cityona-hill - Tumblr blog

cityona-hill · 5 years

Text

Tide Pods, The Bible, & 2018

Hey remember when kids were apparently running around eating Tide Pods?

Remember when kids running around eating Tide Pods became an instant all-time meme?

Remember when the line between meme and reality blurred so much that you actually began to question whether anyone was consuming suspiciously-packaged detergent in the first place? (Or was that last part just me?)

Does the whole episode feel like ancient history? (a.k.a. 2016)

Nope, all of that happened this year.

If this were one big family-road-trip heading into 2019, the repeated chorus of: “are we there yet?” echoing from the backseat would have grown tiresome long ago.

And while 2018 may have been one of the most socially, politically, and spiritually divisive years of my lifetime, I also find that “New Years” is an incredibly unifying experience.

There’s a pretty decent chance that right now you’re busy setting goals and making plans for 2019, just like you did for 2018.

Because the truth is, everyone has expectations for their year, and in that said year, everyone has things happen in their lives that either exceeds those expectations or falls crushingly short of them.

It’s a near-universal experience.

So let me ask you:

Did this year bring you something new, or did it bring something old to an end?

Did you get that big break you were working for, or did the big break go to somebody else?

Did you pick up a new hobby, or did you get distracted...again?

Did you win some, or did you mostly come up short?

Did you celebrate new life, or did you grieve as one tragically slipped away?

The list goes on.

Like me, perhaps your answer to most, if not all, of those question was just a simple & humble: “yes”.

Listen, I don’t know everything about you, but I would go all-in and bet that at the very least, regardless of your political affiliation, cultural background, socioeconomic status or sexual orientation, you both rejoiced and also mourned in the past 365 days. And when you get right down to it, is there anything more undeniably human than that?

As I’ve reflected on this, I find that I’m drawn to the 22nd Psalm.

You know why?

Because it begins with the anguish of: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (v.1)

Ends with the triumph of: “Future generations will be told about the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!” (vv.30-31)

And a whole bunch of junk happens in between in order to get there (seriously, go read it).

There are high highs, there are low lows, and most of all there is a bold, unwavering hope. A hope deeply rooted in the future.

Isn’t that ultimately what New Years is all about? Believing against all odds that things can somehow get better?

Psalm 22 teaches me that it all belongs - the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’ll never advocate for hiding and pretending like the past didn’t happen, it did, yet time only moves forward - and so should we.

Was 2018 one for the books? Or was it the pits? I can’t answer for you, but what I do know is this, and I believe this is something we can all agree on:

Whatever it may have been does not have to determine what it will be,

So may you take heart, dream big, and never lose hope.

Happy New Years y’all.

#faith #hope #newyears #2018 #2019

0 notes

cityona-hill · 6 years

Text

Noise

Leading up to January 1st, 2018 I distinctly remember confidently telling several (too many) people that I was a) going to write a book this year, b) was going to be writing it one chapter a month, and c) that any and all should for sure do their part in checking-up on my progress.

Yeah, that isn’t going so well.

Not because people haven’t been reminding me, or because I have forgotten (shout-out to everyone who set a calendar alert in their phone each month for “ask Jeff how the book is coming along”), but rather because I lacked the will to do so. For reasons I’ve struggled to grasp, I simply have not been able to sit down and write much of well...anything this year.

In the spring I wanted to write about my experiences concluding my first year in seminary or the refugee crisis; in the summer I wanted to write about the loss of yet another dear friend, or about how God was moving through the students I work with; in the fall I’ve wanted to write about nationalism, the Kavanaugh hearings, and the decline of civility in society.

None of that happened.

So here I am.

As I’ve reflect, I think it comes down to two factors:

1) the speed at which things move nowadays. When I write, I want to mean it; I have to feel it in some deep place - often that takes time. So by the time I feel ready to put heart to paper, the conversation (if you can actually call it that) has long moved on.

2) the sheer level of noise in our world. I am quite honestly exhausted at all that vies for my attention on a relentless basis. Our culture places such an intense gravitational pull on our hearts and minds - towards busyness, anger, division, distraction, and escape. And so, even when the opportunity has arisen, I am filled with doubt about what place my voice even has within this cacophony.

I’m reminded though that the noise, while loudest, is not what speaks truest.

I’m reminded of a story long, long ago about a struggling prophet of the Lord by the name of Elijah. Elijah is called to the summit of a great mountain to wait on God - while there, he is awestruck by a mighty rushing wind, a roaring earthquake, and a raging fire. But the Lord wasn’t in any of those things. Then came a gentle whisper - the still, small voice of God (1 Kings 19:11-13, if you’re curious).

I want, desperately, to hear the gentle whisper; to hear the type of sweet music that slices through the noise.

But if I want my status quo to change, then I need to make some changes.

Naturally, the quietest times of my day are the still moments in the fading darkness as I lie down to sleep, and those in the growing light as I prepare to begin anew.

The old me occupied the former by endlessly staring at my phone, scrolling, watching TV, wondering why I’m not getting tired (also anxiously trying not to drop it on my face), and the latter by instinctively reaching for my social media platform of choice to see what I somehow missed while unconscious.

I have filled space meant for reflection, repentance, and prayer with...more noise.

I’m deeply entertained by the wind, earthquake, and fire, but in return I’m actually missing intimacy with the creator God who made the wind, earthquake, and fire!

Maybe you can relate?

My solution has been remarkably simple: choose the farthest power outlet across the room from my bed and plug my phone in overnight. (Genius, I know)

Now, I’m not saying that everything has been perfect all at once, not even close, but you’ve got to start somewhere, right?

Where there was once noise, there is now openness; time alone with both my thoughts and the God who knows my thoughts even better than I do.

Perhaps for the first time in a long time, for the first time all year, I can hear once more the still small voice of God speaking to my soul saying: “Jeff, you’re a writer. write. Besides, never in your life have I ever made you speechless (trust me, just ask your friends), so why start now?” (my paraphrase).

So maybe we’re back to square one, maybe there is no book coming this year after all...but because I have heard once more, I now have something worth saying once more - and that is music to my ears.

#life #faith #writing #jesus #reflection #God

0 notes

cityona-hill · 7 years

Text

The S-word

I’m tired.

Of waking up and seeing the same headlines;

Of reading the same Facebook comments;

Of listening to the same arguments;

Of evil winning.

I’m tired.

I’m tired like the writer of Habakkuk 1:

“How long, Lord, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds. Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails.” (vs. 2-4)

Another week, another mass shooting.

Next come the questions:

First “what?” – What even is going on? What are the facts?

Then “how?” – How is this possible? How did they pull it off?

And lastly comes creeping in the most haunting of all the questions: “Why?” – Why did they do it? Why did this happen?

It’s terrorism, surely it’s terrorism. No, it’s guns, surely it’s guns. No no, it’s mental illness, surely it’s mental illness.

No one seems to ever mention the word “sin”. Most likely because it comes across as too old-fashioned, too un-intellectual, or too religious.

Or maybe it’s because when we do use the word sin we actually have an incredibly narrow definition.

Sin is not the white lie you tell your mother about why you came home late on a school night.

Sin is not even murder 58 times.

Let me be clear: Sin is not the act, it is the disease which makes the act possible.

The truth is, Sin is a malicious cancer that pervades all creation. It distorts everything, corrupts everything, and corrodes every soul.

Sin is a condition so repulsive that the appropriate response often defies and exceeds our limited capacity for language. The writer of the book of Romans goes as far as to say that the Holy Spirit himself intercedes for us in prayer using “wordless groans”.

That’s the depth of evil that we’re talking about here.

What happened in Las Vegas is nothing more than an example of a human soul completely and utterly detached from Jesus Christ; the result of a heart that had given up on love.

Why isn’t this the conversation that we’re having? Especially in the Church.

See, while we were too busy burning season tickets, writing internet rants about Constitutional rights, and boycotting grown men playing a sport for money, there was a human being, a Child of God, spiraling into the depths of Hell on earth.

Sin, at it’s very core, is death itself.

But Jesus - Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life! (John 14:6)

He is the answer to the questions we aren’t asking, and on the cross He defeated the power of sin forever and for good; soon, at His return, we too will be rid of its presence as well.

Does the world need less guns? Probably.

I definitely know it needs more Gospel.

Though maybe I’m the biggest hypocrite of them all – I’ve withheld the love of Christ when I had no right to.

Yet I’m also tired; I’m tired and my soul cries out in wordless groans for justice.

It’s time to tell it like it is: Sin rules over this world – but only for a little while.

Lord may your kingdom come, may your will be done.

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” (Habakkuk 3: 17-18)

#faith #las vegas #sin #Christianity #jesus

0 notes

cityona-hill · 7 years

Text

Good Grief

I met my friend Chris during our freshman year at UCF. We weren’t roommates, technically, but rather just two members of a whole dorm-floor-family which had bonded over mutual love of video games, indoor dodgeball, and splattering dining hall ice cream cones against a brick wall (what can I say, college is weird).

Chris was hands-down, the single most unashamedly nerdy human being that I have ever met – let alone had the privilege of befriending. But not only that, my friend Chris honestly and truly loved the Lord with all of his mind, body, and soul.

I respected him for the former, and to an extent, envied him for the latter.

During a season where my own faith waivered; where my obedience crumbled; Chris stood firm. For a very long time, Chris was in essence our moral center. Our friend group was a loveable, rowdy, rag-tag band of misfits who definitely placed Chris (intentionally or otherwise) in some pretty uncomfortable situations – yet he always stuck to his convictions through and through.

Being one of the only believers in our group, I can only imagine how often he prayed for me to find my way once more.

In the months and years following graduation, many in our friend group drifted away, or simply moved on to the next chapter in their lives – the handful who remained moved-in together, myself included.

The four of us.

In just a few weeks, Chris was to become number five.

And then, on the morning of July 12th, 2017, I received the news that on the previous night, while on his way home from work, Chris died in a car accident.

Twenty-four years old.

What do you do with that?

I don’t really have any experience processing grief – I’ve had an ailing grandfather pass, but this…this is different. This isn’t supposed to happen.

To complicate things, at the time I was neck-deep in planning a youth retreat for 90 middle school and high school students. A retreat at which I was also slated to speak.

It’s hard, I think, to earnestly believe in the goodness of God when you’ve just lost a friend.

But what I struggled to believe, Chris now knew.

I wrestled for a long time with how I was supposed to finish writing my message – on what role, if any, the story of Chris’s death would (or should) play. It was supposed to be a message about childlike faith and about our collective sense of wonder – both of which suddenly felt impossibly far-off.

Then the day of his funeral came, and one-by-one Chris’s family shared not only their peace, but also Chris’s greatest wish that his friends would come to know Jesus Christ.

And that night, I cried, alone in my room, utterly exhausted, I finally allowed myself to weep.

I still honestly wasn’t sure if Chris’s death belonged in my message, but in that moment, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I knew that his life did.

So I set out to honor my friend Chris with my words and with my gifts – not alone though, never alone. From day one there were people I love whom I knew had my back; who encouraged me, who prayed for and with me. I’m forever grateful.

The Holy Spirit is often a strange thing to talk about, perhaps I guess because by definition the Holy Spirit (or Holy Ghost) is mysterious, but with full confidence I write that the Spirit was with me the night I spoke.

Those words that left my lips were not my own.

The response I received immediately after the message, and in the days following, has been entirely moving and nearly overwhelming.

I’ve since had a little bit of time to reflect, and the conclusion I’ve come to is this: That the story of Chris, his death and his life, is a miracle.

See, I don’t know why God allows pain sometimes.

I don’t know why God took our friend Chris from us and from his family, but what I have seen is a God who transformed the worst possible thing I can imagine into a beautiful story that is now changing the lives of all who heard it.

In their eyes I now see the hope I so often took for granted in his. From death to life – it’s real; it’s happening.

My friend Chris left a legacy of love, of joy, and of faith.

What kind will I leave I wonder? What kind will you?

Chris, I miss you man – until we meet again, may how I live not only honor your death, but your life as well.

Thanks, for everything.

#faith #grief #Christianity #God #friendship

5 notes · View notes

cityona-hill · 7 years

Text

Loophole-ing Jesus: an introduction

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10)

I think for a lot of people, what has been traditionally presented as the Gospel – that is, the Good News of the Christian faith – could be best summarized by the following question:

What is the most I can get away with here on earth, and still make it into heaven?

Or broken down a little more…

How many times can I swear?

How many people am I allowed to have sex with?

…And also, what even counts as “sex” anyways?

How often am I allowed to turn a blind eye to the poor?

How many grudges am I allowed to hold with my friends and family?

How many white-lies am I allowed to tell?

How many R-rated movies not named “The Passion of The Christ” am I allowed to see?

(Yeah, it can get a little ridiculous after a while)

But in all seriousness, this is genuinely what some people believe being a ‘good ‘ Christian is primarily about – and that, if by some miracle we manage to check off enough (or the right) boxes, we then get to live in a comfy little angel mansion up in the clouds for all eternity.

As if God, the creator of the universe, the alpha & the omega, is somehow clutching a mystical clipboard in one wrinkled hand – and a big, fat, red sharpie in the other – checking off the itemized report card that is your life.

I mean, is that really what this whole thing is about?

To be honest, I don’t know what worries me more – that that is indeed the truth of it – or that there is so much infinitely more to life, and that I’ve been wasting my days looking for loopholes among the divine.

My despair is that I’ve been seeking shortcuts into heaven and that God knows it – that he sees right through my duplicity.

My hope, however, is that He sees, He knows, and that He loves me anyway.

You see, we’re a shortcut kind of people – it’s practically in our DNA.

We love our freeways, we love our autocorrect, and we love our 10-items-or-less express lanes, but God, I believe, is calling us to the scenic route.

And if my life has taught me anything – taking the long way, enjoying the view, maybe getting lost once or twice – is far worth it in the end, and maybe, just maybe, is precisely how we were created to live in the first place.

So if you’re looking for ‘Christianity abridged’, you might be looking for something that does not exist – but if you came for honesty and a story worth hearing, then I think you came to the right place – and perhaps, when it’s all over, you can tell me yours too.

Alright, here we go – the story of how I spent most of my life trying to loophole Jesus – and why I decided to stop and just try loving Him instead.

#faith #Christianity #jesus #God

0 notes

cityona-hill · 8 years

Text

Causeways & Cul-de-sacs: Making sense of life’s endless crossroads

There is a cliché that gets thrown around in many Christian circles; that “everything happens for a reason.”

Whenever we find ourselves in a confusing, troubling, or hurtful period we are assured of this promise; to back it up most will point to Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” What usually gets left off the coffee mug however, is that just one verse earlier God states that these “plans” are only going to come into view after seventy years of exile in Babylon. Seventy years. That’s kind of a long time.

So perhaps God does place us into certain situations as part of His great plan, just not in the ways we always expect or hope.

But what about those other times?

The seasons where by all accounts we got ourselves into this mess by our own fruition? Is God twiddling his thumbs, watching us fumble around in darkness? Or is this too, “happening for a reason”?

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before…

There was a man who had two sons (Luke 15:11). The younger of the sons goes to the father, asks for his inheritance, and sets off into a distant land. He squanders everything he owns upon every vice the world has to offer, eventually finding himself fighting for scraps in the muck amongst the pigs. He has lost it all and is left to live in disgrace knowing full well that it was his doing. His choices that put him there.

The son had faced a crossroads. And as Robert Frost would probably tell you, the path he chose made all the difference.

You see, along our journey there are always going to be crossroads. A fork in the trail where we are faced with a choice. We listen for council from God, from friends, and from family (not always in that order) and ultimately we make a decision.

Only sometimes, you choose a road to follow, and follow, and follow, only to later realize that it was a cul-de-sac all along.

And other times, the road turns out to be a causeway, bridging the vast gap between seasons, carrying us somewhere brand new and beautiful.

The son had chased every pleasure, every desire, and the only place it took him was in circles, until he was lost and alone; until it was too late.

…Or was it too late?

Is it ever too late?

The good news; the gospel of Jesus is that the resounding, miraculous answer to those questions is: no.

For when the son at last returns home in shame to beg his father’s forgiveness we are told that the father RUNS out to meet him with merciful embrace.

And like a loving father, often God has to allow our foolishness to break us of our pride. For then and only then can we have eyes to see His full glory; the full masterpiece He is crafting for His children.

In my life, and maybe yours too, the truth is that sometimes we first must become lost in order to be found again in Christ.

May you boldly go forth knowing that even while still a long way off the Father comes with arms outstretched, right where you are.

#faith #Christianity #prodigal #shame #love

0 notes

cityona-hill · 8 years

Text

Sticks, Stones, and the Immense Power of Words

And God said, ‘Let there be light’, and there was light.

This is verse number three of the Bible.

Here, in the epic creation poem of Genesis we are shown a silent heaven, and a silent Earth; covered in formless darkness. Then suddenly this silence and darkness are eclipsed by a most magnificent light, one commanded into existence with four words.

You see, words carry enormous power. The power to illuminate all the heavens and Earth, and the power to illuminate an individual soul.

But that’s not the whole story is it? The same way our words can breathe light and life, they can also drown our world in death and shadow.

Every time we open our mouths we have a choice to either uplift or break down.

To love or to loathe.

To encourage or to entrap.

The righteous path is obvious here isn’t it? If so, why do we all too often choose the latter?

I believe there is a myth. One that states that encouragement and compassion are weakness; that there are only winners and losers in this world, and that you had better be a winner. To be a winner you need to make it very clear to everyone around you just who the losers are and that it is in fact not you.

That is the myth, here is the truth: To Jesus there are no winners and losers. Rather there is only one single category: the loved. You, me, them. And so our calling is to love, as he first loved us. (1 John 4:19)

The words we speak into each other’s lives are like seeds that take root. Often slowly, sometimes all at once. These seeds will grow to bear many sorts of fruit and you never truly know how much a single idea can affect the trajectory of a human life.

The apostle Paul challenges us in Hebrews to “encourage one another daily, as long as it is called ‘Today’, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.”

“As long as it is called ‘Today’”.

To me, there is just something beautiful about that phrase.

So in the end, you were lied to. Each and every child. Far more that sticks and stones, words are what wound the deepest, down to our very soul. We all intrinsically know this, because we have all been there. But words also have the capacity to speak whole new realities into existence.

Ones of love, hope, and limitless possibility.

Now may you too speak light, and see that it is good.

#Christianity #faith #love #words #encouragement

1 note · View note

cityona-hill · 8 years

Text

Generosity: ‘Tis the Season

A while back some friends and I were out at a local brewery listening to live music and enjoying one another’s company. It was a muggy summer evening and the air was thick with the rhythms of saxophones, guitars, and laughter. It was a fantastic night. Eventually it came time to pay the tabs and I, for whatever reason, decided to leave a meager tip for the bartender who had been nothing but kind. I’m not sure why I did this but perhaps I felt strapped for cash, who knows.

I went to use the restroom before leaving and upon my return I noticed that my original tip had been aggressively crossed out and increased by a couple dollars. I knew which of my friends had done it and I remember being absolutely livid. It was only slightly more, but something within me just fumed, as if I was being robbed. “How dare he decide what to do with my money.”

I tell this story, to tell you another story.

In the youth ministry I volunteer with there is an offering taken up each week for a Caribbean child named Jesulene whom the church has adopted to support throughout her upbringing. Recently in a sermon, the pastor noted that there was a marked difference in giving between the high school and middle school groups (with the latter being ahead).

At first this made no sense. High schoolers can work and actually earn money, middle schoolers just show up, pockets stuffed with whatever mom and dad gave them for pizza and candy-

And then it hit me. It’s not their money. The thing is, when we have money and take ownership of it, something tends to happen deep within us, and the grip around our wallets tighten ever more. But when we recognize that this money; our wealth; our possessions, are all a gift, that it’s not really our money, our fingers begin to loosen and it suddenly becomes a joy to share our gifts with others.

In the Bible it talks about how the streets of Heaven will be paved with gold (metaphor or no, I can only imagine the sight being spectacular).

Here’s the thing about that: In Heaven, the most valuable substance on Earth; our ultimate symbol of fortune, is the stuff we walk on. Concrete with grass poking through the cracks and spattered with petrified gum.

Now what if I told you that gold, money, treasure, what-have-you, isn’t even the most valuable or sacrificial thing we as humans have to give?

It’s time.

I’ve often said and long believed that time is the single most important resource on this planet.

We all carry around a finite amount of it and what’s more: we have no clue just how much.

Each and every day we could be giving our last hour, our last minute, our last second.

This holiday season (and every other season) think not only how you are giving money, but also how you are giving your time. As Paul writes in Corinthians:

“Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”

May your heart soften and you give joyfully, for all you have received here was a gift itself.

The mere streets of heaven are paved with gold,

But our souls were paid for with eternity;

And not only is that timeless, it is also-

priceless.

#giving #faith #Christianity #christmas #life

1 note · View note

cityona-hill · 8 years

Text

Identity: Be who you are. Believe in who you are becoming.

As I turn another year older I’m left to reflect upon who I once was, who I am now, and who I may be years and years in the future.

I think we like to look at our lives this way; say things like “Man, can you believe what I was like back then? I was a completely different person.”

No you weren’t.

You always have been, and always will be you. And that is just the way it was meant to be.

How much pain has been caused by the endless struggle to be something we’re not? To be faster, stronger, sexier, smarter?

Now I don’t say all this to encourage anyone to be complacent or stagnant, what I am saying is this:

Do not seek to be someone else, seek to become the best version of yourself.

When I was younger I remember standing outside a grocery store raising money for my youth group. It turns out at this very minute I was having perhaps my first authentic moment with one of my closest friends and greatest mentors. In a passionate speech, I declared that I was tired of being a joke, of not being taken seriously by anyone (an existential crisis at the ripe age of 13). Just then, at the crescendo of my rant, a rogue tidal wave of saliva comes pouring out of my mouth and all over my face.

Since then of course I have matured, grown, traveled, loved and lost, but deep down I’m still that kid with spit all over his face wanting to be taken more seriously.

See my problem wasn’t that I wanted to be someone else, it’s that I didn’t know who I was.

I didn’t think God could use someone like me to do great things. It wasn’t just a crisis of identity, it was a crisis of belief.

There is a story from the New Testament in which the disciples of Jesus are out on a boat in the middle of a storm when Jesus appears in the distance, walking on water. The disciples are shocked, afraid, and amazed. The disciple Peter calls to Jesus saying “Lord if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water”. “Come” Jesus says, and so Peter does, stepping out of the boat and walking across the waves. Suddenly, Peter remembers what he is doing and becomes frightened by his surroundings. He begins to sink, shouting for Jesus to save him. Jesus immediately catches him (you know, as Jesus typically does) and says to Peter “you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

I don’t think, in that moment, Peter lost faith in Jesus. After all, Jesus was standing right in front of Peter. Instead, I think Peter lost faith in himself. Peter didn’t believe that he really was that guy Jesus had called to be miraculous.

I'm willing to bet that once Peter saw the wind, the lightning, and felt the thunder he was reminded of his frail humanity, and thus, his imperfection; his sins, his past. Surely someone like me is not worthy to answer the call.

Oh the lies we accept.

The truth is that God comes to us just the way we are, hand outstretched ready to catch us the instant we fall.

“You of little faith”

Once you own your flaws, your flaws can never own you.

You can be the sinner and the saint.

How exciting is this life? Think about it. No one has ever lived your life before; you are the very first person ever to discover what it’s like to be you.

And I promise, if you seek your identity in Christ, you will surely find it.

My friend once told me that ‘there is always a better you out there for you to become’. And this is precisely the call Christ extends to us.

Through grace we become great.

I’m still the kid with spit on his face, just, better. More complex, developed, funny, flawed, passionate, awkward, and yes more…serious.

So may you always grow; grow and never lose sight of who you’ve been all along.

Believe in yourself, Jesus does!

#faith #life #growth #Christianity

1 note · View note

cityona-hill · 9 years

Text

Foundations: Where does your soul reside?

We are all brick houses.

The various aspects of our lives stacked upon each other. Whole bricks, bricks with chips and cracks, and even ones crumbling under their own weight.

What will be the mortar that holds your brick house together? Success? Wealth? Fame?

Or will it be the boundless love of Christ? The only foundation that transcends time and decay.

May love bind your imperfections and make your brick house a shining city upon a hill.

______________________________________________________________

When you left your house today, who were you? What hat were you wearing? What mask hid your true face?

We all do this, whether we admit it or not, it’s truth.

As humans we are both simultaneously drawn to relationship and terrified by it. We put up new walls almost as quickly as we tear others down.

Why is this?

Because when we truly invite someone into our lives, into our brick houses, they are going to see where we keep our masks and where we hang our hats; you can only pretend so much inside your own home.

Authentic relationship demands sacrifice; the sacrifice of our artificial self.

Of everything we had wished to be perceived as. And I believe that from these ashes of sacrifice will come a new freedom.

So may we, all of us, open our hearts to the gift of one another.

#life #prayer #christ

0 notes

cityona-hill · 9 years

Text

An Unexpected Journey:

What it means to “be a Christian”

For so many, and for better or for worse, I think this is the question. “What does it mean to be a Christian?” or maybe rephrased: “What does a Christian look like?”

Honestly, I think these are valid questions. And these are questions that have sparked meaningful, poignant, and even tense conversation in my life as of late.

However, I think it becomes unhealthy if we use these questions to mask the real question:

“What do I need to do to get to heaven” or “How do I not go to Hell?”

I've heard it said, and I’ll be upfront about this, that if you ask a bad question, you’ll get a bad answer.

And then of course there are some questions, that simply

Don’t

Have

An

Answer

At all.

That’s a tough pill to swallow. I know what is written, and what has been preached or portrayed in society for generations (and there’s no shortage of literature on the subject). But for me, as a fragile human, here and now, eternal destiny is simply above my pay grade. Maybe you agree.

What I do know is this life.

What it means to follow Jesus in the present.

I think a lot of hot air has been expended over one particular facet of the Christian experience.

Belief vs. Behavior.

Is being a Christian defined by what we believe? (in our hearts, minds, souls, etc.)

Or is being Christian defined by our actions? (what we do, say, sacrifice, etc.)

To answer this, let’s take a look at two stories from the time of Jesus.

In the first (Matthew 25), Jesus tells a parable about how the righteous are being separated from the unrighteous “like a shepherd separates his sheep from the goats”. Jesus says to those on his right, the righteous, that they are blessed “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.” And that “whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” And to those on the left, Jesus has some harsh words. Even though they may have had good intentions they had nothing to show for it. “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.”

In other words it is their actions; their good deeds that Jesus recognizes. Now hold that thought while we look at the other story:

In the second story (Matthew 23) Jesus is going on a bit of a rant; calling out the religious leaders of his day (the Pharisees, teachers of the Jewish Law). He says to them “You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” (Yeah, Jesus doesn’t really pull any punches).

In this instance we have the complete opposite. Jesus sees people who ‘do all the right things’ but on the inside, their hearts are empty, and therefore their actions meaningless.

So let’s return to our previous question.

Is it our belief or our behavior that make us Christians?

Both

And neither.

We can do nothing to earn our salvation or righteousness. Jesus has already done that for us, and given it all away freely.

Yet, a healthy tree will also bear good fruit. And the more our hearts become like that of Jesus, we will begin to look more and more like him and seek to do the things he has called us to do in this world.

All that is required then is belief; belief that the way Jesus taught us to live is the most beautiful, fulfilling, and impactful way to interact with creation and one another.

I'll go even further and tell a story about a man in the Bible who asks Jesus what he must do to be saved (Matthew 22), and Jesus replies simply to follow the commandments. The man is not satisfied with the answer and presses Jesus to reveal which is the most important commandment above all else.

What does Jesus tell him? To love God with all your heart, mind, and spirit. And then to also love your neighbor as yourself.

Can it really be that simple? Beyond all the “rules”, the dogma, beyond heaven, beyond hell, is it just about love?

You know what I find most compelling about the Bible? It’s that the story contained within can be shallow enough for anyone to wade ankle deep in, and feel the presence, feel the hint of something more. And yet still deeper than the greatest oceans, filled with Truth, wisdom, and a great mystery that we may never solve. While some may find that frustrating, I find great comfort in the uncertainty of it all (as odd as that may sound).

I think for too many there is this concept that accepting the hope and grace of Jesus into our lives is the end.

Instead, let that be the means to us living out our greatest callings and dreams on this Earth.

See, being a Christian is less about making the ten minute commute to church on a Sunday morning and more about a lifetime of exploring, questioning, and wonder centered around Jesus Christ. One where we cross every ocean, overturn every stone, peer over every horizon, and dive as deep as our mortal breath allows.

We're on a journey (that means work in progress)

So may you walk in faith,

Embrace doubt

Claim Truth everywhere

Love recklessly

And I will see you at the end of this.

#god #faith #christianity #life

0 notes

cityona-hill · 9 years

Text

There, and back again.

I’ve heard it said that Christian is a great noun, but a poor adjective.

Y’know I think a lot of people view the Christian experience as beginning at one distinct, divine point. With one prayer accepting Christ into their heart. From which they live out the rest of their days not having premarital sex, cursing, or watching R-rated movies. And then it well, ends, and then you leave this place for somewhere else. A happily ever after story, credits roll!

Not exactly.

I’ve deeply come to understand recently that the Christian faith is made up of a string of seasons that define certain periods of our lives.

Some long. Some short.

There are seasons of growth, seasons of relationship, of solidarity, of community, of stagnation, and as I’ve discovered, seasons of drift.

Have you ever been on a boat in the middle of the ocean and pulled up the anchor?

You can go hours never even realizing you’ve moved anywhere at all.

Everything around you blends together as the currents slowly, deliberately carry you off.

This can happen in life too, can’t it? A quick glance around and everything looks the same; looks normal. Only when your eyes are truly wide open can you see just where you’ve ended up. And it isn’t always where you intended.

My adolescent years were shaped by a season of growth and community that lasted years. Until I went to college, choosing then not to set my anchor but instead to float along the current of the narrative society dictated I should follow.

I became: adrift.

And one day, I’m not sure when, I just stopped trying to find my way home. I stopped pursuing the Lord. Content to be afloat. Content to wash ashore in whatever port would take me.

But like the North Star forever shining in the abyss of night, there was God.

While I was lost

He

Never

Stopped

Pursuing

Me.

After weeks turned to months turned into years I could no longer ignore the yearning of my spirit.

Something dormant inside me had been awakened

and I entered a new season:

Rebirth.

The most amazing, miraculous thing about Jesus Christ is that no matter how long you are gone

Once you return

It’s like

You never

Left

At all.

So with a reborn soul I say to you:

Be wide awake, keep your eye on the heavens, and may you too experience rebirth.

Welcome home.

#faith #god #life

1 note · View note

cityona-hill · 10 years

Text

1500 Miles

Over the winter holiday I decided to visit my family in South Carolina.

Prior to leaving I reset the trip counter in my car; by the time I finished the last leg of my adventure I had gone more the one-thousand, five-hundred miles.

I expected this.

What I didn't expect was to discover was how much more there is to a number.

1500. Not just distance.

Beyond the highways, beyond the roads, and beyond the rest stops 1500 miles can take you to amazing places.

It can take you to bar stools, breakfast nooks, and dining room tables; to spaces filled with the warmth and laughter of those closest to your heart.

It can take you atop rain-drenched mountains and beneath cascading waterfalls; to places where the wonders of nature lie bare and magnificent.

It can take you away. Away from the stress and anxiety of everyday life. Away from fear and away from worry.

It can bring you closer than ever before. Close to the glow of a fireplace in winter; close to family long loved but rarely seen; close to the soft fur of a puppy sleeping in your arms.

Miles may measure the distance, but memories measure the experience.

Oh the places you'll go.

1500 miles.

0 notes

cityona-hill · 11 years

Text

Behind the blog.

Really this blog has been in the works forever. In such a way that I have always loved writing; always felt I had a natural talent to putting experiences and emotions to paper, but just never gotten around to doing anything about it.

A couple months ago I visited home for a weekend away from college. What I didn't initially realize is that this visit would in fact be my last time at the house I spent 18 years growing up in. You see, my parents were preparing to move out of state just weeks later.

The only real way to describe it is surreal. Rather predictably I grew quite nostalgic over my visit and spent a great deal of time in reflection.

Even as I left for the final time, pulling out of the driveway, it still hadn't come to me; the profound realization I was waiting for. All I felt was melancholy. In a way it was like I was leaving a part of myself behind and it didn't feel right.

Fortunately I had plenty of drive to mull it over and sure enough, on some random stretch of road, I had an epiphany of sorts. Which leads me to the description of this blog...

Our lives are stained glassed windows. Masterpieces that have been hand crafted by our memories, our stories, and our creator. At a glance you see the big picture: your identity. The sum of all your parts.

But move in closer, and things get interesting. It is not a seamless picture. Rather it is comprised of shards; jagged, uneven fragments. Some may be beautiful in their own right, while others may only contain hurt. There are pieces we would very much like to shatter, to have erased from our identity, but what happens when you remove a shard from your stained glass life?

It's not the same anymore; the picture no longer whole; no longer complete.

You see, we need every part of it. Our victories and our failures.

The times you'll always remember and the ones you'd rather forget.

So in the end, I was only driving away from a single shard. From one single shard in my massive, magnificent, stained glass life and into another.

And maybe we never get the whole picture; see the completed piece.

It is too vast and our perspective too narrow.

But that's okay, because I think God just looks down and smiles.

#life #faith #wisdom #memories #motivation

3 notes · View notes

cityona-hill · 11 years

Quote

There is always a better YOU out there for YOU to become.

J.F.

2 notes · View notes

cityona-hill · 11 years

Text

blogging take 2?

Well, I had a blog on Wordpress...didn't write in a whole lot but I DO love to write so I'm gonna give this a shot!

0 notes