Ree-vy-vahl

Revival is one of those words that gets thrown around a lot.  We sing it during worship, beg God for it when we pray, and try to label the past with it.  Until lately, my definition of revival was this: occurrences where tons of people feel really good about God, some get saved, and then they get recorded in the history books. I feel like we sometimes put this kind of focus on Sunday morning church - I've heard pastors preach that, unless we fill every seat in our sanctuaries, people will never hear the Gospel and we will never experience revival in our generation.  It seems that this rationale has been used to build bigger buildings, hire more pastoral staff, and send more postcards.

I don't have a problem with church on Sunday mornings or building our campuses to better serve our neighborhoods.  I actually really enjoy Sunday morning church and think providing for people's needs to be a very noble cause.  What I'm saying is that we are missing out if we limit our definition and experience of revival to church or big events or even make them the center of what we understand revival, or even ministry, to be.  Revival is not church or concerts or speakers or unity of His people.  

At its core, revival means to come back to life after lacking it; to bring life back.  Revival involves Heaven coming to earth as we experience the depths of God's heart, fall in love, live differently because of it, and are compelled to breathe life to areas of decay around us. 

What I see in the Bible is this: we were given an atmosphere of life and an intimate closeness with God in Eden, sin entered the world, and with it death, humanity struggled and responded to God by offering Him dead animals.  The Word became flesh as Jesus entered the world, He raised the dead, healed the sick, brought peace and justice, laid Himself down for a bunch of people who didn't deserve it, told His closest friends to do what He did, and gave us His Spirit for intimate companionship.  Then those guys, empowered by Spirit, raised the dead, healed the sick, brought peace and justice, and invested in  genuine community that became the body of Christ.  Essentially, we lost our access to Life and the Father, Jesus gave Himself up to get it back for us, and then the people who loved Him the most and spent the most time around Him, proceeded to do the same thing for the rest of the world.

It didn't end there, though.  This is the hour for revival.  It is happening now.  Here.  How do I know?  Because I've experienced it.

I am a revivalist.

What I know from my own life is that Jesus has brought a number of areas back to life - He has healed me, He has taken care of me, revealed His heart to me, unlocked my true identity and potential.  I was dead, now He is bringing me to life.  He didn't stop reviving me when I came to church or when I asked Him into my heart or when it first felt 'real.'  He is constantly bringing me into Life, drawing me closer to Him, and giving me new dreams.  

From here, I can't help but press my ear to His chest to hear the rhythm of His heartbeat.  I am a conduit of Life to the world.  The more I encounter His love, the more I want to live differently.  The more I hear His voice, the more I want to say the things He says.  The more I discover in His heart, the more I want to respond with love towards Him and others.  My life just isn't the same.  

And so I have come to the conclusion that revival is something to be experienced in intimate depth with the Father and something to be given out of our overflow of His love.  It is fruit of fighting for intimacy with Jesus all day every day.  It is born out of worship, nurtured in our spirits, influencing of the desires of our souls and the actions of our bodies. Its mark on the world is never ending.

Life Outside the Box

I wrote this 2 & 1/2 years ago, thinking I would be graduating in May 2012 instead of December 2011. Nonetheless, here is the progress I have made:

I grew my hair really long, donated it to Locks of Love, and cut it really short.

I travelled to Ecuador this past summer, stayed in an orphanage for a week, and got genuinely rocked by my Daddy.

I learned to play guitar, wrote lots of parts of songs, but never really finished one.

I painted pictures of things Jesus was doing in my heart.

I took a road trip to Colorado and learned to live like Liz on top of the World.

I never ran a 10k.

I never threw a mystery party.

I never went to New York City.

Part of me wants to say that I wish I had accomplished every goal on this list, but most of me is content to have lived life outside of the lines I once drew for myself.

Like anyone in my current position, I have to say that I have learned countless lessons about life that I never expected. Some of them are chronicled here, but most of them lie in the depths of my journals from the past few years.

What I think happened is that, at 19, I put life in a box constructed by accomplishments and college degrees. What I didn't understand was that Jesus wanted me to have life to the full simply because I belonged to Him, that the richness of life had nothing to do with anything I did, but everything to do with who I was in Him. It is in this rich place of identity and intimacy that I find my very reality influenced by His peace, abundant in provision, and entrenched in solid community.

In the past 3 & 1/2 years, events and concepts once thought incomprehensible have come to make up the very fabric of my story. In this period of my life:

I started the journey of falling head over heels for Jesus, choosing to face life with Him as my husband, making key decisions together, and constantly living into new adventures.

I learned a lot from my friends Kelsi and Chris O. and constantly experience the blessing it is to live as a part of their household.

I learned to balance this with this.

I learned to take big risks and trust that God would catch me.

I got stretched beyond belief.

I fell in love with Taylor Marin.

I began to live in circles toward the Kingdom of Heavem.

My heart got healed of a number of past wounds.

I learned to pursue honor even when I didn't want to.

I got ruined by the Gospel.

I think that a number of these things are going to be reoccurring themes for the rest of my life. What I love is that God didn't just take my meager expectations of my life and give them to me. Instead, He invited me into new adventures and challenged me to become like Him in the process.

I can't help but think that this next stage of life will also consist of not doing things I once thought important and being pleasantly surprised by Jesus' creative shaping of my life.

Can't wait.