waiting to see how God would work through us and through them. We decided to learn together and grow together and have Him move through us to accomplish that work…

…And today we gathered as a church- the church in the Aranda- for the first time.

There were six of us, and we met in a basement and sat on folding chairs and ate chips and drank Diet Dr. Peppers and shared about ourselves and our lives with each other. And we laughed and prayed and encouraged and hoped and rejoiced with each other. And we watched with each other as God did work. As God sowed the seeds of something that has the potential to be amazing. As God used us- the least of us in the simplest of gatherings- to magnify His name in a huge way.

I read about the living and active Word of God today.

I saw it today too.

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Now playing: Enfield – And Can It Be?

So. Last week.

I was having a conversation with a dear friend about beauty and what a blessing it is that such a concept was created. The ability to experience this sensation with each of our five senses is incredible- we can see, hear, taste, smell, and feel beauty- but what is even more amazing is that it transcends our senses. We recognize beautiful acts, thoughts, feelings, emotions. It resonates in our hearts like only the most important things do.

What’s sad is that sometimes it still seems like we have to be forced to appreciate it. We seldom go out of our way to seek out something beautiful; instead we only embrace beauty if it happens upon us, almost like these encounters are by accident. It’s unfortunate that these small miracles are so inconsequential to us because we are either too far-sighted to see right in front of us or too short-sighted to truly look around us. These gifts meant to be treasured are taken for granted. In fact, many times we only notice beauty intended for us when we are made to notice.

Case in point: I left work last Wednesday, took same walk to the Muni stop with the same thoughts running through my mind and the same desire to just have my day progress as uneventfully as possible. In other words, I did what I normally do.

And in doing so, I walked right past the four people in the picture above who were making some of the most incredible music.

But then.

Muni broke down. The mall closed. My iPod died. And the string quartet started playing the best five minutes of music Bach ever composed. All in the span of seconds. And suddenly I had a second chance to experience something so marvelous and something so clearly meant for me. Suddenly I was left with no other choice but to stop. To sit. To revel. To hear the beauty echoing all around, swelling and subsiding, bouncing its way off the walls of the station seemingly straight into my soul.

To see the beauty etched on the faces of the four musicians who so clearly and passionately loved their craft.

To feel the beauty of time slipping away, piece by piece, measure by measure, note by note.

To recognize the beauty and the significance of this single moment.

And to notice- really notice- how amazing beauty can be.

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Now playing: J.S. Bach – Air

There’s Magic Inside.

Ezra Shaw- Getty Images

Moments like this are why I love baseball.

Sublime.

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Now playing: Tony Bennett – I Left My Heart In San Francisco
via FoxyTunes

Long time no see.

Is the sky always this color at this particular point of the night? If not… well, it is tonight. I’m glad I’m getting to see it.

It’s 1:45 AM. I’m outside on my balcony with my headphones on and my laptop out. I had to come outside because I glanced out the window and it doesn’t look like it’s 1:45 AM right now. And (now that I’m out here I am aware of this) also because I haven’t done this in ages.

I used to love coming out to this balcony. I would sit in this exact spot I am sitting now, watching planes take off and land as the sky changed from a vivid blue to orange to navy to black. Looking down at the streets below and the cars slowly making their way by. It was a place where I could be away from other people for just a moment, away from the noise life always seems to drag around with it, away from pretty much everything of inconvenience to my high school self. It was just me and the trees that kept me company on top of the world.

I would write here. Think here. Ponder things (haha). It wasn’t always easy, since depending on the day the view would leave me equal parts dumbstruck and inspired. It’s actually a little surprising, how even a fixed landscape can stimulate such a radical spectrum of unrelated ideas. How I’d be observing essentially the same things from one day to the next (same houses, same airport, same trees, same sky), yet I’d be led down different avenues of thought than I’d wandered down the day before.

It really has been a while since I’ve last been out here, and I just realized that it’s something I hadn’t even missed doing until just a few seconds ago. At the same time, though, I’m glad I was able to unexpectedly rediscover something once treasured but somehow forgotten. Guess I just needed to be reminded to look out the window more often.

I mean, it’s nice sharing these kinds of things- thoughts, moments- with other people. But it’s pretty neat (once in a while, at least) knowing that nobody else in the world is seeing this exact same thing right now at this exact moment in time. Living life surrounded by other people, doing and saying and seeing the same things… it’s not often I can say that.

Tonight I can.

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Now playing: Allie Moss- Passerby
via FoxyTunes

A writer, an apartment in NYC, three kids and a BMW,

My class notes from Tuesday:

Yeah, I totally played MASH for the first time since middle school with my discussion partner Miriam instead of learning what conflict perspectives are.

…and yeah, I totally cheated. After figuring out the system (in like, third grade), it was simply a matter of knowing where to place my prospects and picking the right lucky number so I can get what I want.

Hey, there’s nothing wrong with adjusting the odds a little to get my happy ending, right?

If only real life were so easy.

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Now playing: Zion I – Act Right
via FoxyTunes