“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.†Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
2 Corinthians 12:9-10
I have so much to say but no energy left to say it with.
Physically, I’m not doing well. I have somehow injured my liver of all things. [When I fell the first time on the Berlin Wall, if you must know.] Really painful. I won’t be doing PT for a few days. I’ll go back to the doctor on Thursday to get more blood work done. And if it gets much worse I’ll go to Urgent Care. That’s tempting right now in fact. Don’t worry though. I’ll be fine. I’m praising God for it.
Spiritually, I’m doing much better. I haven’t even had the time to share with you what was on my heart, or what I’ve been praying so desperately for… and like I said, I’m too tired to tell you now. But know this: God is good. Incredibly good.
Goodnight. Pray for me. Sheesh, I don’t feel well at all.
Listen to 
In Christ Alone by Brian Littrell on Rhapsody.
[Sorry, it won't work for my international readers.... maybe you can hear it here.]
So… I’ve posted a lot lately… but I haven’t written much.
I’m sorry about that. I’m not sure what has caused my blogger’s block. Perhaps I’m tired. Well, definitely I’m tired. I’m also busy.
The other thing is… the things I’m thinking about, working on, wrestling with… they’re complicated and they leave me with more questions than answers.
Normally, I don’t mind writing to you about the questions without pretending to have answers. But for some reason, I feel I shouldn’t immediately admit every weakness while I’m here. I don’t know why. Perhaps because my classmates are reading and I don’t want them to worry, or wonder about my sanity. Though I’m sure it’s already too late for that. 
Here’s a little unrelated rambling to make up for it:
Being with people from different denominational backgrounds causes me to look more closely at my own beliefs. What are some of the distinctive doctrines that my denomination holds dear? Why do I believe them? How important are they to me?
In Springfield, being labeled a Pentecostal doesn’t seem out of the ordinary. Here… well you sometimes get this questioning look… that “Oooh do you play with snakes and swing from chandeliers?” look.
We’re not the only ones that deal with labels. I hear classmates saying, “I’m not that kind of Lutheran.” “I’m not that kind of Episcopalian.” “I”m not that kind of Baptist…” and no, “I’m not that kind of Pentecostal.”
Labels. They’re handy but often inaccurate.
—
Anyway, while inspecting these labels, including my own, I’ve started to think more carefully about what makes Pentecostals … well Pentecostal. I suppose that’s the whole Baptism in the Holy Spirit thing… the whole private prayer language, speaking in tounges deal. Of course there’s more to it. But that’s what’s on the front of the label.
I wonder if I’ve ever written about this before… Nope, in all of my 1,455 posts I have not written about the “initial evidence of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.” There was a passing reference last week, but it hardly counts.
[No wonder I've never made the PneumaBlogs list.]
I wonder why that is? That’s something for me to think about. But not now, now I have to go to sleep. We leave for PT at 0500.
My good friend Dave Godzwa recently wrote an encouraging post titled, “Oh the Humanity.”
He writes,
“The power is not in our perfection, nor in the facade that we might choose to display. It is in the intersection of our imperfection, our weak human condition, our story, and God’s amazing grace that power is displayed to those around us. Like Paul says in 2 Cor. 4:7: we have this “treasure in jars of clay.†We show the reality of God’s power through his redemption of our brokenness, and, as we continue to allow him to work in our lives, he takes our brokenness and makes into something beautiful.”
That’s good stuff!
Fourteen years ago, on a Wednesday night after youth group, Joel Maxwell asked me out. He was wearing a brand new Evangel College sweatshirt. I’m wearing that same sweatshirt right now.
I love you Joel. I miss you. I know you’re in the field and can’t read this. But maybe you will in a few days.
