A Month in Review (Josh Tikka)

The following are updates I have posted on the event pages over the past month that I wanted to highlight on this blog. these are both taken from our prayer request section.

Sept. 17th- There are quiet a few Godly, and highly spiritual members of our community who possess a certain quality. I can even fall into this category (probably more often than most, as I have been learning lately). The thing that I ask for prayer for is two fold, that we would still grow together in Christ, learning, and staying passionate. And that through and in that, we would be phenomenally (not using this word as "really" but as a phenomena) humbled. In our faith, we are often dogmatic, mean, and condemning. We struggle to show love and grace in our conversations, and I have seen these guys in the past few weeks scare people away, and turn people off of bible study's and christianity, because of their doctrinal legalism and arrogant superiority. I'm sorry if I've done this to you (implicitly or explicitly) I hope you can forgive me. And I haven't addressed these guys about it yet, but I need to, and I don't know how. All I know is they need love and grace, and so do I and so do you. God help us

Oct 15th- For guys not to think they need to impress us by how spiritual they are, Godly they are, I hate hearing people talk about how they chose that life to minister to guys on the street, and I hate hearing guys gossip about each other out of jealousy, and thinking we favor certain guys. I hope we can break down those divisions in their own culture and in our own and that we can have civil conversations that bring us closer together and to God. If people no longer feel the need to impress a certain idea of who they are or who they should be on us, than they can be themselves and know that we love and care about them for who they are, not for who we think that should be or what they should be doing...

 

To what end is this? (the Musings of a CB-er)

The clouds part, the sun shines bright, and it's rays envelope the last of the toes of the Savior, Jesus, as he rises into the sky. The men who surround the hill stare up into the clearing sky, eyes wide and mouths dropped in awe. And they stood there. And they stared.

What are we to do after the glorious rising of our King? The Resurrection of Jesus Christ is the foundation of our faith, the foundation of Christianity. This is not about good teachings, about good philosophy, not even about being a good person, a functional member of society... This is about the fact that if there is no truth to the Resurrection, then our entire faith, everything we are, is meaningless.

But I am not here to talk about the Resurrection. I am here to ask you one question: To what end is this? Jesus is gone. He is to return. What now? WHAT NOW?

The drool falling in the creases of the disciples gaping mouths hadnt even dried yet when the angels arrived at the scene. "Men of Galilee, why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven."

Its time to get to work, people! It's time to work! This the beginning of the great coming of the Kingdom, the one that He is preparing for us. Shall we be caught standing idly by, watching the clouds? Lord! May we be a family, a community, a people of action- furthering the kingdom.

Psalm 143- Lonliness (The Musings of a CB-er)

As I flipped open my Bible (well, actually I forgot my Bible, so I flipped open my browser and googled) and read Psalm 143, tears sprang to my eyes at the familiar words. I surprised myself with them, because everyone knows I hate crying, especially in front of the entire population occupying a wi-fi cafe...

Answer me quickly, LORD;
my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me
or I will be like those who go down to the pit.
⁸ Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I entrust my life.
⁹ Rescue me from my enemies, LORD,
for I hide myself in you.
¹⁰ Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God;
may your good Spirit
lead me on level ground.

As my best friend Small One can attest, the last time I read this I was kneeling bent over my Bible, weeping. With shaky hands and choked voice, I read these words out loud in the dorm lounge at 2 in the morning. Katie knelt behind me, tears in her own eyes, lost for words to comfort- there was almost no room for words.

I felt so alone, despite of her being right there beside me. It was a stressful weekend, with my women's choir performing in Handel's Messiah and my mom and sisters coming in to watch, on top of school and life and friends and CB, getting my room clean enough for my family to stay, getting everything all situated... and then stressing just because we college students do that sort of thing... I thought I had everything under control. I had everything planned out in my head. I had my tag-team of friends who were gonna help me get through the weekend, and a blanket of prayer miles thick. But nothing prepared me enough... nothing I could have done could ever prepare me enough for what was going to happen.

I'm just going to be honest with you and tell you guys the truth. My relationship with my biological family hasn't been the best in the world. They might say something different, but the truth is there is a lot of hurt, alot of pain, and alot of wounding eachother throughout the years. I've done my share of hurting them, especially my younger sister, who was coming with my mom that weekend. And while I was stressing about my mom's reaction to my friends and CB and school and my life, the real conversation I should have been stressing about is the one with my sister.

The opinions of our family hits us more than we want to admit. And with a sister- that one little girl who's supposed to look up to you, and want to follow in your footsteps- her opinion is even more important. So when she looked me in the eyes and told me that I, her big sister, the one who was supposed to protect her and show her the ropes to this big bad world, ruined her life... the pain that I inflicted upon her through the years brought her to depression and suicidal thoughts, and although she has been working through her pain, that she would never see me as her big sister... that broke me. Broke my already ever-shaky foundation and brought me to my knees, weeping, reading- pleading- Psalm 143.

Sitting there, terrified of the world, knowing deep down that my sin had caused so much brokenness in someone else, a someone else I was supposed to love- no, not only love, but PROTECT... I was the one that she needed protecting from. How do you respond to that? What words do you say? I had none of my own-

¹ LORD, hear my prayer,
listen to my cry for mercy;
in your faithfulness and righteousness
come to my relief.
² Do not bring your servant into judgment,
for no one living is righteous before you.
³ The enemy pursues me,
he crushes me to the ground;
he makes me dwell in the darkness
like those long dead.
⁴ So my spirit grows faint within me;
my heart within me is dismayed.
⁵ I remember the days of long ago;
I meditate on all your works
and consider what your hands have done.
⁶ I spread out my hands to you;
I thirst for you like a parched land

I tell you the truth, these words brought me more comfort than I could ever gain from the other means I was using to try and make myself better. I've tried it all- sex, cutting, eating disorders, revenge, trying to please everybody... but the warmth and comfort I had wash over me at that moment reading those words I would never trade for anything in the world. And as I look back over them, I realized the weirdness of this psalm- there aren't any words of "It'll all be okay" or "God's got your back"... its all just pain. It's a cry out to The All-Knowing to remember... to The All-Hearing to hear. And I was heard.

Have you ever known how it feels to be heard? Nothing is fixed, nothing has changed... you've just been HEARD. Somehow that's what it takes for us to lose the seemingly unshakeable lonliness we walk around with and is the proof we're searching for in God.

I'm not really sure if any of the things I ever write make any much sense... but it's nice to be heard sometimes. Even if you don't understand.

In CB, I feel like we need alittle bit of a reminder to HEAR. When we walk down to Lower Wacker or upstairs on the other routes- Madison, State, Washington, Michigan... or to eachother, or to anyone, we need to remember that we're there to HEAR. It's easy to get caught up in what WE have to say... what THEY need to hear. It's harder to shut our mouths and listen and actually HEAR what they have to say, whoever they are.

I know I've said this so many times before- but I didn't start doing CB because of the homeless people. I didn't stay because of the biblestudy. Don't get me wrong, all of those things are amazing, and I praise the LORD for how much growth and miracles he's been showing this group... but honestly- I'm here, and I stayed, because ya'll are different than ANY OTHER group of people I've ever been apart of. We're a motley, mis-matched, crazy, weird, abnormal, dysfunctional family, but there's more. In the case of Alisha Gneco, you guys HEAR.

I remember the first day I went to CB, on the train, Andrew and Tikka and AngelDude and all the rest, standing around me- "Tell us your story in five minutes". No one had ever asked me that before. Seriously. In a world where the only places people actually want to hear what someone else is thinking or doing or coming from is the doctors office or a dating website (and that's pushing it), you guys asked and then were quiet and LISTENED.

So wrapping up my little rant, and bringing it back to the basics- While we, as Christians, as CB, are being called to be like Christ, in the things we do, and say, and think- let us also remember Psalm 143, the brokenness and the pain of those around us and inside of us and stop and hear what we're actually saying. Hearing my sister takes my attention off of nursing my selfish hurt and onto her broken heart. Hearing her brings the reality of her pain to my eyes, not in self-pity, but in conviction of the consequences sin actually has on people. Hearing you guys tells me who's struggling and who's in need of some prayer. Hearing will bring us together so that we go out as a family, not just a motley crew of college kids. Hearing will bring us to the place where we can plead with the Lord for the souls of our friends.

Again, I'm not sure if I make much sense, but hopefully somewhere I've come to some sort of conclusion, so I can stop typing and feel like this blog post has adequately ended. :) And with that, I love you and praying for you- whoever you may be. :) Always ready to hear.

¹¹ For your name’s sake, LORD, preserve my life;
in your righteousness, bring me out of trouble.
¹² In your unfailing love, silence my enemies;
destroy all my foes,
for I am your servant.

Urgent Prayer Request! The Blizzard.

Hey, everyone. I just want to remind all of you to keep our friends on the streets in prayer over this trying time with weather complications and the whole Blizzard issue here in Chicago. As we have all seen broadcasted on the t.v. and radio, the entire city of Chicago has been blanketed by nearly two feet of snow in places. The safety and welfare of our friends out on the street is in jeopardy as the nights get five to fifteen degrees below zero and the days are still piled with snow.
God bless you all, and keep us in prayer!

Genesis 1 (The Musings of a CB-er)

The dawn breaks... for the first time. It's the sixth day on This New World, an earth ignorant and innocent to much else but new life, and He was doing something different.

As He passed them, they looked up from their simple grazing and gazed at Him, their unintelligible thoughts praising Him over and over again. The small feathered ones burst forth in song from the crest of the trees, crowning the beauty with music made only by and for His ears. The colors were bright and dark and deep and smooth- too many to name or even to see. The Beauty was a greater sound than anyone could hear, but Him. The melody of His Creation sprang together and collided in unison, harmonious. And He was pleased.

His footsteps crushed no grass, His cloak caught no branch and broke no twig. Everything was perfect... made especially for This Day. This Day was the day He would create him. All of the days before This Day lead up to today. Every water molecule, every hair on the bodies of the mammals, every feather in the wings of the birds, every ray of sunshine and every wave of the wind through the fruited trees- they were in wait for this moment.

Lovingly, gently, excited, He reached out and knelt down in the center of the garden. Scooping down, he pulled from the ground a handful of Earth and held her in his palm. Out of his Creation he would create a Man, dependent yet dominant in this culture of Life. He formed the fingertips, using His own fingertips to engrave the gentle lines for Man's own print. He strung strands of golden-sheathed hair and placed them on his head; He made strong shoulders and gentle palms, softened earlobes and tough soles, Light in his eyes and Song in his voice. And then, when Man's form was finished, the Designer stooped down and parted with His own Breath, filling his lungs with living air. And Man was Alive.

Majesty (the Musings of a CB-er)

She kneels before the towering pile of branches, needles, and glistening apparel that screamed “Beautiful!” at the top of it's lungs. The room echoed it's silent heaves, laden with as much mirth and glee to rise a city from its knees. But to it, she does not turn an ear.

Ornaments dripping off of plastic pine with golden cord, crystalline lights shimmering eerily above the circlet of holly and red ribbon cascading at every corner. The shine of every cherub's eye and the point of every silver-studded star pierces the air, and everything is perfect.

Outside, oblivious to the green and gold and silver and stone, the salting 0f snow about the road- not too much to cause discomfort, but just enough to dust the world. Carolers toting semi-sweet notes, of good tidings and joy and mistletoe, their clasped gloved hands bright colored against the white backdrop of sow. Their rosy cheeks and perfect rows of teeth gaping wide to form the words only the pristine windows and snow-laden homefront are attentive enough to hear. But still she does not cast a single thought to the sight. The perfection of the scene, cast by dim lighted candles and the firelight's glow, was not by what her tears poured.

Her hands and knees ached, bend down beneath the curtain of evergreen, hands held out among the sharply wrapped presents of glorious color. Between her cupped palms stood tiny old trinkets; an old crowned man robed in gold, beside two kneeling in purple, extended hands bearing richly wrapped gifts. Three shepherds huddle opposite, upturned bearded chins holding awe and joy for the lifted angel hanging over the scene. It's wings shimmer under the worn old luster of gold paint, and his face was cracked from the many ill-kept tumbles from the tree.

A blue-wrapped maiden kneeling, eyes smiling with the little pink-painted line of mouth. Her husband's hand was laid lightly on her shoulder, their faces all turned towards the babe.

The small wood carved manger- painted straw sticking out from beneath a sleeping child, who's serene face beholds no thought to the wonderland he sits among. The towering tree, crackling fireplace, holly and the snow continue without notice to this tiny silent scene beneath it's boughs.

But she notices. Tears stream down her cheeks as her fingers tenderly touch the seemingly soft wooden cheeks of the tiny child. It was small, old, silent... broken. But it's depth of meaning weighed her heart heavier than all the majesty of her surroundings- in fact, this, instead, was her majesty. The Majesty.

The child. The shepherds. The mother. The angel.

The kings- who traveled miles and deserts following the dim point of light in the sky, certain for the Son of God at the end of their journey.

The father- who by an angel, was told to leave his country, his home, and move to Egypt, and by his faith, obeyed.

The stable- rugged, wretched, rancid... but into it's arms did the babe enter the world.

The city- by its night lights the family was turned aside, though she was griping in pain from labor... full to the brim with people who were called to their hometown to be counted by the Emperor.

The soldiers- who were ordered to witness the slaughter of hundreds of newborn children by their own hand, seeking out the single child who was named the King of the Jews.

The night- silent though it began, brought about the outpouring of such glorious chorus from the heavens that those who could hear ran in fear.

This was the majesty. This was the story. But little it stood beside the presents, wreaths, carolers and the mistletoe. But still she knelt, eyes glistening, for she knew. She knew the story. She knew the majesty. And the expressionless, voiceless trinkets held lovingly between her fingers sang a song louder than anything else in the room. For they were the Majesty of the season.

Pride, Part 1 (The Musings of a CB-er)

Pride, Part 1 (The Musings of a CB-er)

First of all, I want to apologize for not keeping this up-to-date lately, it's been a rough couple of weeks, and I've just not been on track. Second of all, Im BACK and in full swing. Although I missed last night's CB Biblestudy (well, CB entirely) because of a performance for the choir I am in, I will track someone down who DID attend and find out what happened from them. :) Coming soon!

As for Daniel 4 and 5, it was interesting to notice that they were essentially about the same thing; PRIDE.

Have you ever heard the saying about pride being the foundation of all sin? When we sin, we are taking control of our own life, basically saying to God "I know better than you about what I need to do in my life, I know myself better than you do, and I know what's best for me. I am King, god of my own world." Wow.

I grew up using sin as a coping method. I think, in some way or another, we have all justified our wrong actions and thoughts in order to attempt to make them alright or better than they seem. Some of us might have been lying to ourselves about "white lies" and "small sins" that are "no big deal". Realizing that sin IS a big deal, more important that I am treating it to be, and more serious to God than I am perceiving it, convicts me where it hurts. When I sin, I am telling God that I am stronger than he is, smarter than he is... Pride.

In chapter four of the book of Daniel, Pride overtakes the King Nebuchadnezzar. The Lord warns him through Daniel about the consequences that will incur if King Nebuchadnezzar does not acknowledge God as Lord. "You will be driven away from people and will live with the wild animals; you will eat grass like cattle and be drenched with the dew of heaven. Seven times will pass by for you until you acknowledge that the Most High as sovereign... The command to leave the stump of the tree with its roots means that your kingdom will be restored to you when you acknowledge that Heaven rules." (Daniel 4:27, NIV) But King Nebuchadnezzar forgets this warning, because just twelve months later, he stands on the rooftop of his palace, saying "Is not this the great Babylon I have built as the royal residence, by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?" Such pride!

I know I forget the truth of the words "Be still, and know that I am God." God is God, not I. This has really rung true to me in the last couple of weeks- when Im struggling with pain and perseverance, relying on God's strength seems so much more out of reach. But doing this on my own strength is telling God I am stronger than he is. Lord! Im so sorry!