I’ve been going through this constant, drawn out period of introspection. It seems to happen every winter, but it was especially poignant this year. I had an entire day where I felt completely alone; like God had abandoned me and like I was strongly doubting His existence. I grew bitter towards myself for “wasting” my time and for being such a phony leader. (As an aside, I have to give my friend Richie kudos for the wisest thing I’ve ever heard anyone his age say. He was leading our devotions one day in Mexico and going through the concept of wasted time. He concluded that time cannot be wasted, since God is sovereign and in control of time and all of our surroundings. He essentially said that when we start thinking of time as wasted, we are doubting God’s sovereignty and doubting His will for our lives.)

This all stems from my old life of atheism. I always considered organized religion to have a good side to it, rather than how most atheists view it as wholly evil. I knew that religion could often inspire goodness in people. Throughout my day of flashing back into that mentality, I viewed myself as a false prophet and false teacher, leading lambs to their own slaughter. I can’t quite put it into words, because it honestly doesn’t make sense outside of that mindset. It’s a package of lies from Satan. The first one starts with a grain of twisted truth. The next one strays further from the truth, and eventually you start doubting your own faith and start doubting your convictions and start doubting that you are loved by anyone or even capable of love. For me, I start remembering a vision I had years ago in Sun River, Oregon at our youth camp. I was leading people in a dark place. They were all trusting me in every direction I gave. Eventually, I led them off a cliff as I stood by watching each one fall into nothingness. I came back to reality terrified. I’ve never forgotten that day, and it haunts me every time I start questioning the calling on my life.

In other depressing leadership developments, my Bulgaria missions team is falling apart in front of my eyes. A few weeks ago, one of the girls let me know she wasn’t coming back to school and couldn’t be on the team. Last week, we found out that we had been planning for the wrong dates. Instead of June 24-July, the trip is going to be May 24-June 3. Today, because of the date changes, my assistant team leader and the last remaining girl had to drop off the team. That leaves only myself and my roommate. The two of us would gladly go by ourselves, but we’re not yet sure if the missionary wants a two-person team or if our school would approve the trip with only two of us.

Getting back to the whole spiritual battle, my feelings of solitary confinement (I use the prison themed rhetoric to convey the feelings of imprisonment and oppression) are so complete that I feel like the enemy has an entire battalion after me. I’m being bombarded and battered on multiple fronts every single day. I’m missing out on the types of affirmation I know I need. Physical touch has always been important to me, but it goes beyond just that. I know that what I’m truly missing isn’t the types of intimacy and contact my flesh tells me I’m missing (the desire for romantic contact has been welling up, but I both know the timing isn’t right and know that who is interested in me isn’t the person I’m supposed to be with, so I’ll be continuing to avoid that). I’m missing meaningful mentoring and discipleship. I don’t have anyone here yet who truly desires to see me grow and to make it happen. Correction: I haven’t allowed anyone to become that person. I have potential mentors and potential close peers all around me, but I’ve been too guarded and too jaded to let any relationship develop into that.

Last week, after going through the day of doubt, I had to attend some meetings for campus leaders. I thought most of them unnecessary, and several other people agreed with me. Unfortunately, this feeling turned into a full scale rebellion on my part, including just not showing up for the second half of the day. I was angry, doubting my purpose, and tired of people trying to encourage me out of my mood. I was even avoiding the intimate service planned for that evening, until I got a text from a good friend essentially telling me to man up. (The last thing a self-pitying person wants is to be preached at) He simply told me to come to the service. He didn’t sugarcoat it, make it sound nice, or fluff it to meaninglessness. He simply said “Come on, we have service. Get here.” I left my conversation and went. Throughout worship, God was dealing with my hopelessness and my self doubt. Then our leader, instead of starting to preach, opened up the microphone for confession, prayer requests, and true transparency. Essentially, he could have just said “Willem, come get everything off your chest so we can pray with you and show you we love you and we’re in this battle with you.” That time was incredible. I was encouraged, emboldened, and liberated.

Now, I’m just trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. A bit. I’m considering switching over to become an English major. This would not necessarily change my career aspirations, as God has called me into student development and missions, primarily in Muslim areas of the world (along with church planting, the Engage program, and what I’m sure will be multiple years pastoring in the US). My interest in an English major stems primarily from my love for the language (and all languages, really…even French). Many times, I have been told that I should consider majoring in English, for multiple reasons. The switch would also allow me access into many situations as a teacher of English as a second language, which would make accessing “closed” countries significantly more possible and make residency in many other countries more likely attainable.

Along with the long-term vision, I’m trying to figure out exactly what that means for today and what God’s vision for my present is. If I’m going to live the crazy life I just described, I’m going to need quite a special partner for that. What that means is that I’d sure better prepare myself to be deserving of someone like that…one of God’s most beloved daughters. That means redefining purity, healthy relationships, and manhood. Along with preparation for the future, I have opportunities to model all of these changes; this progressive sanctification. I’m finding more and more chances to pour into other guys here on campus, to challenge them to live intentionally.

Oh yeah, and I’m involved at church now. I serve coffee on Sundays, help strategize and plan for the young adults group, and am transitioning onto the leadership team for the youth group, which is exploding. Our church is going to three services this month because the place is absolutely PACKED each week. Our pastor is asking us, the college students, to staff the third service. I, of course, am finding roles to fill. So much to do…

Anyone have advice? Thoughts? Questions? Hit me in the comments.

…yeah…me neither. Not until today.

That turned into one of my top three most important and influential prayer times ever (1. Salvation 2. Holy Spirit Baptism 3. Today). I realized, for the first time, how thankful I was for all the blessings in my life, but how thankless I was for the blesser. I realized how much I desired to be godly and to act pious, but that I had never been capable of it because I had the improper motivation. I realized that I was putting good things (that God may indeed have planned for me…in HIS perfect timing) between myself the greatest good of all: God. I realized how selfishly I have been acting, in turn realizing how much of a hypocrite I’ve been, especially in my prayer times. Well, God laid it on me to fix it. Now.

After that, I spent time praising, worshiping, glorifying, and simply enjoying Him. Not His blessings. Not gifts. Not situations. Not promises. Him.

This awakened a passion in me for that which He has called me to (namely, Bulgaria and my college dorm: the two places I will minister most deeply in the next year).

I know I’m being rather vague about this whole thing, but I need to be right now. I just sacrificed something I’ve wanted for something I needed. It hurt. A lot. Spiritual surgery always does. But then, we are healthier for it. The Lord is our great physician, and we must trust Him in times like this.

Towards the end of my prayer time, I asked God what the next step was. I was led to 1st John, which brought me to this passage:

¹⁵ Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. ¹⁶ For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions—is not from the Father but is from the world. ¹⁷ And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever. (1st Jn. 2:15-17 ESV)

I’m not going to break it down. I’ll simply admit that this whole entry is disjointed and very emotionally-driven. For now, it will have to do.

The woman I wrote about a couple posts back just had her seventh child, who came about a month premature but seems to be doing alright.

Our college ministries have ended (as their schoolyear has ended) and went very well, as I was involved on the CUAAD campus and we saw growth in breadth and depth of relationships.

My school year has ended on a good note. I got a 3.75 gpa for this semester, but that may later change to a 4.0.

I have direction: I’m going to be in Texas next year on the SAGU campus getting my degree in Theological Studies with minors in Spanish and Missions. God has blessed me with vision to someday open up my own Engage location. I’m not sure how far off that is, but my goal is to be back on the mission field long-term by the time I’m 30. What comes in between, I do not know…and that’s okay.

Since the last writing, I have had three major firsts. My first time leading worship was Easter Sunday, my first time telling the bible story for our children’s ministry (in spanish, of course) was this past Saturday, and my first time preaching at a service was last night. All of those went better than I could have expected, although I learned things to improve on from each one (which is exactly what I wanted).

Finances are horrible. I’m about $6,000 behind where I should be for my year here, I have no idea how I’m going to pay for school next year (I’m already taking out full loans, but without a car in Texas I am very limited in what jobs I can apply for, so I’m hoping to find some work while I’m home for August, be it house-sitting, digging ditches, filing paperwork, whatever it takes to be able to buy a car so I can work my way through school at a good job), and I’m having great difficulty finding scholarships for someone like myself.

My spanish is tremendously improved. I can hold pretty solid conversations with most people and I feel capable of doing most spanish work…last week I translated a message successfully in front of over 600 people.

I fought bulls.

I went paintballing (sorry Adrian).

A while back, I posted about continuing to pray for the campus we took spanish classes at, and to have an impact there. We have. We just sent home a very good friend we made there through soccer and classes. He committed his life to Christ while he was here, and he basically lived with us for the last month. We’re seeing other impacts we’ve made as well. It’s exciting.

Stay tuned for more updates throughout the next few months. I expect to be able to post something substantial every couple weeks, and I’ll try to toss in a few photos and anecdotes. Thanks for reading, caring, praying, and giving. Be blessed.

• My first Sunday back in town, I spoke at Solid Rock Family Worship Center, where I have friends and a new section of my church family. They listened intently as I spoke for about ten minutes about our established ministries, our Hell House event, and what we hope to accomplish in the coming years in Guadalajara. God truly is moving in Guadalajara and it was evident that this church now has a heart for the “heart of darkness.” They gave a very generous offering, covering an entire month of my budget. Additionally, several people declared their intention to give regularly over the coming months, which is how most of my funding works anyway. One woman even offered to send Christmas presents to all of our El Colli kids. I was very blessed to spend time at Solid Rock and I am looking forward to giving them regular updates

• Also in that first week, I set up a new email system on the website so people can auto-subscribe to the monthly newsletter I’ll be sending out. If you’d like monthly updates, please enter your name and email on the right side of the page.

• On December 9th, I finished my first semester back in college. I cannot fully describe how good it feels to be done with semester number one. About a week later, I got my grades: a 3.25 gpa. While that isn’t as good as I’d prefer, I suppose I’ll keep in mind just how much I was adjusting to. I expect higher grades in the future, but I’ll be content for now.

• I have a girlfriend for the first time in over four years!  The young woman I am now dating is named Anna. She’s a beautiful and compassionate daughter of God who is a teacher at a local Christian school. I am absolutely beside myself with joy at having found her. Obviously I could go on forever about her, but I’m keeping all of these updates brief, so I suppose I should stay consistent. I’ll post a picture of us at the bottom of this entry.

• I went swing-dancing last night. I never expected to enjoy it as much as I did, but I think I want to pick it up when I come back to Yakima permanently.

• I’ve had dinner at the houses of two prospective Engage students. Both were wonderful dinners filled with poignant questions, great laughs, and gregarious stories. I think both would be excellent candidates for Engage and recommended strongly that they both seriously pursue the program. Honestly, I would recommend this experience for just about every Christian high school graduate. So many aspects of it are beneficial for the age group and it’s a phenomenal learning environment.

• I had my first Reuben. It was delicious. I did not expect to like it, since I’ve never liked rye and never tried sauerkraut, but I was blown away. That’s a delicious sandwich.

• I’m buying a Mac. It just makes too much sense when I’m moving into graphics work, starting musical composition, and potentially doing video editing. I know, I know. I never thought I’d make the switch, but I’m in.

• I discovered that I lost inches while I was in Mexico. I’m actually noticeably thinner. I guess that’s a good start, but I’m still not where I’d like to be.

• I learned how to do drywall. I know, this isn’t exactly something you’d normally write about, but it was actually pretty exciting. Over the last week I’ve been working with a friend who is a general contractor and I’ve learned a lot of things that will come in handy when I have my own house someday, since repairing things is one of my favorite things to do and doing it myself is way cheaper than hiring someone else.

• I miss speaking Spanish. I never thought I’d say that. I’m very much looking forward to picking it back up.

• I received some very exciting news regarding my future as a pastor. It’s confidential for now and in the very very infantile stages, but I’ll be praying on it constantly and looking forward to whatever develops.

• Tomorrow Anna and I are driving over the pass after church to be with the Diehls for a few days. I’m not sure if I’m speaking at church at all, since nobody ever got back to me on that, but I would love the opportunity if it presents itself, since my funding is terribly low and nobody really knows what we’re doing or how to help. I’ll be praying about that tonight as well.

I think that’s it for now. As promised, the picture of Anna and I:

Anyway, I suppose I should recount the hilarity that always seems to accompany me on my traveling adventures.

At 1am on December 1st, I left our house. Richie, Jen, and Rachel accompanied me in our van after the three of them had spent a good chunk of the day arguing over who would get to take me. Eventually, we realized that Steve had the truck keys, so we had to take the van, which meant everyone could fit and we could have a grand adventure. Being an adventure, we all simultaneously decided to adopt outrageous accents. After “freerunning” around the Wallmart parking lot, we finally headed off to the bus station, where I managed to speak clearly and thoroughly in Spanish with the ticket agent. I was a bit stunned. Maybe I should always be exhausted when I’m trying to speak Spanish.

I purchased my bus ticket to Puerto Vallarta for the 1:40am bus, then sat down with the three hooligans for a while before they realized I’d be perfectly fine without them there (to be honest, I was sad when they left and had very little to do).  I hopped onto my bus and settled in for a nap that never came. I tried to sleep. I was sleepy. I was sitting in a very comfortable chair. The bus was quiet and incredibly smooth-driving. There was one issue, however. The bus was at least 90 degrees. Seriously, the bus driver must have blown right past “heat” on the dial and right on into the “fiery pits of hell” setting. So how hot was it? I’ll tell you how hot it was. It was so hot, I stripped down naked and put ice packs all over my body and was still sweating. It was so hot, the demons left everyone on the bus and retreated to Hell for some reprieve. It was so hot…ok, so it wasn’t THAT hot. But I was still sweating so badly that I couldn’t sleep. Not my favorite way to start a 27 hour journey.

We arrived in Puerto Vallarta around 6:15am. It was still dark. After grabbing my luggage (I packed light enough that I only had a backpack and a carry-on), I sauntered up to a group of cabbies and asked where the best breakfast on the beach was. They all gave different answers, so I went with the one who described the food the best (story-tellers know food, am I right?). We meandered through the beautiful buildings and palm-lined parkways until we finally arrived at a dead end that was about 20 feet from the beach. Then I discovered I only had 50 pesos, so we had to scoot over to an atm. I think he expected me to bolt, but I paid his full fair of course (the guy did swindle me a bit, but he was getting me to beachfront and delicious food, so I let it slide).

That’s when I found out that nobody was open until 7:30, and there was no way I could afford those restaurants. And the beach was dark. And cold. And rainy. I still got to stare out for a while admiring the absolute creativity and beauty involved in God’s creating this earth. Seriously, He knew what He was doing, and it was done well. Eventually, after being soaked in a combination of sweat, sea water, and rain, I decided to find a bus to the airport. I had to ask a few bus drivers, but I finally found the spot to wait at and got on the right bus.

I waltzed over to the Mexicana check-in and had a nice 15 minute conversation with the lonely attendant. We talked international politics, the greater ramifications of life decisions, the meaning of life, and Jesus. It was nice. Then a family finally showed up and I noticed they were speaking in both Spanish and English. Seeing as how we all had to wait for the security personnel to arrive before we could proceed with our day, I struck up conversation in Spanish with the dad (Rogelio). We talked a little bit about Spanish and my purpose in Mexico before I asked where they were headed for vacation. He then replied that they had just finished their vacation and were now headed back home in the States. I asked where they were from. He said Washington. I asked where at in Washington. He said Yakima. I said no way. I said I lived on Naches Avenue and Martin Luther King. He asked why I lived in such a bad area, then said they were actually from Sunnyside.

We eventually found out that they were headed through Mexico City, then Phoenix, then Seattle, whereas I was flying Mexico City, Dallas, Seattle. The security guy finally showed up and we separated for an hour or so. I had some breakfast, read some of Hebrews and Romans, then headed to Starbucks to sneak a wireless signal for my computer. There, I met a couple guys from Chicago who were having trouble getting in touch with their hotel, so I looked up a phone number for them.

When I headed over to the gate for my flight, I reunited with the Sunnyside family and asked if they knew how to get onto the airport shuttle from Seatac to Yakima. Instead of answering me, they decided they wanted to drive me home after their flight got in. I was floored. God provides in such creative ways.

The flight from Puerto Vallarta to Mexico City was mostly uneventful. I sat with an empty seat between myself and a really nice kid who plays soccer for a second division club in Mexico, but who spent two years playing at San Diego State University. We talked a lot about soccer, California, future business planning, and Jesus. We talked about laying up treasure in Heaven instead of on earth, but at the same time being responsible stewards of what God has put into our hands. It was very beneficial for him, as by the end of the conversation he’d decided to go back to school and make sure he had a plan for life after soccer.

I met a few really delightful people in Mexico City. One was a girl from Tyler, Texas who sat next to me in the airport. The other was a British girl who grew up in Holland, but was now flying from deep in Southern Mexico after studying political corruption (she’s a social geography major) and taking a trip to a rural part of Argentina to study there for a couple weeks. The British girl had sat across from me while I was sitting down at my gate, reading and listening to music. I couldn’t help but notice her awesome shoes (they had a monster from Where the Wild Things Are) and made a comment. She blushed and said thank you. Then we both went back to what we were doing. She ended up sitting next to me on the plane (with an empty seat between us. I have no idea how I managed to get that arrangement twice), so we talked the whole way from Mexico City to Dallas. I remember one moment in particular where we both looked out the window down onto the clouds as we were skimming across the tops of them. The sun was just dipping beneath them, illuminating each particle in brilliant shades of orange, red, purple, pink, and yellow, while the moon was rising in a crystal blue sky, full and bright. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

When we finally landed in Dallas, it was night, cold, and rainy. We had plans to meet up for dinner on the other side of customs, but I never found her. It was a bit sad, but then I remembered I had a US phone I very badly needed to check. Life got busy at that point. Texts, tweets, voicemails, calls, you name it. I had a lot of catching up to do.

The flight from Dallas to Seattle finally caught up with me. It was a packed flight and neither of the people I sat between was in the mood to talk, so I just watched UP! on the in-flight movie. I really liked it. It was cute. We touched down in Seattle around 10:45pm. (Accounting for the two hour time difference, 11pm ushered in hour 24 of travel and hour 40 of being awake.) The Sunnyside family landed at 10:57, so I met up with them at their baggage claim, we hopped in a hotel shuttle, hopped in their car, and headed home. After getting lost several times, the dad finally took my directions and we got onto the freeway. That’s when the mom started asking me everything there is to know about the differences between Mexican Catholicism and Assemblies of God doctrines. I must say, that was an absolutely wonderful conversation and it kept us all awake until we got to Yakima and dropped me off at Wallmart, where Kim and Thayne picked me up about 10 seconds after the family drove away. The timing was impeccable. It was still at 3:15am though, so I was tired.

They took me back to Thayne’s place and he and I stayed up watching some ridiculous tv show called Tim and Erik Awesome Show Great Job. It was absolutely hilarious and we stayed up watching that and wasting time with our laptops open until after 5am. It was a delightful way to end an amazing trip.

Now I’m here in Yakima and staying at a different friend’s house for the remainder of my time here. I’m pretty sure I found a job for while I’m here, I get to speak at a church this Sunday, and I have a bit of homework to finish while balancing time with many many friends and families here. I love this life.

It’s Thanksgiving Day, I’m thousands of miles away from my family or anyone I’ve ever considered family, and I couldn’t follow the traditions that I’ve had since the first Thanksgiving I remember. Football? No watching. No playing. Zilch. I’m good with that. I can deal with that. Apparently, they ended up being pretty lousy games to watch anyway. Solid. Datenut bread? Can’t make it here. Don’t have the stuff. (This is a recipe handed down for generations in my mom’s family that she taught me how to make. She made it every Thanksgiving and Christmas until she died, then I took over each year). Switching into pajamas after dinner? Nope. Shoot, half our people didn’t even want a pause between the two (I continue to be appalled by that idea) and I had to set up for a few other things.

If I’m listing off all this sad stuff that didn’t make me cry, you’d figure I only cried for happy things, right? Well, you’d be wrong. Don’t get me wrong; this day brings to mind so many blessings, both seen and unseen, that I’m brought to tears with overwhelming gratitude for the Jehova Jireh. The Almighty Father truly blesses me every single day, starting with the fact that I, an unworthy sinner, have been plucked from the clutches of death and made righteous in His sight, purified by the propitiation of Christ on the cross. The sacrifice of the Spotless Lamb truly does bring unbridled joy to my heart. However, what broke me today…over and over…over and over again, was another blessing. A blessing broke me? Yes. Let me explain.

Today, God blessed me with ears to hear and eyes to see. Today, God revealed the brokenness of my generation. He revealed the pain it causes Him each time a misguided soul, Christian or not, Catholic or Protestant, young or old, male or female, takes Him and His grace for granted. He revealed how much it pains Him to see each of us turns our back on Him whenever we decide that we can sin and make it up later. He revealed how much it breaks His heart when we are free to roam, free to blaspheme, free to indulge simply because “He’ll forgive me later.”

I’m not sure where Christ laid that out as the way to live. Wait, yes I am. Nowhere. That’s not the Biblical life-model. You know why? Because it stinks. You know why Christ modeled a life and Paul and the other Apostles carefully-sculpted the image of a life lived rightly? Because it brings righteousness. Not self-righteousness. Righteousness.

Do we even know what that is anymore? Honestly, most people don’t even try to figure out what it is. They just figure they’re covered because they mumbled some prayer after some guy who yelled at them about some other guy who did stuff so they’d be cool with some other guy who has a lot of weird names.

Salvation is worked out. Work it out. Work by the sweat of our brow is Biblically-prescribed

How does this strike you?
17To Adam he said, “Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat of it,’
“Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat of it
all the days of your life.
18It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.
19By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return.”    Genesis 3:17-19

Yeah, sounds fun, huh? As soon as Satan entered our lives, so did hard work. Work existed before we had sin (Gen. 2 speaks of working in the Garden of Eden), but God makes a clear difference between the work we originally did in the Garden and the work we are now ascribed today. Because we allowed hurdles into our lives (Seriously Adam, you had to go and fail at being a real man? Thanks dude. Thanks a lot.), we now have the added burden of hard work.  According to Philippians 2:12 (So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling;) we get to work out our salvation as well. What does that mean? As I read it, I’m pointed back to my original point: salvation is not an event. Rather, it is a process.

This process entails much. Constant failures, learning, stretching, denying one’s flesh (rather, slaying one’s flesh and replacing those desires with the Holy Spirit’s guidance and the will of God), and yes, repentance. What does repentance mean, though? Does it mean remorse? That’s not the Biblical model, so no. Does it mean empty words said to anyone who will listen (perhaps someone who is not an appropriate confidante for such sensitive information)? No, we know that’s not it either. Let’s take a peek at what our actual authority has to say about repentance.

2 Corinthians 7:10- Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.

Pretty clear, right? This shows repentance is an understand of having done wrong, but in a Godly manner. Let’s keep going, on to one of my favorite books in the whole Bible.

Hebrews 6:4- For it is impossible to keep on restoring to repentance time and again people who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have become partners with the Holy Spirit

Okay, that’s pretty heavy stuff, right? Repeated restoration to repentance is impossible for those who have received the Holy Spirit? If someone corrected you with this scripture without referencing it, what’s the likelihood you would even believe that it’s sound logic? I would ask if you would be likely to even think that it’s Biblical, but I don’t want to imply that anyone reading this might, you know, not accept Biblical correction from others. Okay, back to the point. The vast majority of us would usually read this, try to swallow the rapidly-drying and rapidly-growing lump suddenly stuck in their throat, and say “okay, but how does that make sense? Why?” Let’s find out.

Hebrews 6:5-6 – ⁵and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come, ⁶and then have fallen away, to restore them again to repentance, since they are crucifying once again the Son of God to their own harm and holding him up to contempt.

Now hold on just a gosh darn moment! Are you saying that God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that we would question His why and how, and then decided to (pause for a moment here, it’s a big deal) answer us in the very next verse? Who knew? Who knew we served a God who answers our questions and makes clear His desires and His commands? Did you know this? Why didn’t I know this? How many of you knew this and didn’t tell me? (Okay, so that last one is a whole separate post and probably will be the subject of many a sermon in my lifetime, so I’ll leave it alone for the moment.) Back to the passage. “And the powers of the age to come” is an entirely different doctrinal issue, so I’ll let it alone for the moment. The real meat I’m getting at here is the bit about repeated repentance being equal to repeatedly crucifying the Son of God, as well as “holding him up to contempt.”

Let’s take a peek at the word “contempt.” Dictionary.com describes it thus: “the feeling with which a person regards anything considered mean, vile, or worthless; disdain; scorn.” I’d like to settle on the word “worthless.” The Bible, in Hebrews 6 just said that when we repeatedly subject ourselves to sin, falling away from God, then respond to repentance over and over, that we are treating Christ as worthless. That just doesn’t sound good. I think I’ll try to pass. Oh wait, I don’t have to. It’s impossible.

This would probably be a good time to extend an olive branch called grace. If not to extend it, I’ll at least attempt to explain God’s view on grace. This passage (and the great majority of this post) concerns intentional, habitual, repetitive sin. (The kind of sin where you usually don’t notice it because you’ve grown numb to even remembering that it is a sin. The other option, and the one that makes more sense for this passage, is that they are the sins that afterward we recognize, and maybe even feel sorry for, but that we do nothing to reconcile. When we apologize to God, that does nothing, as the true definition of repentance is not found in remorse. More on that later.) It does not necessarily address incidental, non-habitual sins. (The kind of sins where afterward the reaction is “God, I hate that. Don’t let me do that again. Please forgive me Lord. That’s not my heart and I don’t ever want to do that. Ever.” You know, the sins that aren’t regularly in your life, so you recognize them and actually, well, repent.) God’s grace, accomplished through the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus Christ, covers this last type of sin, because we actually attempt to stay covered under this grace when we repent.

Imagine Jesus is walking next to you. It’s pouring down rain. Jesus has this super-awesome umbrella. When we’re walking with Him, we’re dry. No sweat (pun intended). No worries, right? Super. What happens if we take a rabbit trail? What happens if we suddenly start chasing after someone else or hanging out and walking with them? We become soaking, sopping, miserably wet, of course. To that end, we are living in sin. Absolutely covered in it. Repeated offenses will lead to consistent cold, clammy, angry wetness, which eventually leads to a miserable life, and probably to sickness. Here’s where repentance comes in. Repentance is a reversal of course. Does that mean instant dryness and a peachy-keen life? Of course not. Why not? Because while Jesus kept heading towards the Father because He is always focused on the goal, which is Heaven of course, (yes, He is always chasing after us, so the analogy breaks down) we were headed in the opposite direction. We have to include the economic law of loss here. Every block we were heading in the opposite direction of Jesus, we were actually moving two blocks away from him. Of course, the Lord works differently in each person’s life, but the principle applies. If we’re heading away from Christ for, say, three blocks, we are in effect six blocks away from Him when we have our moment of repentance. Let’s assume that it’s genuine repentance, so we turn and run to him. He’s still moving, so we’ll say we’re moving at twice the pace. We start six blocks away. He moves one block, we move two. Five blocks away. He moves one, we move two. Four blocks away. You get the point. Six blocks’ time for him, and twelve for us. Don’t forget the three other blocks away we were. We spent 15 blocks away from Him for three blocks’ worth of following the other trail. Now we’re back under the umbrella and nice and safe and cozy and dry, right?

Wrong. Here’s the hardest part of repentance. It takes time to dry off after you get under that umbrella. It takes time to heal. (We know that God does miracles today. I have seen it. I have experienced it. He delights in deliverance. However, more often God works through victory and processes of obedience.) Don’t forget all the distractions trying to draw you back into the tempest at every corner, every store window, and all the stumbling blocks trying to trip you up along the way. Just because you repent and run back to Christ doesn’t mean the enemy won’t try to mess with you. Getting dry is one incredible challenge. Staying dry is an entirely different animal.

Speaking of rabbit trails, I seem to have gotten myself lost on one here. I started writing this about the tears I shed today for my generation and ended up preaching for 2000+ words. Shweet.

What I intended to write about all sparked from a conversation this morning after I was asked for my opinion on tattoos. I’d gotten halfway through the sentence where I usually set up my opinion about there being a difference between pre-marriage and post-marriage tattoos when I was cut off and informed that “It doesn’t matter if it’s going to be someone else’s body someday. God will give you someone who will like it or someone who will forgive you for it. We all have pasts, you know?” I was appalled. I was completely at a loss for how someone could disrespect their future spouse in such a way. I still haven’t said anything. Not for fear, but because I know this person well enough at this point to realize that it is something God will teach in His perfect timing, because this person is growing in relationship with God and constantly pushing closer and closer. Soon enough, God will bless this person with the wisdom and prudence necessary to understand the statement uttered.

We all have pasts, yes. God forgives them when we humble ourselves and take refuge under his umbrella of grace. However, we all have futures, as well. We all have futures that we need to keep in mind, that we need to guard, just as we guard our hearts. What respect for the holy covenant of marriage do we hold if we maintain an “I can do that, my future spouse will forgive me for it or God will give me someone who isn’t bothered by it,” outlook? Even more importantly, what respect do we have for Christ if we maintain that attitude towards the holy covenant of faith in the Son of God? I think we pretty clearly covered that earlier in this post, didn’t we?

This is what God showed me today. This is what brought me to tears and indecipherable babble multiple times throughout the day. The enemy has strongholds in each of us, and the stronghold he holds in this young person is clearly one of deception as to the importance of the future, the covenants involved, the eternal consequences of every action, and you know what? It will be torn down. It will be abolished. It will be sanctified by holy fire in the name of Jesus Christ. There will be restoration. There will be healing. There will be Truth. Truth the person, the man, the god, the savior, the messiah. Truth will prevail as He always does and always will.

Hey, whaddya know? I’m crying again. It’s a different cry this time. It’s the cry of victory. A victory not yet felt, but one surely coming. Amen.

I love prefaces. They feel like low-key, but still important, disclaimers. Nobody likes a disclaimer. Disclaimer means you’re likely to find something you don’t like and they’re taking either legal or preventative action to stave off complaints or lawsuits. Prefaces are more like “hey, just a heads up, this is what to keep your eyes open for.” I dig that.

You know what else I like? Boldness. Bold type is alright, but I just dig boldness. Kind of like digging the word “dig.” That’s part of why I liked Diglett so much. Dugtrio was ok, but Diglett was just awesome.

You know what’s good? Lots of stuff.

I went to Walmart the other day (ok, who am I kidding, I go to Walmart almost every day, even though I despise the company) and bought some Blue Bell ice cream that was listed at 51 pesos. In case you don’t know, the exchange rate hovers around 13 pesos to the dollar, making that pint of deliciousness priced at about $3.90. That’s a pretty decent deal if you ask me. Here’s the exciting part (as if delicious ice cream wasn’t enticing enough): they priced it wrong. My ice cream rung up for $35.10 pesos (oh yeah, they put the $ sign in front of their prices, which is hilarious to me. Did you know that it originally had two vertical lines connected by a little loopy thingy at the bottom. This is also called a U. Why? Because it used to be US smooshed together, but we got lazy and swapped it to one single vertical strike. Now you can understand why I find the $ in front of peso prices hilarious, right?). That means my pint of high quality, delicious Blue Bell pecan pralines n’ cream (why is there only one apostrophe on that?) cost me roughly $2.70 american. Baller.

I’m so sick of not having my dress clothes. I never expected to miss dress shoes, a nice shirt, and my tie, but I do. I feel like a scrub at church each week, and I’m still dressed appropriately in good jeans and a nice polo shirt. I wanna feel pretty. I might regret that sentence tomorrow. No edits.

I was going to work at Costco when I was in Yakima for our December break, but they told me they can’t afford to hire me. I’m considering looking for some other work for the three weeks, but I’m sure God will provide, in all ways, all that I need. I just keep remembering the scripture concerning not eating if you don’t work (2 Thessalonians 3:10) and thinking I should at least be willing to work. If anyone knows of anything I could do to earn a little extra, I’d greatly appreciate some leads.

Rachel and I just made up an absolutely hilarious dance to “Feliz Navidad” for El Colli in eight hours. Seriously, it’s awesome.

I think Gabi has a better monkey face than I do.

I’m rather perturbed (I might even say I’m vexed) that I have routinely been called “WillemPooh” after a girl started calling me “WinniePooh” a couple weeks ago. She’s been way too forward with me, and I’m not even allowed to date if I wanted to, which I don’t. I’m single on and with purpose, thank you, and I’m not breaking that streak in Mexico. If anyone calls me anything relating to that name, I will be ignoring you. Probably for the rest of the day. Ok, so probably for a good 10 minutes. This is why guys can’t hold grudges. We don’t care enough and we don’t have the attention span.

Tonight, I had an amazing discussion on postmodernism, Buddhism as a religion (it’s not, by the way), and Christianity, as well as my Christian responsibility to share my faith. I didn’t quote scripture in the conversation, since they all would have disregarded the authority I know to be present in the scriptures, but I did use an analogy I’m rather fond of:

As far as discussing it in public, I can think of no better place. What use is a discussion if it’s in private and with no dissenting opinions? That may be a difference in style between the two of us, but I absolutely enjoy being challenged and stretched in my faith and my thought process in front of everyone and with everyone allowed to chime in.

Part of your original post asked why everyone couldn’t just find what made them happy and keep it to themselves. I think if anyone kept it to themselves, that would make them the most selfish person on the planet. I share because I genuinely believe that Jesus is the path to salvation; the only path. I share because I care about people and I’m trying to learn to love them all, and part of that is at least telling them all about the wonderful thing I have discovered. I try not to be pushy, because I hated those people, but if I don’t at least tell people once, I feel as though I’m abandoning them and hiding something they could partake of. I’ve always been of the belief that more options are a good thing. More information available makes more informed (and thus, better) decisions. With that said, it then becomes my responsibility to make sure people know of this option. The fact that I believe it is the only correct choice is a bonus, of course.

It’s like handing someone a multiple choice question with only a, b, c, and d on it, knowing that e is the correct answer. That just seems awful to me.

If you can find a hole in that, let me know. I like shoring up my arguments and the best way to do so is to be challenged.

I’m trying to find churches to speak at about my experiences in Mexico and about all that God is doing in, through, and around us there. So far I’m booked at one on December 6th, but the rest of December and the first Sunday in January are still open. I’m planning to be in Yakima until Christmas and on the west side of the state after that.

Fruit salad is a funny thing. If there’s yogurt, it’s heavenly. If there isn’t, it’s the Devil’s fruit. Here’s why: if you don’t coat the fruit in something (Yogurt was just the most common coating I could think of that isn’t marshmallow, which is disgusting and just wrong. If you coat your fruit in marshmallow junk, you are wrong. Repent. Go and sin no more.), the fruits all share juices and just end up tasting like the most dominant fruit. Put another way: they’re lying. Who is the king of lies? That would be Satan. You keep your Satan Salad. I’ll have none of it.

I don’t understand lettuce.

Seth pooped in the potty this week. Hannah wanted to throw him a parade. Before Mexico, I would have thought that’s the strangest reaction ever. Now? I’m on board. You might say I dig it.

We all bought a book called StrengthsQuest. I highly recommend it. You can go to their website (https://www.strengthsquest.com/) and take a test (if you buy a brand new book, you get a code to take the test) that shows you your top 5 strength areas. I disagreed with mine at first, but after reading the descriptions I can understand why I ended up with those results. Everyone in the house has to take the test, and I’ve already learned a ton about myself and about nearly everyone else in the house. It’s been extremely helpful, and I was a skeptic! With that said, my top 5 strengths are Restorative, Connectedness, Woo, Individualization, and Ideation. First person to make fun of me for having woo gets…gets…I don’t know. But you won’t like it. If you want to know what those mean, go to the website, because I’m not typing it all out (Don’t give me any guff about copy+paste. I don’t feel like it and when I’m ornery, there’s no messing with me.)

Tonight, a small group went to the homeless ministry. They ended up praying over a woman who was possessed and manifesting her demon(s). I don’t know all the details, but I heard that they kept praying for her for quite a long time and she tried to pray with them. Every time she tried to say the name of Jesus, her speech would suddenly cease and all she could say was “ayudame,” which means “help me,” for the Spanishless. Upon hearing their story, my eyes welled up and tears started streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t help but feel incredible anguish for her. She is tormented, just like so many others in this world. How much pain can one Jesus take? He is incredible. I am absolutely amazed by Him.

On the being amazed by our savior note, my worship song is totally coming together. It’s one of the first posts on this blog, a song titled “With You.” Honestly, the title stinks, but the song has actually turned out rather well. I can play it on the piano and sing it now, and Matt is piecing together a guitar part (He wrote almost all the piano music. Actually, I’m not sure if I wrote any of it. I wrote the lyrics and the melody forever ago though, so I guess that’s something.) and Gabi mentioned wanting to learn/create a harmony vocal after she heard me playing it. We’ll be performing it at a local poetry night the day after Thanksgiving.

I need new Christian music.

Oh, I’ve thought of a few things I would like for Christmas (none is needed)

• A digital camera (preferably this one)
• Logos Bible Software (found here)
• Baked Goods
• Hugs
• At least one really really good high five
• A pocket Spanish-English dictionary

I’m barely conscious. Seriously, it took me like 35 minutes to write that Christmas list. I wonder if there are leftovers in the fridge.

Just soup. I’ll pass.

I just realized that I’ve written over 1700 words on this blog, yet I’ve been avoiding writing three 2-page articles summaries like the plague.

Best quote I’ve heard recently: “Excuse me miss, your postmodernism is showing.”

After this year, I’m never playing fantasy football again. I don’t care if I end up winning the whole league (which is totally possible; I’m in 3rd place). It’s way too stressful and distracting.

Also, I’ve decided not to drink soda next year. I’m tired of feeling so out of shape. I only weigh like 200 lbs, but I feel huge.

Just for fun, here are two hilarious pictures of me.

So ummm….Google Reader is my new favorite toy. It’s amazing. I get to keep track of everything I like reading all the time, but it puts all the posts into one spot instead of making me hop all over to different websites. Whoever came up with this idea should get a nice posh corner office overlooking something pretty.

In honor of my mom’s recent birthday, you should all click on this link and then click the big pink button to support breast cancer research and free mammograms for women who need them. (CLICK HERE IF YOU HATE CANCER)

I have to type a few more words so I can eek over the 2000 mark, just because I think that would be a pretty cool thing. I’m not sure why, I just get the impression that I’d be much more pleased with 2009 words of nonsense than i would be with 1986. Ok, I just realized that I just typed the current year and my birth year without intending to. Crazy sauce.

Ministered to tons of kids through song, dance, and helping with the day’s Bible story (I was a discus champion, and I was good at it)

Handled a parent’s questions in Spanish by myself (and figured out who her kids were)

Discovered that being called “Gordito” by the local kids is, in fact, not offensive here (I’m still not sure I believe that)

Lashed out in a passive-aggressive manner towards people yelling nonstop in the study room (I apologized later and I should have handled my need for quiet in a more tactful fashion)

Ate a lot of honey-roasted peanuts and hershey’s kisses. (I truly think this might be the best combination of snack foods)

Wrote a paper on an amazing book (the paper is below, and significantly less impressive than the book)

Admired Seth’s and Baby Henry’s incredible costumes (Baker In Training for Seth, Pooh and a Pumpkin for Baby Henry)

Had a great chat with a mentor (although part of it was more hilarious than mentor-mentee relationship)

Ate amazing food, all throughout the day. (Home-baked goodies, tomato basil soup, baked potatoes, yum)

Did the best makeup job I have ever done for Mike’s demon outfit (Seriously, he looked Joker-esque)

Complained about the egregious lack of good tape in this country (I honestly have no idea how they hold their stuff together without the glory of duct tape)

Continually ran back and forth between a fake party and the Judgment Seat, where I then draped myself in a sheet that wouldn’t stay up (due to lack of good tape) so I could play God

Met a couple of very cool new people and got to practice my Spanish in a long car ride around 1am. (They said I spoke very well!)

Had a very healthy and helpful chat with a very good friend on the way back from that long car ride. (I’d been looking forward to this particular conversation for a while)

Once we got all the registration stuff figured out and connected with a proctor for our assessments, we were all crammed into a little room with what should never ever qualify as a desk for adults. They plopped the giant assessment packet in front of each of us, then gave us an answer sheet and explained (I’m giving her a little credit here, because it barely qualified as an explanation in English) how to take our assessments and what information was needed on the answer forms. I finished section two with some confidence, so I figured I would place into level two (out of 9). Everyone else finished after me, except the people who simply put their names on the answer sheets and handed them in, knowing they needed to be in level 1. The proctor then corrected my assessment on my desk in front of me: 8/10 for level 1 and 4/10 for level 2. I was then whisked away to a room with a woman who spoke very fast and rather quietly (this is a problem, since I have had a sinus infection that has plugged my ears for days, so I am having trouble hearing), so I couldn’t understand her very well. As it turns out, she was conducting an placement interview (Yes, I meant to put “an.” It’s grammatically correct, even though it sounds funny.), so I didn’t exactly pass that with flying colors. She then swapped over to hesitant English to explain to me that I hadn’t demonstrated enough confidence in my speech to thrive in level 2 communication (we take 1 grammar class and 1 communication class). I assured her that I had the hearing thing going on and I just needed to get back into it and that I’d prefer to be placed into level 2, so she just let me start that way!

Oddly, I’m the only one of us in level 2. Two people tested into level 4, I’m in level 2, and everyone else is in level 1. We had to do a bunch of silly paperwork and running around to get everything set up, and we still didn’t finish before we had to leave, but we can finish that mess on Monday when we start our classes.

We got back to the house around 10ish for a 10:30 meeting, which was basically just a short description of what we’d be doing for the rest of the day. We got to take a tour of all of our ministry sites, praying at each site. This was very exciting for all of us, since we’d only been to one site and hadn’t even gotten to put a full effort into that experience.

We first went to El Colli, divided into El Campo (a dirt field with patches of grass and patches of trash) and La Cancha (a playground). I was in the El Campo team, so we were dropped off first. We walked around praying individually for about 15 minutes before coming together to pray a blessing over the whole place. I got some interesting insight about that place. I saw army ants crawling all over the place and started thinking about needing more soldiers in the Lord’s army, how we would need to crawl on our bellies in humiliation at times and would need to carry burdens much larger than ourselves at times, but how if we work tirelessly and with God’s will in mind and heart, we will build something much greater than the surface can show. We also had a prophesy of life returning to the area, as evidenced by the near jungle on the perimeter. It was definitely an eye-opening trip.

Next, we packed up the van and headed to our youth center, La Fusion. This place is amazing. It’s in a completely broken area of town where you can feel the oppression and depression all around you, but there’s this place above a nail salon that has brightly-colored walls, ping-pong, foosball, carpetball (this game is amazing, so I’ll have to post a video someday), beautiful high arched brick ceilings, and a basketball court in the back. It’s so clearly a lighthouse in the area, and we each took a turn to pray against the strongholds affecting kids in the area.

We then headed off to one of the college campuses (CUCEA) to have lunch, meet the Chi Alpha group on campus, and prayer-walk the campus with them. Lunch was interesting, because I ordered first and got my food last. It was delicious though (chiles rellenos), so I didn’t complain. We got to walk with Jensen, who is from a small island country I can’t remember in the Caribbean. He was a great guide and we got a good idea of the culture on the campus, which gave us knowledge of what to pray for.

After CUCEA, we scooted over to another university where Angela teaches English (UTEG). This was easily the most uncomfortable I have ever been. On top of being cranky already from wearing jeans in Mexican heat and being sweaty, coupled with being itchy from mosquito bites, smashed together with having spent the entire day crammed into a hot van with people who were all talking the entire time, I was the last one into the classroom, so I got stuck with the crazy girls. You know those girls in high school who try to corrupt any wholesome guy who shows them the slightest bit of kindness? I had to work with them. First, they wanted me to teach them how to say breast implants in English, so they could put it on their homework as things they would accomplish in the coming years. Then, they asked me out for tequila and dancing, explaining that one of them was an exotic dancer. This was not my favorite 45 minutes in life. Richie tried to rescue me, but they dismissed him and went back to attacking their prey. Eventually, Angela took pity on me and started a class-wide game of hangman.

Finally, we escaped that place. On the way out, I had a short conversation with Carolyn about my time spent as an atheist, which I still have to finish. We then took a trip to UNIVA, a private Catholic university several blocks from our house. We prayer-walked the campus in one group and met a couple people who our leaders were friends with from last year, then we got ditched. Our leaders left a second year student (Justin) with us and took the van home, telling us it was our task to get home safely for dinner, with the caveat that Justin wasn’t allowed to do anything except keep us alive. I started walking to the nearest exit, which happens to be on the opposite side of campus from our house. Stacia corrected our course and got us going in the right direction (this should have been a sign that I should not be leading the charge on this day, although I’m usually the best direction person I know). Richie and I asked the guards at the gate how to get to our house. They gave very easy and clear directions…which we both heard wrong. They said “derecho” and we heard “derecha.” This seems like a small difference to you non-spanish speakers, but derecho means straight and derecha means right. Considering they were talking about the first intersection, we got ourselves in trouble at the start. We ended up going way out of our way, Brittany almost passed out from dehydration (we’re all adjusting to this altitude and bottled water only thing), were given three sets of bad directions before getting ourselves straightened out, and finally got home. It took us about 45 minutes. Upon getting back, Justin told us of our mistake and explained that it’s about a 5 minute walk if we’d gone straight, and that we come out at the corner that is literally 1 house away from ours. Awesome.

Throughout the day we were faced with tons of riddles from Matt. Most of us enjoyed them and rose to the challenge. Some people didn’t. I was one of those that did. I’m usually good at riddles and answered a lot of them, so I had fun with it, despite the very vocal protestations of some of our less riddle-friendly compatriots.

After a quick dinner, several of us went to play ultimate frisbee at the Autonoma campus. Normally, we’ll be able to join in with the games on Thursdays, but they were practicing for their tournament this weekend so we just took one of their players and played our own side game, which ended 7-6 at dark. It was a great game and a lot of fun and we kept everyone involved without getting ultra-competitive. We all really enjoyed it.

Upon returning home, we faced one last challenge to regain a portion of our toiletries. Matt gave us two ropes and blindfolded two of our team members, who were also instructed not to speak. He then interwove the ropes and faced the two members towards one another. Over an hour later after many failed attempts, swappings of the rope holders, removal of blindfolds, Matt took Phoenicia downstairs and showed her how to do it, once, quickly. She wasn’t allowed to approach or speak to the rope-holders, and she couldn’t quite communicate it. Stacia went next and, in typical Stacia fashion, came bounding up the stairs and couldn’t contain her excitement. About 15 seconds later, we all rejoiced. Then we received 1 stick of deoderant, 1 bottle of shampoo, and 1 bottle of conditioner. We were told that we got to choose one item for the guys, one for the girls, and one to be shared. Loree suggested that the guys get the deoderant, the girls get the conditioner, and the shampoo be shared. This made sense to all of us, so I poured some shampoo into a cup for the guys and handed the bottle to the girls, then we all went to take showers and go to bed.

Most of our day was spent staring at the front of the living room while we were flooded with information on Mexican culture, respect, and talking with Pastor Daniel, who heads one of our partner churches. He gave us many many insights on both the Mexican cultural heritage and on today’s customs and practices. He also filled us in on a lot of little things worth remembering, like hand gestures, slang phrases, and celebrities. We should be a lot more culturally relevant because of his time spent with us.

Much of the day was also spent studying the history of the church, particularly Catholicism and the path to Mexico’s present-day picture. Today, between 75-95% of Mexicans will identify themselves as Catholics. Much like in the United States, many of those who affiliate themselves with a church do not necessarily practice the beliefs or even attend services. We also got the opportunity to speak on Skype with a highly-respected theologian who grew up in a Protestant church, but converted to Catholicism. He gave us many insights into true Catholic dogmas, practices, and the original and present-day reasoning behind some of their traditions. He also was happy to answer the peppering of questions we threw at him, occasionally regretfully admitting that some of the Catholic traditions were very poorly understood in specific churches. However, that isn’t the point. We were trying to have a conversation on unity and working as one body for one Christ and for one purpose, so we each brought faults to the table. He told us the history of the Catholic church in Mexico and explained why it was so strong here. Additionally, we gained some insight as to the challenges we would face as white, American, pentecostal missionaries. We have a lot of work to do and it’s going to be way harder than we thought, but worth every drop of blood, drop of sweat, and tear.