Oxfordian Bliss

I am in love with Oxford, Wycliffe, OCCA, EVERYTHING. I have never been so perpetually ecstatic about anything in all my life - except for the 10 weeks following my baptism. I am happy, and content, and excited, and thankful to God for all that he is doing in my heart, mind, and life. I am making friends daily, and I feel like I've known them forever.

Sometimes I remember that I am here "on my own" and Spiff has long since left, but it sure doesn't feel like it. I feel like I've found the family of believers that I've been searching for my whole life. I've found the community I've been longing for. I'm submerged in the Biblical teaching I've come to love immeasurably. (Though, I should clarify that the English like to welcome you for 2 weeks before they start classes, so we don't have lectures for another week or so...) And I'm studying under some of the world's leading theologians!! (We're talking John Lennox and Alistair McGrath, not to mention Ravi's leading apologists!)

Everything I strived for at Calvary, Camp, and Houghton - community, fellowship, biblical submersion - but was never able to establish, I have found right here at Oxford. I can't even believe that God has provided this, everything I've prayed and ached for all these years. It's more than a dream come true. Each day it gets better and better, and it's only getting started. The students (about 150) are all thriving, genuine Christians training to be leaders in the Church, they are thankful people, and they truly love each other. I've never seen such a healthy or lovely community of believers. (Or so many young men with pregnant wives!)

The OCCA program is made up of 13 students who are meshing immediately. And even though we only met yesterday, we are already sitting together at meals and gatherings, and yet we are integrating so well into the student body that you can hardly tell the OCCA folks from the regular Wycliffe students, because we are all friends together. (Regular Wycliffe students would be the seminary students, most of whom are studying to be ordained in the Anglican church ("ordinands"), as well as a few independents. OCCA is like the "little brother" of Wycliffe...we're not exactly seminary students, but they love us anyway.)

The city of Oxford is beautiful, and safe (OXFORD, people! I'm in friggin Oxford!!!). Several of the OCCA folks are here at the NOOC (where I live), so we see each other pretty often. I even got a ride to Wycliffe by the Spaniard and the Ukrainian. And then later I walked home around 10 all by my lonesome, and felt completely safe. (Safer than I felt at Camp, even.) It's just crazy. This whole experience is crazy.

And guess what! Monday is the 7 month mark of when I got baptized, and fell in love with God all over again. I am sooo excited. It's like a birthday, almost. 7 whole months of the hardest journey of my life, no kidding. 7 is God's perfect number, after all. People, celebrate with me!!!!

The Night

"See!" Joshua said to the people. "This stone will be a witness against us. It has heard all the words the LORD has said to us. It will be a witness against you if you are untrue to your God." (Joshua 24:27)


Following the Lord is hard. Being a Christian is hard. Obedience is hard. Count the cost, Jesus said. And I did. For a week of existential desperation, I searched my heart, devoured Scripture, spent hours in prayer, fasted way more than was healthy. I counted every cent of what it would cost me. I screened the voice of the Lord more meticulously than I ever have before. I had to be sure. I had to know that it was God. I had to know that I was willing to risk everything I was, everything I desired and feared, for this great commission. God had laid out in black and white what he was asking of me. Frankly, he was asking for everything. Everything I never wanted to give.

And yet... it was everything I had vowed to give him on February 24. I just had no idea that this is how he would ask for it. It went against everything the cliche "guard your heart" Christianity would suggest. God was asking - commanding - that I take a risk. The biggest risk I have ever considered. The kind of risk that no one sees. The kind of risk that steers my whole future and how I perceive and interact with other people. It's the kind of risk that puts my whole belief in the goodness of God on the line.

Yes, after a week of existential crisis, I chose to obey. But that wasn't enough. God wanted more. He wanted me to throw my whole life into it, my whole heart, completely and entirely, holding nothing back. "I don't want you to just choose the promises," he said, "I want you to commit to them, forsaking all other possibilities. I want you to live you like you believe. I want you to risk all your dreams on this one promise."

I counted the cost. "If I perish, I perish," I said. I stood tall. I wrestled all hell and hades for what I believed. I trusted in the goodness of God. I fell into blackness and rose up in God's strength. I fought the good fight.

April 13 was the day. It was the day I began to wear the sign of the covenant. It was a witness between God and me of all that had been transacted between us. It was a sign of his promises and of what he had required of me. It was a testament to the world that I believed in the living word of God. It was a physical reminder that I was irrevocably bound to the covenant that God had established.

Yes, I fought the good fight. But a soldier can only fight for so long. The covenant remains, and I remain bound to it. The sign of the covenant still stands as a witness against me if I am ever unfaithful to my God. And it will surely witness the frailty of a weary heart.

The Christian life is one of great cost. It has cost me so much that the world will never see. There is never a moment when I don't feel the loss. In the midst of my Oxford bliss, joy, and unexplainable excitement, my heart is breaking. I've learned the importance of "emotional discipline" - the living of one's life in the midst of emotional struggle. I used to be a slave to my emotions in a way that was dreadfully unhealthy, but God in his grace delivered me of that lifelong bondage. I have learned the freedom of the cross, and of what it means to live as a daughter of the Most High.

But emotional discipline doesn't dismiss the struggles of the heart. The heart never sleeps. If the heart is breaking, you never cease to feel it. Life has never been more amazing and beautiful than it is right now. But in the Spirit of God, I have chosen to love, and with such a choice there is brokenness. When you make that choice without looking back, it costs you everything. I counted the cost, and in obedience to God, I chose it. And daily I feel the bitterness of that choice. But I have set my hand to the plough, and I cannot turn back. I have chosen that which is good, and I cannot release it. I have chosen to follow the Lord with all of my heart, for this is what he has required of me. Here I stand; I can do nothing else. Blessed be the Name of the LORD.

Faith and Commitment

"I began to dwell on the differences and difficulties . . . All that was the negative side. The positive side could be summed up in one brief sentence: God had spoken. Clearly, supernaturally, He had revealed his plan--first of all to me alone. Then, through a fellow Christian, he had confirmed it just as clearly, just as supernaturally. This had not come in response to my prayers, or even my desires. The whole revelation had its source solely in the sovereign will of God. If I were to reject God's will so clearly revealed, how could I expect His blessing on my future? . . . He was asking me to commit myself in faith to the plan He had revealed, and then to allow Him to work out for me the things I could not work out for myself. Finally I came to this point of commitment. So far as I understood God's plan for my life, I embraced it."

Derek Prince

All Manner of Things

After a week of gallivanting around Oxford, I am pretty tired. But I've had a few things on my mind. I've been thinking about Gideon and his 300 men, John the Baptist and the "eschatological bachelor party," and the adventures of my own life. I've been considering the great cost involved in following Jesus. It's the cost of perishing . . . of dying to ourselves, so that we might decrease and he might increase. The entire purpose of our lives revolves around obtaining the favor of the Lord. Everything we do, small or great, should be to gain the favor of God. But the favor of God is a high calling. It is a path that requires many deaths. "Take up your cross and follow me daily," Jesus said. Sometimes those deaths involve seeing your highest hopes come to naught.

Over 6 months ago, a lot of things changed. God established a covenant. He made me promises and laid down the requirements. At first, it was scary; it was a risk to believe God and to follow him into the shadows of uncertainty. But he was faithful. He confirmed his leading and asked me to believe. He asked me to walk daily in the promises and to seek unreservedly the favor of the Lord. So that's what I did. And even though it was hard, God was powerfully at work in ways that blew my mind. He daily evidenced my faith. He literally worked miracles that dropped my jaw. More than ever, I believed.

But things aren't always so peachy. Why is it that we doubt God's promises in the desert of uncertainty, when he's the one that gave us manna; he's the one that gave us water from the rock? It was his flaming cloud of protection that encamped around us day and night. If he proved himself faithful at the Red Sea, will he not prove himself faithful in the desert?

But we say, "Well, Lord, where's the manna now, huh? Where's the water?"

The funny thing is . . . when he doesn't give you manna, and he doesn't give you water, he gives your body the strength to go without it.

But, we say, "We're tired. It hurts. I feel the hunger pangs."

He answers... "Man does not live on bread alone, but on the Word of God."

"But the Word is long in coming," we say. "Your promises are starving themselves dry."

"The revelation awaits an appointed time," he answers. "Though it linger, wait for it. It will surely come and will not delay. But you, my righteous one, will live by faith. If you shrink back, I will not be pleased with you."

"But how much longer?" we say.

He answers, "Do you not remember the former things? My mouth announced them and I made them known; then suddenly I acted, and they came to pass. As I have done before, so will I do again."

And all we can do is sigh quietly, bow our heads, and concede, "Not my will, but thine be done."




And just when we think the conversation is over, we hear that still, small voice whisper gently...

All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well.

Divine appointments aren't always what you expect

'Twas a sore reminder of all I loved and lost. With a dreadful surprise, I realized that three years didn't change as much as I thought it did. I look back and see how much I've changed, how much my life has changed, how much the circumstances have (blatantly) changed, and yet, what matters most remains terribly the same. And I'm left pondering the sinking implications.

Even so, I know that God is good. Let God be true and every man a liar. He who promised is faithful. And even in the glaring face of grim reality, his goodness is unchanging.

* * *

In other news, I'm now in New Hampshire, Nate's wedding was wonderful, and I leave for England on Tuesday. Please continue to keep me in prayer these last 3 days as I seek the Lord about all he has required of me these last 6 months, and what more he requires here at the end of this chapter. Pray that I will stay the course, keep the faith, and have the courage to finish strong. It's not easy, this course he set me on. And in all honesty, it can only get harder. But ya know, it's worth it. The favor of the Lord is worth it.

Good night, good faith.