Memorial to God's Goodness

It is the wee hours of September 20th.

One year ago today I was on my way to the doctor's office for an appointment that would confirm, according to my doctor father, at least, that I had cancer.

A year ago tonight, I was in my friend's basement (known here as Guiness. The friend, that is, not his basement) almost crying because of the daunting day ahead.

And then the appointment came. Tests were done, machines beeped, doctors went to find other doctors to look at ultrasounds and scratch their heads. In the end they came up with the most outlandish description of how I had some kind of tumor-esque thing going on that wasn't actually cancerous at all. The shock registered before the joy, but once the joy hit, I was ecstatic. I feel like I have a vague idea of what it must've been like for the blind man to have his sight given to him.

And then I went out telling people. I went shouting from the rooftops about God's goodness, because he had saved me from this fatal disease. It became my new evangelism schtick.

One of the people I told was Crepe:

"Crepe, guess what! I don't have cancer!"
"No way! That's awesome! I was praying for you all day!"
"Yeah, God is SO good, wow!"

and then there was a pause.

and then, in a moment of gentle-yet-convicting wisdom that only Crepe can pull off, she asked,

"But would God still be good if it was cancer?"


more to come on this later

The Icing on the Cake

Being a passionate lover of metaphor, here's a light-hearted one that came to me while on some bus departing from Kildonan Place with someone very dear to me, who, sticking with the food-names, will be called Omlette.

Anyway, I digress.

We all know what, "icing on the cake" means. It means that the cake is complete, whole, finished, not left in wanting, but that something more has been added to it to make it EVEN better.

Our relationship with God needs to be like that cake. Of course, our relationship with God is never 'finished' (in the sense that there's no more room from growth), but we need to be content with God, to truly agree with Paul when he says "to live is Christ and to die is gain". That's the cake.

Then there's the temporal good stuff of life, let's use the example of a relationship. A relationship is the icing on the cake. It's not necessary for its wholeness, but it definitely makes it considerably sweeter.

:)

Tour Guides

Sometimes you look back in life and, in retrospect, realize the profound impact that some simple event or person or word had on your view of things. Other times, you realize the effect it's having right when you experience it. Today on the #55 bus on Beliveau, reading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell, was one of those times.

"Notice what [Paul] does in the Book of Acts. He visits the city of Lystra, which hasn't heard of Jesus or the God Paul believes in, and he tried to figure out how to explain his Christian worldview to them. He tells them , "[God] has not left himself without testimony: He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy."

Paul essentially asks his audience: Have you had enough food? Who do you think it comes from?

Has it rained so your crops could grow? Who do you think did that?

Have you ever laughed? Who do you think made that possible?

Missions, then, is less about the transportation of God from one place to another and more about the identification of a God who is already there [...] you see God where others don't. And then you point him out.

Perhaps we ought to replace the word missionary with tour guide, because we cannot show people something we haven't seen.

(Back to Josh's voice now) Of course this raises a ton of questions (not to mention a few eyebrows), but its a completely different angle on evangelism, one that will definitely change the way I share the gospel, whether it be at school, downtown, in some distant jungle, or frick, even on the #55 bus on Beliveau.