| Of new blogging spaces for familiar faces |

I’m sure many of you have - from time to time - found yourselves using cliché catch phrases, words, and ideas. For a very long time, I was focused on the idea of silence, and how it was so important to redeem the still small silent moment, taking it back as a platform for God to speak.

Well, my dear wife Emily has been on a tear with the idea of ‘spaces’. She has been focused on creating spaces for people to express and to freely worship. And so, following in that line of thinking, I've created a fresh new space that I’ll be using to reflect on the wonder of God in this world.

roboticromancing.blogspot.com is essentially part one - sort of the Luke to my Acts - of my musings and reflections. From now on, check out http://stevecoupland.tumblr.com/

Cheers.

| Of the circle of life |

I can't help but think that Elton John is right; perhaps there is some big circle of life. But before anyone jumps on me with claims that I'm somehow advocating some blend of Eastern religious circularity of life (Buddhism, Hinduism, etc) and Christianity, I'm not. I'm merely pointing out that life tends to flow in patterns that make sense. Today, children are being born and people nearing the end of their life are dying. Death gives way to life, and life gives way to death.

Yet there is something so much more to this picture than a reflection on mortality. There is a redemptive story at work as well. Sin and destruction give way to grace and mercy. Even the stories of cataclysmic destruction (Japan and Haiti come to mind) offer hope. Something about destruction causes people to rise up and offer a helping hand; something about sin causes our God to step forward and offer the perfect solution.

Perhaps this is why I appear apathetic or disinterested in the face of destruction and death. But I don't think it's either of these emotions, for I truly have a sense of peace that everything is gonna be just fine. I'm content with some of the mysteries of God's plan that passes my understanding, for He offers me a peace that passes that same understanding.

This is not to say we should not plead with our God and urge Him to act. Japan and the Pacific need our prayers right now. We need to beg that God would be merciful and that restoration would follow soon after the ravaging that took place. And this is where a measure of creative tension can be ever so helpful. Pray that God would act all the while knowing He knows so much more and understands so much clearer than we could ever wonder or imagine. He truly is a big God with a big heart.

Cheers.

| Of tempests, tantrums, and being trapped in a teapot |

A while back I used the phrase "a tempest in a teapot" in regards to the devastating raw power of revenge if we let it fester inside of us. Well, now I shall turn to a new way of using that same phrase. I am a tempest in a teapot.

What I mean by this is twofold: first that I'm riled up and spun so tightly that I'm having trouble calming down, and second that there is seemingly nothing I can do about it as I'm stuck in this blasted teapot.

Allow me to explain further. I have this paper due twenty one minutes ago. That's right, it's late. While I don't like handing in papers late (1/3 of a letter grade per day is my penalty), I simply cannot focus enough to actually write a paper right now. It's like I've been spinning and spinning and spinning and now I'm being asked to balance an egg on a spoon and walk. I'm so riled up for God right now - I just want to be in ministry full-time so badly - that it is so hard to buckle down and write a paper I simply do not care about.

Perhaps I should.

But I don't.

You see it's a paper on the historical reliability of the New Testament. Sure, that's a great thing to know and to prove, but it just doesn't mean much when there are people who need the gospel, not some argument that its reliable!

Gah!

Back to trying to write this paper. I've gotta graduate before I can grasp at full-time ministry...Pray for me; I need it right now for focus.

Cheers.

| Of seasons and seeds |

Facebook is bustling with status' about spring, sunshine, and the demise of winter. Perhaps I'm unique, but I'm not ready for spring just yet. For me, the season of winter is full of the beauty of death. Morbidity aside, death is a much needed part of life. The very act of repentance - indeed the very symbolism of baptism - is death to some lifestyle and life to another.

Consider the imagery of pruning in the study of plants. Sometimes plants need to get rid of their dead weight in order to sustain the rest of their life. Emily and I recently bought a plant from Ikea. We live in a basement and it doesn't get much sunlight. So after a few weeks of some leaves turning brown and falling off, it is now healthy; it can sustain all the leaves it boasts on its branches.

All of this to say, I'm not convinced I'm ready for spring. I still have much to consider and much reflection to endure before I'm ready for the newness of life that spring brings. I find it odd that the Lenten season falls in the season of spring. It's easy to link resurrection and Easter to the season of spring. It's not so easy to link Jesus' journey to the cross - or His gruesome suffering and death - with spring. However, perhaps that is what the gospel of John would articulate, that there is celebration even in the death of Jesus. With this in mind, I'm pretty excited about preaching on March 20 in the sermon series about the passion week of Jesus in the gospel of John.

* * *

In other news, I received a word from God today. It was no audible word, but it was unquestionably from God. Today at Tyndale Tuesday chapel, the preacher was preaching on the widely known passage from Acts 1:8, about being witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth. He said this: the disciples were not from Jerusalem. They were men of Galilee; the angel even greets them that way in Acts 1:11.

To this he noted, our 'Jerusalem' is not our home. Instead, it's where we are right now. For me, my Jerusalem is Toronto. And he said that we should not be quick to run for our 'ends of the earth' immediately. We should work from our 'Jerusalem' outward. And so while I loved my experience in Czech, and I see a need, (and I'll likely go back next year), I need to tend to my 'Jerusalem' - Toronto.

And so I feel confident that God is planting seeds in my heart that will one day flourish into some sort of ministry abroad. But right now, the seeds that God planted in my heart for Toronto are flourishing and I need to grab hold of what God has given me.

I also want to make mention that I write about me. I don't want to speak on behalf of my darling wife Emily, but she is definitely in the picture. So much of God's will depends on where God is calling her - where God is calling both of us. I'm just simply using this blog as a means to communicate my own thoughts and reflections.

Cheers.

| Of the next steps |

Have you ever experienced a moment - or perhaps a series of moments - where you feel like your feet are dragging to do the thing you've always done? For me I remember jobs I've had where the next (and certainly better) job was already in sight; I remember struggling to drag myself to work, for I had already begun to remove myself mentally from the first in preparation for the second.

Well, this is how I feel right now. God has given me two glimmers of what's next. In the first, I saw a hurting and broken world in the Czech Republic. I saw people who simply know nothing of God. While in Canada people know enough to refute and refuse God; in Czech, people know so little it's alarming. I think I can already say at this point that God is calling me back there someday. Hopefully that someday is soon. Hopefully it is next year.

The second glimmer began today. While Emily awaits news on whether or not she'll be accepted to Tyndale's Bachelor of Education, we have agreed that we both sense God's leading to stay in Toronto. And since we have begun to realize that life will continue here in Toronto, I have begun to wonder what I'm to do in the coming year. And so today after a fun and challenging hockey game, Em and I went to a Tyndale Seminary info meeting. While it all seemed rather interesting but nothing really stood out to me, a single conversation after the meeting caused me to question what's next for me.

You see, I have a growing heartbeat for church planting. Not the kind of church planting that moves people from one "dying" church to a new "thriving" church. No, not that at all. But new inroads for the gospel, new people knowing God, and ministry in brand new ways. The same beautiful gospel message of salvation and grace to a different people and in different packaging.

So I asked about that. And the kind Tyndale chap directed me toward the 'In-Ministry' program. It's basically an MDiv program that is modular and modified into six week courses so that it can be done coincidentally with ministry. I think that was always the scare for me when thinking about a potential masters program, that I might have to sit through more years of school before God would actually use me. But with church planting on the horizon and Wellspring at my side, I'm excited to consider this program as a possibility for what's next.

This is precisely why these glimmers have me dragging my feet a bit. I have a paper looming and I really should be focusing my attention on it, but I cannot focus on the simple and the mundane. God has amazing plans for Em and I! Seven years I've committed to my undergrad (six on and one year off in the middle), and now I can finally see, and I can finally tangibly interact with what's ahead.

Here's the catch. I truly believe that part of God's call and confirmation on His people is left to His people. He may have called me into pastoral ministry, but it took others coming alongside of me and encouraging me and confirming me in order that I would truly know that was the path for me. Likewise, this MDiv program and the prospect of church planting, do you see God using me in this way? What do you - my family and my friends - see God doing with this head, this heart, and these hands and feet?

Cheers.

| Of the power of prayer |

I wonder, what causes us to pray? What are the driving forces that under gird our desire to see God work? I know for myself, I see a trend in my own life that causes me to stop and think. This trend is simple: when I'm engaged in ministry I tend to pray a lot more.

I liken this to working out or playing a sport. While some of us may be casual water drinkers (I know I am), we notice a need and a thirst for water when we're actively engaged in a sport or challenging activity. And why would it be any different spiritually?

If we are constantly being challenged in and through the act of ministering to people, we need more sustenance to keep us going. Spiritual sustenance that is. And prayer is exactly that. In prayer, we find strength to face the day.

But it's so much more than that, isn't it?

It's not simply about me and my filling so that I can face the day.

When faced with the challenge that ministry provides, I notice that I naturally linger toward the task of prayer. I pray for the people I'm talking to. I pray that God would use me. I pray that God would use my team. I pray that God would break down language barriers. I pray that God would soften hearts. I pray that God would nudge some to step forward in boldness and in faith.

Yet all of this disappears when I'm not in ministry. All of this ceases to be a priority when I'm comfortable. In my day to day school and work life, I don't have those same challenges and I therefore do not have the same tendencies to pray.

And since I can conclude that ministry is one such way to move beyond ourselves and into a place where we are praying for others and reaching out to others, I can conclude that ministry is also a good curative measure for many things. I look at something like depression and see how we tend to treat it with 'turtling'; we remove ourselves from any challenge, hide, and redirect all of our energy and strength inward. Yet it would seem that the best way to overcome depression would be to get out, to face the day, and to be in a state of prayer at all times.

You have to get on the eagle in order to fly on eagles wings.

Cheers.

| A redemptive song |

Prior to any insightful blogging, I need to give credit where it is due. A few weeks ago Lucas found an Icelandic artist named Ólafur Arnalds, and his music has changed my life. This has been especially true for my bus rides throughout the Czech countryside were made so much more meaningful with beautiful redemptive melodies flowing through the background of my thoughts and reflections.

Step One: Listen to this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6tvUPFsaj5s

Step Two: Read the rest of this blog.

Step Three (optional): Listen to it again while reading this blog. :)

Entering the Czech Republic was spiritually terrifying. It was a dark and gloomy place where religious and spiritual language are absent, where churches are few and far between, but where Satan is very much at work in the shadows and hiding places. The first repeated piano section speaks of this gloomy darkness.

Yet in the midst of this darkness, a redemptive melody begins. Enter God. Through long term and short term missionaries alike, God's redemptive song that He sings over us (Zephaniah 3:17) is beautiful and delicate; it dances and surges through our very beings.

The excitement begins to build; God is at work in the Czech Republic. A light is shining and the night is almost over. The dawn of a new day and a new beautiful story gives me hope. We are all moving to God's beat.

The melody changes. God has inspired His people to sing for joy and to pray. It seemed that at the outset of the trip we were a disconnected body of believers praying as many, but by the third day we were praying as one body; we were a single cohesive unit dancing and moving to God's harmony.

My heart broke for the fatherless at the orphanages. I long to be a dad, and I simply cannot fathom such a desertion. Such a scenario of abandonment stands in contrast to God's unfailing and unending love. It's a love that stretches beyond borders and barriers, to our very crumbled and ruined fragments that we call lives.

The week climaxes at the Sunday service and lunch that followed. Worship was beautiful. The Spirit was heavy in that place. Hearts were being formed and reformed. Tears and heavy hearts were in abundance. I know for myself I felt a deep hurt for this place, almost a pity. I'm not sure if God was laying this place on my heart to call me back to it one day, or if He was simply showing me that there are so many needs in this broken world He loves so much.

After the lunch, a string of goodbyes left us feeling incomplete, as though the journey was to be longer and we had so much left to do in Czech. We cried for the church in Czech. Our work will be laden with futility if the church will not follow up with the seeds that have been planted. The harvest is plenty but the workers are few in Czech. God is working in so many lives.

The melody fades and I'm left wondering if I had any impact at all. Were hearts really changed? Did God move in and through our lives?

The same piano that began the song ends it. Hopefully the apathetic and hopeless note that began the song will not be that which concludes it; it is with great hope in our hearts that we look back on such a beautiful and marvelous ten days. God is good. His redemption song is far beyond our understanding.

Thanks for reading.