See Something More

I was by myself as I walked down the stairs of the hospital, headed toward the parking lot. One last time. This was it - my last clinical day. That's when I saw another nursing student, one of my peers, walking out at the same time. Our eyes met and locked because we knew this was a moment to remember. Never again would we wear these blindingly white scrubs with the little Harding logo. Never again would we stay up late the night before to complete pages of paper work. Never again would we enter the hospital setting as students. The next time we go to a hospital, it won't be for clinical. We will be the real nurses! We shared a hug and a few tears as we celebrated the mile marker. When I got into my car, I don't know where the came from, but the tears started running down my face. I had a flashback as I remembered my very first week of nursing school. It was right before my very first clinical, and I had just finished a long orientation for acute that lasted several h

She asked a simple but profound question that summed it all up. Here we were, processing through all the events of the weekend after visiting nine different religious centers in a weekend. "I hear these people talk about their faith, but what do they do with it? I just wonder have to wonder: what is the point?" my friend asked. Her observation was valid because from all the people we talked to and all the rituals we observed and all the questions we asked, it was hard to understand the bottom line of these faiths. Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Baha'i, Sikhism, Soka Gakkai, Judaism. What is the point? Some did not believe in an afterlife. Some did not believe in a higher power at all. When a higher power was acknowledged as a creator, no one was able to give an explanation of why he would do such a thing except maybe to display his power. Most said that the idea of "evangelism" or sharing their faith was not important. Even of those that did value proselytiz

Dressed in our Sunday best, we walked into the conservative Jewish Synagogue and took our seats among the devoted Jews during the Sabbath service. They read from the Torah and paraded it around the room so that everyone had the chance to touch their prayer book to the Torah and then kiss it. They brought a couple to the front of the room, announced their upcoming marriage, and threw candy at them while exclaiming, "Mazel Tov!" They sang some and prayed some, I think. It was hard to tell because the entire ceremony was in Hebrew except for one short section and a few words of explanation here and there. One student reported that he spoke with a Jewish man as they were walking out of the synagogue together. The Jewish man said, "Yeah, I didn't understand half of what they were saying either." Our next stop was the Baha'i center. This new religious movement seeks the unity of all humanity and religions. In other words (from the perspective of our class), they

I took off my shoes at the door, placed them in the racks along with everyone else's shoes, and tiptoed across the cool floor of the Hindu temple. I was slightly nervous because I did not know what to expect, and I had never been in such a place before. As a part of the Living World Religions class that I am taking this semester, the entire class gets to go on a field trip to Dallas and participate in a world religions tour. At our first destination, the Hindu temple, we heard a presentation by a Hindu on Hinduism. He spoke of the "attributeless god" who is in everything, including each of us and everything that we see. Our purpose in life is to deny ourselves in order to reveal this piece of deity in each of us. Once we have mastered this and accumulated enough good karma, then we will be dissolved into the great attributeless god. We walked through the temple, passed all the shrines with the gold images and decorative flowers, and observed a family paying the prie

I peeked my head out of the sleeping bag and saw that the sky was gathering light from the morning sun. I watched the tops of the trees move back and forth in rhythm with the swinging of my hammock. I listened to a single crow caw, but all else was peacefully silent. Although I went to bed late and tossed and turned a couple of times in the night, I couldn't wait to get up with the sun. For some reason, it is hard to sleep in when camping.  I didn't realize how cold it was outside until I ventured out of my down sleeping bag. I shivered while trying to make a fire with frozen fingers, but I didn't mind. I actually secretly enjoyed it. I stirred up the hot coals from the night before and didn't even need a match to light some small sticks. I boiled enough water to enjoy two cups of hot chocolate, which steamed beautifully in the morning air and mixed with the rustic smoke from the camp fire.  I just sat there. For almost two hours. Still and silent. Listening to t

"The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then he said to the tree, 'May no one ever eat fruit from you again.' And His disciples heard him say it." Mark 11:12-14 Not too long after that, the disciples passed that same fig tree and noticed that it was all withered up. You kind of feel a little sorry for the fig tree. After all, it wasn't the season for figs. Why so harsh, Jesus? Cut the fig tree some slack.  But what if we are actually expected to produce fruit out of season? What if Jesus calls and enables us, like the fig tree, to produce fruit even when it is not in season? "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." (Galatians 5:22-23) This fruit that we produce is the a

David, a famous character of the Bible, is known for the story of his fight with Goliath and his sin with Bathsheba. When you read his whole story, though, throughout 2 Samuel, you may find that there are a ton of stories about David with which we are not as familiar. Most of them are battle stories. I read story after story after story of armies, attacks, raids, conquests, and ambushes. It seems like David was always fighting. It makes me wonder. Because so often we do everything to escape our battles, thinking that a godly life is one that is free from struggling and fighting. But then I look at David and I wonder. What if we as Christ-followers are called to engage in intense spiritual warfare rather than shy away from it. What if we are called to embrace rather escape our suffering? What is we are called to fight rather than resist? At the Passion conference this past year, Francis Chan spoke and said something that I will always remember. He was talking about those times wh

Who would have thought that pulling weeds could be so meaningful? As some girls and I plucked weeds in the flower beds for a service project this weekend, we talked about the Lord. "Isn't it true that all of creation knows who God is? Isn't is funny how we are picking these weeds when they may sometimes be more sure of who God is than we are?" I don't think the Bible says that exactly, but it does say this: Romans 1:20: "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities - his eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood form what has been made, so that people are without excuse." Psalm 8:1: "O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens." Psalm 19:1-2: "The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the works of his hands. Day and night they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. One thing is certa

One of my all-time favorite songs is called "Desert Song"  by Hillsong. The first verse goes like this: This is my prayer in the desert when all that's within me feels dry. This is my prayer in my hunger and need. My God is the God who provides. I don't know about you, but if I were writing this song, this would be my prayer in the desert: God, please help me. Please deliver me. Save me. Get me out of here. But that is not the chorus of this song. This is our prayer in the desert... I will bring praise. I will bring praise. No weapon formed against me shall remain. I will rejoice; I will declare God is my victory and He is here. The difference  is extraordinary. Instead of begging and pleading in the desert, there is the overflow of worship and praise. It reminds me of a story in 2 Chronicles 20 when the Israelites are facing a vast army that outnumbers them to the point of hopelessness. Jehoshaphat, after spending some time inquiring of the Lord ab