He Took Our Shame

I learned a funny lesson today. Last night, I did something I shouldn't have. When I woke up, I remembered it, and instantly felt the sickening, crushing shame from it. And so I went through my morning routine, feeling wretched and despised like I often do after mistakes, and I thought

'Why am I letting this shame come over me? I did what I did and I can't change that. I can only change what I do now. All this shame is doing is crippling me.'

And I wonder sometimes what it means when it says that Jesus took our shame. And then there are times where I get answers, like this morning. But then that begs the question--why would He take our shame?

A Homecoming

Tomorrow is my last full day here. Then Wednesday, I head to my favorite place on this planet: Brown City Camp. And after that, home to Granger, and then to Bethel.

I'm having a hard time understanding what it really means that I'll be leaving so soon. But then again, just two months ago I was having a hard time understanding what it really meant that I was coming up here so soon. The time disappeared somewhere, spent among wise elders, vibrant children, promising high schoolers, and a host family that treats me much better than I deserve, learning the true heart of the Gospel and finding God's heart for people that I met with mixed expectations.

And at the same time...I'm leaving to somewhere, which makes the leaving so much more bearable.

Four years ago at Brown City camp, I realized that the Gospel required something of me, and I decided to give everything to Jesus. After that year, I wondered, 'how could camp possibly get any better than that?' Last year, that question was answered.

And I'm completely expecting another answer this year.

Pray for Revival.

Homecoming

The Great Magician

It's often stated that the Lord still does miracles. In turn, these miracles are often overlooked. Sometimes, though...it seems even like He's doing magic tricks, only there's nothing tricky about them. They're just magic.

I was worried about finances...I was angry with Him. I had forty dollars, a quarter tank of gas, three weeks, and at least six hours of driving before I could get home, where I would get a job. Today, I mowed my host's lawn. She offered IMAX tickets to the Dark Knight. I asked for cash instead (yes, I do have some concept of responsibility...) She asked how much, I said whatever she wanted. 'Whatever she wanted' ended up being fifty dollars. As I was still rejoicing in this, she comes home from visiting her parents...who had given her a fifty dollar bill to deliver to me.

And then there's the matter of making a yellow bird disappear...
Ever since Sunday, I've had an incredible peace about this whole 'getting over it' situation. It's actually...working. Surprisingly. Every time a thought pops up, I struggle to push it down, and I succeed--mostly. Just as I thought it would take forever, He says the magic words and it disappears into the palm of His hand. But sometimes, I look and think, 'but when is it going to come back...'

It would just get in the way now. It was never even intended for 'now.' Even at the height of the pursuit, it was intended for 'later.' Even during the Eighth of a Second that Shook the World, I looked at her and felt what might someday come to pass. There's nothing conclusive or psychic about that. It's just another possibility. And a possibility with many qualifiers at that.


I went to Brown City Camp again today. With no one there, that place is like some blessed ghost town. Although, when the memories of Earth Shakings that are still physically present there are memories you're trying to ignore, it seems a little less benign. But I didn't run from it. I stood at that place and looked down at it. And it all became clear.
'Might someday...'

I can't hold on to the ghost of a future life. I've tried. It whisps around my hands as they pass through it's glowing blue frame.

Holding on to a Holy Ghost, though...that's different.

Coming to Understand that it's Unimportant to Understand

I am a slave to my heart and to my mind. My heart feels things far too big for me to contain, and then my mind looks around and sees things that support those feelings.
And now, I have to learn that everything I've thought for the past year was the way things were going to be for the rest of my life isn't necessarily correct at all, and I have to learn that my mind and my heart don't always see things that clearly.

I don't understand anything at all.

For the past year, I thought I understood my future, and I thought I knew the woman that would stand beside me until the bitter end. That is, until last night, when I talked to that young woman and was given a hard answer.


I know how I operate. I know how my mind plays tricks and holds on. Things like, 'if I don't expect anything to happen, then it will,' or 'if I let her go, then we'll get married.'
How foolish.

I made a deal with the Lord--'You find me a wife, I'll just try to find You.' And three days later, there she was, as plain as anything. So I pursued her. And now, I can't help thinking that if I would have pursued Him more and her less, we would be together now (or someday), or whatever. And now, my pursuit of her is over, and all I have left is pursuing God.
Truth be told--I don't even know what that means.

But I guess I'm going to do it?

I Can Be Your Hero, Baby

Tomorrow, I preach my first sermon ever (if you don't count the preachy, half written speeches I had in speech class, which I don't).
Tonight, I have a very important conversation with a very important young lady.
No, I'm not proposing. Just...moving. 'Letting it be' has become to me 'standing still.' And, as a certain violinist would remind me--'many a false step is made standing still.' And so, I'm not standing still anymore. I have to do something about this, because truth be told...I am a man of action, and 'letting it be' while doing nothing just isn't my style. Not to mention that it might be a bit unhealthy with all of the undue stress it brings me.

Thursday, I was praying about the conversation, and I just got this deep, dark feeling that I would be completely turned down, and I just got hopeless. I was still going to have the conversation, but what good is the conversation without any hope? And so, all of the mental preparation I had made completely dissolved, and I was dreading it again, and so I had to start preparing all over again from nothing.

But then...yesterday was sufficient preparation. Colonial Woods had a cruise night and drive in movie. I wasn't doing anything, so I helped out. Dear violinist was on parking lot detail, so I helped her--for twelve hours. During this time, I was announced 'my hero' several times.

I quite like the sound of that.

And suddenly...all of the nerves rapid firing every which way are calm, and with the grace of God, I'm completely ready--for the conversation AND the sermon.

::edit::
On second thought...my spirit is calm. My nerves are not.

Jehovah Jireh?

An excerpt from my internship journal...

I’m leaning more and more on God these days—but only because I have to. I’m trying very hard not to worry about things (finances in particular), but when the backup plans I had fall through, I lose confidence in His provision. I think I have this strange idea in my head that while God may not put me through what I can’t survive, He’s only interested in preserving my life. However destitute and impoverished and beaten I become, I look to Him to provide and imagine Him saying, ‘You’re alive, aren’t you?’ I need to know what it is to trust—but I just wish I would have a safety net. Funny…isn’t He my safety net? Strange how much faith we think we have until we have to actually depend on Him. And the same with this 'situation'…a year ago when this whole thing got started, I was so sure it was the Lord saying to me, ‘See? I really do want to bless you more than you can imagine,’ and since, it doesn’t feel like that much at all. It feels more like He’s just waving something incredible in front of me, just out of reach of my arms. Why can’t He just let me have it instead of teasing me relentlessly? I hate how He always knows best, because so often, it’s the opposite of what I think is best. He knows what I want, and…
I can’t have what I want on my terms. That wouldn’t be fair to me. I just wish it didn’t have to be this hard to trust. I know that I’m learning to trust, but it’s one lesson that I know is going to stretch me further than I want to be stretched.
I’m trying to be okay with it. I really am. Just right now, I’m very frustrated. I’m very angry at Him…but I think it’s more of me being angry that I can’t understand Him, which isn’t always a bad thing. It just wears on me sometimes.

The Past is a Strange and Awkward Place

This Sunday, I will be preaching my first sermon in a real live church, with pews and people in them and an altar and everything. My sermon (for lack of a better title) is called 'Remembering what we were saved from,' and in it I state the importance of, well, remembering what we were saved from. I think it's absolutely imperative to never forget that we were once just like the people that we so often look at with derision and disdain, which in turn would turn our hearts toward them.

It's a strange coincidence that today was a day filled with hindsight. I watched some music videos of bands I listened to in high school, with lead singers I tried so hard to be. Then, wandering around the internet, I came across several old emails from an old girlfriend, both during and after our relationship, and then later passed by some old pictures of us. I wasn't surprised at the things that were said--I've never really doubted that we weren't completely happy for almost the entire duration of the relationship.
What really surprised me was when I came across a picture of me and my other exgirlfriend...and I looked happy. Not only that...it was a candid, and I actually look like I loved her.

It's so strange to think about that...I've thought for so many years that the only happy times we had were for the first couple months, and everything else was selfish and juvenile and lustful. But this picture...taken within days of my salvation...
Perhaps I did actually love her, briefly, before I had to let her go. It's completely possible.

It's also (again) a very strange thing to think about. I saw her just last weekend, and realized that most of the faults she used to harp on me about have been improved upon, and then realized how glad I was to be out of that relationship. Also, I've been through almost four years of my life since then. I'm working at a church. I'm making post college plans. My life has been moved by the Gospel, and not just youth group ethics. My heart has moved on to...a more appropriate receiver. I'm moving forward like never before.

Yet is a look over my shoulder a look of yearning? Absolutely not. In fact, I'm very glad to realize that I wasn't always as selfish or lustful as I remember being. And when I look back and realize that I didn't see how anything could be better than that?

I had a terrible imagination.

Manifesto

I've been waiting for the proper time and letting things be whatever they were going to be.

But I'm a man of action.

The Cure for Pain

My sister got married today. My aunt and uncle came down for it. My aunt and uncle are independents registered as democrats who left the Catholic church but still remain generally Catholic in belief. My father, on the other hand, is an ex liberal turned conservative who was raised in the Catholic church and was excommunicated and is now Protestant. This leads to an open forum on subjects from political to moral to religious when my aunt and uncle visit.
This weekend was no exception. However, there seemed to be an awful lot of agreement on how bad of a job the government is doing in general, and how terrible this election is, and how 'winning the war' is an incredibly ambiguous and overall unrealistic goal. I agreed.

But, there was one thing my uncle said in jest--"one you get your PhD, I'll let you try to convert me." I said, "convert you to what?" And he said, "Whatever religion your going into. Presbyterian, Baptist..."
I told him that it's not about conversion or religion at all. (and this is really what I'm getting in my head these days...I had this conversation another time with my brother-in-law's cousin)

Whatever made us, whether you call it God or the Lord or Allah or the Great Spirit or whatever, whatever it was, when it created us, we, mankind, messed something up, and broke that relationship. Now, the only thing that matters is mankind and or Maker finding reconciliation through the person and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, and from there being reconciled to one another and helping one another also find this reconciliation with the Maker. It's not about turning people into Christians or baptizing them into our denomination or filling a seat in a pew. In fact, I think those things might only seem important because we've been raised with them for so long, when in reality, they're not as essential as we may think.

Jesus works in people in different ways--this doesn't mean that it's a different Jesus; Jesus is always the same. He just heals and challenges people in different ways, just as people have different personalities and different passions. Too often, we tell people that if something isn't happening in their lives (example: speaking in tongues, immediate freedom from addictions, etc) then Christ isn't at work. This is an absolute deception! Not to mention that it discredits the work Jesus truly IS doing in their lives.

My dad left and joked, 'have fun solving the world's problems.' And there's only one way to do that--and that is the Gospel, whatever that might mean to someone. Whether it means freedom from sexual sin, whether it means finally finding peace of mind despite absolute poverty, whether it means victory over suicidal thoughts, whether it means forgiving someone that has injured you, whether it means finding a loving spouse, whether it means fixing a broken marriage, whether it means being healed of a physical ailment. Whatever the Gospel is to someone, that is what we must allow it to be.

That is what we must preach--that the Kingdom of God has come, and it is moving, and that it makes no exceptions.

Independence Day Codependence

Yesterday at two thirty, I embarked on my four hour venture back home to Granger, Indiana. It was a somewhat long drive without incident--which is good, given my luck.

When I got home, I spent a long time with Meredith and Lyndsey indulging in general silliness. I've missed them a great deal. That is not to say that I didn't miss Caitlin or Erin, I simply haven't had as much time with them. I doubt I'll get that time with Caitlin--she gets married on Saturday to one Mr. Adam Sandroni, who will be the best brother in law ever. At least until one of the other sisters gets married--then the jury will be back out.

Around this time of year, I can't help but think of how our founding fathers would feel about the way our politics are going--especially with this year's ridiculous election between two ineligible candidates. Also, I wonder how people like Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin and others would react to claims that our country was founded by Christians. Ben would get a laugh out of that.
It's not that I don't see a depravity in our society--far from it. It's just that saying our nation was founded on generally Christian values (which are found in most religions) is quite different from saying it was founded by Christians.
Besides, Christianity isn't about values. It's about the Gospel. The pure, unadulterated, life-changing Gospel.

Don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows

I'm starting to turn into Bob Dylan these days. I don't know why, but it's just like some sort of infection got into my lungs and started goin' from there, on down into my blood vessels and kidneys and capillaries and everything else in there.

But the secret is, I never wanted to be Bob Dylan. He's already lived, and is still living. His songs have already been written and poems written, and if any more are to be made, he's the one to do it, not me. It ain't me.
I ain't Bob Dylan.

I'm Nathaniel FitzGerald, who might just be almost as eccentric, and might have just as strange things goin' on inside him, but I got a much harder time tryin' to explain whatever those strange things are. Just ask Brenden Bell. I've said so many things to him that he doesn't understand at all.

I'm learning lately that patience ain't a virtue. It's a gift. And if you aren't asking God what on earth He's doing, you don't know Him well enough. Or maybe you can just accept things more than I can, because I know that I think I know so well how things should be. But I haven't ever parted a sea--red, made of reeds, or otherwise. I've never raised anything from the dead. I've just asked the rain to stop before, and it did twice, and once, I clapped my hand and lightning struck. That's all I've got, really. That, and I can play the guitar passably, I can conjure up some lyrics to go with it, and I know what the Bible says about certain things, and I ain't afraid to go to the wall for those things, because that Book's more right than I could ever be.