Hope-Accosted Waiting.

Can I be honest?

The past week has been a struggle.  We are facing an elephant-sized amount of financial support to raise, and despite having been off campus working full-time on developing additional support, we have a net gain of around (negative) 100 bucks per month this month.  It has felt insurmountable at times, and we have struggled with trusting God.

But as I was driving back from Fall Getaway (the only on-campus activity of the semester), I was confronted—no, accosted—by a strong sense of hope.  See, I’m more sure than ever that I am called to be on staff with this organization.  I am so excited about what God is doing on campus, and how He is continually, relentlessly, mercifully taking me to the gospel.  I have a clear vision for where we are going, just not how we are getting there.

These economic times (a phrase I wish were retired, or at least made past tense) have meant a sense of panic in America.  To compound that, the predominantly fiscally conservative culture in which I have most of my doings has reached fever pitch over the national transfer of power to the left-minded.  People are terrified, if that’s a strong enough word.  And the news media is loving it.  The more they stir up the blood pressure, the more their advertisers pay to put their logo just to the left of the “Meltdown” graphic.  (This segment of panicked rhetoric and over-dramatization is brought to you by Sears.  “Come experience the softer side of Sears.”)

Listening to conservative talk radio is baffling to the point of humorous, as you’ll hear minor-key melodramatic advertisements urging investors to buy gold, or seed packets, or underground bunkers.

What drives the panic?  Lack of perspective.

When I panic over how we are going to stay on staff in light of our current financial support, it means I’ve lost perspective on who is in charge.

When you panic because you fear the ramifications of a liberal policy (or a conservative policy), or because your 401(k) is looking more like a 200.5(k), it means the same thing: you’ve lost perspective on who is in charge.

Despite what some politicians (or marketers) might have you believe, the office of the presidency was never designed to save you.  Free market capitalism governed by personal moral restraint, though I think it’s biblical, is not designed to save you.

A full bank account, and a surplus of money coming in each month is not designed to save me.  As soon as we give saving power to anyone or anything in our lives, we’ve missed the gospel.

Let me be clear and say I am not suggesting a carefree, naive approach to what are certainly weighty issues.  I am not suggesting that I should stop aggressively pursuing raising support, or that you should ignore the politicians and what’s going on in the country.  Issues like public healthcare are worth discussing and debating.  They are just not worth panicking over.  Panic indicates that you are trusting in that subject to be your salvation.

As Christians, we should only panic if God is in danger of no longer being sovereign.  Hope, for the believer, is not some wishful thinking where we cross our fingers and think positive thoughts.  Hope (that force that accosted me on the road back from Lake Wylie) is based on who God is, and what he has done.  Jesus didn’t say “it is almost finished, except for that part that will be finished once _____________ happens” (fill in the blank with things like a full bank account, your particular brand of legislation making it through congress, your kid turning out to be a preacher, or doctor, or fisherman…)  He said “It is finished.”  As believers, we can be assured that, no matter what happens in the meantime, it is all going to be all right in the end.  This life is as close to hell as we will ever get.

When we have weeks that are a struggle to latch onto God, we can rest assured that it wasn’t his grip that loosened.  He’s never let go.  And praise the Lord his saving me isn’t based on my ability to keep my grasp on it.

The Perks of the Job.

I have a confession.

I love raising support.  I know, it’s strange.  How totally and completely un-American.  To ask people to contribute money to our ministry, so that we get paid, is so counter-cultural.

But as we have been doing it full time these past few weeks, I have noticed that being forced to ask people for money also forces me to depend on others, and sheds light on my fierce anti-Christian self-dependence.

So, while I don’t always enjoy the phone calls, or constantly initiating with folks, I do cherish the reminder that I am not in control.  Apart from Christ, I am a wreck looking for a place to happen.  But in Him I have all I’ve ever needed.

What a treat to have a job that forces on a regular basis to deal with my junk.

Kingdom in the context of Capitalism.

What am I running toward?  Why do I want to raise over $2000 in monthly support?  The Bible says that “for lack of vision, the people perish” (Proverbs 29:18 King James Version) and I can definitely relate to that.

Unless there is a compelling picture in my mind of why the heck I am doing this—all the phone calls and appointments and initiating with strangers about their wallet and it’s contents—I’d surely stop.

Here’s the thing, though: God is concerned with the process of raising support just as much as he is concerned with the outcome of getting the support in and going on campus to impact students.  After all, he’s God, he could raise the support in 15 minutes.  So the fact that He isn’t tells me that there is something bigger out there than the dollars.  God isn’t just monetizing this thing with the support raising process.  He’s got some things he needs to tell us and work in us that require this angst-ridden (at worst) or uncomfortable (at best) context of “ministry partner development.”

God is a King, not a president.  His system is kingdom, not capitalism.  The end goal is no longer the dollars.  The compelling vision that keeps me on the phone (when I have enough contacts to call *cough*Prayer Request*cough*) is that He is sovereign, and has clearly, repeatedly, called me to this ministry.  I am more passionate than I have ever been about what God is doing on the college campus, and in and through students there.

As always, at the end of posts like this, I feel compelled to give you the opportunity to respond with your wallet.

If Only Life were "According to Ben"

Here’s the thing about perseverance:  It takes a while.

I want the non-existent concept of instant obedience.  I say to God, “OK, I’ve checked the box marked ‘experience emotional strain and pain from a precariously low bank account and trust God to provide’ and now I’d like to move on to the box marked ‘experience the joy of giving out of an abundance.’”

But that’s not how persevering in difficult times works.  This whole deal isn’t written like the script of a sit-com.

God is concerned about the end of this process, and people joining our team of financial partners. But right now he’s most concerned that we continue to run to the gospel even in the midst of this stuff.