Big God…big heart.

Shelley Hundley from IHOP just came out with her book A Cry For Justice about Jesus as our advocate against injustice. I read the sample on my Kindle (best gift ever from my amazing sister) and really, really wanted to buy the book. The thing is, I will be officially unemployed in about two weeks and am trying not to spend money on any extras. So no book.

But the sample gripped me and I knew I had to read the whole thing – so I went to the Kindle store just to see how much it was.

Kindle Price: $0.00 includes free wireless delivery via
Amazon Whispernet

That’s right – $0.00 – FREE! Woohoo! Quick, go get a copy before Amazon changes its mind.


This upcoming journey will be all about trusting God’s provision for what I need instead of striving for what I want. This won’t be easy. The truth is, I feel like I have to scramble to provide certain things for myself because I’m afraid God might think they’re too frivolous or indulgent. I mean look around – these are sober times and God has more important things to do than think about what I’d like to read.

When I was little, I used to recite a German bedtime prayer that went like this: “Come Lord Jesus, come to me, make a good child out of me. My heart is small and no one can come in but You, my little Jesus.” In German it sounded cuter because it rhymed. Maybe that’s why it never dawned on me until recently how weird it was. Who teaches children to pray for a small heart and a little Jesus?

I know in my head that God is big. Huge. Enormous. And omnipresent. But sometimes it’s like my heart got stuck in that prayer about the little Jesus.

It may sound kind of silly, but this whole thing with the book is big shift for me. It’s not that I’ve never experienced God’s love or provision, but this was really specific and completely unexpected. So God, I pray You would create in me a big heart that can know Your immense goodness…and make it known.



President Obama read Psalm 46 at the 9-11 Memorial in New York this morning.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Therefore, we will not fear, even though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.

Though its waters roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with its swelling, there’s a river whose streams shall make glad the City of God, the holy place of the Tabernacle of the Most High.

God is in the midst of her.  She shall not be moved.  God shall help her just at the break of dawn.

The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved.  He uttered his voice.  The earth melted.  The Lord of Hosts is with us.  The God of Jacob is our refuge.

Come behold the works of the Lord who has made desolations in the Earth.  He makes wars cease to the ends of the Earth.  He breaks the bough and cuts the spear in two.  He burns the chariot in fire.

Be still and know that I am God.  I will be exalted among the nations.  I will be exalted in the Earth.

The Lord of Hosts is with us.  The God of Jacob is our refuge.

Harvest field.

20130315-000628.jpgI am working on a project involving a prohibition on issuing patents on human organisms. The idea that one human being could possibly lay a claim to the unique invention of another human being is absurd. It doesn’t pass even the most basic level of legal scrutiny, otherwise known as the “ha ha test”. But because we will vigorously defend our right to embrace absurdity if it is profitable enough, we have to enact a law telling people not to do something they actually cannot do in the first place.

As it is, researchers may “create” human beings and are free to exploit them with impunity. And they do. For the sake of the greater good, human organisms are infused with diseases, disassembled for research and even bred with animals. Once they have served their utilitarian function, they are summarily discarded as human waste. Researchers may not be able to secure a patent on their tiny “inventions”, but for all intents and purposes they own their human subjects and treat them accordingly.

Of course this all takes place in sterile facilities under the supervision of people in white coats with lots of letters after their names so it must be okay, right?

What goes through scientists’ minds when they watch human life appear before their eyes? Does it ever become mundane? Do they feel any sadness when they toss the remains of their tiny creations in the biomedical trash heap?

Do they ever think, even if just for a second, that they might meet their experiments in heaven one day?