3:00 A.M.

No, the title of this post is not referencing a Matchbox Twenty song.

It's also not the time of posting - although it's close.  As I type, it is 2:15 a.m. and I am sitting in the campus ministry office of Midland Christian School.

If you know me and how much I love my sleep then you know I must have a really good reason for being up so late (or so early depending on how you look at it.)  And you're right, I do.

This is Speak Week at MCS.  A week dedicated to 24/7 prayer.  Completely student-led.  Completely awesome.

Last night, in preparation for my "prayer room duty", I excused myself from dinner with friends to go to bed early.  When I explained the reasoning for my premature departure, my dinner buddies had an interesting reaction.  They agreed that if they were parents to teens who left the house in the middle of the night to "pray", they wouldn't buy that excuse for a second.

Interesting thought.

I'm not a parent to teens (nor was I the type of teen to try such antics), so I had never considered that option.

As I prepared for bed, I continued to dwell on my friends assumptions about teenagers.  Specifically, the teenagers that I teach day in and day out.  And I found myself becoming quite defensive.

Here's what I wish I could have told my suspicious, untrusting friends...

You may think all young people are the same but you don't know these young people like I do.

My students (MCS students) are special.  They're more than special, they are....well, quite frankly, they are amazing.  And they definitely amaze me.

They show up at 3:00 in the morning on a school night to participate in Speak Week.

They give of their money to support Sudan.

They take initiative in planning chapels, Bible studies and the like.

They work hard in the classroom, on the field, on the court...

They epitomize First Timothy 4:12.

Sure, like the rest of us, they're human.  They fall.  They fail.  They make mistakes and they don't always get it right.

But "normal teenagers" they're not.

Then I realized something.  I may have missed an opportunity to defend "my kiddos" (as I call them) to my peers but more upsetting is that fact that  I've missed many opportunities to tell the students themselves how much I admire them.

So, to ALL the students at MCS -

Thank you for not letting anyone look down on you because you are young but for setting an example.

As a believer in speech, life, love, faith and purity, I look up to you and I believe in you.

Love,
Miss Rydell

Living on the Edge

Living on the edge...

It's what rebels do, right?  We live life in the fast lane and throw caution to the wind.  In true rebel form, I am definitely living on the edge these days, but not like you'd think.

For the last month or so I've been consumed with this thought, or feeling rather, that I'm on the edge of a cliff.  Not a real cliff, of course but that proverbial cliff that so many of us face as Christians.

Behind me is safety.  The comfortable Christian life.

In front of me is the chasm of the unknown.  A life sold out to Christ.

I've been here before.  Maybe you have too.  Many times I've opted to back away from the jagged ledge and return to the life I've always known.  A life of safety and predictability.

I did jump once though.  I felt the Lord calling me into the "chasm" in the form of missions in Thailand.    Much like the disciples when they dropped their nets and followed Christ, I left my home in the states and moved to a foreign country to spread the Gospel.

But...
yes, there's a but...
looking back I realize that even that decision was "calculated" to a degree.  In a sense, the way had been paved for me.  Others had gone before, making the "chasm" seem safer somehow.

Returning to the example of Christ's Disciples, I've noticed something about the way they followed.

While walking by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them,“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ And going on from there he saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and he called them. ²² Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

These men didn't ask questions.  They didn't make excuses or try to put their calling off.  They didn't calculate the risk of such a decision or ask to interview those who had gone before them.

I think there's a word that describes that kind of leap...

Abandon.

So here I am, on the edge of yet another cliff, longing to possess the courage and conviction of the disciples but somehow hesitating.

Maybe it's fear.  Fear of the unknown.  Fear of what others will think.

My prayer is that God would replace my fear with faith so that I may jump into the chasm with abandon and live the life He is calling me to.

This New Ink is REALLY Gonna Hurt...

One of the most common questions I hear in regards to my tattoos is, "Did they hurt?"

I can't speak for others with ink but my answer is always a resounding "YES!"  I usually come back with some sarcastic remark about how if I stabbed you with a needle over and over, do you THINK that would hurt?"  Add to that my history of passing out when confronted with a needle (in shot, piercing or tattoo form) and it makes one wonder why I have tattoos at all.

But that question I can answer as well.  Not only does it satisfy my inner (and outer) rebel but my tattoos (most of them) are a reminder of the kind of life I've been called to lead and in some cases even a witnessing tool.

Several years back, I got the words "to die is gain" tattooed on my right foot.  The second half of this verse (Philippians 1:21) was to serve as a reminder to me that death is not the end for me but a glorious beginning.  What seems like many moons ago, when I was living a very selfish life contrary to what I believe, I began to develop an irrational fear of death.  Seriously, I would have what I assumed were panic attacks at the mere thought of dying.  And I thought about it a lot.  Not about killing myself, mind you but just that I may not have many days left on the earth.  The thought paralyzed me - something it should not do for a Christian who knows her home is in Heaven.

Fast forward to 2013.  That irrational fear of death has been replaced with a peace that passes all understanding.  Also, I began to focus my attention on the first part of Philippians 1:21, "To live is Christ..."

If, like me, you grew up in church and in the Word, then you've heard this verse many times but do you really know what that means?  I'm not sure I did.  I knew I wanted it as my new tattoo though and so I began to dwell on Philippians chapter one.  I also thought about it's writer, Paul and his life and ministry.  Then I focused in on the life of Christ.  That is when the words began to have real meaning for me.

Paul's life was not one of ease but of struggle, conflict and severe physical and mental anguish.  He knew that to depart and be with Christ was better by far but he also knew that it was more necessary to remain in the body and advance the Gospel.

To live is Christ.

Like Paul, as a follower of Christ I am to imitate HIS life and ministry.  In other words, I have not been called to a life of comfort and ease but of struggle, pain and doing the will of my Father in Heaven.  This is not easy to accept for a girl who has gotten used to her comfortable, selfish, American life.

To live is Christ.

So in a practical sense, what does this mean?  Should I move to a foreign field and live in a grass hut with no running water and eat cockroaches for every meal?  Maybe.  Or, maybe it starts as something simple.  Like giving up precious hours of sleep to minister to op camp kids or giving up food for a day or two (or more) in favor of fasting and praying.  Maybe it means a reworking of my budget.  Less categories focused on me and more focused on the Kingdom.  Those are just a few places to start...

To live is Christ.

What does it mean to you?

Shut the door, keep out the...birds?

I recently visited a friend who's name, for privacy's sake, I will not reveal.  Let's just call him "Alfred".  

Alfred has a problem. 

Specifically, Alfred has a bird problem.

Alfred bought two beautiful, white birds (I don't know what kind as I am not a bird afficianado) and a large cage and placed them in his spare bedroom.  At first, life with the birds was grand.  He enjoyed his new, musical friends and cared for them as any good pet owner would.  Then one day, Alfred returned home from work to find that the birds had managed to escape from their cage and had taken over the spare bedroom.  Alfred returned them to their home, hoping this would not become an issue.

It did.

Not only did the birds escape on a regular basis but on the occasion when Alfred did not completely close the bedroom door, he came home to find birds in his kitchen, birds in his bathroom, and consequently....bird poop scattered about the house.

What I find most interesting about this story is the current state of Alfred's birds.  They have taken over the spare room.  They perch on closet doors, window blinds, furniture and the like.  They use the floor and window sill as a bathroom and I can't help but imagine that as they squawk at their owner (who seems to have resigned himself to never using his spare room again) they are really mocking him and his feeble attempt to cage them.

Sure, Alfred could remedy the situation if he so desired but not without some time and effort...and lots of water, bleach and possibly paint.

I was immediately struck by Alfred's predicament because I could relate to it.  No, birds have not taken over my spare bedroom but there are so many instances in my life where I encountered a problem or predicament and instead of resolving it immediately, I simply shut the door and vowed to "fix it" later.

"I'll clean out my van later," I say.  Now my van is often mistaken for a dumpster on wheels.

"I'm going to organize my files soon." Heaven help me if I have to locate an old bill or receipt.

"I'll start paying off those credit cards next month."  Now I'm faced with a "bird poop" load of debt.

You get the idea.

We let things slide, thinking we will get to it soon and before we know it, "the birds" have taken over.  And yes, this is a sad place to be, especially when you look back and realize how easily it could all have been avoided.  Had Alfred fixed the cage the first day, he would still be able to use his spare room.  

But when does our "bird issue" go from sad to outright dangerous?  In my opinion, it's when the issue is a spiritual one.

When we allow sin - any sin - to creep into our lives without immediately eradicating it, we are giving Satan a foothold.  I'm here to tell you from experience that the devil is a lot like Alfred's birds.  He will quickly take over before you even know what happened and he leaves a lot of "crap" in his wake.  The one difference is, Satan can't be so easily relegated to one room or one area of our lives.  Sin, if left unchecked, unrepented for, can spread like a cancer.

With the arrival of this New Year, I can't help but think about resolutions and how I'd like to work on things like my cleanliness, organization and debt.  But an even better resolution, for all of us, would be to work  on nipping sin the bud and not giving the devil a foothold.  In 2013, may those of us who call ourselves "followers of Christ" live openly and unashamedly - spare bedrooms and all.