My Fascination with Fireworks

Why am I so fascinated with fireworks? Especially on a warm summer's eve with just the right amount of breeze blowing through my hair.

Maybe my reasons are the same as yours...

Fireworks evoke feelings. They are loud and sometimes scary. Your body shakes, your chest pounds, your eyes pop, your ears ring, your nose smells, and your heart remembers back to times before when you sat underneath a dark sky...with your parents, your friends, your first love. They make you wonder. They are mysterious, marvelous. They are special, they make you feel special, and smile...

They broaden your mind for a quarter of an hour, maybe more...to something bigger than yourself. Their loudness, their bigness makes you dream, wish, even dare to hope...and maybe you'll leave ready to do something you thought was impossible before. Because who would've thought something as brilliant as this could light up the sky?

"God can do anything, you know--far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams!" Eph. 3:20a

eating the mystery

About 15 years ago, my Aunt Ruby gave us a simple jar with little slips of paper which we were supposed to use to write down ways that God provided for us, big or small. The beauty of this would be that over time, we could pull these slips of paper out and remember, give thanks. It is called a manna jar.

I've always thought this jar was a wonderful idea, but until recently did not realize how crucial this concept of giving thanks actually is to the life of a believer. Why? Because remembering with thanks is what causes us to trust--to really believe. Brennan Manning says, "The foremost quality of a trusting disciple is gratefulness."

I'm currently reading Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts and being steadily convinced that gratitude breeds trust. That most of the lack of joy in my life is caused by my lack of trust in the goodness of God. But by counting the blessings in my life, I will discover Who can be counted on.

Even in the dark moments when remembering doesn't kindle a grateful heart, but rather a wounded heart. Even then. I have one memory that covers them all. Christ. "He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all--how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" (Romans 8:32) To use Ann Voskamp's words...If God didn't withhold from us His very own Son, will God withhold anything we need? How will He not also graciously give us all things He deems best and right? The counting of all blessings is ultimately summed up in One.

So, my manna jar gives me the perspective of years. I can remember and give thanks. And this feeds my trust. And likewise, my joy. And I eat the manna, that mysterious provision from God that gives me life.

"For really, as long as I live, travel, is there ever anything else to eat? I either take the 'what is it?' manna with thanks, eat the mystery of the moment with trust, and am nourished another day--or refuse it...and die. Jesus calls me to surrender and there's nothing like releasing fears and falling into peace. It terrifies, true. But it exhilarates. This, this is what I've always wanted and never knew: this utter trust, this enlivening fall of surrender into the safe hands. There is no joy without trust!" (Ann Voskamp)

Reflections on the Crazy Summer of 2010

Our time with all of the WHM missionaries in Greece was wonderful. All of my leadership responsibilities went well and there is a lot of excitement about things that God has been doing in and through WHM. But by far the best parts of the week were those times spent in prayer (2-3 hours a day!) hearing our missionaries hearts and getting to intercede for them. There is something about gathering around brothers and sisters, laying hands on them and then praying, crying, and pouring your heart out in prayer over them that is truly a taste of heaven and we slurped it up like kids eating ice cream for the first time.

We were able to reconnect with lots of old friends and meet some new ones too! In Denver I got a chance to catch up with former Naperville Presbyterian pastor and church planter, George Garrison. Nashville brought us together with Nate and Kara Conrad for a few days and several Chicago buddies spread around the country now. Jennifer was able to see at least some of you when she and Parker where unexpectedly back in Chicago for two weeks thanks to some frequent flyer miles (and the chaos that ensued over the tickets). And we were able to host Matt and Erin Young as well as Barry and Amy Schutter (our London-Southall church planting team leaders) here in Philly.

We enjoyed a much needed ministry break over vacation. Now that Parker is older we want to start exposing him to some of the cool things on the east coast. So in August we went to Washington D.C. for 3 days and visited the Smithsonian, saw some of the monuments, strolled by the White House and the Capitol, heard a concert by the Army Band (with live cannons for the 1812 Overture), ate at 5 Guys Burgers, visited Ford's Theater where Abraham Lincoln was assassinated, and saw Marine One fly over the mall and past the Washington Monument with President Obama aboard. After that we headed up to a quiet cabin near Lake George NY and enjoyed a week in the Adirondacks taking it easy (though we did visit Vermont, Lake Placid and tour the Ausable Chasm... which we highly (!) recommend).

I was able to see again just how much my heart needs the gospel because it resembles "Mars Hill" in Athens. When Paul was in Athens, he preached a sermon at Mars Hill (aka the Aeropagus) which is recorded in Acts 17. If you've had the chance to visit there, you'll know the hill is a rocky outcropping, that is hard and slippery, with no shade or plants and it is overlooked by the famous Acropolis. It was a stunning reminder to me of just how much my heart looks just like this-hard, slippery and inhospitable-without the gospel being brought to it and preached to it every day. And as if to prove the point, God generously allowed me see how my heart was worshiping at the altar of one of my "unknown gods." Instead of enjoying my time with Jennifer and Parker, I chose to worship my own expectations and plans and bicker about what we were going to do next and how long we should spend doing it, instead of just soaking up the atmosphere and the company of my family. When we harden our hearts by holding on to something too tightly, inevitably they turn stony like Mars Hill and grace runs off them without soaking in. I'm sure a lot of people have visited Mars Hill and read Paul's words to the Athenians. I visited Mars Hill and heard Paul's words speaking to me and my tendency to worship my own counterfeit gods.

And in some ways, that's just as good of a picture of the life of a missionary as any. Who better to go and bring a gospel of good news freedom to those with stony hearts who follow false gods, than one who himself is having his stony heart made new and who is learning to slowly release his grip from the false idols of self and security? Who needs the gospel more than one who has multiple "altars to unnamed God's" in his heart and who is learning that his True Dad is not far off and in his love and grace and beauty and mercy we live and have our being?

Fun Facts
This summer the Knaak's combined for a total of :

* 17,808 miles in the air on 11 different flights
* 53 nights with one or more of us away from home
* 18 new WHM missionaries were approved and/or went through our orientation process that I'm involved with
* 10 different cities visited
* 10 train rides to and from various airports, too many subway rides to count, and trip from Philly to D.C. on Amtrak!
* 10 states encountered
* 4 rental cars (who knew the Chrysler Town and Country mini-van was so nice?)
* 3 countries enjoyed
* 3 rounds of golf (2 with Parker and his first set of clubs)
* 3 times we had scheduling problems with flights
* 2 general assemblies attended
* 2 retreats to participate in
* 2 colds... which totally sucked
* 2 weeks of vacation
* 2 weeks in Chicago (for Jennifer and Parker)
* 2 Phillies games (including Parker's first big League Game)
* 1 ferry ride (a first for Paker!)
* 0 times that our luggage was lost-how miraculous is that?!

What a difference two years can make...

Two years ago, Patric and I were transitioning from our life in IL to our new life here in PA. We were grieving the loss of living daily life with many, many dear friends in IL...as well as saying our final good-bye here on earth to his mom who fought a long battle with cancer. And come the Spring of 2008, it was time to figure out how to make life work here.

So, one of the things I decided to do was to go the women's retreat at the church I thought we were going to end up attending. I didn't know anyone going on the retreat, and I was very fearful. I called up the woman in charge (now, a dear friend) and had her put me in a room with 3 other women that I didn't know. The weekend came and it was a blessing to me beyond words.

Two years later...the Spring of 2010. I was now the woman in charge of the retreat at our church. :) And now I know every woman who went on the retreat. I was able to assure fearful women who weren't sure they wanted to come because they didn't know anyone. The weekend came and it was a blessing to me beyond words.

It's hard to say which of these two retreats were more meaningful to me in the different phases of my life. But this I know, God meets me where I am. Provides for me what I need. Is gracious and kind. And what the pain of transition during these two years has shown me is that I can trust him. He is the one who is always with me.

"So, do not fear, for I am with you..." Isaiah 41:10a

Pray Without Ceasing... yeah, right

Recently, I’ve been leisurely reading Paul Miller’s A Praying Life (fabulous!! can’t recommend it highly enough) and as he was writing about “praying without ceasing” I was really brought up short. All of my 30+ years of walking with Jesus, I always assumed that the way to “pray without ceasing” was to be focused and determined; to just grit my teeth and say “I will do this, I will do this, I will do this….” That’s what maturity looks like right? You know what to do and then set your strengths on accomplishing it because the Bible says to do it.

But what caught me off guard was the fact that I’ve never (ever) been able to pray without ceasing by trying to do it this way. Heck, I’ve never even been able to pray for 15 minutes a day by doing it this way.

The “aha moment” was when I realized that my strength would never be able to make me into an “always in conversation with God” person, but my weakness would. When I see just how weak, needy and poor I am; when I know that my life doesn’t really work and I can’t make it work; when I am consistently conscious of my inability to love others or change deeply ingrained sin patterns then I become the type of person who is always talking to Dad.

When I am aware of my weakness and inability, then constant prayer is as natural as breathing. But when I’m busy trying to be my own savior (or looking to all of the other false sexy Jesus’ that this world conjures up), praying without ceasing is no more possible than sprouting wings and flying to Nova Scotia. Thirty years of walking with the Master, tens of thousands of dollars in theological education, years in ministry and I never realized what every toddler instinctively knows… when you can’t do it on your own, you’re naturally going to rely on Daddy.

(a little daunting to think that a lot of you who read this blog pay good money so that I can mentor pastors, missionaries and other christian leaders, isn't it!)