Optional mandatory.

In high school, we used to occasionally have basketball practices that could not, due to high school basketball rules, be called mandatory. So, the simple solution to that for the coach? Call them optional, and let it be known with some subtle hints (large intimidating smiles) and not-so-subtle hints ("Soooo, you guys should be at practice...if you're smart") that the practices were necessary if you wanted to play an integral part on the team. We called this clever strategy "optional mandatory ." However, even though I wasn't always the most enthusiastic about going into those practices, I knew that I needed to be there to both improve and be a big part of the team's success. Additionally, the practices were simply necessary in getting us ready for the upcoming games and making us better.

God's been doing that same thing with my views on poverty, serving others, and what Jesus calls me to do on this planet. I always kind of knew that working with the poor was something I should probably do, but I never had a solidified idea of what "seeking justice" (Isaiah 1:17) actually meant (How much work did that require? Who does that include? Can I do that after med school?). I mean, do I really have to do that, though? After all, some of that seeking justice stuff is pretty difficult and uncomfortable. Over the past few years, though, God has been the best coach of all time, making me realize that if I really want to be a key part of the team and love Him more, I don't have much of a choice. Loving more of the poor, the widows, and the refugees and loving less of comfort and my personal bubble is to be my goal, which just so happens to be Jesus' goal. Convenient, huh?

The idea started in Ethiopia three summers ago and it has been stirring in me ever since. The idea that a love of Christ breeds a love of serving others and caring for those who are rarely cared for. The idea that what God considers a pure and faultless religious attitude includes looking after orphan and widow in their distress (James 1:27).

The idea that the American Dream is the rest of the world's nightmare. And God isn't okay with that.

And that idea is scary. That idea makes me uncomfortable. That idea has an impact on everything: the way I use my money, the way I view my future career, the woman I marry, where I live, and how I see people who are very different than I am. That idea leaves a nervous, excited feeling in my stomach...much like at the top of a wonderful rollercoaster. So what do I call God's command to serve the poor and love the unloved, wherever I am in life?

Optional mandatory.

Sure, I could go about my business, tossing a couple of dollars at the homeless man on the corner...but failing to learn his story. I could pray that God sends others to work in the inner cities and improve conditions, knowing full well that God is calling me. But really? I can't. If I'm actually learning from the Bible, I can't turn away from the person who just lost their home, their spouse, or parents. I can't ignore those who are hungry and in need, whether that be the person on 1st Avenue or the person across the street.

I pray that if the time ever comes where I'm satisfied with keeping the poor, widowed, orphaned, etc. at arm's length, God robs my back pocket, kicks me out of my home, and puts me in their shoes anyways.

Diversity and Doritos: CityLights, Part 1

Multiethnic community is like Cool Ranch Doritos: Once you get a taste...you can't really help yourself from wanting more and more. Except multiethnic community is waaaaaaaaay healthier.

That's one of the many conclusions I've drawn from my week in St. Louis for the CityLights Spring Break with InterVarsity.

As many of you probably know, I grew up in rural Iowa, where awards for ethnic diversity don't exactly get hung in the town hall trophy case. The most unique ethnic example for my home region was the large population of Hispanics in Storm Lake, Iowa, but frankly, that wasn't ever looked upon favorably by many people. It was usually talk revolving around the jobs that were being lost to Hispanics. Rural Iowa certainly wasn't holding any Hispanic Celebration Day parades, not necessarily because of racism, but because there was a lack of exposure to any of it. I only knew about 5 people who came from significantly different background than I or had significantly darker skin than I did (which is saying something, because I would describe myself as "pasty white"). For me, diversity was something that I was all for, because I thought it was nice...but it was never necessary; if it happened, it happened. To keep the metaphor of Doritos going, I grew up in a Saltines world: white and fairly bland, but that's all I ate and grew up knowing.

Until this past week. I've been to Ethiopia and Egypt, and have seen the diverse and wonderful culture that both of those countries have; however, I've never seen a variety of cultures truly mixed in American culture. So, when I saw what New City Fellowship church was doing and experienced the power of different races and cultures actually living in community together, I was blown away. So many things that I had only talked or heard about before began to become much more real for me.

--I went to a church service that used Spanish, English, Swahili, and Hebrew songs during the worship, which preceded a talk by a Kenyan man, a Caucasian pastor who had just returned from Pakistan, and a sermon by an African American pastor. At the end of the service, we broke bread together: white, black, and every shade in between.

--I had lunch with Ameen, a friendly Pakistani man who jokingly called himself the "slumlord", who owned an apartment complex, and had a heart for improving the community. When he bought the complex, the 911 calls in the surrounding blocks were about 300 calls a month; now, it's about 3 or 4, largely due to his enforcement of a drug-free environment, even at the risk of losing important money. Last year, there was a 15-year-old Eritrean refugee gunned down in front of Ameen's apartments--the same apartments that we walked around and seeded with grass on Monday--and yet Ameen continues to fight for a better neighborhood. His smile and hospitality makes me want the same. Oh, and the lunch his wife made was a homemade Pakistani dish. Delicious.

--I had a conversation with a former member of the Crips, who talked with us about how much his life had changed in the past several years as he had begun to get involved with New City Church as a maintenance worker. He talked extensively about his life on the street, lessons he had learned, and the process that God was bringing him through. He talked about raising his 6 kids with a strained relationship with his children's mother and the difficulties with that, but honestly acknowledged both his sin and Jesus' power over it. In the span of about 5 hours, I learned more about urban city living than I could have in any sociology or anthropology class.

--Beautiful. That's how I would describe several families in the church that we were able to meet during the week. Adopted, biological, white, black--all sorts of children, all part of the same family. Sure, they acted like a normal family (I saw one sister get accidentally Chuck Norris roundhouse-kicked in the face at one point by a younger brother in a wrestling match), but that's why it was so amazing. Neither the skin color or the family tree of the child made a difference; love trumped all of it. In a conversation with Micah, a father of one of the main families we interacted with who had 8 children (a variety adopted/biological/black/white), I asked him of the challenges of adoption, especially that of kids with various ethnicities. His response was perfect; he explained that sometimes it was more challenging with adopted kids, because in a certain way, they are different than biological kids. However, he said, that's where God's grace comes in. "When you look at it, God adopted us into His family in a more powerful than even human adoption, with all our sin and crap. But at no point does He regret his decision to adopt us, nor does He say 'I give up on this kid. And neither can I'". Wow.

Enter the metaphor: Doritos and diversity.

When I looked around me, I felt like this is the way that God meant it to be. In Revelations 5, it talks about every tribe, tongue, people, and nation worshiping and living together in unity. Jesus, a Jew, reached out to the "unclean" Samaritan woman. The Acts churches reached out to orphans and widows, and strived for racial reconciliation. Multiethnic community is not simply nice, it's necessary.

But it's hard. As Jerry, the CityLights director said, "Our church, though authentic, is messy. Reconciliation is needed all the time," but he continued, "but it's a community that I think (and I say this humbly) that you will find that you wish to be a part of."

And I do. I don't know how exactly yet, but I know that if God can show me the blessings of a community like that in a week, I look forward to what he can do with more than a Spring Break. So for now, I'm left wanting more, waiting to see how God calls me to serve the immigrants, the refugees, the ethnicities that are different I, and the widows.

Crazy Love.

Check this video out...

Oh Child --Nevertheless

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnyE6Cx6X0I

So, it's been awhile, so I'll try to write something for you that will brighten your day.

God's love.

No, but seriously. Stop. Look at the previous line. Think about it for 3o seconds. What does that mean to you? Whether you're a Christian or not, what do you think of that?

I started writing a really long blog about Job...I'll use it later, but I felt like this is what I needed to get off my chest. A couple days ago on a 4 hour trip back from Omaha to Cedar Rapids, I shut off my car's CD player, which is a big deal...because I'm kind of frightened by too much silence (that'll be a whole other blog post someday). But the things I was reminded of were amazing. I'm finishing up Francis Chan's Crazy Love, which challenges me, makes me uncomfortable in many ways, but most importantly, helps me to remember how much God loves me.

When it comes to God's promises and love, I have the memory of...well, something with a really short memory. God could drop a 10,000 rose bouquet outside of my apartment that says "Brendan, I love you. A lot. Don't forget. XOXO God." I'd probably be in shock, but after the warm fuzzies wore off the next day and I did something wrong or stupid, I'd question whether God could possibly love me. Then God would drop a ginormous, 3-ton stuffed teddy bear in front of me on my way to class. "Brendan, seriously. I love you. I'm not kidding. XOXO." Then I'd repeat the cycle.

I wish I was kidding.

I think that's why I was so amazed as I drove in my car and started thinking. This whole thing, this whole life, is about love. God's crazy love for me. God's lovingly constant pursuit for me. Whether we think about it or not, God loves us. Whether we love Him back or not, He loves us. Whether we've walked to the ends of the earth just to avoid God, He loves us. When I fall flat on my face in my humanness, the God of love is reaching down with his loving hand to bring us into his loving embrace...and lovingly smile at me...God is love.

It's amazing how standard that sounds. "Yeah, I know God loves me." I think I heard a vacation Bible school song about that once..." But I can't state it any better or more exciting than that! The God of the universe is willing to have a relationship with us? Yeah...but what about all those mean things I said to my roommate about his cooking skills? What about the times that I forget to come to you daily? What about the pride I struggle with? What about my love handles and deteriorating biceps? What about that time that I doubted your ability to deliver in the clutch?

And God's response?

Shhhhhh...What about My love?

For me, I'm learning to stop and listen. It's the amazing convo I have with long-time friends. It's the family of deer that jog past me in the middle of the woods. It's the warmth in my heart when I see a toddler stumbling her way to her parents. It's the snow that falls on my nose and rests on the pine trees. It's the long-anticipated answered prayer. It's the death of His Son on a cross. It's His love.

Take it or leave it, God's love is here, there, and everywhere. As John Piper says, "God in eternity looked upon me, forseeing my faultness, my pride, my sin and said 'I want that man in my family, I will pay for him to be in my family-- with my son's life. That's Love, folks. That is mega, off-the-charts love!!!"

Really, though. Smile. God loves you. A lot.

Rejection.

I believe there are 10 stages of emotions after being put on an alternate list at one's top medical school.

1. Disappointment: Wow. Bummer.
2. Confusion: Wait, I thought I felt good about this med school?
3. Re-checking the school's email to see if the school mis-typed something (I mean, it's pretty easy to accidentally type "You got put on the much less exciting alternate-list" instead of "You have been accepted")
4. Running through the interview in slow motion in one's mind, analyzing the interviewers' faces. Was that grimace during my answer in response to his stomach pain? Or did he really not like my answer? Was the fact that he shut his eyes for an extremely long time a bad sign?
5. Doubting abilities of self: Wow, I obviously suck. I probably can't even do any of my normal activities anymore. I hope I am competent enough to drive home...
6. Doubting one's ability to dress for success: I knew I should've gone with the gold tie instead of red. Wow, I probably should just stick to pajamas the rest of my life.
7. Dispair: This med school was a perfect location, fit, and everything! Now what am I going to do?!?! I mean I should be thankful I got into another med school, but I'd rather freak out!
8. Considering throwing the problem into God's hands, then reconsidering: It's better to try really hard myself right? Otherwise it might show weakness of myself...
9. Repeat steps 1-7.
10. Finally accepting that God has a greater plan. Then giving it all to Him.

So while some of these emotions or "stages" may be a bit extreme, all of them (sadly) are ones that I've stepped through. I recently found out that I got placed on the alternate list at Des Moines University, which was my first choice for medical schools since I started to apply to places. Needless to say, I was a bit bummed. Then I went through the ten stages.

I must say, there's an amazing growth process when you get to stage 8. I think I've hit stage 8 in my life many, many times; I like to call it the "There's only one real great option here, Brendan, but you're probably going to try to do this on your own again" stage. It's amazing how God uses pain and disappointment to bring you back to Him and remind you that His plan is the ultimate one.

There are so many times I feel like I hold up my life map (which I've cleverly designed to plot out my life) to the heavens and cry out "Why?! I had my life had all planned out! It was supposed to go like this!" The response from God goes something like this:

"Wait, you mean that thing? That map is scribbled in crayon, and the only destinations you have labeled are 'College', 'Des Moines University', and 'helping people'. What you don't see are the dangers and hazards, nor do you see the wonderful blessings I have in store for you on the narrow path I want to lead you down...you didn't draw that path on your map, Brendan. " Then God laughs lovingly at how poor of an artist I am. I mean, He can...I am pretty horrible at art.

The one thing that I'm choosing to do now that I don't normally do is that I've finally decided to go to stage 10. It's only been a few days since I found out the "terrible" news, and I already feel tired and worn out from the stress of running through scenarios and trying to beat myself up about it. Did I not pray enough? What about the awesome global health program at DMU? How many questions did I screw up during the interview? What could I have done better?

At a certain point, after beating my head against the wall of rejection, which awkwardly stands between me and being at peace, I decided to grab the extended arm of Jesus, ready and willing to hoist me over that obstacle. It's just not worth it: The doubting, the insecurity, the frustration--none of it is worth my time and energy. The yoke of Jesus is easy...the yoke of Brendan weighs about as much as King Kong. Doing it on my own is like watching Jesus run up to the top of a "hill" in my life, yelling "Come on Brendan! Look at the awesome stuff I have for you...something you won't even expect!" I'm about a country mile back, at the bottom of the hill, dragging my anxieties (which in my mind looks like a ball-and-chain.) "Um, yeah...just a second!"

So, as of now, I'm tossin it up to God. I don't know if I'll get into DMU (I mean, I'll sure as heck be praying for it), but regardless, I'm shootin for being content. God has blessed me amazingly! Only one medical school? It could be zero. Not ideal? Neither is the situation that I've seen millions of people living in during my trips to Ethiopia and Egypt. Sorting garbage in Egypt for a small wage to sustain your family? That's not ideal. When I want to feel sorry for myself, this verse seems to conveniently pop into my head:"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thess. 5: 16-18

To God be the glory.

Purpose Worth Dying For.

I sure hope this blog isn't like many other endeavors I've started and moved on from, completely unfinished, mostly because I have the attention span of a squirrel after a can of energy drink. So I'm praying this works :)

Having said that, my intention for this blog is to chart and record my journey through the last few months of college and beyond: the journey of a college student, of a boy trying to become a man, of someone who is trying to make a relationship with Jesus real, relevant, and important. So, this blog will probably seem scatter-brained, discombobulated, convoluted, and confusing at times, which might be a direct reflection of the author. However, I hope it's also real. I hope it's a pick-me-up for someone who starts the day by spilling coffee down their front, gets a speeding ticket, and gets fired all in one day. I hope it's something that people can laugh at. I hope it's something that people read and walk away feeling challenged, possibly refreshed, or maybe even uneasy, but I ultimately hope this blog is a blessing to someone like me: a person simply wanting to be "after God's own heart" and daily learning what that actually looks like.

The Mark Bible study that I'm leading was looking at the first chapter, where it discusses the life (and death) of John the Baptist. What'd I take from looking at John? Jesus. From what it seemed, every part of John's life pointed to Jesus. Whether it was the locusts he was munching on or his stench due to his inclination to ignore taking a bath and instead preach the good news of Jesus, everything about him said "I am not the greatest--I am only showing you the One who is." Oh, and then he got his head chopped off. Everything he does is to roll out the red carpet for Jesus.

So I got to thinking, and it still somewhat disturbs me. Would I eat locusts and honey for Jesus? I wear rags for Jesus? Would I literally lose my head for Jesus? I'll even back down from the "extreme" questions: Would I not go to medical school if Jesus asked? If I was trapped on an island with Jesus, would that be okay? Or would I need Sportscenter in the morning and my favorite salt and vinegar Pringles in the afternoon to be happy?

It sounds silly to be trapped on an island with Jesus and not pay attention to Him, but that's what I do a lot of days. I go through the motions, acting as if the most important thing I am doing and preparing the way for is...well, myself. The only red carpet I roll out is my own, so at the end of the day I have a silly, silly notion that my life I live is my own.

Absolutely not. I pray right now and always that He reminds me of the purpose of my life, of every breath I take in day, of me. I pray that I can learn to be a John: willing to suffer for Him, taking all praise and adoration directed towards me and aim it to the One who deserves it, and knowing that this whole life is about none other than choosing into a relationship with the Creator of heaven and Earth. I pray that I may decrease so He may increase.

Blessings