the garments of righteousness.

We stepped into the room and immediately felt out of place. In this tiny Church on a small island on the coast of Nicaragua, in this room full of 100 people, all of them were wearing white. Every single person in the pew was dressed in white from head to toe. Except for us. We were wearing t-shirts that probably resembled the rainbow. Suddenly, we did not belong. Suddenly we were unworthy.

I imagine this might be what it feels like entering heaven and realizing that in all your righteous deeds, you were never washed clean. In all your servings and musings you never let God wash you white as snow.

How tragic that in this season of Easter we still try to cover ourselves up with righteous deeds? We go to church, we say the prayers, we sing the songs. But where are our hearts?

I don't know about you, but it is impossibly difficult for me to to just let Jesus' blood wash me clean. There are two sides of the spectrum for me. On one side, I work really hard. I do all the right things and I say all the right words. But my heart is a mask and I hide what is truly inside. But in my efforts to cover up my sin, I devise my own white garments, and in their off-set white, hope that no one else will notice.

On the other side, I run. I avoid Jesus. Because I know I'm not worthy and I know I will not measure up. I am afraid He will look at me and declare the words, "Guilty." He will look and see my off-set white garment and know he didn't give it to me. Maybe, though, he will tell me I am not worth a garment of his. What if He says, "You do not belong."

It is true, ALL of my deeds are filthy rags. ALL of my works, good and bad, do not measure up. We will NEVER be righteous in his eyes by our own. Isaiah says it best. "We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away."

A polluted garment. An unclean rag. Something that would have been used to birth a child, or clean the dead. Not just our sins are compared to this, but our righteous deeds. The things we bring to Jesus and say, "Look! Look at what I have done for you! Look at what I have done to advance your kingdom! Look how many times I did my quiet time this week Jesus. Look, do you see how righteous I am?"

Our righteous deeds are worthy of destruction. Our righteous deeds are stained by our sin and our pride. Our righteous deeds are unclean. 

We feel defeated then. In our society that tells us to do everything we can to measure up, we fall short. We fail. We are hopeless. We are the ones in that room that think we have done enough, but everyone else is wearing white like snow, and we are wearing our own version of righteousness and it smacks us in the face declaring, we are unworthy.

Romans 3:24-26
For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God's righteousness because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus. 

It takes us back to the cross. It takes us to the feet of Jesus. The only one who was unworthy to face the death that he faced for us. The Only one who is worthy to step into Yahweh's presence. He is the ONLY one. But out of his great love for us, he took the cross. He was beaten unrecognizable. Mocked to humiliation. His garments ripped from his body, only to show us perfect righteousness. He is the only one that ever felt what it truly means to be abandoned. Even then, He did it in love for you.

God's words in Isaiah read, "come now, let us reason together though your sins are like scarlet, they will be white as snow."

Take your off-set white rags off and let Jesus adorn you in garments white as snow. Let his blood wash away all your sins this Easter season. Don't let his death be in vain. Stop trying to make yourself worthy, when it is Jesus that makes you worthy.  That tiny Church in Nicaragua gave me a forever picture of what it means to stand before Jesus realizing that my deeds are not enough. But his are, and he covers me.

Rest in this fact alone today that because of his death 2000 years ago, you can live, you are clean. You are white as snow.

When I Said I Would Follow You...

Rumors had been spreading quickly around the land. John the Baptist had been the talk as of late. He had gone around proclaiming that the Kingdom of God was near! Repent and be baptized! It was strange, Israel hadn't had a prophet in over 500 years. The times had been in upheaval. Years ago Herod had called for all the children and babies to be killed so he could overthrow a King before he even arose. But John had been arrested. There was a new man proclaiming the Kingdom of God. Except the rumors stated that He spoke with more authority and that he was more gentle yet more commanding than anyone they had ever met. It was said that his name was Jesus. 

This was the topic for discussion the evening before their boats were rocked. Simon and Andrew, James and John were fishing on the Sea of Galilee just as they did every evening. It hadn't been a good night. The fish were not biting, it was like they scattered to the bottom of the ocean, just to avoid bringing prosperity to these four men. How grateful they were that they didn't have children of their own to return to empty handed.

They saw a mysterious man by the shore who was lingering near them, glancing at their nets, gazing into their eyes. They knew in that moment it was the man that rumors were being spread about. It was Jesus. He said, "Follow me and I will make you fishers of men." They didn't even have time to think because the authority in his voice and the gentleness in his eyes summoned them out of complacency and they came. 

How were these four men to know how Jesus would turn not only their boats upside down but their world? Do you think that in that moment they had known the places that Jesus would take them? The truths he would reveal? The hearts he would heal?

Or what about the trial? Do you think they knew that ultimately Jesus would be mocked, arrested and crucified? Or that there was the threat of those same things for them? 

Did they know they would be advocates for the biggest religion in the world? Did they know they would be the first converts of heart change?

There was no way these men could have known. 

Their choice to follow him reflects a decision of a five-year-old when in their simplistic minds they tell Jesus they want to follow him. Maybe their reasonings consist of being saved from Hell or this is what their parents say is best, but they still choose to follow him and the commitment must be strengthened with time. 

I could go on for hours about the many stories in the Gospels of Jesus discipling these men. Giving his heart and his love to these men. They were there for it all. His teachings, his parables, the healings, exorcisms, and love. 

They had heard it all. When he said, "Foxes have holes and birds have nests but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head."
"I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beware or men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them and the Gentiles. When they deliver you over, do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that house."

They knew the cost and still when it came time for Jesus to be delivered over to the courts, their faith faltered and for a moment, they questioned if they had made the right decision all those years ago when they left everything comfortable and sure.

How could they forget? Maybe this sounds all too familiar.

 We know the cost of following Jesus. We prayed that prayer in our childhood that saved us from Hell, and we rededicated our lives at summer camp and retreats when things didn't seem to be going well. 

But there came a point when we had to choose Jesus for real. Maybe it was a point of surrender when you finally gave it all to Jesus and said, "You can have me." Maybe it was a heart heavy with grief and you finally realized that his burden was easy and his yoke was light.  Maybe you were drowning  in sin and you realized he was your only redemption. But you came to a point when you gave Jesus everything. 

But hard things come into our lives. Death, sickness, divorce, heartbreak, financial burdens, cars get destroyed, our bodies wear out. And our initial surrender is tested. Will we follow Jesus even when it is hard? This is completely opposite of the prosperity Gospel where if I give Jesus my life, He will give me a nice house, a great car and lots of money. This is opposite of what we see on Christian movies where if I surrender the things I'm holding onto I'll get what I want: my marriage will be restored, my spouse will ask for forgiveness, my barrenness will be rectified, I will be debt free, and my relationships will be peaceful. This is even opposite of most of our churches that we attend on Sunday wearing our best, acting our best, painting the most convincing act. We come to see a show, filled with the very best actresses and actors and when we go home our lives are vastly different. Don't we know that Church is supposed to be a hospital for the broken? A place to disciple and love each other well?

If you read the Gospels this is exactly the opposite of what Jesus promises to his disciples! He promises hardship and homelessness. He guarantees persecution and being poorly treated. And He still calls them, and us, to proclaim the Kingdom of God! He says, "Yes, this is going to be harder than you could ever imagine. This is going to take you places that you would never go on your own. Your heart will be broken again and again, but behold, I am with you wherever you go." 

When I gave my life to Jesus when I was five and I prayed a simple prayer that invited Jesus into my heart to save me from Hell. 

And I don't know if my heart was ready to give God my everything when I was 12 and I rededicated my life to God because fear wrecked my life and nothing was stable.

But I think it was a start.

When God took me out of the chaos for one year to get to know him better and we took a walk through the neighborhoods behind my house and I counted the cost of following Jesus, I discovered joy. I walked through those streets and joy flooded my heart and I gave my heart fully to Jesus. Not just to live inside, but to transform and wreck and change and heal.
When I said I would follow Jesus to the ends of the earth, to the greatest joys and the deepest hurts, I didn't know He would take me here. 

Following you isn't easy. Often I would much rather follow adventure, my heart, and happiness. How misleading these fleeting pleasures. Because when I said I would follow you, it was for better or worse. Richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish forever.

Following Him has taught me adventure and love. Following Him has been the hardest thing I have ever done and will ever do. But it is also the most rewarding, most wonderful and beautiful thing I could have ever requested. This is not a place I would have ever placed myself. I have glamorized the mission field in my heart because I loved the adventure and I loved the beauty of the cultures. But my temporary adventures on the mission field were also incredibly hard. I wept for children who might never hear the Gospel again despite the words we had spoken. I watched a mother train her daughter to worship a god. The child stretched herself out on the ground, face down, in front of a stone. There was nothing I could do. This mission field was hard. 

The mission field is hard. Every day I go to Starbucks and there is a call on my life to be a witness to my co-workers, to share the great hope that I have. The question is raised as the Lord whispers to my heart, "Who will go for me?" 

When I said I would follow Jesus, I didn't think my mission field would be the backrooms of Starbucks or the campus of a Christian college or teenage girls in my small group at youth group who oftentimes don't seem to care. But when I said I would follow Jesus, I said I would follow HIM. So I will choose to follow him to the places he wants to go. To the hearts of my co-workers, my classmates. I will choose to follow him because He is worth more. 

Like the call of those first disciples, I will follow Jesus because of who He is. Not the hard journey I'm guaranteed to walk, but because of Jesus' beautiful and unshakeable character. When I said I would follow Him, I meant it.