"Empty me of me so I can be filled with You."

For those of you who didn't know already, this past fall has seen me continue to remain on staff at Camp Highland, though some of my responsibilities have changed.  As the majority of our full time staff have been trickling out to take on new jobs and roles in life, the interns have had to step up and fill in the gaps left behind.  While this was intimidating at first, it has served to grow us and is continuing to do so in ways we could not have expected.

As a first step toward establishing a tight-knit unit between us, our boss recommended that we read The Dude's Guide to Manhood: Finding True Manliness in a World of Counterfeits, by Darrin Patrick.  To be honest, I was skeptical about it.  Any book that claims to have the answer to such a broad topic as manliness or success is written from a narrow minded perspective that believes that what works for one person should work for everyone else.  At least, that's the bias I hold toward those types of books, whether it's well-founded or not.  The fact that the cover of such a book shows a face with a long, unkempt beard and hipster glasses did little to change that bias.  In fact, it only discouraged me more from reading it.  Why would a scrawny college graduate who still looks like a teenager, who is working at a camp instead of in the typical professional world, who cringes at the click bait titles of every social media trend, want to read a book that tells him how to look and act in order to resemble an image that modern society believes to be "manly"?  Why read about how to be something you can't be?

Regardless of my feelings about the book's title and cover, which I think were common among the five of us, we began reading about a month ago.  Thankfully, the second and third chapters proved to be fairly instructive and useful.  In Chapter Two, Mr. Patrick writes about the obstacles that stands in the way of so many men seeking maturity, the most destructive of which is pride.  Humility is a necessary attribute of a godly man because it was one of the most well-recognized traits seen in Jesus.  He was called meek, meaning that He had power and every right to take pride in Himself, yet He denied Himself that right and put others before Himself instead.  He lowered Himself in order to raise others up (Romans 12:10, James 4:10, Philippians 2:5-8).  When a man, striving to show his significance, refuses help or instruction because he believes it makes him seem incompetent, he allows pride to keep him from attaining the fullness of life and godliness that God has made available to Him.

I think that's where I am right now.  That's why my posts have been so infrequent: I want to be able to work through my problems independently to show that I'm capable of succeeding and that I can be a valuable member of a team as a result.  But the irony is that I'm trying to be an independent member of a team, which nullifies the importance of teamwork.  If I only ask questions I already know the answers to, why ask them?  Am I really growing then?  Mr. Patrick writes that a father's job is to recognize potential in his child that the child may not be able to see in him- or herself, and then draw it out of him or her through instruction, discipline, and encouragement.  I want to be independent, and as a result, I hinder myself from tapping into hidden potential that may be allowed to emerge if I would only seek guidance to identify and foster it.  It strikes me now that that might be why I am so repulsed by books with simple answers to complicated questions: I want to believe there's more to the answer that I can find on my own without someone oversimplifying it for me.  So maybe that's why I'm reading this book: to humble myself and be willing to ask questions I don't know the answer to, to be taught what I didn't know I needed to learn.

I finished reading Chapter Four today, and it has raised some uncomfortable questions for me.  For the last year and a half, I have struggled to choose between continuing on my path toward becoming a band director and diverting from it to remain at Camp Highland a little longer.  Toward the middle of this fall was the first time I had felt any kind of peace about staying at camp, so I have been there since then.  The peace came from knowing that God intends for me to continue with music but that He has more to teach me through camp until He presents an opportunity for me to enter the music education field.  What set me on edge while reading, though, was that I felt as if I fell into one or more of Patrick's categories of discontented working men.  The author's directive to quit your less-than-satisfying job and find your calling was offensive to me because, even though I know God has much more planned for me later on down the road, I love what I do where He has me right now.  What I don't love is the way my attitudes and reactions have been changing these past few months.  My impatience and frustration under duress get the best of me much more frequently, and my incompetencies seem to be highlighted to my eyes.  Criticism falls on easily offended ears, and exhortation extinguishes what little motivation I already had.  And I hate that this is what's surfacing in me now.  What about that "potential" my heavenly Father is supposed to be drawing out of me?  My time at camp seems to be having the opposite effect on me.  And I'm frustrated.

But Mr. Patrick helped me arrive at a resolution that was a core reason for why I am still at camp but which I seemed to have forgotten in the midst of my discontentment: "[Your] less-than-perfect job is helping hone your passions.  It is shoring up weaknesses in your skill set and helping you overcome deficiencies in your character."  A lesson God has been bringing to my mind for a few years now is this: In order for Him to meet a need, there first has to be a need.  Since I committed my life to the Lord, I have felt disconnected from anyone who speaks of our depravity.  I have spoken of it myself, and I have always felt hypocritical about it because, though I know I am a sinful human being and can identify sins I have committed, I have never really felt the crushing weight of my guilt or understood what it meant to grieve for my sins.  But I think this period of darkness is God showing me just how ungodly and rebellious I am capable of being so that I can truly understand how desperately I need Him.  I need His forgiveness, and I need His righteousness to grow within me and throughout.  I am impatient, I am easily offended, I am not all-sufficient though I long to be able to be, I am lustful, I am prideful, I am cynical, I am short-tempered, I wear many masks to hide who I really am; and I hate it.  I need Jesus.  God caught my attention six years ago by romancing me with His infinite wisdom and glory and the joy that comes from worshiping Him through music.  I was overwhelmed with a longing to be filled with His Word and His Presence.  Now I am overwhelmed with a longing to be emptied of everything that is contrary to Him.  I pray that the holiness of Christ will flush out the sin in me and bring all my darkness to light so that I can be a faithful ambassador and courier of the Gospel of sanctification and redemption.  And I pray, as I look ahead to my future as a music educator, that I would not live so entangled in dreams of the future that I forgot about the present, but that I would embrace every obstacle and lesson as an opportunity for growth and service to the Lord that will allow me to advance His Kingdom now and in the future the next time similar obstacles arise.

Romans 12:2

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect."

I feel like I'm in the middle of a whirlpool of decisions to make.  Thankfully, it's a whirlpool of Living Water, so I'm being filled up as I'm being taken under, eventually to be spit out on the other side of the decision-making process.  The last couple of weeks have been full of growth, with God speaking into me more than I've heard from Him in a while.

It started with the softening of my heart at the Father/Son retreat at Camp Highland.  I had the fourth and fifth grade boys for the weekend, which was entertaining and stretching at the same time.  Other than my few days volunteering at Day Camp over the summer, which hosts children from age 5 to 10, these were the youngest kids I had been a counselor for in two years.  The newness and simplicity of their faith was refreshing, but the depth of their understanding of the stories of the Bible was incredible.  And the childlike faith that caused a ten-year-old boy to only be able to whisper, "Wow," in awe at the fact that God offers to us the same love and forgiveness Jesus offered to the repentant criminal crucified beside Him...  It causes me to react the same way: I can only whisper, "Wow," and tell and retell the story of God's faithfulness, because that same boy and his twin brother accepted/reaffirmed their faith in Christ that weekend because they wanted to know for sure that the Holy Spirit was inside of them and helping them to live for Jesus.  Hearing the fathers give their blessings to their sons the next morning was the icing on the cake.  Not a dry eye left camp that day.

Father/Daughter was the following weekend, which was just as powerful but far less involved for the male staff.  It was a restful weekend, despite one sleepless night of thinking.  As I keep coming back to camp, I'm continually reminded of just how much campers and their families impact me.  The resulting change in my life because of them is far greater than anything I can offer them, and I'm grateful for the way God has used Camp Highland to shape me for the life He has planned for me.

And that's the journey I started to search out that sleepless night.  A brief conversation with Mr. Chapman, camp's founder, set the wheels turning in my mind considering the possibility that maybe God brought me to camp in the first place so that He could keep me here.  My gut feeling has always been that teaching music is meant to be my ministry field and that Camp Highland is a great way to continue in ministry until God reveals my destination.  That night two weekends ago was the first time I had seriously questioned if I knew even the category of my destination.

I started reconsidering my passions.  That sounds bad, like I started to doubt how much I love teaching music, but that's not what happened.  It wasn't until I student taught that I began to feel comfortable teaching large band classes.  Up until then, I felt far more comfortable teaching private lessons and running sectionals and small group Bible studies.  All through high school, I wished I could make a living off of teaching trumpet lessons.  Mentorship was my passion rather than teaching.  Being a camp counselor affirmed that passion.  But somewhere along the way in college, I had convinced myself that mentorship alone was not an option.  To fall back on private lessons would mean that I had failed to make it as a teacher.  But in reconsidering my passions, I began to see how my perception of mentorship had changed and how my philosophy had shifted to favor large group teaching.  That sleepless night re-emphasized to me the value of mentorship alongside teaching.

After reaching that conclusion, I thought, "Great!  That means that if I were to stay at camp, I could keep serving how I'm serving now, and I could teach lessons and work some high school band camps, and I wouldn't be abandoning my passions."  As I prayed about it and longed for that to be God's will for me, the Lord began to let loose on me every piece of wisdom I need to be able to navigate this crossroad faithfully.

He started by leading me to Ephesians, which I'm still walking through today.  Ephesians 1:9 has been a refuge for me in this decision-making process.  In it, Paul mentions "the mystery of [God's] will."  How reassuring to know, in the midst of all this uncertainty, that God's will is indeed a mystery!  Paul goes on to say in 2:14 that "He Himself is our peace," which made me realize that I have been seeking peace in knowing what God's will is for me instead of seeking peace in knowing God Himself.  These words gave me a lot of comfort in knowing that I have no need to worry about where God is taking me.  He'll show me that in His own time.  I still need to be watchful and ready for when He does open a door for me, but I also need to be fully invested in what He's doing in and through me right now.  Jeremiah 17:7-10 supported that realization when the prophet said that the man who trusts in the Lord continues to bear fruit even during a drought.  Though I'm in an in-between stage right now, God has been faithful to continue producing results for the expansion of His kingdom while I've been at camp and in my other undertakings in the past year.

But when I identified this past year as an in-between stage, I realized that I needed to reevaluate my heart again.  I considered the benefits of remaining at camp and the benefits of continuing to pursue music, and it seems that my passion for teaching music still has a hold on me and won't let go.  I got to meet with Breyer from TNT at Hillside, and he shared some valuable wisdom with me that helped me in a way similar to how Ephesians 1:9 comforted me: it didn't make the decision any more clear, but it gave me peace about how to go about making my choice in a way that honors Christ.  Breyer recently went through a life-changing prayer journey as well, and hearing his testimony of faithful response to God's call to get up, move, and start a church plant was inspiring and made me think of Abraham and his faith.  In contrast, I feel like Moses, hesitant, doubting my own abilities and readiness for God's mission, unable to trust fully that it's God who works in me to accomplish all things and that I can't do anything apart from Him and He doesn't ask me to.

He's humbling me.  A while back, I read Philippians 4:12, where Paul said that he knew how to be brought low.  In response, I prayed that God would teach me how to be brought low—how to be humble and how to be faithfully and patiently humbled/humiliated—for His glory.  I think this is His process.  I still have not reached any definite conclusions on what decision to make, but I feel more content with where I am than I've been able to feel in a long time.  The path I see at this point is one that has me remaining at camp for a little while longer, just long enough to mature in perseverance until God opens the door for me to pursue ministry through music education.  Whether this whirlpool of decisions changes the direction of my life or not, God is using this time to teach me far more than I've been able or even willing to hear from Him, and I'm thankful for the ways He is growing me, through prayer, through His Word, in worship, and through wise counsel from experienced mentors.  He is transforming me by the renewal of my mind to be able to discern His will. Colossians 4:2 and Isaiah 62:6-7 are my mission now: to continue steadfastly in prayer and give God no rest, just as I have begun to pray about the decisions God has put before me, and to see this work of growth and maturing through to the end.

Take No Rest

Isaiah's exhortation to the watchmen on Israel's walls resonates deeply with today's American culture of working tirelessly to achieve success for oneself.  Even the Christian seeking to glorify God rather than himself tends to live by the words "take no rest" from Isaiah 62:6.  But we often take this verse out of context.  At least, I know I do.  If we would only continue reading in verse 7, we would see that Isaiah says to "give [the Lord] no rest until He establishes Jerusalem and makes it a praise in the earth."  Alone, verse 6 seems to be a contradiction to the commandment that we are to take Sabbath rest regularly.  But God doesn't tell us to work endlessly.  In fact, what He does tell us to do without ceasing is pray, give thanks, and be joyful (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).

I often find myself disgruntled because of the work that, in my mind, has been left to me, although it is usually work that can wait and that can easily be delegated at a more appropriate time.  I end up doing unnecessary work, which steals away my time for rest or more meaningful work.  I convince myself time and time again that the work that is left to me must be done, and things will fall apart if I fail to do my part—and "my part" is ever growing as I take on these self-imposed responsibilities.

Then one day, God gave me a wake-up call: "You are not God."

The world will not fall apart without me.  I am not the one holding the universe in his nail-pierced hands.  Two years ago, the Lord urged me to learn to "embrace the fade," a lesson to which He is recalling my attention in more ways than one, but that's a topic for another time.  The Lord is the one who works in me with all His energy, and He has no need of rest.  But I do.  I just finished reading a book by Louie Giglio entitled I am not, but I know I AM, the entire premise of which is that we are not God—if God's name is I AM, then my name is "I AM not."  He is God, I am "not God."

What a comfort to know that I am not God and don't have to try to be!  In my failures, life goes on.  God is capable in my weakness and in my absence.  Knowing this, He has decreed for me a regular time of rest called the Sabbath.  But Sabbath rest does not have to be relegated to a single day each week.  There is Sabbath rest to be had whenever my work ends and God's work carries on.  The Lord supplies my energy, yet even He demands that I break from my work in order to rest in His.  Good works have their proper time, as does holy rest.  To continue working in a time intended for rest is to say, "God, I know You have work to do, and I'm sorry to hold You up, but I'm not done with my work yet.  Let me finish up so that You can do what You need to."  As if my incomplete work could impede God's work in the slightest!  I need to remember who I am, and also who I AM not.

With this in mind, Isaiah 62 deserves to be revisited.  The key phrase is not, "take no rest," but rather, "give Him no rest."  We are only participants in God's work, which goes on even without us.  Rest is essential for life, and Sabbath rest is essential for eternal life, and God will not contradict His commands.  The way we are to "take no rest" is in our continual prayer.  While we work, we lift up our prayers through our work by striving toward what we ask, aligning our hearts and our actions with God's will.  Our "work" in Sabbath rest is to affirm the Lord's work through prayer and to trust that His grace is sufficient to accomplish all things in my absence.

I am still tempted to deny myself rest and to continue to work out of a sense of sovereign need, but I pray that He will teach me to take rest in His work and to devote myself to prayer as my tireless work (Colossians 4:2).

Names

About a year ago, while reflecting on my summer at Camp Highland, my devotions led me to John 13, when Jesus washed the feet of His disciples.  When He came to Peter, the headstrong disciple refused to be served by his Master, insisting that he should be serving his Lord instead.  Once Jesus explained the purpose of His service to His disciples, Peter immediately repented and asked that Jesus clean him completely, not only his feet.  As I thought on this, God directed me to realize that I am often like Peter in the way I seek to serve and not be served.

Moses was similarly disillusioned.  Though referred to as the most humble man on the face of the earth (Numbers 12:3), Moses showed arrogance just as Peter did and just as I do so often.  When he witnessed one of his Hebrew brethren being beaten by an Egyptian, Moses killed the Egyptian to protect his fellow Israelite (Exodus 2:11-12).  Moses judged the Egyptian for his sin, and in an attempt to take the place of God, he dealt out what he imagined was justice.  Again, when he struck the rock in anger to bring forth water in the desert, Moses strayed from the command of the Lord and spoke as if he himself were producing the water for the Israelites (Number 20:10-12).  Twice, the most humble man on earth tried to issue judgment in place of God.

To this man, God chose to show Himself and reveal His Name.  In order to remind Moses that there is only one true God, and it is not him, the Lord called Moses to an impossible task and walked with him to bring success.  The Lord also shared His name with Moses: I AM THAT I AM.  Louie Giglio writes that this revelation of who God is is also a reminder of who we are, or rather, of who we are not.  If God's name is "I AM," then our name must be "I am not" (I am not, but I know I AM, Giglio).  This was meant to free Moses from the burden of being the savior of his people.  No man should have to bear that burden.  Only Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was able to carry His identity as God and His purpose as the Savior of humanity with complete humility.

Now, Jesus came to serve, not to be served.  That purpose was meant for Jesus alone.  Just as God's name "I AM" points out that our name is "I am not," my name, Michael, means "who is like God," which reminds me that there is no one like God who is without need.  Though I try to serve everyone in every way as often as I can, it is not my place to refuse service from others.  By doing so, I claim to be all-sufficient, just as Moses claimed God's judgment seat.  I've found that I've been repeatedly putting myself in the place of God, whether by refusing to receive service or by ignoring advice because I believe I already possess the necessary wisdom, which Romans 12:16 so clearly warns against.

Names often create a platform from which to praise God.  Michael is a reminder that the Lord is incomparably great.  Hanani is a reminder of God's grace toward us.  But similarly, names also serve to convict us when we forget our identities in relation to the Lord.  When I believe I am self-sufficient, Hanani reminds me that all I have is because of God's grace, by which He has given me all I need.  When I believe I am like God, Michael reminds me that "I am not," and that none can compare to Him.  Anything in me that reflects God is only because Christ dwells in me.

To combat my pride, like Moses, I need to remember that the Lord is I AM, and my name is "I am not."  Knowing that "I don't have what they need" sets me free to serve joyfully, and knowing that I don't have what I need allows me to humbly receive service rather than refuse it.

Do it again!

Back in the winter I was reading a book called Orthodoxy, by G.K. Chesterton.  As you might guess from the title, it took a slow start at the beginning, opening with some dry, complex thoughts.  But eventually the material started to pick up momentum as the ideas communicated began to generate excitement and motivation to reform.  I don't have the book on hand, but what is probably my favorite revelation from Mr. Chesterton's journey to rediscover orthodoxy in his faith was this:  Repetition is not necessarily stagnation.  This has been a recurring lesson to me for years now, and it seems like I keep coming back to it because it never quite gets all the way through to me.

Chesterton illustrates this idea in this way: Adults and older youth often grow bored with activities quickly.  There must always be a sense of novelty in order for a thing to be of interest.  There must always be a sense of forward motion.  An infant or young child, on the other hand, will often say, "Do it again!" whenever he finds a phenomenon entertaining, and he will not cease to repeat the phrase until he is sufficiently satisfied.

Take, for example, a circle and a spiral as another analogy.  In education, we refer to what is called "spiral curriculum," in which one will return to familiar material in order to address new levels of the subject.  For example, one may learn that multiplication is like adding multiple times (2x4 is like 2+2+2+2), then later return to learn the multiplication tables, then later return to learn how to multiply multi-digit factors, then later return to introduce variables as possible factors and products.  In education, we see the spiral as the model for progress.  So what about the circle then?  Would that be a symbol of stagnation?  What if we took the circle and changed our perspective so that it became not a two-dimensional geometric shape, but a wheel.  It is a wheel, not a spiral, that allows a vehicle to move forward.  The one who is content to remain in the same place relative to the body for an extended period of time, will find that he has made significant progress for himself and for the whole body, though he remains attached to the same axle.

Time and time again God has brought me back to this idea of sitting at His feet and resting in the truth, waiting for His teachings on a particular subject to sink in before moving on to anything new.  But I can never sit still.  Metaphorically.  I always have to get up and move around.  I have to be constantly learning something new, or else I feel like I'm not progressing.  I can't just be content to hear the same thing taught to me over and over again until it gets through to me... because I often feel like I already know what He's trying to tell me.  I've heard it all before.  Or so I think.  And I don't hear Him through.

Chesterton idealizes the image of a child laughing and urging his entertainer to "do it again" by putting the lens up against the Creation.  The sun rises each morning because God says, "Do it again," not out of monotony but out of pleasure at seeing His creation do what it was made to do.  The flowers of the field are so very similar not because God found the job of creation so dull that He simply used a mold to ease the process of duplication, but rather because He found a single flower so appealing that He said, "Do it again!  Make another.  That one is good too.  Make another.  And another."

Tomorrow, God will tell the sun to rise again, and He will see that it is good.  And when the sun rises, He will tell me to get up and do it again, to lay myself down at His feet, to die to myself, and to rise again in Christ to live for Him.  And He will see that it is very good, and He will be pleased with me.  I say that not out of arrogance and pride, expecting to be a pleasing offering to God, but out of hope in Christ.  When Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River, the Holy Spirit anointed Him in the appearance of a dove, and the Father's voice came from heaven, saying, "This is My Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased" (Matthew 3:17).  He did not say, "With His work I am well pleased."  Jesus had not begun His recorded ministry yet.  As far as we see in Scripture, Jesus had not yet done anything that would merit a declaration of God's pleasure in Him.  Yet we hear that God said, "In Him I am well pleased."  This was said that we might see that it is not in our works that our Father takes delight, but in our being.  That's it.  The mere fact that we exist.  And that we choose Him, because of course, we are corrupted by sin, and that's not good; but the forgiveness we have in His Son redeems us so that He can look at us and say, "It is good.  In you I am well pleased."

The last few days, I have felt discouraged because I feel that I am not leading anyone when I could be leading kids at Camp Highland.  So as I was praying and having some quiet time, I started looking for encouragement.  I have a funny habit of kind of silently preaching to myself sometimes.  Not really praying, and not really talking to myself, but more like preaching to a congregation with myself as the only member.  As I was doing this, my mind began to form the words of encouragement, "God is pleased with me.  He is pleased with my work."  Then I had to stop myself.  What have I done to please God?  Are my works what save me?  Is that what makes God look at me and find me holy and innocent?  No.  He is pleased with me.  Just the fact that I am me.  I am who He made me to be.  Just as the sun performs its duty in accordance with its identity, so I am pleasing to God by being myself and fulfilling the purpose God has given me in this moment in time.

He is pleased with me.  So I will do it again!

Hutututu

We call it the most holy game of Camp Highland.  It is the game at camp.  To remove it from Camp Highland would cause us to cease being Camp Highland.  It is a way of life.

That may be an exaggeration, but there is no doubt that Hutututu is Camp Highland's most favored tribal game, with ultimate frisbee being its closest competitor among the staff.  And as with anything, there are countless lessons that can be taken away from the game.  During our staff training one day, we read the stories of Samuel and David facing the Philistines in 1 Samuel 7 and 17, and I was struck by the reflection of Hutututu in the story of David facing Goliath.

In Hutututu, one person crosses from his side to enter the territory of the opposing tribe, chanting, "Hutututu," repeatedly in a single breath.  His goal is to tag as many people as possible and cross back over to his tribal territory before taking another breath.  The opposing tribe's objective is to avoid being tagged and to keep the invader from escaping back to his side.  Often one defender will latch onto the attacker, and the rest of the defending tribe will swarm to his aid to hold back the attacker until he runs out of breath.  This is the picture we see in the story of David and Goliath.

In the battle of the Israelites versus the Philistines, one mighty warrior named Goliath stepped forward to challenge the opposition, shouting out threats to any who might dare to step forward against him.  Then David, one bold enough to accept the challenge, came forward and faced the menacing giant.  David struck Goliath with a stone and brought him to his end, as in Hutututu one might grapple with an attacker to hold him back.  When Goliath had been defeated, the Israelite troops rallied to conquer the remainder of the Philistine army, just as one's tribe would rally to his aid as he fights to hold back an invader.

This picture of battle gives us a model for how we ought to pray.  The Apostle Paul has much to say on the topic of prayer, often speaking of his own prayers for the Church and asking for prayer from the Church.  In Philippians 4:6, we are called to not only pray to the Lord but also to petition the Lord, or intercede with the Lord, for our own needs and for the needs of others.  When we pray, we speak individually with God.  When we petition, we call upon the body of believers to pray in agreement with us.  In Colossians 4:2, we are urged, "Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful."  When David stood up to Goliath and the Israelites saw his triumph, I imagine that they were watching closely to see the results and that they were thankful when the Lord brought victory through the bold young shepherd.  As soon as Goliath fell, I envision the Israelites watching in awe as David stepped forward to seize the giant's sword, all hands gravitating toward their own weapons as the blade swung down to sever the glory of the Philistine champion from his people.  Likewise, we are to be watchful and thankful in prayer, staying alert to recognize the needs of others (Ephesians 6:18), giving thanks for the first signs of victory and immediately jumping to usher in total triumph as soon as a foothold has been gained.  Jesus says in Matthew 11:12, "From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it."  E.M. Bounds asserts in his book The Essentials of Prayer, "The present ground we occupy must be held by making advances, and all the future must be covered and brightened by it."  Many battles have been won so far this summer, and now it is time to celebrate in the Lord's triumph and to welcome Him to come and bring the completion of His victory.  Even better is yet to come.  Pray with me, and allow me to pray with you too.  Come quickly, Lord (Revelation 22:20).

Silence Above the Noise

God has provided me with a unique opportunity through my time at Camp Highland this year.  Having just graduated from UGA back in May, I am currently searching for a job as a music educator; however, I felt that the Lord was calling me to return to serve at camp again this summer, which put a temporary halt on the job hunt.  So to compromise, I remained at camp only for the first half of the summer, and now I am back at home to resume my search.  At this point, there are no prospects, but the Lord has opened up the option of joining the full time staff at Camp Highland starting in the fall.  I don't know if that is what He has chosen as my path or if it's just my desire to do what's easiest, so I still have a lot of praying to do, and I would appreciate your prayers on the matter as well.

Anyway, back to my original point, because I am now at home only halfway through the summer, my time at camp is still fresh in my mind.  And in my journal.  I was going back through my notes from the summer, and God brought me across several lessons He had introduced to me earlier and which are still very powerful and relevant now.  So I am going to try to post some of the things He has been teaching me so far this summer.

One day during staff training, it was raining pretty hard during our Time Alone with God (TAG)—well, it rained several days during staff training, but God spoke through it this one particular morning.  I am just going to record what I wrote that morning.

"We are having TAG time under a pavilion in the rain.  The sound of water hitting the tin roof is roaring all around us, but our silence in communing with God is louder than the storm.  When we were being briefed for today's TAG, I could barely hear the instructions.  Now the roar of the rain has become louder and more awesome, but we are kept dry by the roof over our heads, and we continue to listen for Your voice.
In the storms of my life, I need to learn to sit and rest in Your shelter.  Too often I stand and wander around in Your presence, complaining about the rain that keeps me from going out.  But that is the purpose of the shelter in the storm: to keep us in Your presence and in the path of Your commands when everything around me will leave stains.  I want to go out into the world and take on Satan's armies, but Your shelter lets me know that here is where You want me."

We have a pretty loud and talkative staff this year (not necessarily a bad thing—we love community), which has also been reflected in our campers each week.  So for all 50-60 of us to be sitting silently under a single pavilion in the pouring rain was incredible.  The silence was powerful and almost tangible, despite the roar of the rain.  There's a lot of life's noise roaring all around me right now, and I often to contribute to it with my doubts and worry and my need to be active.  But the Lord reminds me that stillness is not inactivity but holy rest.  I need to remember to make time to draw back and be quiet and wait on God.  This will give me the rest I need to regain my strength and energy for when the time comes to be active.