A Prayer for Easter
Can you see me?
I’m helpless here. A clatter of dry bones lying on this sofa. Breathing but dead. Don’t bother to knock. I ain’t getting up any time soon. Just open the door. Come on in if you like.
Put your ear right here, close to my soul. Listen. Is there life inside?
Yes, I remember now. A long time ago, you spoke to someone who felt powerless, heartbroken and afraid. You said, “I am the resurrection and the life.” Then you went to a grave, and you cried out,“Lazarus, come forth!”
I am Lazarus. You cried those words to him. You whisper them to me every morning. And you know what? I believe. Yes, I do believe. I trust you.
Trust.
HELP me! O God, bring your resurrection alive inside of me! Cause me to absorb life. I receive into myself your victory over death. Wash over me. Seep into the deepest place in my core. Jesus, may your victory over death penetrate my soul. Affect all that is me. Touch me. Write faith into my journey. Weave your love into my tapestry. Raise every part of me from the grave. Breathe into my thoughts, my attitudes, my dreams.
Awaken me. Fully.
Every morning you send forth the sun to overcome the night. All around me, your creation bursts out. All that is green grows. I want to burst up like that. I want to break through, to erupt with new life, to carry your resurrection into every circumstance, every conversation, every decision.
I am powerless. You are the resurrection and the life. I get it now. Inside out, I will overcome. I will emerge, arise, spring up and prevail. Yes, Easter is so much more than what I knew yesterday. Jesus, I’d always believed that you rose up that Sunday morning. Now there is even more. Easter is my celebration of you, and your gift to me. In you, because of you, from you, through you, I arise and overcome the world.
I will follow you. Take me anywhere. Over mighty peaks and across vast oceans. Through walls and over fences. Up, out, and beyond myself. My fears are swept away. Your courage is my light of day. Your VOICE is heard in me. Say again? I will outrun the storm. I will trample injustice. I will conquer the night. I will carry water and plant a garden in the desert. I am the light of the world.
He is Risen. I am risen.
For whatever is born of God overcomes the world. And this is the victory that has overcome the world – our faith. Who is he who overcomes the world? He who believes that Jesus is the Son of God. I John 5:4-5
The Raw Material for BeautyAn Essay on Suffering, Creativity and Hope
By Paul Richardson
This article is written in response to a recent tragedy. A friend ended his own life on Sunday morning, January 22, 2012. He was an artist.
Throughout history, the most enduring creative expressions are most often created within or just after moments of social upheaval, war, grief, chaos or disaster. It would be difficult to overstate this phenomenon. Consider the context in which John Milton penned his epic masterpiece Paradise Lost. “His son was dead, his daughters estranged, two marriages ended, his eyesight departed, his public image disgraced, his friends judicially murdered or fled into exile.” Miguel de Cervantes was the greatest novelist of his century. He was also enslaved for five years in Algiers. His life is described as “endlessly sorrowful and painful …” Aleksandra Solzhenitsyn was tortured, suffering for eight years in Soviet labor camps.
Victor Hugo was already a prolific writer when, in 1843, he lost his daughter in a drowning accident. He was so deeply affected by this tragedy that his pen remained silent for almost a decade. Something miraculous took place during those silent years. Hugo would come storming back with a new wave of poetry and writings that included Les Miserables, his masterpiece about the resurgence of hope that would secure him as one of the greatest French writers of all time.
I am fascinated by individuals who break through humanity’s usual barriers and limitations. As I have tried to understand the substance in their lives which lifts them to such creative heights, I am in awe at the numbers of them who encounter unusual pain and suffering when they are children. As a boy, for example, Charles Dickens labored in the grime of a paste blacking factory. Isaac Newton was abandoned by his mother at the age of three. J.S. Bach’s mother died when he was nine and his father followed her eight months later. Oscar Wilde’s little sister died unexpectedly at the age of eight. One study estimates that of eminently creative individuals, 28% lose their parents as children, in comparison with eight percent of the general population.
At the age of six, the novelist James Matthew Barrie, who wrote The Little White Bird and the successive stage play The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up, lost his brother David in an ice skating accident. It was described as a “catastrophe beyond belief” for his mother. Young James grew up in the fallout of her grief, often hearing her groan that her only happiness was found in the knowledge that her dead son would never grow up. James’ experiences would eventually rise through his pen to become Peter Pan, one of the most adored characters to ever grace the pages of children’s literature.
Consider the writer who swept our hearts and imaginations away into Narnia, showing us what it feels like to playfully romp with delight in the arms of Aslan? C.S. Lewis typed with creative magic. In what circumstance was that brilliance forged? When he was ten years old, his mother fell ill with cancer and slipped out of his world into eternity. Meanwhile his father sent him off to a boarding school. It wasn’t long before little Clive’s imagination rose on the wings of his grief. And in the process he would learn to awaken hope in the hearts of other children. The big-eyed delight in the eyes of every child reading of Narnia quietly originates in another child’s anguish.
Lewis wrote that God “whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, and shouts in our pains.” He called pain “God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Jean-Paul Sartre called suffering “the raw material for beauty.” From my perspective, there is an unmistakeable relationship between suffering and creative power. The secret of that power is not suffering itself, but the hope that is forged in the soul while suffering. Romans 5:3-4 explains this relationship. Hope is born in suffering, which produces perseverance, which gives birth to character, which blossoms into hope. By hope ἐλπίς, the Apostle Paul was not referring to the fast food flicker of optimistic euphoria that we sometimes associate with this word. Hebrews 6:19 says, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain …” Hope is the anchor of the soul. A soul empty of hope is anchorless in the raging, unpredictable and disappointing voyage through life. Hope is the joyful anticipation of the good while in the midst of a trial. Hope, by its very nature, cannot exist apart from pain.
Walking amidst this great crowd of humanity are the rarest of artists. They are the masters, who create life changing, breath taking works of art. Artistic talent alone is powerless to produce such masterpieces. Their art confronts us with an audacious faith in providence. Their creative expressions lift up our eyes and plant a resolve in our hearts to rise again. Whatever their genre of creativity, they simply cannot be ignored. None of us are ever quite the same after being confronted by their art forms. These are the great artists whose creative outflow is mysteriously illuminated with an enduring and radiant hope. Almost without exception, these individuals have been lifted up through some inferno of hellish darkness. On their ascent, they’ve snatched up a handful of hope, anchored it to their souls and carried it with them through life.
Hope is an enduring and confident determination that the sun will rise. Gentle light will melt the darkness into a soft gray, then slowly fill up the bedroom window. Soon the brilliant sun will sweep away the night, lighting up your tear stained pillow. The Voice of God is heard in the morning. “Oh, faithful one. Your beautiful soul is formed out of a collision between your pain and my life giving, creating words. The wreckage from these collisions form the textures by which I, the greatest of all artists create My masterpieces. See how you separate the curtains, push the windows wide open and feel the rushing breeze of a new day on your face. You will rise. You will most certainly turn your face toward the cold, biting wind and live again. Just as the radiant colors of dawn are born in the turmoil of light overcoming darkness, you will emerge through the blinding confusion of your ephemeral and seemingly chaotic nothingness.
Hope is a creative force that explodes from within us, casting light across the canvas. Ronald Lopez was a gifted artist. He did amazing things with his natural talents, and he was a master at painting murals. He was an advocate for artists, and his work touched many lives. I was inspired by what Ronald created in Istanbul. Apparently, his life more recently took a downward turn. I feel that I can relate. I know how it feels to wake up in the night, wondering if life is worth living. I know what it means to be tortured by fear, anxiety, guilt, self doubt and depression. And yet, without exception, after each night spent in the valley of the shadow of death, God has gifted me with a glorious sunrise. I suspect that God was forming in Ronald Lopez the raw materials for an explosion of beauty. His most creative gifts to humanity and God were most certainly in front of him.
No matter how blinding the night, no matter how disgraceful our failures may be, there is always, always, always a reason to wait for another day.
Hey Faith Activating Friends,
Here's part one of an interview with Paul Richardson which he recently did on the Canadian TV show, "100 Huntley Street." It's an interesting discussion on the backdrop on his dad's book, "Peace Child," redemptive analogies, his growing up years in Papua and how our culture tries to insulate us from all risk taking. Click above to watch.
By Faith Wilson
I was boarding my flight to Indonesia when a friend texted me, “You are on the brink of your future! What does it feel like?” She was right. I was in transition, stepping beyond yesterday’s norms and leaning over the forward edge. I was pressing on, exploring the unknown, actively writing a new chapter into my life story.
And yet as I buckled myself into my seat, I found myself thinking “Has there ever been a moment in my life when I was not on the brink of my future?” A song that we sang at my kindergarten graduation came to mind.
“He’s still workin’ on me,
to make me what I ought to be
to make me what I ought to be
He already made the moon and the stars,
The sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars
The sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars
How loving and patient He must be
Cuz He’s still workin’ on me.”
Cuz He’s still workin’ on me.”
As a little girl I often pondered the meaning of this song. I remember being so excited to grow up, and for God to someday finish “workin’ on me.” A pattern of thinking was born inside of me that said, “Someday when God is finished working on me, then he can use me!” Through the years I would often think about what God could possibly have dreamed up for my future. This always excited me, and I just couldn’t wait to get there, to arrive at my future.
Can you relate? Could it be that this way of thinking can neutralize our receptivity to what God is doing in us right now? We all have dreams of the future. We long for perfection. We hope and desire more. Someday … all of our experiences, painful moments, frustrations, and doubts will find their purpose. Someday, we hope, everything will converge into perfection.
On a trip overseas a couple of years ago, I received this encouragement from the Lord: Everything in your life up until now has prepared you for this moment. That word from God was precisely what I needed. However, with time I have come to realize that God makes the same promise every morning! God’s reassuring promise to me was not just true two years ago, or in the moment I boarded a flight to Indonesia this year. Rather, everything in my life has prepared me for today, and something will happen today as a part of God’s preparation for thousands of moments to come.
God has empowered you with everything you need to rise up and face the challenges of today; yet today’s greatest moments hold the limitless possibilities for tomorrow. Every day is a completion, and every day is a part of a work in progress. God has done a good work in you already, and there is still so much yet to be done. It is so exciting to know that He will, and is currently, choosing to use you despite your continuing status as “under construction”. Every moment is a culmination of all that God has created in you up to this moment, and a stepping stone toward what he will do in the future.
Isaiah 64:8, “… O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.”
Christmas 2011East Java, Indonesia
Awakened before dawn by the Islamic call to prayer, I rise out of bed, dress in the dark and tip-toe up the winding stairway to my rooftop balcony. My city rests in her cradle between three massive volcanoes. After awhile, the sound of the mosques’ chanting retreats back into silence, allowing me a few precious minutes to soak up the early morning.
A breeze stirs the damp clothes still hanging on the line. The wind rustles the leaves of a banana tree. I watch in wonder as the Creator begins to paint with light. Beyond the city limits, the slopes of stately Mount Semeru emerge from darkness. Pastels give way to the blazing sun, which rises in victory over the spirits of the night.
With the new day, people step out of their front doors to chase their ambitions. They haul their loads to market. A neighbor gets to work tiling the roof on his house. A young mother sings to her baby. A farmer’s rubber boots slosh through a muddy rice paddy. In every direction, activity fills the noisy streets and crowded alleys of this emerald green, rice terraced island.
Tomorrow is Christmas, and nobody around here seems to have any idea.
No tinsel, fake snow or glitter in shop windows. Nobody will rush out tonight to purchase one more present to stuff under the tree. As far as I know, Santa and his reindeer have never visited this place. It all used to bother me. But nowadays I have grown to prefer Christmas here. Something about it feels a bit more like that first night. Original, raw and earthy. Poor. The cry of a newborn baby rises in the darkness and drifts over a moonlit village. A teenaged mother groans in pain as her husband does his best to make her comfortable in a stable. The world outside goes on sleeping, unaware that the hope of humanity lies nearby in his mother’s gentle arms.
Jesus, Light of the World, You are my hope.
I celebrate the opportunity to carry your love into my city today. Thank you for the honor you have entrusted to me and my friends to live here. I truly, passionately, love serving here. Thank you for giving us a chance to open schools of hope in places where most children have never heard of Christmas. Thank you for the beautiful faces of these amazing kids in our schools and orphanages. I celebrate that You have a purpose and an amazing future waiting for them. Thank you for calling dedicated teachers to serve with Mustard Seed. Thank you for calling others back home to give so generously. Bless them today Lord Jesus. Fill their homes and hearts with your peace. Jesus, you are worth dying for, and the mission you have placed before us is worth living for.
Blessed be Your Name.
Am I nuts?
I hear voices.
They chatter through the day and worry me awake in the night. They mutter shame and murmer guilt. They invoke my deepest fears. They conjure negative emotions about people I love. Running off at the mouth, they lure me into timidity. Dampening my spirit, they rant impossibilities, and conjure up chickenheartedness. They pull me back away from the forward edge, drawing me into my past.
They annoy, badger, heckle, hound, and pester. They are always talking to me about me. Am I nuts? Of course I am. And so are you. I can hear the voices rattling around in your head too.
Yakkety yak.
There is a VOICE. He says, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore you will boast all the more gladly about your weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on you. That is why, for Christ's sake, you delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when you are weak, then I am strong.”
The chatter fades, and the VOICE rises within. Can you hear Him?
He is the VOICE of strength, courage and hope. His VOICE brightens, comforts, emboldens, energizes, fortifies, inspires, refreshes, restores, revitalizes, and strengthens. He is the whisper in the night, “Why is your soul downcast? Why are you so disturbed within? Put your hope in Me.”
He nudges my thoughts beyond myself. Beckoning me forward to the edge, He says, Trust Me. “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” He speaks clearly, saying that He is my help and my shield. He says that those who hope in Him will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
He is the VOICE of hope who fills me with all joy and peace as I trust in him, so that I may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. He tells me that I can do everything through Christ who gives me strength. The VOICE of the LORD will guide me always; he will satisfy my needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen my frame. I will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.
And when he brings out his own sheep, he goes before them; and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice.”
John 10:4
Josiah’s Eyes
What do I see when I see your eyes?
I see the pool where you lost your life
Enshrouded in a shimmering veil
Dead to the horror in your mother’s wail
I hear my voice calling to the One
O dear God, restore my son!
A pain so sharp I cannot breathe
Tears of fire trace my cheeks
I taste the anguish in my throat
A fog of grief swarms my soul
Hellish darkness, thick as night
And then I glimpse a glimmering light
The One is before me in glorious white
In agony I groan, come save his life!
He rises up and slowly comes near
And lifts me from the clutch of fear
God’s divine choice conquered the night
And carried my son from death into light
He breathed in you and set you free
To live and become all you will be
What do I see when I see your face?
A miracle, for your life is His grace
Our talks and laughter when you are near
All the more proof that God is here
What do I see when I see you smile?
Wisdom victorious, in its own time
Love and tenderness growing within
Destiny, purpose, the will to win
Here you are rising, from child into man
And in every battle, I know that you can
Find the will to endure, to overcome
I am so proud, for you are my son!
By Paul Richardson (on Josiah’s 13th birthday)
Photo by LauraRhoades.com
A decade ago, God moved in my heart to see Indonesian believers transformed in His love, equipped to be leaders, and empowered to become a force of influence for His Kingdom. From the beginning, the dream was to launch a school that would gift the world with world-changers. This school would become a laboratory where aspiring teachers would come from all over Indonesia to hone their teaching skills.
Our primary targets of influence were the arts, media, athletics, medicine, entrepreneurship and education.
Now all these years later, I pause and survey the landscape.
I recall the winding journey that God has carried us through. I’m astonished to see that our little school of 450 students has already produced kids who are aspiring to be filmmakers, actors, teachers, physicians and the like. A Charis student won the Indonesian version of American Idol. Another is a masterful jazz guitarist. Each year Charis students perform a Shakespeare play. Our students have created films that won national awards. A senior this year plays the leading role in a film called “Tendangan Dari Langit” (Kick From the Sky) which has been showing in theatres all across this country. One of our graduates recently came back on campus for a visit. I asked him what he is studying in college, and he replied, “biomedical engineering.” I asked a 9th grader to share her aspirations with me. She replied that she wants to be a journalist “… so I can someday be a voice of influence in the media.”
And so on.
Even more amazing to me, is the caliber and faith of the people God has brought together. Whether it is our generous donors, our faithful prayer warriors, teacher trainers and specialists, God is gathering together a group of peope with startling abilities and inspiring faith. Just last weekend, a donor gave thousands of dollars worth of instruments to our youth orchestra. God is on the forward edge, way out ahead of us, blazing the trail. He is the our leader and our recruiter. My main role in all of this is to envision, equip, empower and then get out of the way.
A few years ago it occurred to me that God had created everything that I had dreamed for, and more. He seemed to be saying, “Paul look around and see that everything you have asked for is before you. The only limits to what I will create are the size of your dreams.” Should I really be surprised to see what God is doing? No way! God has always revealed his creativity by imparting dreams, then weaving them into hearts, events and lives to become a living reality. Glory to God. "Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever, Amen!" Ephesians 3:20
Excerpt from interview by Janet Sullivan with Paul RichardsonWhat are the qualities of an effective leader?
In my perspective, leaders are people who are being drawn by something beautiful and tantalizing that awaits them in the future. Whether it be a prototype school, winning a championship, or experiencing a world without poverty, leaders surrender themselves to a cause greater than themselves. When others are caught by the same cause, they also take steps of faith to enter the battleground of creativity. In time, the vision becomes a movement. The movement materializes as the vision becomes reality. All along the catalyst of the movement is what I call a leader.
Many qualities combine to make effective leaders, but I feel that effective leadership is rooted in two primary qualities. These qualities are not often encountered together in the same person, but when they come together, they make the world’s greatest leaders.
First, leaders are not satisfied with the world, or some condition in the world, as it is today. There is a deep restlessness within, an angst, an urgency to engage the current circumstances and enact change or to bring about an effect. The actual source of this dissatisfaction is love, and love is more powerful than highly enriched uranium. The opposite of love is apathy. Love gives rise to an energy within, an urgency to remake the world. This desire to remake the world is the engine inside of a great leader. It is this quality which people sometimes refer to as “passion,” or “drive.” Jesus did not enter the villages of Palestine as a tourist. He was an activator. Wherever he went, he brought healing, transformation and hope. The lame walked, the sick were healed, and the blind could see. Jesus was a man on a mission. He most definitely was driven from within to see the world restored. Leaders who have this internal motor running are able to make great sacrifices on behalf of their cause, to step into the unknown, and lead others into the creative process in spite of great risk, potential suffering and loss. Very few people care about much of anything beyond themselves, their comfort, pleasure and safety. This is why true leaders are rare. Many appear to be leaders until they encounter resistance. Their primal instinct to survive overcomes love. Vision melts away under fire and the movement dies. Great leaders, however, are willing to be nailed to a cross on behalf of their cause.
Second, leaders have the quality of persuasiveness. People who accomplish great things alone are amazing, but they are not leaders. When Usain Bolt shattered the world record in the 100 meter sprint, he was not a leader. But when thousands of Jamaican children saw Usain Bolt run, then went outside and started running, Usain Bolt became a leader. This persuasiveness is not an external attractiveness or persona. Rather, there is a hope and faith within that inspires others, energizing a growing movement with a vision. Whether a leader’s persuasiveness is based in his or her expertise, knowledge, determination, experience, faith, hope, or love, when a leader speaks, people want to listen. The leader may not be “likeable” or have an extroverted persona, nevertheless there is something about or within that person which causes others to want to be around them, emulate them and follow them.
Other qualities come to mind. Effective leaders don’t take themselves too seriously. Effective leaders are great listeners, and are tuned in to how people are feeling. Effective leaders never panic. They stand up with confidence, clarity and faith in the midst of a crisis. Effective leaders embrace constructive criticism, and see the most difficult people around them as “editors,” rather than as “enemies.”
