Month: August 2018

Recently, I started binging a Netflix original called “I AM A KILLER.” Never thought I would start a blog post with that, but here we are.

This documentary series recounts the story of men who are sentenced to death row.  These men, their family members and friends, the victim’s family members, and other various investigators are all interviewed.  The last 5 minutes are given to the men, and they are allowed to view some of the interview footage from their own family and the victim’s family.  Their remorse and shame is heart-wrenching.

One man, tears streaming down his face, said:

“It breaks my heart to know that I will always be remembered for the worst thing I ever did.” 

He knew he was guilty.  He knew that he was undeserving of grace and freedom.  He had been labeled a murderer, and he would die being remembered as just that.

This man, who has spent over half his broken life in prison paying for his crime, are all of us.  We are guilty of the unspeakable.  On our Richter scale of sin, we may believe our bad hasn’t quite reached calamity-level destruction; yet, even the smallest quiver of wrong impacts and devastates.  We have been marked and known for our worst, and the world will always remember us for it.

But Jesus, friends.  JESUS.

I imagine Jesus walking into that man’s cell. I can see Him putting his gentle and mountain-moving hand upon his shoulder.  Looking straight into the face of Love, the guilty man hears Him say:

“I took care of it, friend.  My identity is yours now. Clean and clear.”

Jesus was given death row. Isn’t that strange to think? The sinless lamb was lead to the slaughter. Accused unjustly for crimes unspeakable to that region, he was given death.  And He went through with it.  He did it for the man on death row.  He did it for us.  He did it so that the world would have eternal hope and a new identity.  We are no longer called by what the world sees and hears.  We are called His own, without blemish, holy, and beloved.  How precious is that gift? If only we would take ahold of it.

Let’s stop condemning and cursing those who have lost their way.  Let’s walk into those cells and speak what is true; they are seen, known, and loved.  Because of Jesus, they are new creations, and He is calling them out of the grave.  

I first heard the Lord call me into the nations at a Passion conference when I was 17.  Classic, right? As the music swells, the hearts are bleeding, and the surrender is at its fullest, I said yes to the call. I had no idea what that even looked like, but it sounded exciting, and I was ready.

A few months later, I found myself in the Dominican Republic; a one-week trip that infected me with the “serving the nations” bug.  I vividly remember walking along a dirt road in my floral pink and green skirt, sweat dripping down my neck and dust caking my ankles.  Miserable with heat, yet something struck me deep, and I whispered: “I could do this for the rest of my life.”  Bold, maybe unprecedented words from an 18-year old kid.  I had no idea what I was talking about.  I had no idea what serving the nations actually looked like, but here I was, believing that I was going to do it.

This belief took me to application processes that would allow me to return to the DR for long-term service.  I was confident that’s where He wanted me.  However, doors were closing left and right, and it wasn’t happening. Something shifted in my heart, and suddenly I felt no peace.  Did I make a mistake?  Did I jump in too soon?  Was I just making all this up?

“Just wait.  You have to more to learn.” I heard Him say.

Fine.  So I went off to college to learn.  Boy, I’m glad I did (college is good, kids.  Go to college).

A year later, I was being prayed over by a brother in Christ.  He told me he had a Word from the Lord to give me.  Who am I to refuse?  So, I listened.  Every word aligned perfectly with my life circumstance, my heart, and my spirit. It was intense and good; however, his final words cut me to the quick and shut me down right then and there:

“Your call to serve the nations is from the Father, and I hear Him speaking China to you.”

Okay, yeah no.  That’s not happening.

 I was willing to go anywhere, but not China.  This man clearly misinterpreted what God wanted.  He was crazy.  All. Of. The. Nope.

Another year passed by, and I had left the thought of China stuck waaaaay back in the ignored spaces of my mind.  But it came back, and this time, I couldn’t ignore it.

I was fast asleep, and the Lord came to me in a dream.  I was holding a scroll (it’s a dream from the Holy One, so obviously it’s a scroll).  I had a list of countries on this scroll – a list that reached the very bottom.

“Where do you want to send me, Father?” I asked, skimming all the exciting places I would have loved to serve. Without hesitation, I heard His reply:

“Beijing.  I want you to go to Beijing.”

 When I woke up, I was stunned.  Was He actually serious?

“Alright Father, if you are serious, you have to make this happen. I don’t know anyone in China, and I won’t go looking, so you have to give me the connection.”

 Three weeks later, He did just that.

A new guy I was working with at my job asked me what I wanted to do when I graduated.

“Oh you know, I thought about doing overseas work – maybe teaching.  Africa… China… South America… who knows.” 

 “If you are serious about that, I have some connections with people who work overseas.” he said.

“Really? …Where…?” I knew what was coming.

“BEIJING.”

Dang it.

That summer I prayed harder than ever.  I wish I could say I prayed with a heart of complete love and surrender, but I prayed the “remove this cup from me” prayer.  All the while, I was growing more certain that China was exactly where He wanted me to be.  He was insistent, and I wanted what He wanted more than anything.

Another year later, I was on the flight to Beijing, completely afraid, completely unsure, and yet completely held in His perfect will.

After my return from one of the most incredible summers of my life, I sought His face about returning to China for good.  I didn’t have a burning bush dream or a prophet’s word; all I had was a choice and the longing to continue walking in His will.  So, I said yes again, and prepared to go back to China… this time, for a year.

That year of preparation and fundraising was hard and humbling, and yet I saw Him work in ways I couldn’t have dreamt possible.  The body of Christ came together on my behalf and loved me beyond what I could have asked for.  He kept me sane and whole because of the Beloved body.

When I left for China that second time, I left with confidence.  I knew this was exactly where He wanted me, and I couldn’t escape His immense pleasure. But the year I expected was not the year I received.  It was more. More dependence, more humility, more suffering, and more joy than I could have ever imagined.

But, that’s another good story…