Who Cares About the Details?

I don’t often write much about Faith on this blog, not specifically anyway. It’s hidden in the trees if you look for it, but often times, I want to write in a way that gives the reader the opportunity to interpret what the words mean and feel to themselves, rather than try to always put a certain spin on things.

With that, I cannot say want I am feeling this morning without first saying that I operate from a Christian belief and perspective, so take that as you will as you read.

Today, as there is everyday, there is peace in the world, even when it doesn’t feel like it. There is peace in the hope that one day, we’ll be in God’s perfect House - a House set at the perfect temperature, with the best views and where nothing breaks. A House where there’s no striving to fix things, be anywhere else or do anything. A House that’s, essentially, just being in God’s presence all the time, which relieves guilt and anxieties and replaces them with assurance and rest.

God’s House is going to be the best House because God is in the details, and God cares about the details. Ever since He communicated how to build an Alter and a Tabernacle, with all of the acute measurements and materials, He has cared about the small things, and I can only imagine how legit His house is going to be when I get to step inside it because I know he cared about every inch of its construction process. And like this, I hope I can remember He cares about the small things in my own life and in your life, even when life’s problems feel anything but small. The God who created everything cares.

-Cliff

Cliff’s Note: Is there really anything considered ‘too small’ for a God that is so big?

If There Were 100 People in the World . . .

Most jobs don't require you to work until 11 p.m. on Sunday nights; however, most jobs don't get you into free concerts at the same time. 

Tonight is one of those nights; it's a night I'm scheduled to work until 11, and it's also an event night. Tonight's event: a TobyMac concert. 

It's not like I can just sit back, walk into the concert and enjoy it the entire time. I have to sneak in every now and again on breaks and catch bits and pieces. Tonight, I managed to slip in at just the right time. It wasn't the time the headlining artist was on stage; instead, it was the time of intermission in which they had a guest speaker share a quick message. His message was simple and what I needed to hear, and his message was something like this:

There are 7.3 billion people in the world.

If you were to take those 7.3 billion people in the world and shrink them down to a perspective size of 100 people, this is what it would look like:

Only 7 people would have college degrees, 48 people would live on less the $2 a day, 23 people would not have shelter, and 50 people wouldn't have a reliable food source (15 people would be overweight from too much food).

I'm not sure how totally accurate these facts and figures were, and he shared more than I did here, with a little more 'umph' behind them, but it made me realize a few things about myself:

I hate that I'm one of the ones at the front of the line.

I hate that I'm one of the seven with a college degree, one of the 52 people living on more than $2 a day, one of the 77 with shelter and one of the 50 with plenty of food. 

I don't hate it because I have these things; these are definitely all blessings and definitely good things. What I hate is wondering why I got chosen to have them and how they make me numb to the other half of the world. Why not someone else? I'm not that deserving. What difference is there really between myself and one of the refugees trying to get into this country other than that I was born here? I didn't do anything to deserve all that I have, and he/she didn't do anything to deserve all they're having to go through. It makes me sick to my stomach. I want to be grateful for all I have, and I truly am, but I find it hard to grateful sometimes when I think about those who haven't been given much of anything, not even a smile passing by on the street. 

God has taught me a lot, not just tonight, but over this past year. Tonight was just a reminder. I don't want to be comfortable anymore, I don't want to accumulate 'stuff,' and I don't want to build a kingdom here. This world is not my home, and I think I'm finally realizing how homesick I am. I'm realizing how much my heart hurts for the people in the '100' who live completely banking their life on Eternity's Promises, for the people who pray, "give us this day our daily bread," because that's their only hope for any bread at all. 

As for me, it's time to live accordingly. 

Out of the '100,' which one are you?

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: "Still looking for a home in a world where I belong. . . "

Don't Be a Thief of Hope

Today, I learned about a really interesting ministry in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but at the same time I learned about this ministry bringing a sense of hope to people, I also learned of the people trying to steal that hope. 

This ministry in Tulsa is a ministry that takes care of homeless people throughout the city.​ every Thursday night, Christians from all over  Tulsa, regardless of denomination, go under a bridge downtown and serve the people who are experiencing homelessness. They serve them a meal, forge relationships, hand out clothes, give haircuts, and do many other things that people experiencing poverty have trouble finding access to. It's a great ministry that unites not only Christians, but also unites the city and the people living in different financial demographics. It's a pretty picture; however, to my surprise, I learned that for a while, the city was trying to erase this pretty picture. 

I don't get why anyone would want to try to erase someone's hope who hardly has any hope left. I understand that providing help for those in need attracts more people who are in need, but I don't understand why that makes it a bad thing to help people. Why is it wrong to offer food and the essentials of life to someone who is down on their luck and truly needs just the basics of food and warmth. I don't understand what that has to do with politics, political sides,​ or being bad for a city, and it hurts my heart when I hear of people trying to discourage helping those who need help. After all, everyone needs help at some point in life. 

​As much as the city tried to steal a source of hope for people, it didn't. As much as this story of help trying to be stopped hurt me to hear, it didn't erase the hope I find in knowing this ministry is still doing its thing by the Grace of God. Don't let someone's hopelessness steal your hope, and don't let someone's burdening steal your helping. 

-Cliff​

​Cliff's Note: Hope and help both start with H.

Hope: More than Wishful Thinking

It's a funny moment when you realize a word means something different than what you thought it meant, and you use it in public. For example, in my 10th grade biology class, we were learning how to give CPR. My teacher asked the class the question, "What bone do you press on to apply CPR to someone?" Me, being in 10th grade and having "paid attention" throughout the majority of the class, confidently raised my hand to answer the question and said matter-of-factly, "The scrotum."

*crickets*

Then the teacher proceeded to call me out into the hallway for a chat because the scrotum is obviously not the bone you press on to apply CPR. It's something else. I know that now; I didn't then, but I sure thought I did (No, I wasn't smarting off with my answer. I sincerely thought the scrotum was the sternum. Oops). 

Messing up words can get you in trouble. It can get you detention (like in my case), it can just create an awkward situation for you, or it can make you believe a word means one thing your entire life when it actually means something else, creating a misunderstanding of most sentences that word is used in. This is what has happened to me with another word, "hope." 

For the longest time, I just thought hope meant something a long the lines of "wishful thinking," and I guess it does mean that to some extent. . . to "hope" to win the game," or "hope to feel better." Today, however, I found out that it means much more than that, at least from the Christian context anyway.

Today, I found out that hope for a Christian isn't just a wishful thinking; It's an expectant waiting, a knowledge of fact. It's superior to wishful thinking, and it's an expectancy of God to fulfill all of His Word and all of His Promises because "God cannot lie" (Heb. 6:18). Learning this today seemingly flipped my world upside down. So many verses made much more sense, so much confidence filled my heart, and so much more life came to God's promises; They became more than wishful thoughts; they became fact. I don't think I didn't believe these promises before, but changing the definition of hope from wishful thinking to expectant waiting separated what once sounded like God hoping to be for me, to knowing God is for me. It just sounds so much better. 

Now, I know why hope is not timid. Hope is confident because hope is Truth. Hope is more than wishful thinking. It's what saves us. After all, "Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently (Rom. 8:24-25)" 

-Cliff

Cliff's Note: Biblical hope is more than well-wishing; it's belief in fact and waiting expectantly for it.