movement...

Dorothy was on the yellow brick road when she met a brave lion with swagger and braggadocio. He purred loudly and said, Put 'tem up, put 'tem! He roared and sang with a vibrato in his throat that would make Pavarroti jealous.... that was until Dorothy and the Tin Man exposed who he really was: a scared, trembling lion who lacked courage. 

Tomorrow is the Movement and I'm sharing at a workshop and could have one, one hundred, or one million people staring at me (I say this as I raise my pinky finger to the corner of my mouth and lift an Austinian eye brow). I'm so nervous and cowardly right now, I feel like grabbing my long, liony tail and crying, I do believe in Spooks, I do, I do. I represent the Lion of Judah and right now I feel like meow meow cat from the Kitty Litter commercial?! So, if you're not doing anything tomorrow at 4:00pm, come by and let's chat about missional living, the Samaritan woman, and how the Wizard of Oz gave me a badge of courage. If not, I'll be the one in the corner, wiping my tears with my eyes saying, I do believe in Spooks, I do, I do. 

Put 'tem up, put 'tem up,

B

crying out...

Proverbs 2:3 ...if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding...

I was moved yesterday by a conversation with a friend that caused me such ache and pain. My friend had been falsely accused, draped in lies, and a victim of libel. This morning I was on my knees crying that Truth triumph over lies, honestly over vindictive slander. I read the conditional promise in Proverbs 2, but focused on verse 3, if you cry out. . . . The Bible makes a clear distinction between “prayer” and “crying out to God.” Have there been times in life that seem so hopeless, that even crying seems pointless? This is the exact setting God wants to move in to demonstrate His loving care and powerful hand of protection.

Crying out is a humble reminder of our total inability to accomplish anything significant for God. God’s promise to the prophet Jeremiah years ago is true even for us today. Call unto Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know (Jeremiah 33:3). The creator of the universe wants intimate, loving fellowship with the people He created. But a vital component to fellowship is an actual voicing aloud to Him our need for Him.

There are several Hebrew words that describe calling out, but there is one specific verb which generally connotes the action of calling out or crying out loud with great volume.The Hebrew verb is qara and it is the verb used in Jeremiah 33:3. King David used this verb often as we see in Psalms 50:15, Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me, and Psalms 145:18, The Lord is near to all those who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth.

But what inhibits us? If crying out is a natural impulse, why is it so hard? Many of us find it humiliating and difficult to cry out for help in times of trouble. We prefer to be self-sufficient. We would rather endure tenaciously in the face of insurmountable odds and conclude with pride, I did it! But God works opposite to our lines of reasoning. He wants us to come to the conclusion, God did it! He asks that we recognize our weakness in order to experience His strength, so we can say with Paul, When I am weak, then I am strong. It takes a lot of humility to cry out to the Lord in our distress. But humility before the living God is what we precisely need!

Are you in a in desperate moment? Have you lost your job, persecuted by a professor, in bondage to sin, falsely accused? When Peter walked out to the Lord in Matthew 14:30-31 he was in desperate need for a miracle! If we need God to help in a desperate moment, I pray you call out like Peter: he cried out, ‘Lord save me!’ Immediately the Lord stretched out his hand and caught him.

Whatever your station in life, God wants to hear you cry out unto Him. He will show Himself faithful! “Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know.”

lessons from spock...

There are certain people you don't want to see films with. I'm one of them. I will critically analyze the script, dialogue, innuendos, acting, and over-arching theme of the movie. I believe there are life lessons in every movie and I will point them out before the credits begin to roll. 

For instance, at the end of Disney Pixar's Wall-E, I cried. Yes, people, I cried! My siblings looked at me and thought I cracked or something. As I wiped tears from my face I exclaimed, Don't you see it? It's the message of the gospel! Wall-E is like Jesus who gave his life for humanity, he spoke in ways that no one could understand, and he was rejected by the person he loved the most: you and I. He even died like Jesus, then came back to life... to life?! Then I cried some more.

Yes, I'm that girl. 

This weekend I became a bona fide Trekkie and succumbed to the pressure of the Force (or is that Star Wars? Whatever.). No, I'm not a sci-fi nerd, I just had to share what I learned about faith from Captain Spock. Yes, I said Spock. Bad eye brows and pointy ears aside, he uttered a profound truth that is still ringing in my head. The ideology of Vulcan philosophy believes in pure logic and a lifestyle devoid of emotion; rationality trumps probability. Yet, after living a life pure logic, Spock confesses to his counterpart that he had to make a decision that would be seemingly illogical. The young Spock looks at his future self and ask, So you took a risk? Which, in Vulcan ideology is unthinkable. The wise Spock confidently yet humbly replied, No, it was faith. 

The writer of Hebrews tells us faith is being sure of what we hope for, certain of things we do not see (11:1). Though we don't know who wrote Hebrews, I'm going to say that he taught Spock a lesson or two. So before the credits roll, let me tell you that sometimes it may feel that living a life for Jesus is illogical and irrational, but it's not a risk... it's faith. Faith that God will do what He says He will do in our lives. For, like Paul says, He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it until the day of Christ (Phil. 1:6). 

seated with giants...

Five churches in the Coachella desert came together for a lovely women's breakfast this past Saturday. I had the honor of teaching under the shade in a Garden of Eden-ish setting, complete with a running brook behind me and a stage with fragrant flowers beneath me. Upon leaving, the director of New Creations In Christ invited me to dinner. And I, being a lover of food, agreed!

I hoisted myself into the silver 15-passenger van at five o'clock and immediately was greeted by smiling faces. I was pleasantly surprised to see the motley crew of women from NCIC's Women's Home as they picked me up from my hotel. Little did I know I was seated next to giants. 

A lovely French-Armenian girl with manicured eyebrows and soft, pale skin, greeted me with a full smile. Her name was String Cheese because she arrived waif-like to the home at 87 pounds. Behind her was DuWan, a spirited red-head with heavily lined blue eyes, and a silver ring for every knuckle. Her wild laugh and infectious smile removed the edge from her dark painted finger nails peeking from her black leather jacket. To her left was Oklahoma, aptly nicknamed because, well, she's from Oklahoma. She was the quiet one who stared wide-eyed at everyone until she was addressed. Her soft voice and mild mannered demeanor caused a wave of surreal disbelief that I was surrounded by convicted felons. 

14,15, 17: the ages these women first got addicted to narcotics. With every toot, slam, snort, or puff, each woman slowly watched their life break apart into a million pieces only to be blown into the desert sand by the winds of dependency. Speed was the drug of choice for the natives of the Coachella desert, but each admitted to trying other drugs. All admitted that their dealers had laced the speed with heroine to get the girls addicted. Each had stories, each colored with personal, tragic, and heroic feats, each admitting the fear of going back... going back to the streets, going back to prison, going back to eating discarded food from hotel hallways, dumpsters, and plates. 

By the time we sat down for our Japanese dinner, I felt like a naive child who believed that Mister Rogers still asks everyone in TV land, won't you be mine, could you be mine, won't you be my neighbor? They assured me it was good to be sheltered. I assured them I agreed. But somewhere in the sushi sampling and teppan trying under Kobe's thatched roof, I realized I was seated with GIANTS. Giants like Goliath and Anakim? No, spiritual giants of faith like Ruth, Hannah, and Deborah. They sat with me and expected me to impart some divine revelation, but I could not stop asking questions. Questions which birthed more questions and after belaboring for over two hours, I finally got to hear Oklahoma quietly share her story of hope, restoration, and healing. She's only been in the program for four weeks, but her faith is that of four generations. She met God while in prison and she has yet to be failed by her Master. If I didn't go through all that I've gone through yesterday, I wouldn't be who I am today, said the soft spoken, mild mannered woman with wide eyes. I swallowed hard in attempts to push the lump that was forming in my throat back into my chest. 

We pulled into the hotel parking lot and the stories unfortunately had to stop there. I gave my hugs and blew my kisses to the Giants seated inside the silver 15-passenger van. While in my hotel room, I reflected on Paul's words to the Corinthians that I appropriate today for my new friends String Cheese, DuWan, Oklahoma, Becky, and Jen: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ he is a new creation; the old has gone, and the new has come! Ladies, your faith and determination to move forward has left an indelible mark on forefront of my mind. It was an honor to have been seated with giants.

se7en deadly sins...

There is a scene in Disney's Snow White where the fair skinned, hazel-eyed witch with full red lips looks into a mirror and the face staring back is a gnarled, green-with-envy, wart nosed, hag of a women. I was always intrigued at how the mirror could reveal such truths... until this past week. 

In light of some recent discussions and revelations, a Disneyesque mirror has exposed a very ugly person staring back at me. No, not ugly as in I have warts on my nose. Ugly as in the person inside has hidden underneath my bronze skin and freckles for far too long. The longer I stare into this proverbial mirror, the more I see the gnarled truths, wort-cursed sins, and obsessions that make me green with envy. As Paul went into the desert, and John went into the desert, and Moses went into the desert, and Jesus went into the desert, I too will be heading into the desert to seek God. I'll be speaking in Palm Springs tomorrow morning and extending my trip to prepare for the upcoming series I'll be teaching.

I'm so grateful for those who honestly and candidly shared their struggles on the sin du jour post. Because of the honesty, God has totally, amazingly, radtastically revealed the next summer series I'll be teaching at Calvary Montebello starting June 23rd. Virtually all the comments revealed battles with lust, gluttony, envy, greed, anger, depression and contentment which parlayed with the Medieval discussion of the seven deadly sins (click here for more info).

So...

his channel and chocolate chip cookies...

Last night I scoured the pantry for something to take away my nerves. Fortunately/unfortunately a bag of chocolate chip cookies called me to my death like a siren to sailors. The camera adds ten pounds, I said to myself. Wear black and get over it. 

Today I will be interviewed with my mom on His Channel about Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Happiness (i.e. cancer, family, God). If you are tired of watching Jerry Springer reruns, organizing your office paper clip collection, or gauging your eyes out in board meetings, watch us on Today's Faith with Cheryl Brodersen at 12:30pm (PST). 

[PS: I'll be the one in black, wiping chocolate chip crumbles from the corner of my lips]

fathered by god...

I've read his books, his reviews, his critiques. Trying to come to a conclusion about John Eldredge and Ransomed Heart Ministries has been difficult amidst the swarms of praise and cacophony of criticism. However, last night I was invited to hear him speak on an issue I care about: men.

Sitting in an auditorium with about 2,500 other people yet still feeling like I'm in an intimate conversation with someone 100 feet away from me is quite a feat; yet John pulled it off quite well (yes, John and I are on a first name basis now). Humble, articulate, and personable, we spent two hours discussing the journey of man and the role of father. I took five pages of notes and felt like I could have taken more. 

Driving down Culver Avenue in Irvine I reflected on my own relationship with my earthly father. He lacked everything a child would need for a healthy, successful life, but by the grace of God, he is proverbially moving mountains, bringing the spiritually dead back to life, causing blind to see, and loving our family in spite of our dysfunctions. He loves in all Love Languages so I guess that would make him fluent in the language of love. Gifts to let me know he cares from places unknown, Words of Affirmation to let me know I'm beautiful when some other man doesn't, Quality Time to pour into me like he poured into our plastic tea cups on our linoleum floor, Physical Touch to magically heal my bumps and bruises with warm kisses of care, and Acts of Service to help me do this things called Life.  

Papi,

No words in any language could express to you the debt I owe you. You have given me more than life... you have given me love. When I felt unlovable, you found me worthy. When I felt unintelligent, you found me to be brilliant. When I felt ugly, you said I was beautiful. When I felt rejected, you accepted me with all my imperfections. As your child, I am who I am today because of you and the sacrifices you made.

The past two years have been so trying on our whole family, but I see you for the man you once were... and even better, the man you are becoming. You may not realize this, but I know GOD because of YOU. I have never felt the tangible hand of God, voice of God, or compassion of God, but I have felt you. Thank you for being my first encounter with my Redeemer.

I owe you a debt I could never pay,
Bianca

one of these things don't belong...

Circa 1986 I laid on the wooden floor of my living room with my chin resting on the grooves of my knuckles and watched episodes of Sesame Street until my eyes glazed over and I discovered that the specific episode of the day was brought to me by the letter R. Ernie and Bert were like my cousins, Big Bird was like a dorky neighbor, and Snuffaupagus was like my peppy friend who had eyelashes to D.I.E for. I loved watching every episode and owe much of my early childhood education to Mr. Hooper, Oscar the Grouch, and Olivia (the resident Puerto Rican).

Well, it's 2009 and I still feel the effects of 1234 Sesame Street. During almost every episode a song would come on that I could still quote for you today:

One of these things is not like the others.

One of these things just doesn't belong,

Can you tell which thing is not like the other,

By the time I finished singing this song?

A few weeks ago I got a phone call informing me that I was invited to speak at an event for over 10,000 youth in the Southern California area. I tried my best to sound calm, cool, and collected... but I sounded more like Screetch Powers from Saved by the Bell. The person on the other end of the phone rattled off the names of the other speakers and I casually let out an audible um hm every now and then to make it seem like I was writing down pertinent information for the workshop I'll do doing. But the truth was that I was only thinking of one thing: How in the world did I make the roster?! I am SO not at the caliber of these people?!

After I hung up the phone, the melodic tones of 1234 Sesame St. crept into the crevices of my mind.

One of these things is not like the others.

One of these things just doesn't belong,

Can you tell which thing is not like the other,

By the time I finished singing this song?

Then I shoved that song out of my mind and realized that this is an opportunity to connect to the hearts and minds of the next generation. Who gives a rip if I don't belong?

If you're a teen or young adult in the OC area on Saturday, May 30th, check out the Movement. It's going to be epic!