The purpose of peoples' stories in the Bible is not primarily for history's sake. They are there so that we can better see how God works despite the brokenness and sinfulness of man. They are there so that we can better see that God uses the humble rather than the "righteous." They are there so that we can say, "That's me."
Reading the climax of the Passover, Jesus' death, and the resurrection, I asked myself, "Who do I identify with?"
I want to be Mary the sister of Lazarus, understanding the death that Jesus was about to die and pouring a year of my life's wages on his feet and wiping them with humility and godly sorrow.
I want to be the widow who gave everything she had in the offering box, bringing not only her two small copper coins to God, but her whole heart.
I want to be the criminal on the cross, recognizing that Jesus was the Son of God and pleading for mercy.
I want to be Mary Magdalene, recognizing Jesus' voice when he calls her name at the site of the empty tomb, then going in faith to tell the rest of the disciples that he is alive.
But the truth is, I would not have acted like these people.
No. Instead. . .
I am Judas, criticizing Mary for wasting money because my heart desires worldly possessions far more than the incomparable treasure of the eternal Jesus Christ.
I am the rich, who give just enough money in the offering box to look good and feel content with themselves, keeping not only a drastic amount of money-- but also their hearts-- tucked safely away inside their purses.
I am the brothers, questioning Jesus about who will be greatest in the Kingdom with pride and arrogance right before he is about the walk the road of obedience of dying a criminal's death -- the greatest act of humility that this world will ever see.
I am the disciples, sleeping in the garden while Jesus is sweating blood in distress because he is accepting the cup of wrath from the Father.
I am Peter, standing a matter of yards away from where Jesus is standing and is about to go into the counsel to receive judgment, and I flat out deny to be one of his disciples.
I am the crowd, yelling "Crucify him!" because it is the socially acceptable and conform thing to do.
I am the criminal on the cross who mockingly asked Jesus not for the salvation of the soul, but of the body.
I am Thomas, refusing to believe that Jesus could have the power to conquer sin and death and rise from the dead.
And this is the very reason why he--for the joy set before him-- endured the wrath of the Father who he had been in perfect communion with from eternity past. He accepted the cup so that he could be in perfect communion with sick, ungrateful, self-righteous rebels like me for eternity future.
I killed Jesus. But He willingly laid his life down.
It's this truth that has the power to change my cold stone heart into a heart of beating, alive flesh.
It's this truth that has the power to open my eyes to the glory of God and fall on my face at the foot of the cross in wonder.
It's this truth that has the power to transform my life from the likeness of a Pharisee into the likeness of my Savior -- the suffering servant.
Friday, April 3, 2015
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
The story of the soul.
Blackness. For years.
The funny thing was that I never knew that I was in the darkness, because I didn't even know what light was. All I knew was that I was encased inside a dungeon of thick black scales, and when I looked down at myself, I was made of the same stuff. I didn't know how I felt about it, because I didn't even have the ability to feel.
In those days, I was able to faintly hear the sounds of the mind thinking, the mouth talking, music playing, and people laughing. Occasionally those things would cause sparks to cascade down the dark dungeon I was encased in and would land on my cold, stoney skin. But as soon as they met my scales, they would bounce off. However, in these moments I was the closest I ever came to "feeling" something. Those sparks were so real and alive that they could not help but send tiny shocks into my lifeless body. The "feeling" lasted only a split second before the sparks fell to the ground underneath me and laid there. Darkness continued to envelop me, because my dungeon was dark and scaly, and I was dark and scaly. It was dead, and I was dead.
A curious thing happened throughout those years. The sparks -- the "alive" stuff -- kept building up underneath me. It made the interior of my dungeon a little brighter. You might suppose that this is a cheerful thing, but in reality, it was not. All that it was accomplishing was helping me see and realize the dark state of my dungeon and my own dark state. It made me realize all the more that the sparks were alive, but I was utterly and hopelessly dead.
I didn't notice it at first, but it must have been happening for awhile. I initially noticed it because of the whisper I heard, followed by a tickling sensation. I examined myself and realized that instead of lying on the ground beneath me, a few sparks had started sticking to me. Once I noticed it, I was able to observe it happening. Some of the sparks that stuck to me were new ones -- the ones that cascades down into the dungeon. But some of them actually rose from the ground beneath me and attached to my flesh.
As more sparks started sticking to me, I became more perceptive to the whispers. They were saying words.
"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." ... "Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant" ... "Thus says the Lord God to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am Yahweh."
The frequency of the sparks sticking kept increasing. The more of them there were, the more I couldn't ignore them. In fact, they became quite overwhelming. They didn't just speak to me when they first landed on me; no, they continuously spoke to me as they clung to my flesh.
At first they caused a sensation that felt like a continuous, slight tingling. Then it started to sting. Then it started to sting even more. Quickly, it became an extremely painful experience. I constantly thought to myself that if this was what it felt like to "feel" and to "be alive" like the sparks, then I didn't want it. I utterly repulsed the thought of becoming alive. But the sparks wouldn't leave me alone. The words were drowning me. Gripping to me. They were encasing me and pressing into me. If I wasn't already dead, I probably would have died from the pain.
The pain became so intense that I literally could not bear it. In that moment, I found my voice. I yelled in agony. I screamed.
I was alive.
The pain stopped. I was bewildered. I looked at myself, and I became even more bewildered. I was no longer dark and scaly. No; I was completely composed of the sparks. My flesh was through and through made up of light. There was no darkness in me.
The dungeon started trembling around me. I realized that it was aware of my presence because of the flash of light. And I think... I was too real for the dungeon to handle. It could not ignore that I was alive. I can imagine that it didn't enjoy my light, because it had not experienced a change. It was still dark and dead around me.
Years passed, and my light continued to grow as more sparks -- more words -- were added to my flesh. I had never realized it when I was dead, but the scales of the dungeon would often fall on top of me. This wasn't a problem before because I was made up of the same stuff as it, but after I was made alive it was simply awful. It was especially bad right after new sparks were added to my flesh and I would dance around with joy like I often did. I don't think the dungeon liked the light that I was casting on it, so it would intentionally throw its scales on me.
At first I would have said that the worse part about the scales landing on me was that it made me feel dead again. I felt suffocated and it was harder to hear the words speak to me. Yet over and over, the words proved that they would prevail and dissipate the scales, especially when a new shower of sparks was sent down to me.
Once I realized this, a new "worst thing" about the scales took over: they made me grieve. I would weep when they landed on me, because it reminded me that the dungeon surrounding me was dead. I knew what it was like to be dead and not even know it. I realized that I was not the one in the "dungeon" at all, but rather the dungeon itself was in captivity. I was capable of feeling and freedom and having the words sink into my being -- but I knew that my dungeon did not experience these things. I kept hoping that the words would stick to its walls and make it alive, but it never happened. I was alive and it remained dead.
More years passed and my sorrow increased. But I was not left without hope; the words helped me in my grief. They caused me to have confidence that one day, the light would make even my dungeon alive.
"We ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies." ... "Behold, I am making all things new." ... "Surely I am coming soon."
The funny thing was that I never knew that I was in the darkness, because I didn't even know what light was. All I knew was that I was encased inside a dungeon of thick black scales, and when I looked down at myself, I was made of the same stuff. I didn't know how I felt about it, because I didn't even have the ability to feel.
In those days, I was able to faintly hear the sounds of the mind thinking, the mouth talking, music playing, and people laughing. Occasionally those things would cause sparks to cascade down the dark dungeon I was encased in and would land on my cold, stoney skin. But as soon as they met my scales, they would bounce off. However, in these moments I was the closest I ever came to "feeling" something. Those sparks were so real and alive that they could not help but send tiny shocks into my lifeless body. The "feeling" lasted only a split second before the sparks fell to the ground underneath me and laid there. Darkness continued to envelop me, because my dungeon was dark and scaly, and I was dark and scaly. It was dead, and I was dead.
A curious thing happened throughout those years. The sparks -- the "alive" stuff -- kept building up underneath me. It made the interior of my dungeon a little brighter. You might suppose that this is a cheerful thing, but in reality, it was not. All that it was accomplishing was helping me see and realize the dark state of my dungeon and my own dark state. It made me realize all the more that the sparks were alive, but I was utterly and hopelessly dead.
I didn't notice it at first, but it must have been happening for awhile. I initially noticed it because of the whisper I heard, followed by a tickling sensation. I examined myself and realized that instead of lying on the ground beneath me, a few sparks had started sticking to me. Once I noticed it, I was able to observe it happening. Some of the sparks that stuck to me were new ones -- the ones that cascades down into the dungeon. But some of them actually rose from the ground beneath me and attached to my flesh.
As more sparks started sticking to me, I became more perceptive to the whispers. They were saying words.
"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." ... "Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant" ... "Thus says the Lord God to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am Yahweh."
The frequency of the sparks sticking kept increasing. The more of them there were, the more I couldn't ignore them. In fact, they became quite overwhelming. They didn't just speak to me when they first landed on me; no, they continuously spoke to me as they clung to my flesh.
At first they caused a sensation that felt like a continuous, slight tingling. Then it started to sting. Then it started to sting even more. Quickly, it became an extremely painful experience. I constantly thought to myself that if this was what it felt like to "feel" and to "be alive" like the sparks, then I didn't want it. I utterly repulsed the thought of becoming alive. But the sparks wouldn't leave me alone. The words were drowning me. Gripping to me. They were encasing me and pressing into me. If I wasn't already dead, I probably would have died from the pain.
The pain became so intense that I literally could not bear it. In that moment, I found my voice. I yelled in agony. I screamed.
I was alive.
The pain stopped. I was bewildered. I looked at myself, and I became even more bewildered. I was no longer dark and scaly. No; I was completely composed of the sparks. My flesh was through and through made up of light. There was no darkness in me.
The dungeon started trembling around me. I realized that it was aware of my presence because of the flash of light. And I think... I was too real for the dungeon to handle. It could not ignore that I was alive. I can imagine that it didn't enjoy my light, because it had not experienced a change. It was still dark and dead around me.
Years passed, and my light continued to grow as more sparks -- more words -- were added to my flesh. I had never realized it when I was dead, but the scales of the dungeon would often fall on top of me. This wasn't a problem before because I was made up of the same stuff as it, but after I was made alive it was simply awful. It was especially bad right after new sparks were added to my flesh and I would dance around with joy like I often did. I don't think the dungeon liked the light that I was casting on it, so it would intentionally throw its scales on me.
At first I would have said that the worse part about the scales landing on me was that it made me feel dead again. I felt suffocated and it was harder to hear the words speak to me. Yet over and over, the words proved that they would prevail and dissipate the scales, especially when a new shower of sparks was sent down to me.
Once I realized this, a new "worst thing" about the scales took over: they made me grieve. I would weep when they landed on me, because it reminded me that the dungeon surrounding me was dead. I knew what it was like to be dead and not even know it. I realized that I was not the one in the "dungeon" at all, but rather the dungeon itself was in captivity. I was capable of feeling and freedom and having the words sink into my being -- but I knew that my dungeon did not experience these things. I kept hoping that the words would stick to its walls and make it alive, but it never happened. I was alive and it remained dead.
More years passed and my sorrow increased. But I was not left without hope; the words helped me in my grief. They caused me to have confidence that one day, the light would make even my dungeon alive.
"We ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies." ... "Behold, I am making all things new." ... "Surely I am coming soon."
Friday, February 13, 2015
My [Abridged] Story.
I'm calling this "my" story, but ultimately it is not about me. I am not the subject of the story. The God who rescued me from the depths of my brokenness is not only the author of my story, but the main character. All glory to him forever.
It all started on April 23, 1996. I entered this world alive, well, and breathing -- but the most important part of me -- my soul -- had not experienced its birth yet. My soul was dead. It would remain that way for nine years. If you had watched me grow up, it might be hard to tell. I was a little goody-two-shoes and my mom called me her "little Mexican jumping bean" because I was always dancing around, seemingly full of joy. I grew up surrounded with a godly family and under the teaching of an amazing church, but I didn't get it. I remember the summer of 2002 at VBS, I began to comprehend what sin was. My mind knew that I had a sin condition and Jesus was the only way to heal it, but this knowledge didn't take root in my heart.
The first really significant event in my life was the adoption of my little sister Samantha from China when I was six years old. My eyes were opened to several things:
1. The world is a lot bigger than I thought it was (being in the most highly populated cities in China for 3 weeks will tend to convince you of that).
2. The world didn't revolve around me (no longer being the baby of the family will tend to convince you of that).
Adoption wasn't glamorous. Don't get me wrong, it was awesome and I absolutely loved having a brand new sister. But my little sister throwing violent fits daily and my parents trying their hardest to love and parent her in the best way possible was hard. It was such a testimony to see my parents' endurance and sacrificial love. Although I didn't doubt their love for me or feel neglected by them, their challenging work of parenting her naturally led to me not getting as much attention as before. I was, in a sense, forced into independence and responsibility for myself. I lost the innocence of relying on my parents for everything. On the one hand, that was really good because it caused me to grow and mature. But on the other hand, I see the effects of this as an ongoing struggle in my life because I feel as if I always have to be strong and not rely on anyone except myself -- especially not my Father.
The next few years were relatively uneventful -- I lived the average life of a kid. But I began to notice something was wrong. Something was missing. The thing that ultimately drew me into relationship with my Creator and Savior was something that has repeatedly shaped my life:
Loneliness.
I distinctly remember the night that my nine-year-old self was trying to get to sleep and just couldn't. I crossed the hall to my sister's room and watched her sleeping soundly and began to cry. I went back to my room and laid in my bed, drowning in the grief of finally having my eyes opened to what has been true all my life -- I was alone. It didn't matter that I had amazing parents and siblings who loved me. It didn't matter that I had a great church and fun friends. No matter how great a community surrounded me, it was never good enough. It couldn't satisfy my soul. And I knew it at that moment. The Holy Spirit had invaded the house of my heart and cured me of my blindness so that I saw what a real hell-hole of a house I was actually living in. It was disastrously messy, broken, and dirty, but the worst part was that I was alone in all of it. I cried out from the depths of my heart for God to rescue me from the hell of myself. Over and over I repeated, "I need you, I need you."
Like a warm summer breeze, the Spirit washed over me and filled me with his presence and peace. I had lived nine years alone, but that night changed my life forever. Literally, forever. I have never been alone since then and I never will be alone for all of eternity.
Flash forward three years to the peak of my junior high years. It was during those years that I made the worst decision of my life -- I let insecurity reign in my heart instead of Jesus. There was no fruit of the Spirit growing. My life was defined by my longing for love and acceptance from everyone except God, and as an awkward homeschool kid, I ended up disappointed every day. I beat myself up about it. I set impossibly high standards for myself and desperately wanted to be wanted. I wanted to be popular. I felt so utterly alone again because I was running away from the only one who could satisfy me. My prayer life was dominated by selfish prayers about gaining friends and feeling happy again.
Then throw into the mix my brother's diagnosis. I vividly the morning I woke up and my mom told me that Ethan went to the ER in the middle of the night. His pain that he had been experiencing for several months had finally overcome him. My mom left for the hospital and the rest of us kids were left at home, waiting and wondering all day what was happening. When my mom finally came home that night, I met her right in the laundry room as she walked in from the garage. She was crying, and as I hugged her, she simply said, "He has leukemia."
That was the beginning of a long, hard road. I basically lived in a single-parent home for several months as my parents traded off going back and forth to St. Jude Hospital in Memphis, TN where my brother was being treated. I was scared and confused. I didn't understand why this was happening to our family. My soul was in constant agony, especially the beginning few weeks. But it was in the depths of my despair that God finally broke through to me because I didn't have the strength to run away from his work anymore. The only thing I could do was lay broken at his feet and cry out for God to be present in my life and in my brother's situation. Every day, God drew me closer and closer to his heart. In my sorrow and confusion, he was present and provided supernatural peace and faith that he had it all under control.
I don't think I've ever had sweeter fellowship with God or knowledge of his presence than during that time. God was so present. He constantly cared for my soul. He loved me, comforted me, and gave me hope. And I was actually able to accept these gifts that he gave me because I was so overwhelmingly brokenhearted that I had no strength to resist them. It was beautiful.
I am so incredibly thankful that God healed my brother of cancer and life returned to a somewhat normal state. However, it was dangerous. I got my strength back. I stopped depending on God. I became independent once again. I started building walls. I started running away. I started seeking acceptance in other people again. And this time, I actually succeeded. I started going to Christian school and I "got in" with the cool crowd. People liked me. I was happy. . . but I wasn't. I always wanted more. A little more popularity. A little more approval. I was never satisfied.
High school meant a lot of change. My whole friend group left to go to public school. I felt God calling me back. I had compartmentalized him to a secluded part of my life and heart. He wasn't Lord of my life and his peace wasn't reigning in my heart -- but he was fighting for me. It was a slow process of gradual surrender that finally peaked my sophomore year. I fell desperately in love with the Lord through taking a trip to Guatemala and seeing the beauty of his world. We were also studying the book of Romans in class, and the gospel started invading my heart in a way it never had before. I was hungry for the Word and God was actively renewing my heart. There was a period of about a month when I felt closer to God than I ever have in my entire life. I remember belting out worship songs on my way to school and my heart overflowing with an overwhelming love for my Father. It seemed like thankfulness and prayer came as naturally to me as exhaling.
But of course, that changed. God wasn't content to let me stay in my bliss, because he wanted me to grow. He wanted me to have faith in him even when times were hard or even when it felt like he wasn't there. I began to live in a weird paradox where I have had "mountains and valleys," but at the same time, I didn't. Because the longer I walk with God, the more my path becomes straight. My faith becomes more anchored despite how "close" I feel to God or what my circumstances are around me. There have definitely been periods of time when I would refuse God's work in my heart and grow distant from him, but he has continually faithful to bring me back. I would pursue things other than him and find my identity in other places, but he would bring me to my knees and remind of my need for him. I had many periods of guilt where I knew I should be seeking him but wasn't, and he would constantly remind me that his love was not contingent on whether or not I loved him back. He would lavish his love and grace on me when I didn't deserve it. He would reveal my brokenness and sinfulness to me in a new way but fill me with so much assurance that Jesus' blood has paid for it all.
And now. . . college. To be honest, there hasn't been anything magical about this new stage of life. Of course I have learned so much and I've had a great amount of growth since the beginning of the year, but the daily struggle of faith and repentance has continued, just the same. I still try to find my acceptance in things other than him. I still often reject his love. However, the Spirit has a grip on my heart and he won't let me go. He secures my belief in the gospel just a little bit more continually, and I know that I can freely come into the throneroom of grace because my brokenness no longer defines me -- my identity is that I am a child of God. I am accepted by God because of the righteousness of Christ. My soul was bought with a price and I am free. I am loved and will never be alone because he is with me always, quieting and satisfying my soul. The Great "I Am" lives with me and within me.
"The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance. . .
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
-Psalm 16:5-6; 11
It all started on April 23, 1996. I entered this world alive, well, and breathing -- but the most important part of me -- my soul -- had not experienced its birth yet. My soul was dead. It would remain that way for nine years. If you had watched me grow up, it might be hard to tell. I was a little goody-two-shoes and my mom called me her "little Mexican jumping bean" because I was always dancing around, seemingly full of joy. I grew up surrounded with a godly family and under the teaching of an amazing church, but I didn't get it. I remember the summer of 2002 at VBS, I began to comprehend what sin was. My mind knew that I had a sin condition and Jesus was the only way to heal it, but this knowledge didn't take root in my heart.
The first really significant event in my life was the adoption of my little sister Samantha from China when I was six years old. My eyes were opened to several things:
1. The world is a lot bigger than I thought it was (being in the most highly populated cities in China for 3 weeks will tend to convince you of that).
2. The world didn't revolve around me (no longer being the baby of the family will tend to convince you of that).
Adoption wasn't glamorous. Don't get me wrong, it was awesome and I absolutely loved having a brand new sister. But my little sister throwing violent fits daily and my parents trying their hardest to love and parent her in the best way possible was hard. It was such a testimony to see my parents' endurance and sacrificial love. Although I didn't doubt their love for me or feel neglected by them, their challenging work of parenting her naturally led to me not getting as much attention as before. I was, in a sense, forced into independence and responsibility for myself. I lost the innocence of relying on my parents for everything. On the one hand, that was really good because it caused me to grow and mature. But on the other hand, I see the effects of this as an ongoing struggle in my life because I feel as if I always have to be strong and not rely on anyone except myself -- especially not my Father.
The next few years were relatively uneventful -- I lived the average life of a kid. But I began to notice something was wrong. Something was missing. The thing that ultimately drew me into relationship with my Creator and Savior was something that has repeatedly shaped my life:
Loneliness.
I distinctly remember the night that my nine-year-old self was trying to get to sleep and just couldn't. I crossed the hall to my sister's room and watched her sleeping soundly and began to cry. I went back to my room and laid in my bed, drowning in the grief of finally having my eyes opened to what has been true all my life -- I was alone. It didn't matter that I had amazing parents and siblings who loved me. It didn't matter that I had a great church and fun friends. No matter how great a community surrounded me, it was never good enough. It couldn't satisfy my soul. And I knew it at that moment. The Holy Spirit had invaded the house of my heart and cured me of my blindness so that I saw what a real hell-hole of a house I was actually living in. It was disastrously messy, broken, and dirty, but the worst part was that I was alone in all of it. I cried out from the depths of my heart for God to rescue me from the hell of myself. Over and over I repeated, "I need you, I need you."
Like a warm summer breeze, the Spirit washed over me and filled me with his presence and peace. I had lived nine years alone, but that night changed my life forever. Literally, forever. I have never been alone since then and I never will be alone for all of eternity.
Flash forward three years to the peak of my junior high years. It was during those years that I made the worst decision of my life -- I let insecurity reign in my heart instead of Jesus. There was no fruit of the Spirit growing. My life was defined by my longing for love and acceptance from everyone except God, and as an awkward homeschool kid, I ended up disappointed every day. I beat myself up about it. I set impossibly high standards for myself and desperately wanted to be wanted. I wanted to be popular. I felt so utterly alone again because I was running away from the only one who could satisfy me. My prayer life was dominated by selfish prayers about gaining friends and feeling happy again.
Then throw into the mix my brother's diagnosis. I vividly the morning I woke up and my mom told me that Ethan went to the ER in the middle of the night. His pain that he had been experiencing for several months had finally overcome him. My mom left for the hospital and the rest of us kids were left at home, waiting and wondering all day what was happening. When my mom finally came home that night, I met her right in the laundry room as she walked in from the garage. She was crying, and as I hugged her, she simply said, "He has leukemia."
That was the beginning of a long, hard road. I basically lived in a single-parent home for several months as my parents traded off going back and forth to St. Jude Hospital in Memphis, TN where my brother was being treated. I was scared and confused. I didn't understand why this was happening to our family. My soul was in constant agony, especially the beginning few weeks. But it was in the depths of my despair that God finally broke through to me because I didn't have the strength to run away from his work anymore. The only thing I could do was lay broken at his feet and cry out for God to be present in my life and in my brother's situation. Every day, God drew me closer and closer to his heart. In my sorrow and confusion, he was present and provided supernatural peace and faith that he had it all under control.
I don't think I've ever had sweeter fellowship with God or knowledge of his presence than during that time. God was so present. He constantly cared for my soul. He loved me, comforted me, and gave me hope. And I was actually able to accept these gifts that he gave me because I was so overwhelmingly brokenhearted that I had no strength to resist them. It was beautiful.
I am so incredibly thankful that God healed my brother of cancer and life returned to a somewhat normal state. However, it was dangerous. I got my strength back. I stopped depending on God. I became independent once again. I started building walls. I started running away. I started seeking acceptance in other people again. And this time, I actually succeeded. I started going to Christian school and I "got in" with the cool crowd. People liked me. I was happy. . . but I wasn't. I always wanted more. A little more popularity. A little more approval. I was never satisfied.
High school meant a lot of change. My whole friend group left to go to public school. I felt God calling me back. I had compartmentalized him to a secluded part of my life and heart. He wasn't Lord of my life and his peace wasn't reigning in my heart -- but he was fighting for me. It was a slow process of gradual surrender that finally peaked my sophomore year. I fell desperately in love with the Lord through taking a trip to Guatemala and seeing the beauty of his world. We were also studying the book of Romans in class, and the gospel started invading my heart in a way it never had before. I was hungry for the Word and God was actively renewing my heart. There was a period of about a month when I felt closer to God than I ever have in my entire life. I remember belting out worship songs on my way to school and my heart overflowing with an overwhelming love for my Father. It seemed like thankfulness and prayer came as naturally to me as exhaling.
But of course, that changed. God wasn't content to let me stay in my bliss, because he wanted me to grow. He wanted me to have faith in him even when times were hard or even when it felt like he wasn't there. I began to live in a weird paradox where I have had "mountains and valleys," but at the same time, I didn't. Because the longer I walk with God, the more my path becomes straight. My faith becomes more anchored despite how "close" I feel to God or what my circumstances are around me. There have definitely been periods of time when I would refuse God's work in my heart and grow distant from him, but he has continually faithful to bring me back. I would pursue things other than him and find my identity in other places, but he would bring me to my knees and remind of my need for him. I had many periods of guilt where I knew I should be seeking him but wasn't, and he would constantly remind me that his love was not contingent on whether or not I loved him back. He would lavish his love and grace on me when I didn't deserve it. He would reveal my brokenness and sinfulness to me in a new way but fill me with so much assurance that Jesus' blood has paid for it all.
And now. . . college. To be honest, there hasn't been anything magical about this new stage of life. Of course I have learned so much and I've had a great amount of growth since the beginning of the year, but the daily struggle of faith and repentance has continued, just the same. I still try to find my acceptance in things other than him. I still often reject his love. However, the Spirit has a grip on my heart and he won't let me go. He secures my belief in the gospel just a little bit more continually, and I know that I can freely come into the throneroom of grace because my brokenness no longer defines me -- my identity is that I am a child of God. I am accepted by God because of the righteousness of Christ. My soul was bought with a price and I am free. I am loved and will never be alone because he is with me always, quieting and satisfying my soul. The Great "I Am" lives with me and within me.
"The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance. . .
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
-Psalm 16:5-6; 11
Monday, December 29, 2014
28 things I learned in 2014.
2014 has been a big year. There's been a lot of change. There's been a lot of growth. Between my last semester at Cornerstone, my trip to South Africa & Zimbabwe, my summer, and my first semester at Cedarville University, I've learned a lot about myself.
I learned that I......
1. Don't hate every kind of tea. I like two kinds: African roiboos and peach green.
2. Am able to run more than two miles. (I see you laughing. Stop. This is an accomplishment for me.)
3. Am really bad at Greek grammar. I survived that class by memorizing vocab and making educated guesses.
4. Can survive hours out in the blazing sun in a line full of budging people trying to cross the border from South Africa to Zimbabwe.
5. Can survive sleeping on a floor covered with black beetles.
6. Can survive living in a tent, collecting our own water and firewood, and having no communication with the outer world.
7. Can survive an African red wasp sting (Seriously...I have never been stung by anything in my life and I had no clue if I was allergic. So of course the first time I get stung is in the middle of the wilderness of Zimbabwe.)
8. Can survive walking to a long-drop toilet -- also the popular hang-out place of several bats -- in the pitch black. (Obviously Africa taught me that I can survive a lot of things...)
9. Still hate fish. Especially when I'm eating them complete with their scales and eyeballs.
10. Don't like lamb intestine. No surprise there. (These things were also courtesy of Africa.)
11. Am very small. Laying on top of a mountain and seeing millions of stars complete with the Milky Way coloration will put you in your rightful place.
12. Can fake being confident while giving a speech to the Head of School, Director of Development, Upper School Principal, Lower School Principal, and Spiritual Life Director. And then come up with on-the-spot answers to their questions. (My heart still beats a little fast when I think about it.)
13. Know some generous people. Graduation was like Christmas on steroids. Times one hundred.
14. Am not very good at making face masks. There might have been an incident where oatmeal and honey ended up all over the floor...and it wasn't even my floor. This was supposed to be a "fun babysitting activity"...
15. Must be doomed to go to school out in the middle of cornfields. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.
16. Thought I lived in the windiest state. Until I moved to Ohio.
17. Can never seem to escape smelling like Chuck's. (No, I'm not talking about a person. That's what Cedarville's cafeteria is called.)
18. Can eat cereal for dinner and nobody actually cares. And regardless of whether they cared or not, I can do what I want.
19. Am able to live in a dorm room the size of a large closet. WHILE sharing it with someone else.
20. Need to set more than two alarms each morning. There might possibly have been times that I missed my 8 AM class.....buuuuut I still got an A, so how much does it really matter?
21. Never remember how long to cook Ramen or popcorn (that popcorn button is deceptive...I thought I could trust it, but of course it burnt my food). So sticky notes on the microwave are a necessary thing.
22. Got a really great education from my high school. Even though I'm going to a rigorous university, the classes have seemed pretty easy so far (although they take a LOT of time).
23. Can operate for 18 hours after having only 4 hours of sleep the night before. And those 18 hours can consist of taking a final and getting a 97% on it, moving all of my belongings from one dorm room to another, setting up all my stuff, and actually having coherent conversations with people.
24. Need Jesus. A lot. This year has definitely humbled me and made me aware of my brokenness at a much deeper level than any other year.
25. Still struggle with so much idolatry and self-centeredness. But God has been faithful not just to reveal my sin, but also to show me that his grace is sufficient and he is more beautiful than anything else my heart could desire.
26. Am secure. My identity is wrapped up in who God is and who he declares me to be -- his beloved daughter.
27. Can trust my Father. He is so much bigger and more sovereign than I could ever imagine, and yet he is so much more personal and loving than I could ever imagine.
28. Have a lot more learning and growing to do. 2015 is going to be another big year!
Thursday, December 25, 2014
The first step.
I'll admit it. It's hard for me to even begin to wrap my mind around the story of Christmas. I mean, honestly, it is a really absurd story if you truly think about it.
The same God who created the entire universe subjected himself to coming to earth as a little baby? Born in a manger? As a nobody in society? It's crazy.
But the thing is, the "craziness" of the story is what actually makes it infinitely beautiful.
We talk about Jesus's act of going to the cross as the ultimate example of humility, but that was just the culminating last step in his journey. Each step that brought him closer to the cross required sacrifice. Especially the first step. And Christmas is all about that first step.
Think about it this way -- pretend you've already died and gone to heaven. You're in perfect fellowship with God, being filled with immeasurable joy and peace in his presence as you behold the fullness of his glory before your very eyes. It's so much better than you ever could have imagined -- your experience of God's presence is like plunging into and exploring the depths of the ocean, whereas on earth it was as if you were playing in a kiddie pool.
So there you are in heaven, fully content and fulfilled, and God asks you a question. "Will you leave heaven behind and instead go to the broken, sinful earth? Will you enter the world as a helpless baby, not even capable of comprehending the words that people are saying around you? Will you grow up living a lowly life, learning from your father how to carve wood? Will you live a life of ministry, forsaking your family and having no home? Will you spend the last 3 years of your life teaching and healing needy and sick people who will constantly bombard you when you are famished and sleep-deprived? Will you disciple twelve men, only to be betrayed by one of them so that you are unjustly arrested? Will you be forsaken by the crowds and condemned to a humiliating death on a cross? Will you be spat on, beaten, mocked, and then carry your cross to a hill where you will be in excruciating pain for 3 hours before you die a shameful death?
Will you leave my presence where you have fullness of joy, and instead live a life full of sorrow? And will you do it simply to save the lives of the very people who forsook you, spat on you, beat you, and mocked you?"
The main point of Christmas is that Jesus willingly chose to live life in reverse. From before the foundation of the world, He lived life in perfect harmony with the Father and the Spirit, in fullness of life -- but then he decided to descend into time and space to enter a broken, twisted, messed up world. He knew full well that he would be tempted, suffer, and be forsaken by sinners who he came to save. But being disowned by humans was nothing in comparison to who else he knew would disown him.
Leaving heaven was just the beginning of Jesus' departure from the perfect unity of the trinity. Coming to earth was his first step towards the cross, where the unity would be completely broken and his Father would forsake him. Jesus knew that at that time, the Father would withdraw the fullness of his love and instead pour out the fullness of his wrath. Yet that did not stop Jesus from coming.
He literally gave it all away. There was nothing that Jesus didn't have. Yet there was nothing that Jesus didn't freely surrender.
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." - Philippians 2:5-8
The same God who created the entire universe subjected himself to coming to earth as a little baby? Born in a manger? As a nobody in society? It's crazy.
But the thing is, the "craziness" of the story is what actually makes it infinitely beautiful.
We talk about Jesus's act of going to the cross as the ultimate example of humility, but that was just the culminating last step in his journey. Each step that brought him closer to the cross required sacrifice. Especially the first step. And Christmas is all about that first step.
Think about it this way -- pretend you've already died and gone to heaven. You're in perfect fellowship with God, being filled with immeasurable joy and peace in his presence as you behold the fullness of his glory before your very eyes. It's so much better than you ever could have imagined -- your experience of God's presence is like plunging into and exploring the depths of the ocean, whereas on earth it was as if you were playing in a kiddie pool.
So there you are in heaven, fully content and fulfilled, and God asks you a question. "Will you leave heaven behind and instead go to the broken, sinful earth? Will you enter the world as a helpless baby, not even capable of comprehending the words that people are saying around you? Will you grow up living a lowly life, learning from your father how to carve wood? Will you live a life of ministry, forsaking your family and having no home? Will you spend the last 3 years of your life teaching and healing needy and sick people who will constantly bombard you when you are famished and sleep-deprived? Will you disciple twelve men, only to be betrayed by one of them so that you are unjustly arrested? Will you be forsaken by the crowds and condemned to a humiliating death on a cross? Will you be spat on, beaten, mocked, and then carry your cross to a hill where you will be in excruciating pain for 3 hours before you die a shameful death?
Will you leave my presence where you have fullness of joy, and instead live a life full of sorrow? And will you do it simply to save the lives of the very people who forsook you, spat on you, beat you, and mocked you?"
The main point of Christmas is that Jesus willingly chose to live life in reverse. From before the foundation of the world, He lived life in perfect harmony with the Father and the Spirit, in fullness of life -- but then he decided to descend into time and space to enter a broken, twisted, messed up world. He knew full well that he would be tempted, suffer, and be forsaken by sinners who he came to save. But being disowned by humans was nothing in comparison to who else he knew would disown him.
Leaving heaven was just the beginning of Jesus' departure from the perfect unity of the trinity. Coming to earth was his first step towards the cross, where the unity would be completely broken and his Father would forsake him. Jesus knew that at that time, the Father would withdraw the fullness of his love and instead pour out the fullness of his wrath. Yet that did not stop Jesus from coming.
He literally gave it all away. There was nothing that Jesus didn't have. Yet there was nothing that Jesus didn't freely surrender.
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." - Philippians 2:5-8
Monday, December 1, 2014
The biggest lie we believe.
My sin separates me from God. Even though I have received salvation, my sin is a barrier to my relationship with God. I need to live a righteous, holy life so that I can stay in fellowship with God. When I fail, I better spend a lot of time in the Word and in prayer to make it up to God and get back on his good side. It might also help if I also feel extremely guilty and make promises to God about how I'm committing to stop sinning. Maybe then, the perpetual disappointment he has when he looks at me will be somewhat appeased.
LIE.
Paul was not kidding around when he said, "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." (Rom 8:1)
No condemnation. NONE.
Christ paid for every single sin on the cross. Nothing we can do will ever surprise God. He knows everything we have done and everything we will do from before our birth till after our death.
Paul was also not kidding around when he said "[Nothing] in all of creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Rom 8:31)
Because of Christ's sacrifice on the cross, the curtain of separation between us and God was torn in two. We have full, complete access to fellowship with the Father. Nothing we can do will ever be able to separate us from his acceptance and love for us.
Because he is not surprised by our sin, he is also not disappointed in our sin. Of course he desires for us not to sin because he knows the destruction that it brings in our lives and he knows the life and freedom that a righteous life offers. But no matter how much we fail, his attitude towards us is always 100% delight. This is because his view of us is not based on our lives, but rather it is based on Christ's perfect life. Christ exchanged his righteous record for our sinful record on the cross, which means that no matter how much we sin, God sees nothing but a sinless life in our place.
Let's stop denying God his power. He conquered sin and death on the cross, which defeated our sin once and for all. He has also placed his Spirit in us -- the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. When we bask in our guilt, we are elevating our sin to a position above the Spirit in our hearts. When we continue in habitual sin, we are saying to God, "I don't believe that you can really help me overcome this. My sin is too big." But God has empowered us through the Spirit to stop sinning and instead live for his glory.
Therefore, our sin does not separate us from God because he already knows about it, he already paid for it on the cross, and he already has given us the means to overcome it by the Spirit.
What would our lives look like if we truly believed that God loves us and delights in us continually? What if we laid down our heavy burdens of guilt, shame, and fear at the foot of the cross and instead danced and sang for joy because of the freedom that we ALREADY HAVE in Christ?
There would be no time to sin if our lives were instead consumed by worship.
Let's stop believing the lie and instead start believing in God's power.
{Disclaimer: I am not saying that our sin does not in any way affect our relationship with God. Although I wholeheartedly believe that God's attitude toward us can never change due to our sin, I definitely believe that our attitude towards God is greatly affected by our sin. Sin does damage our relationship with God because sin is an action of turning away from God and turning towards something else -- or in other words, sin is an act of rejection (on OUR part) of the fellowship that God is willingly offering us.}
LIE.
Paul was not kidding around when he said, "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." (Rom 8:1)
No condemnation. NONE.
Christ paid for every single sin on the cross. Nothing we can do will ever surprise God. He knows everything we have done and everything we will do from before our birth till after our death.
Paul was also not kidding around when he said "[Nothing] in all of creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Rom 8:31)
Because of Christ's sacrifice on the cross, the curtain of separation between us and God was torn in two. We have full, complete access to fellowship with the Father. Nothing we can do will ever be able to separate us from his acceptance and love for us.
Because he is not surprised by our sin, he is also not disappointed in our sin. Of course he desires for us not to sin because he knows the destruction that it brings in our lives and he knows the life and freedom that a righteous life offers. But no matter how much we fail, his attitude towards us is always 100% delight. This is because his view of us is not based on our lives, but rather it is based on Christ's perfect life. Christ exchanged his righteous record for our sinful record on the cross, which means that no matter how much we sin, God sees nothing but a sinless life in our place.
Let's stop denying God his power. He conquered sin and death on the cross, which defeated our sin once and for all. He has also placed his Spirit in us -- the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. When we bask in our guilt, we are elevating our sin to a position above the Spirit in our hearts. When we continue in habitual sin, we are saying to God, "I don't believe that you can really help me overcome this. My sin is too big." But God has empowered us through the Spirit to stop sinning and instead live for his glory.
Therefore, our sin does not separate us from God because he already knows about it, he already paid for it on the cross, and he already has given us the means to overcome it by the Spirit.
What would our lives look like if we truly believed that God loves us and delights in us continually? What if we laid down our heavy burdens of guilt, shame, and fear at the foot of the cross and instead danced and sang for joy because of the freedom that we ALREADY HAVE in Christ?
There would be no time to sin if our lives were instead consumed by worship.
Let's stop believing the lie and instead start believing in God's power.
{Disclaimer: I am not saying that our sin does not in any way affect our relationship with God. Although I wholeheartedly believe that God's attitude toward us can never change due to our sin, I definitely believe that our attitude towards God is greatly affected by our sin. Sin does damage our relationship with God because sin is an action of turning away from God and turning towards something else -- or in other words, sin is an act of rejection (on OUR part) of the fellowship that God is willingly offering us.}
Monday, November 10, 2014
His Sacrifice for Steadfastness.
You know what's dumb? I say that I believe that the Word of God is living and active, yet when I read it, I don't come to it with the expectation that it will really, truly change me. But of course the Holy Spirit lavishes his grace on me despite my stupidity and lack of reverence. So of course on a normal night in my college dorm room, the Holy Spirit hit my unsuspecting soul like a bus. Of course the Holy Spirit opened my eyes to the things I've known, but not truly known. Of course the Holy Spirit changed me when I least suspected it to display his power and glory.
Before I jump into the verses God used to teach me, here's the context of the passage:
God made a covenant with David that his son (Solomon) would built a house for the Lord (the temple). After Solomon builds it and the Shekinah glory of God enters as a cloud and rests in the Holy Place, this is Solomon's prayer:
"O Lord, God of Israel, there is no God like you, in heaven above or on earth beneath, keeping covenant and showing steadfast love to your servants who walk before you with all their heart. . .
But will God indeed dwell on earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built!"
-1 Kings 8:23, 27
This is a big deal. Solomon says that not even the highest heaven can contain the glory of God, yet God chooses to dwell in a tiny, fragile house built by human hands.
He chooses to be present with the people of Israel even though they are constantly grumbling, complaining, and running away from him.
He dwells among the people of Israel simply because he chose to and he cannot contain his steadfast love for them.
He has made a covenant to be faithful to Israel and he refuses to break his covenant, no matter how much Israel denies him and commits adultery against him.
"When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols. Yet it was I who taught Ephriam to walk; I took them up by their arms, but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of kindness, with bands of love. . .
My people are bent on turning away from me, and though they call out to the Most High, he shall not raise them up at all. How can I give you up, O Ephriam? . .
My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my burning anger; I will not destroy Ephriam; for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come with wrath."
- Hosea 11:1-4, 7-9
"I will make my dwelling among you, and my soul shall not abhor you. And I will walk among you and will be your God, and you will be my people.
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that you should not be their slaves. I broke the bars of your yoke and enabled you to walk with heads held high."
-Leviticus 26:11-13
The holy, perfect, righteous, glorious God does not stay upon his throne in the highest heaven, but he brings his glory down to earth. Simply to be with his people. And he not only dwells with them, but he's also actively involved in their lives, nurturing them and loving them unconditionally. Because he cannot contain his steadfast love. It's who he is.
God choosing to dwell in a house made with human hands seems like enough sacrifice, right? God already displayed extreme humility, right? Yeah... but our God is crazy. He wasn't satisfied. He wanted to sacrifice even more to be with us. His glory dwelling in the temple wasn't good enough for him. He loved us so much that he had to dwell with us in an even more personal way, and he was willing to sacrifice everything for it.
If you thought smushing God's glory into a cloud was claustrophobic enough, try smushing God's glory into a human body.
"Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men." -Philippians 2:5b-7
God came as a man to be with us. Immanuel.
But wait... God didn't stop there.
"And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." -Philippians 2:8-11
Why did Christ humble himself to die a brutal and unjust death?
Because making his dwelling among us was not enough for him. No, he was not content until he made a way to make his dwelling within us.
"In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. . .
By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. . .
So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him."
-1 John 4:9-10, 13, 16
"Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?"
-1 Corinthians 3:16
This is the beauty of the gospel.
God with us. God within us. Even though we are broken, sinful, undeserving, adulterous people, God chose to satisfy his wrath by his own blood so that he could display his glory through his faithfulness to his people. It's who God is. He sacrificed it all because he could not contain his steadfast love for us.
Before I jump into the verses God used to teach me, here's the context of the passage:
God made a covenant with David that his son (Solomon) would built a house for the Lord (the temple). After Solomon builds it and the Shekinah glory of God enters as a cloud and rests in the Holy Place, this is Solomon's prayer:
"O Lord, God of Israel, there is no God like you, in heaven above or on earth beneath, keeping covenant and showing steadfast love to your servants who walk before you with all their heart. . .
But will God indeed dwell on earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built!"
-1 Kings 8:23, 27
This is a big deal. Solomon says that not even the highest heaven can contain the glory of God, yet God chooses to dwell in a tiny, fragile house built by human hands.
He chooses to be present with the people of Israel even though they are constantly grumbling, complaining, and running away from him.
He dwells among the people of Israel simply because he chose to and he cannot contain his steadfast love for them.
He has made a covenant to be faithful to Israel and he refuses to break his covenant, no matter how much Israel denies him and commits adultery against him.
"When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more they were called, the more they went away; they kept sacrificing to the Baals and burning offerings to idols. Yet it was I who taught Ephriam to walk; I took them up by their arms, but they did not know that I healed them. I led them with cords of kindness, with bands of love. . .
My people are bent on turning away from me, and though they call out to the Most High, he shall not raise them up at all. How can I give you up, O Ephriam? . .
My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my burning anger; I will not destroy Ephriam; for I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come with wrath."
- Hosea 11:1-4, 7-9
"I will make my dwelling among you, and my soul shall not abhor you. And I will walk among you and will be your God, and you will be my people.
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, that you should not be their slaves. I broke the bars of your yoke and enabled you to walk with heads held high."
-Leviticus 26:11-13
The holy, perfect, righteous, glorious God does not stay upon his throne in the highest heaven, but he brings his glory down to earth. Simply to be with his people. And he not only dwells with them, but he's also actively involved in their lives, nurturing them and loving them unconditionally. Because he cannot contain his steadfast love. It's who he is.
God choosing to dwell in a house made with human hands seems like enough sacrifice, right? God already displayed extreme humility, right? Yeah... but our God is crazy. He wasn't satisfied. He wanted to sacrifice even more to be with us. His glory dwelling in the temple wasn't good enough for him. He loved us so much that he had to dwell with us in an even more personal way, and he was willing to sacrifice everything for it.
If you thought smushing God's glory into a cloud was claustrophobic enough, try smushing God's glory into a human body.
"Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men." -Philippians 2:5b-7
God came as a man to be with us. Immanuel.
But wait... God didn't stop there.
"And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." -Philippians 2:8-11
Why did Christ humble himself to die a brutal and unjust death?
Because making his dwelling among us was not enough for him. No, he was not content until he made a way to make his dwelling within us.
"In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. . .
By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. . .
So we have come to know and to believe the love that God has for us. God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him."
-1 John 4:9-10, 13, 16
"Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?"
-1 Corinthians 3:16
This is the beauty of the gospel.
God with us. God within us. Even though we are broken, sinful, undeserving, adulterous people, God chose to satisfy his wrath by his own blood so that he could display his glory through his faithfulness to his people. It's who God is. He sacrificed it all because he could not contain his steadfast love for us.
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