Baller.

This morning at Athens Church was the beginning of a new series (it’s actually not new, but it is new to me) from Louie Giglio called “Seeing God as a Perfect Father.” Today’s message was entitled “What You Think About When You Think About God.” The name comes from a book by A.W. Tozer, in which he writes that the most important thing about a person is what he thinks about when he thinks about God. So this afternoon I started to think about what I see when I, you guessed it, think about God. My visual picture of Jesus is pretty much what he looks like in every painting or movie that I’ve ever seen. I have no idea what Jesus really looked like, but I picture him as an attractive guy, definitely really tan, with flowing brown locks and a neatly trimmed beard. This is probably not a very accurate picture, because my Jesus is white, which he would not have been, and he probably didn’t have the capabilities of keeping his beard neat, and his hair probably wasn’t clean, and I’m sure he had all kinds of dirt and sand and stuff on him. Regardless of the inaccuracies of this mental picture, his physical appearance is not what’s important. So I made a list of the adjectives that come to mind when I think about God:

Loving

Just

Perfect

Strong

Righteous

All-powerful

Omnipotent

Patient

Graceful

Merciful

Wise

Unmatched

I could go on and on. But really, these words can’t even begin to form a true picture of what God is. He is stronger than I can fathom. He is more merciful than I can understand. He is the only true “perfect” thing in the world. He is truly indescribable. But what really blows my mind is the fact that He is my Father. My dad.

I don’t know about you, but I think my dad is the best dad there is. God has blessed me beyond belief. If I wrote down everything that I love about my dad, everything that he has taught me, and how much I admire and respect him, this post would be incredibly long. When my sister and I were younger and Daddy took us to school, he would always tell us “Nobody loves you like your Daddy.” Every morning, the same words. Eventually the three of us made a game out of it. The goal was to say it first. You could only say it once we pulled into the parking lot. I don’t think the winner got a prize or anything, but we stilled played to win. Even though he said it every morning, and it got to the point when I didn’t even pay attention to the words, I will always remember that. To this day, when I leave home to drive back to college, he says it to me, and I know that he means every word. So basically, my dad is a baller.

If my earthly father is that incredible and he loves me so much, and God is infinitely greater, there is no way that I could ever come close to describing him. But what is so amazing to me is that God, the creator of the universe, calls me his daughter. No matter how epic my failures, no matter how many times I stray, or make ridiculous attempts of trying to live by own rules and plans, he stills calls me his child. So really, no one loves me like my Daddy, not even my dad. 

“Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer a slave, but a son; and since you are a son, God has also made you an heir.” Galatians 4:6-7

Isn’t that legit/exciting/awesome/comforting/mindblowing? Yeah, my dad created the world, he is greater than words can communicate, he is perfect in every way, and he still considers me his daughter. Beat that.

You should watch this video. I watch it several times a week, and it never gets old. It gets me pumped, especially the very end. You'll see what I mean. That's my king (dad)! 

Flyin' High

I’ve always said, “I wish that I had really cool things to write about. Then I would have a blog.” But today I was thinking, and I decided that I may not be that cool, but in the past few months I’ve had some really awesome things happen to me. The most recent of these was the BCM Spring Break mission trip to New Orleans. I didn’t really know what to expect going into this trip, but any preconceptions were quickly proven wrong. It did not take long, and by that I mean it took about 30 minutes, for me to realize that my plans/desires and God’s most definitely do not always line up. I started out in the Sprinter. I was really excited about the group. We even had trivia and homemade cookies! But before we even made it off of 316, the Sprinter decided to stop sprinting. So the group was split up, and I ended up spending the rest of the trip in a different bus. Before we made it out of Georgia, I knew that I was in for quite an adventure beyond anything I could have planned or imagined.

On the other side of the sign, it said "God is awesome."
I didn't get the chance to take a photo, but I loved it.

When I was placed on a construction team, I immediately thought of hammers, power tools, and/or demolition. I’m not going to lie; I was pretty excited about it. Needless to say, I was a little (or a lot) upset when I learned that construction teams 4 and 5 would be spending the week at Williams Boulevard Baptist Church, painting walls and moving around some furniture, books, and creepy puppets. On our first two work days I was under the impression that while our actions were nice and helpful to the church, in the big picture they were petty and meaningless. But the longer we spent at the church, and the more we talked to the staff, especially Tommy, the only maintenance man for the massive building, I realized just how wrong my thinking was. Basically, this church and its people are amazing. It is so obvious that they put God before themselves in everything they do. Immediately after Katrina, they housed and fed the National Guard for six months. I can’t even begin to fathom what a monstrous undertaking that must have been. Every day it seemed like I learned about another one of their incredible ministries. By Wednesday I was convinced that our work was anything but meaningless. If a fresh coat of paint helps the church reach more people and spread the love of God, then I was happy to help. If all we did was make Tommy’s job a little easier, then I considered the week to be successful. Before we left the church on Friday afternoon, we prayed with Tommy, and his emotion was the highlight of my week. Our efforts were a blessing to him, but just being around him was a blessing to me, and I’m sure the rest of Team 9 feels the same way. His dedication to his church, his community, and his God is so inspiring to me. The city of New Orleans has been through so much, but I have no doubt that God is working in the Big Easy.

We painted this room and 5 more I think. This one was originally
lime green, hot pink, and orange. This is 3 coats of primer and 2
coats of Cinnamon Cake later.

I had so much fun this week, during the day and in our free time. Like Tommy said to us, “If you don’t have fun on a mission trip, you’ll never go on another one.” Through some funny experiences (tow truck, pterodactyl, sugar packets?) to some pretty sketchy ones (lost in the French Quarter on St. Patrick’s Day night?) I had an amazing time with some of the coolest people I know. Construction Team 9 (teams 4 and 5 joined into one huge group) was such a blessing to me. I really enjoyed getting to know such awesome people, new faces and people that I really didn’t know very well before. After countless coats of Cinnamon Cake and Wild Porcini, five iPod shuffle hours, hearing “Grenade” about 100 times, throwing random objects onto a trailer from a third-floor balcony, and a really cool gang sign, I was sad to be split up at the end of the week.

Although heading back to Athens was bittersweet, I took away some great lessons and memories. I’ll never forget sitting in the hallway giggling from a few too many paint fumes, or taking a little “detour” on the way back to the hotel one day (I heart diesel!), or calling the Dawgs on the steps in front of St. Louis Cathedral. But most importantly, I will take away the lesson that God should be given the glory for everything I do. My desire to do something other than paint some rooms in a church was gone by the end of the week. God knew what he was doing when he led my team to Williams Boulevard. It doesn’t matter if our efforts were noticed or not. Some people at the church probably will not even notice them, and if they do, they won’t know who was there all week. While at one point in my life, I would have liked for people to know how hard I worked or what all my team accomplished, this trip reminded me that that’s not important. We did God’s work this week, whether we understand our role or not.

Team 9 flies high for life!

As I reluctantly go back to class in the morning, I go back with the feeling that my BCM family and I glorified God this past week, whether anyone else knows about it or not. My pride took a major shot this week, and that’s a good thing. My life is not to be spent pursuing my own glory, but glorifying my Heavenly Father with everything I do. It feels good to know that He is control. If I was the mastermind behind this mission trip, I’m sure it would have been a failure of epic proportions. Good thing the big guy upstairs has everything in his hands.