Megaphone

Scars are scars even when they come from self-inflicted wounds. 

They power that many times they have upon us is amazing and sometimes indescribable. Every one of those scars carry a meaning, they carry a story, they carry with each of them pain. Each scar has the power to freeze you in your tracks. Each scar has the power to make you doubt and second-guess. But that power that scars have is all a memory of the pain once felt. We become conditioned to believe that risks and challenges we face will cause pain and hurt again.

It is that pain that scares us.

It is the pain that stops us in our tracks.

It is the pain that makes us doubt.

It is the pain that makes us think that we are nothing.

It is the pain that changes us.

There once was a very successful and powerful king. His kingdom flourished under his rule. One day, this king, instead of going to war decided to stay home and relax while his army fought in his name.

The king went out on a walk and as he was on the roof of his palace, he saw a beautiful woman bathing.

He saw her.

He desired her.

He made her his own.

He sinned.

She was pregnant.

He killed the woman’s husband, who also happened to be a close friend.

He tried to hide the wounds he had cause to others and himself.

A prophet then approached the king with a story;

“So the Lord sent Nathan the prophet to tell David this story: “There were two men in a certain town. One was rich, and one was poor. The rich man owned a great many sheep and cattle. The poor man owned nothing but one little lamb he had bought. He raised that little lamb, and it grew up with his children. It ate from the man’s own plate and drank from his cup. He cuddled it in his arms like a baby daughter. One day a guest arrived at the home of the rich man. But instead of killing an animal from his own flock or herd, he took the poor man’s lamb and killed it and prepared it for his guest.” 

(2 Samuel 12:1-4)

David was mad. Furious. Enraged.

Yet, as Nathan revealed that he was that rich man who took from the poor man his only lamb, David recognized his sin.

David was broken. Shattered.

Scarred by his own doing.

And in the midst of all that pain, David cried out to God. He understood his sin. He understood that now he was wounded and scarred. Yet, his cry reveals to us what we must do as we stare at our own wounds and scar.

“Create in me a clean heart, O God,

And renew a steadfast spirit within me.

Do not cast me away from Your presence,

And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of Your salvation,

And uphold me by Your generous Spirit.”

(Psalm 51:10-12)

David understood that his wounded and scarred heart needed to be made anew. He understood that his brokenness was not an excuse to cry out to God. And in the midst of that pain he turned to God. His sought out his joy in the joy-Giver. He knew that his salvation did not depend on him but on the one that the sanctuary service pointed to.

Because of his sin, David lost a son. David wept for his lost son. Yet, after that pain and suffering he put his trust in God and went to Bathsheba, now his wife, and God gave them another child, Solomon.

Scars are very real. The wounds that caused them were very painful. The memory of that pain can feel all too real.

Scars are scars even when they come from self-inflicted wounds.

So the question I ask is, who is your megaphone?

Yes, you read right, megaphone.

A megaphone is an amplifier. It makes sound louder, it this case your voice.

So, who is your megaphone?

Who do you amplify when you are suffering? Who do you amplify when the scars are all too real? When you’re frozen in fear, who do you call?

Jesus himself suffered wounds. He was scarred. Yet it is those scars that give us freedom; freedom from our fear, pain, suffering, bad memories. "By his wounds we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5)

So, in the midst of everything, call on Christ as David did!

“For ‘Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.’” 

(Romans 10:13)

"Courage is about doing what you're afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you're scared"
-Eddie Rickenbacker-

Jesus and Trayvon

Now I understand that at this time this may be a touchy subject. I’m taking a huge risk in writing this and making it public and I must admit that when emotions run high it is dangerous to write something that attempts some balance.

I’ll tell you this much. All the rage, all the anger, all those emotions that we are all feeling are real. It is a innate desire for justice that God has put inside of us and every time it is broken we respond.

There is though, a question, something I have been pondering since the day of the verdict. As I read tweets and reports on the news the question kept nagging me and begged to be answered.

How would have Jesus responded?

There are many ways that Jesus could have responded.

In Matthew 21 Jesus responds with anger and indignation the great disrespect that was being done to the temple. He over-turned the tables of the moneychangers and demanded respect for the house of God.

Jesus was angry and demanded respect.

In John 8 Jesus is silent. Jesus hears and listens to accusations. He stands in the midst of those accusers, as a prostitute lays before him, ashamed, caught in the act. He is pressured to respond and act and pronounce a verdict, yet he remains silent. He kneels down and writes on the dust.

Jesus was silent.

In John 11 Jesus weeps. He cries because he feels the pain and suffering of his creation. He cries because the consequences of sin are very present. He cries because he know that soon this will be his reality and many of those present there would have turned on him. Jesus cries to the point that the people around them know that he loves Lazarus.

Jesus wept.

In John 17 Jesus prays. He prays for his disciples. He understands that very soon they will be on their own. He knows that they will suffer trials, persecution, and even death. He also prays for all believers. He prays for those who will come to know him and those that know him. He prayed for you and me!

Jesus prayed.

In Luke 23 Jesus died. He gave up his right. He gave up his comfort. He gave up his throne. He gave up his life. He became completely disconnected from the Father. He suffered the death that was meant for us. Nobody forced him to do it. He did it out of his won free will. And in the midst of death he prayed for forgiveness.

Jesus died.

Now, I am not saying to be idling and let things go by as if they aren’t important. On the contrary, we must strive for justice when there is injustice. Yet, above all things we must strive to be like Jesus.

Why Jesus and Trayvon? Because I believe that God is the ultimate judge. I know that Jesus would have probably marched along side all the protesters but in the midst of all of that he probably would have given his “Sermon in the Hood.” He would have reminded us what it means to be sons and daughters of God. He would have reminded us that there is hope. He would have spoken to us peace, a peace that the world cannot give. And as he walked away he would have reminded us of the words in Revelation 22:12 (NIV) “Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done.”

"I’m leaving you well and whole. That’s my parting gift to you. Peace. I don’t leave you the way you’re used to being left—feeling abandoned, bereft. So don’t be upset. Don’t be distraught."

John 14:27 (MSG)

You Are More

The second semester of my freshman year and first semester of my sophomore year in college I was head over heels for this one girl. Now you may think “Well that’s college. What’s the big deal? Everybody has a little crush here and there.”

There is one thing you have to understand about my college. It’s a small institution of higher learning hidden up top a mountain of a tropical forest. There were about four hundred students, total. Yup, that’s in the whole college! So you best bet that every one knew who you were the moment you stepped foot through those “pearly gates.”

Ok back to the head over heels part.

I really liked this girl. I pursued her for over a year. EVERYONE knew I liked her.

She didn’t like me back. She didn’t know what she was missing out on. (Ha ha ha, yes I’m being funny)

The first half of that first semester of my sophomore year things changed. One day my friends decided to go out to the beach. I don’t know why I didn’t go but in those days it was almost certain that a lonely Javier, meant a depressed Javier. So, I locked my self in my room, cranked up the Cypress Hill and went “insane in the membrane.” After listening to the music and getting pumped up I decided to leave the relatively safe compounds of my room and walk around campus, which was desolate like any other Sunday.

There I was. Sitting in front of an empty water fountain. Sulking in my depression.

Then a “bright” idea came to me, “Let’s walk around the fountain.”

Then another “genius” idea popped into my head, “Climb the fountain.”

It wasn’t weird that I wanted to climb the fountain. Many people before me had done it. Even up to three or four at a time.

So I climbed.

I felt like King Kong dangling from the Empire State Building. I even let out a scream and a few unmentionable words. And as I decided to climb down, I shifted my weight towards the lower lever of the fountain. I immediately felt not just my weight shift but also the weight of the fountain. In my desperation, I felt that I could hold back that pile of solid concrete coming my way, only to have to try and escape being crushed by it at the last moment.

I ended up in the hospital. No brain damage according to the doctors, although that’s debatable. I have a scar if you want to see it but the biggest scar was that to my reputation.

From that day on I was know as “Javier, the guys that broke the fountain.” It means that I was immature. I didn’t have control over my emotions. I was just a kid seeking attention. I wasn’t taken seriously. I was a joke. And even though my friends rallied around me, the rest of the four hundred students in that school believed everything they heard about me. The negative, the ugly, the shameful was what the vast majority believed. So, I decided to leave. I changed my major and flew back to California that December.

Recently, there is a song that I have been playing consistently. It’s by Tenth Avenue North called “You Are More.” Here is the chorus:

“You are more than the choices that you've made,

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,

You are more than the problems you create,

You've been remade.”

I wish I had heard that song during those hard days where I didn’t feel I was much.

I have no idea why you are reading this today but I can assure you that the mistakes in your past do not dictate who you are or who you have to be. I certainly make mistakes as often and maybe as bad as anyone else but the Bible gives us this assurance “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Take assurance that God can make you new.

If you feel like judging anyone, remember to give him or her the benefit of the doubt.

God has restored me. He continues to work on me everyday. Even though I may feel broken beyond repair, he still finds a way to make me whole.

'Cause this is not about what you've done, 

But what's been done for you. 

This is not about where you've been, 

But where your brokenness brings you to 

This is not about what you feel, 

But what He felt to forgive you, 

And what He felt to make you loved.

"You Are More" -Tenth Avenue North

If You were like Me

If you’re like me, well then, that’s a good thing to be.

Yeah that may sound presumptuous and arrogant but why wouldn’t you want to be like me?

I’m strong.

I’m firm.

I’m righteous.

I do no wrong.

I’m helpful.

I’m smart.

I pet puppies and kittens.

I’m exemplary.

Now tell me what’s wrong with that?

Nothing shakes me.

I’m unmovable.

Faithful and relentless.

Do you see what I’m getting at?

If you were like me you’d be awesome.

Extra… wait for it… ordinary!

The bombdigitty… (90’s reference)

You would never question. You would never doubt.

If you were like me, if only you were like me.

I read this story of a man named Job. He had everything, kind of like me. He couldn’t complain for God had gave him all. “There was a man in the land of Uz, whose namewas Job; and that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, andturned away from evil.” (Job 1:1)

You catch that? He was “perfect and upright.”

It seemed like nothing could go wrong. Then everything did go wrong. He lost all his money, his possessions were destroyed, he was covered in boils and his wife was of no support. His friends were only helpful while they were quiet, when they spoke they only made matters worse.

This “perfect and upright” man was at his breaking point. Actually, he broke.

“Then Job answered and said, Even today is my complaint rebellious: My stroke is heavier than my groaning. Oh that I knew where I might find him! That I might come even to his seat! I would set my cause in order before him, And fill my mouth with arguments… Behold, I go forward, but he is not there; And backward, but I cannot perceive him; On the left hand, when he doth work, but I cannot behold him; He hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him.” (Job 23:1-4, 8-9)

Oh he was giving God a piece of his mind. He had the right arguments to speak to God and tell him how to do things.

And God listened.

He was quiet.

God let Job vent.

And that is kind of scary if you ask me.

After Job had his fill of complaints then God spoke.

He spoke out of a storm. Lightning, thunder, rain, winds, the whole enchilada! His voice roared over Job with the authority of the king and creator of this universe.

“Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind and said: ‘Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Dress for action like a man; I will question you,and you make it known to me.’” (Job 38:1-3)

That was it. God spoke and it was over.

You see if you were like me this would never happen. You would never doubt or question or deviate from truth or think highly of your self.

The problem is…

I’m not like me. I’m more like Job.

And in the end, that’s ok because I know that God will speak!