Pictures

“[W]e will determine not to waste on anything but uncompromising, unconditional abandonment to a gracious, loving Savior who invites us to take a radical risk and promises us radical rewards.”

 - Radical by David Platt

Oh, the word pictures that this phrase brings up in my mind.

I hear “uncompromising” and I think of a Denver ministry trip where we spent a week crammed body to body in spaces so tiny that there was barely room for our entire team to stand or sit. But, more than the tight space, I think of the way that we watched each other grow and be pushed. I remember sitting knee to knee and waiting as, night after night, teenaged guys broke down in tears. I hear our worship and the surrender that it contained. And, I see the laughter that encompassed it all.

I hear “unconditional” and I think of an overnight Bridgetown trip where the kids didn't care if they didn't have a sleeping bag or a pillow or a change of clothes. But, more than that, I think of watching them love people in their present, rather than in spite of their past. I remember the unflinching way that they watched as we flicked hundreds of ants off of their breakfast and then handed it to them to eat. I hear them laughing and smiling as they sat in front of the church we were locked out of. And, I see them stopping to just soak in the wonder of a waterfall.

I hear “abandonment” and I am back on Winter Retreat my freshman year of high school, sitting for hours as teenager after teenager shares the things that God is doing in our lives. I can still feel the cold edges of the chair and hear the low whine of the box fans, see the light glinting off of the rafters and the cross. More than that, though, I remember the sense of the Holy Spirit, the feeling that we could stay here forever and barely notice the difference when earth finally faded into heaven.

“Gracious” is the absolute joy that courses through my body when I see the name of a classmate from high school listed as a men's small group leader.

“Loving” is a camp for foster kids, standing beneath a giant climbing wall, watching as one of my Sunday school kids slowly works his way up, too petrified to look down or hear what his counselor is saying. I hear myself call out to him, and I see him look down at me and smile and suddenly keep moving. I remember that this is the child who lied to me, stole from our box every chance he got, started fights with other kids, wrestled his sister to the floor, and I hear the wonder in his counselor's voice as he says, “He trusts you.”

I hear “Savior” and I remember sitting in a hard wooden chair in Kenya, trying to share my story with a woman who has, just days before, accepted Christ and now wants, desperately, to know how to live. I remember the heat and the way that my long black skirt sticks to my legs. I hear the kids in their classrooms across the sandy play-field. And, I see her smile.

This “loving,” “gracious” “Savior” asks that we “abandon” ourselves in “unconditional,” “uncompromising” devotion to Him.

Somehow, in light of the word pictures, that phrase becomes a little less radical and a little more, “well, duh,” like, maybe, the more radical response would be to not live that way. (In which case, I choose to be radical on a nearly hourly basis.)

What about you? What have you seen and heard? What do you remember?