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The Raw Material for Beauty (Revised)

Paul Richardson — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 00:32:14 +0000

The Raw Material for Beauty (Revised)

An Essay on Suffering, Creativity and Hope

This blog post is dedicated to a friend and an artist who ended his own life on Sunday morning, January 22, 2012. (My apologies to subscribers who receive this article twice. The following is a revised and edited version.)

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 have a fascination with 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.

Soil on Steroids

Mike O'Quin — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 03:32:14 +0000

One thing that continually amazes me, after calling Indonesia my home for the last 12 years, is how fertile the soil is on Java.

Fertile is actually an understatement. Active volcanoes pour their nutrient rich dust on the landscape year round and the rainy season drenches our island for about half the year, the result of which is dust and mud on the city streets and happy farmers in the rice paddies.

Other Asian countries get one or two rice growing seasons a year. Java gets three. No other place I know gets the benefit of so much equatorial sunshine, rain and minerals, the perfect recipe for wealthy and healthy soil.

The way farmers in villages make fences here (and I am not making this up) is to pound cut branches into the ground next to each other all down a row. Because of the unbelievably rich soil, new sprouts will grow out of these branches which intertwine with the other branches forming a thick, natural fence.

The trees grow tall and the landscape is lush and green, especially during the dripping wet rainy season. My sister, upon arriving in Indonesia for the first time on a visit, gawked at all the greenery surrounding her, which stretched upwards to the heavens and marveled, “Man, this place is like nature on steroids.”

Jesus, very familiar with farming, once told a story to spiritually illustrate how important welcoming soil is to growing seed. The story is only parable that shows up in all three Synoptic Gospels and here it is quoted in Luke chapter eight:

“The sower went out to sow his seed; and as he sowed, some fell beside the road, and it was trampled under foot and the birds of the air ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky soil, and as soon as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. Other seed fell among the thorns; and the thorns grew up with it and choked it out. Other seed fell into the good soil, and grew up, and produced a crop a hundred times as great.”[i]

The only variable in this story is the soil, and there are four types. The cool thing is we get to choose which kind of soil we will be. “The seed,” Jesus explained later to his confused disciples, “is the word of God.”[ii] It remains the same, powerful and constant, and will grow in any soil that will welcome it.

How is your soil today? Crusty, tough and dry? Open and inviting? If your soil is choked with the thorns of the “worries and riches and pleasures of this life,"[iii] as Jesus called them, it’s up to you to remove them. Get your soil in the drenching rain of His presence and let His words root deep into your heart. Your life will become more fertile than the soil of Java and will produce even a greater yield.

Lord, make the soil of my heart soft for You again. Please help me remove all the rocks and thorns that have covered it over for so long. Drench it with the rain of Your sweet mercy and let your Word go deep into the hidden places of my heart. Thank You that You make all things new. Make me new today Lord Jesus.

[i] Luke 8:5-8, NASB

[ii] Luke 8:11, NASB

[iii] Luke 8:14, NASB

Adrenaline Rush

Paul Richardson — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 22:03:39 +0000

By Faith Wilson

I stared up the towering wall of limestone before me. The thought of scaling it was daunting. I watched in awe as person after person in front of me carefully clung to seemingly invisible nooks and crannies that allowed them to slowly and steadily ascend the vertical mass.

It was my turn to step up to the challenge. First a foothold; then a grab. With each grasp of the rock I gained momentum and height, conquering that which had seemed impossible. My muscles began to burn. One step at a time. With a rush of adrenaline, I reached higher. The pressure increased. My hands were sweating, but there would be no turning back. It wasn’t just the top I anticipated–no–every clench was a shot of pain followed by a douse of joy.

Hanging over open space, I was tempted to look down. Instead, I stole a glance at the panorama that encircled me. Cascading rocks, puffing volcanoes and painted mountain peaks competed with the city skyline for my gaze. My God, my Savior, crafted this engaging masterpiece! My attention returned to the wall. To trust was to live. Fear would not overpower my heart. Moderation meant death. I could either cling on to the rock with every ounce within me, or plummet to the ground.

For me, this was the consummate adventure, and it reminds me of how I want to live. I want to climb the daunting, painstaking, unknown will of God. I want to trust his vision for each foothold, for each grab. I want to rise to greater challenges, allowing my muscles to burn as they grow character and gain strength. Rather than allow my fears to overwhelm me, I want to steal glances at God’s creativity. I will not be content waiting on the ground, overcome by yesterday’s limitations.

My soul echoes David’s cry, “Teach me to do your will, for you are my God.”

We stand looking up at another year. This year can only be lived once. Let’s climb mountains. Let’s surrender all to God this year. Let’s cling to him for every step, trusting him to carry us into the unknown. Let’s take risks and face uncertainty clinging to God in faith. There is no assurance that this year will be easy, but it all comes with a promise: “I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you.” (Is. 41:13)

Happy New Year!

You’re a Masterpiece … in Process

Paul Richardson — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 20:29:35 +0000

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

He already made the moon and the stars,
The sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars

How loving and patient He must be
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.”

The Hope of the World

Paul Richardson — Sun, 25 Dec 2011 08:27:11 +0000

Christmas 2011

East 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.

I Hear Voices in Your Head

Paul Richardson — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 05:45:07 +0000

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

For Josiah On Your 13th Birthday

Paul Richardson — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 23:21:53 +0000

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 13^th birthday)

Photo by LauraRhoades.com

Honor Your Adversary

Mike O'Quin — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 13:00:31 +0000

Honor is an affirmation that who someone is and what he contributes is valuable. Honor is not something that can be selfishly grabbed…it is bestowed. There is no such thing as self-honor. Honor is a choice, an act of the will given to someone else to recognize his or her valuable identity and contribution.

It’s easy to offer that honor to others when we feel good about them and about ourselves, maybe on a special occasion like a birthday, an awards banquet, or just strolling along enjoying a sunny day together.

But we know that’s not where we live most of the time. In the day-to-day grind, honor is tested when we have conflict with the valuable people in our lives, the very people we love and yet who sometime drive us nuts. How do you treat someone when they are blocking your goals? I had some conflict recently with a couple of people I love dearly. One was done well and one was done poorly. The difference was simply that in the first one I honored the person I was having conflict with, and in the second one I didn’t.

Psychologist James Coleman, studying unhealthy conflict way back in 1957, wrote about the way the pattern of escalation moves from the “the specific to the general.”[i] Instead of discussing the matter at hand, you hurl words at your opponent like “never” and “always.”

Researching marriage relationships for over 20 years, Drs. Howard Markman and Scott Stanley have identified four “relational germs” that destroy relationships (adapted from their book, “Fighting for Your Marriage”)[ii]:

1. Withdrawal during an argument

“I'm not talking about that any more, it's too hurtful.”

“I'll just leave the house if you continue talking about this. End of discussion; it's over.”

2. Escalating during an argument

“It's your fault that he talks to me like that, you're a great example!”

“Forget it then. Go out with your friends, see if I care! Stay out all night, you like them better than me anyway.”

3. Belittling each other during an argument

“That's the dumbest statement I have ever heard.”

“When will you ever get it right?”

4. Having exaggerated or false beliefs about your mate during an argument

"You don't see it do you? You're too negative and it's driving me away!"

"You say you're sorry, but you keep doing the same mean things over and over. You'll never change!"

All of these four relational germs are germinated in an attitude of dishonor. In Malcolm Gladwell’s fascinating book "Blink," he tells the story of John Gottman of the University of Washington who since the 1980’s has brought thousands of couples into his “love lab” and analyzed them while they had conflict. Over time he has become incredibly accurate at predicting if their relationship would end in divorce or not. In fact, he only needs to watch one 15-minute video clip of their interaction and can predict within 90% accuracy if they will be together in 15 years. Over time he honed that down to just three minutes of observation with still impressive accuracy, and now says he can overhear a couple an arguing in a restaurant and tell if they are doomed or not.

How does he do it? He doesn’t need to read the data from all the devices hooked up to the couples in his love lab. He only has to watch for one trait emerging in their conflict: contempt.

“You would think criticism would be the worst,” Gottman explained in an interview with Gladwell, “Yet contempt is qualitatively different from criticism. With criticism I might say to my wife, ‘You never listen, you are really selfish and insensitive.’ Well, she’s going to respond defensively to that. That’s not very good for our problem solving and interaction. But if I speak from a superior plane, that’s far more damaging, and contempt is any statement made from a higher level.”[iii]

Our conflict with those we love can easily go from bad to worse: through all four relational germs on down to the basement of contempt which of course is the most fraught with hazard. But what if we did the very opposite, took the higher ground before engaging in battle and verbalized to our opponent, “You are very important to me and I want to work this out!” What if we climbed up from the basement of contempt and had our conflict with those we love on the rooftop of honor?

In a previous post I’ve written about using a technique someone called the "Grace Sandwich” when you need to bring up something that has a high potential to deteriorate into unhealthy conflict. Before you get into the “meat” of the offence, you offer a slice of the bread of affirmation first: “I really love and value you and I want to bring up something that I think is hurting our friendship….” Then you get into the sensitive issue, and afterwards you follow-up with another slice of affirmation: “I’m so glad we were able to talk about this because I love you and I value our relationship. Thanks so much for hearing me out.”

Gary Smalley has written a whole book on this subject of how to engage in healthy conflict which I would highly recommend: “Secrets to Lasting Love: Uncovering the Keys to Life-Long Intimacy.”[iv] The entire book is basically a treatise on how to honor your spouse with lots of research and years of experience to back it up. The whole foundation of that book is that honor is a choice.

Honor in conflict has been extensively researched but is actually not a new idea. Take a peek inside the New Testament. The Apostle Paul wrote, “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.”[v] And Jesus is our ultimate example, the one who though He had every right to treat others with contempt from His superior plane as the Son of God. Yet He humbled himself and came to honor us from the lower place of a servant. If we are following Jesus, then we are bound to follow Paul’s admonition, “Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves.”[vi]

You are important! In fact, you are more important than me! I choose to honor you today (even though you have been driving me crazy). Forgive me for my harsh words. I love you and I want to work this out!

Choose to honor you adversary today.

Related Posts

This is the final article of a four-part series on honor. Previous posts:

Honor Part One: Preamble

Honor Part Two: Our Hearts’ Insatiable Appetite for Honor

Honor Part Three: Slowing Down to Honor Others

[i] James Coleman, “Community Conflict,” New York: Free Press, 1957.

[ii] http://www.growthtrac.com/artman/publish/the-four-relational-germs-736.php

[iii] Malcolm Gladwell, “Blink: the power of thinking without thinking,” Little, Brown and Company, 2005, pp 32-33

[iv] Gary Smalley and Norma Trust, “Secrets to lasting love: uncovering the keys to life-long intimacy,” Simon & Schuster, 2000

[v] Romans 12:10

[vi] Philippians 2:3

More Than All We Ask or Imagine

Paul Richardson — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 07:21:46 +0000

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 9^th 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

Glorious Whoa

Mike O'Quin — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 04:15:11 +0000

I’m attending some meetings in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia this week and while here I had a chance to visit K.L.’s most famous landmark, the gloriously tall Petronas Towers.

It brought back a memory from a few years ago when on the way to an international conference, our family and some teammates had 20 hours of transit time in this diverse city of Indian, Malaysian and Chinese cultures. We had just enough time to catch some sleep at a hotel near the airport, go into town for a meal, and get back to the airport in time to catch our flight.

The meal part excited me the most, because it was going to be a Tex-Mex meal, something that Texans living in Southeast Asia long for with all their Lone Star hearts. It had been at least two years since we had set foot inside a Mexican restaurant, and right smack dab in the middle of this sprawling Asian Metropolis rests an oasis of chips, salsa and fajitas: Chili’s Restaurant.

We were willing to splurge for the heavy taxi fare to get into town from the far-away airport and feeling pretty giddy en route. Ahead in the night light we could make out the city lights of K.L., and rising above them stood the gleaming Petronas Towers, which used to be the largest man-made structure in the world. The Chili’s is located in a large mall under those gargantuan sentries, which shone as a lighthouse of hope for our empty bellies that evening.

Before we entered the mall, my small children and I gaped at the Petronas Towers mega structure from the outside. They dominate the skyline at 1,483 feet, 88 stories of sheer bright height. I had seen pictures of these famous towers, of course, but standing next to these impossibly tall buildings took my breath away. I was stunned. I just couldn’t imagine anything man-made being so very…tall. Tall is a pathetic understatement. Bathed in bright light, these towers looked to reach all the way to heaven, like some kind of angelic Jacob’s ladder.

I invited my kids to lie down at the plaza in front of the towers and to look up and marvel with me. My embarrassed teammates with us that evening ducked out of sight under a portico as Malaysians walking through the plaza glanced at the strange family on the ground gawking unashamedly at their iconic emblem.

As I gazed upwards, something in my spirit stirred and I just had to shout out. I spontaneously lifted my hands and exclaimed loudly, “I glorify you, Petronas Towers!”

“Daaaaad,” my children on both sides of me whined their protest, as if I just uttered some Christian blasphemy in this conservative Muslim nation.

I said it again, louder, to make my point. “I GLORIFY YOU PETRONAS TOWERS!”

They protested again. “You can’t say that!” my daughter demanded, defending her 8-year-old theology.

Was my utterance that evening unabashed idol worship or something wholly and Biblically correct?

The sense of glory is experiencing something so amazing and humility-producing that you gape open your mouth and utter, “Whoa.” Then the only natural response is to turn to the guy next to you and say, “Do you see this? … Whoa.”

A New Testament dictionary, a little bit antiseptically, defines glory as “always a good opinion concerning one, resulting in praise, honor and glory.” Maybe when you hear the word glory you think of something stale and religious, stained glass window other-worldly chubby angelic kind of stuff. But true glory is worth getting excited about from the deepest place of you heart.

The Petronas Towers took my breath away that night, making me even forget my longing for fajitas (temporarily). After I caught my breath again, I had to exclaim my “good opinion” regarding it to the people next to me. I felt compelled to glorify those shiny beacons of light. I explained the theological semantics to the kids and they seemed to feel a little better. After that wonderful yet awkward experience we woofed down a lot of chips and salsa and my kids delighted in free Coke refills (something unheard of in Asia). A truly glorious evening.

When Jesus takes your breath away, when you really experience Him, like in those moments in worship when you are carried away to the very courts of heaven, something deep inside you wants to scream out: This one is worth knowing! I would gladly lay my life down for this King! Jesus you are everything to me!

Look up to heaven today, past the tallest man-made tower you could ever imagine. Connect with Jesus at a deep heart level, enough for Him to take your breath away. His Glory will call out to yours.

Whoa.