Gina Maria

¹⁶ When evening came, His disciples went down to the sea, ¹⁷ and they got into a boat and started to cross the sea to Capernaum. It was already dark, and Jesus had still not come [back] to them. ¹⁸ The sea was getting rough and rising high because a strong wind was blowing. ¹⁹ Then, when they had rowed ^[c]three or four miles [and were near the ^[d]center of the sea], they saw Jesus walking on the sea and approaching the boat; and they were [terribly] frightened. ²⁰ But Jesus said to them, “It is I (I Am); do not be afraid.” ²¹ Then they were willing to take Him on board the boat, and immediately the boat reached the [shore of the] land to which they were going.

— John 6:16-21 AMP

It is one thing to know in theory that Jesus is God, and another to believe it and apply it to one’s life. When the Holy Spirit gave me eyesight into this incredible truth, the gospels suddenly gleamed. What a gift! By studying the life of Jesus, we study God. We can be confident that the things Jesus did then, God does now – because Jesus only did what He saw the Father doing. And boy, how this passage speaks about the character of God.

In this passage, the Holy Spirit speaks through John of literal and metaphorical storms – physical, emotional, mental, spiritual. Essentially, humanity.

These storms we experience are not mutually exclusive. Our bodies are frail, our minds are loud, our emotions need reassurance, our spirits are rebellious. All at once.

In this case, the disciples most likely were each travailing through multiple varieties of storms, both individually and collectively. Many had abandoned all they knew to follow this mysterious man named Jesus. Undoubtably, they doubted their decision. And now, put in grave physical danger, they fearfully wondered – will they even see the days to live this new life?

Winds blew ’til they wound up in the eye of the storm. And, right on queue, Jesus appeared. They could see Him…but they were still afraid. Even while he was approaching them!

I love John’s sobering storytelling. It’s as if He’s saying: “Here’s how weak our faith was – we physically saw God, and we were still afraid!” It wasn’t until Jesus spoke were they then willing to take him into the boat, and immediately, they arrived at shore.

What’s important to note here is that after Jesus spoke, they were willing to take him into the boat. That doesn’t mean that the storm ended. It doesn’t mean they were no longer afraid. But it does mean that in that one moment, in the presence of God, faith triumphed fear just long enough for them to invite Him in. And immediately, Jesus delivered them.

Let this be our prayer – that as we hold on to the sides of the boat of this life, we wouldn’t hesitate to invite God in…immediately. May our ears be ever inclined to hear His voice. And may we trust in His word more than what we see.

Worship is not about how good your voice sounds.

It’s not.

Be faithful with stewarding your gift so that your voice can go where I take it.

Practice the songs until they’ve been grafted into your spirit.

And then,

Practice some more.

But don’t worry about how your voice sounds.

Because that’s not worship.

That’s worry.

knowing whether or not to stay in a particular social situation is the Holy Spirit’s specialty. sometimes, it’d be beneficial; sometimes it wouldn’t. either way, He’ll advocate.

but it’s up to me to obey.

also…

commanding my flesh to become subject to the Spirit doesn’t mean I can pick and choose which flavors of my flesh remain free. if lust goes…gluttony goes too.

and,

above all,

worship is never,

EVER,

a waste of time.

…and neither is calling your grandmothers.

Earlier this week, I traveled to a tiny little touristy mountain town called Helen, GA. It was a lovely day, in every way. The sunshine, the cool mountain air, the Oktoberfest-dressed waitress at the German restaurant where we chose to dine for my uncle’s birthday lunch. Just a fun day.

But one moment stood out. It occurred during the 75 minute drive up to the town, while sitting in the back third row of my uncle’s minivan aside my 7-year-old cousin Sophia. She looked at me and said, 

“Hey Gina?”

I leaned back, slightly nauseous, but slowly turned my head from looking out the window to looking towards her. “Yes, Sophia?” 

“Can you sing that song?”

“Which song, Sophia?”

“You know! That song…the song that says…’Be free to love, ’cause love brings freedom…'”

I gasped and sat upright, looking directly at her. Now, she had my attention.

“What!” I exclaimed. “How do you know that song…?” 

“I saw it on Thia Eleni’s phone!” she replied. “Can you sing it? Pleeeease?”

I stared at her. I wrote that song. I forgot about that song. But I recorded it on my mom’s phone months ago. Sophia must have watched the video when my mom had come to visit Georgia in June…over three months ago.

She probably watched it once or twice. Maybe she watched it several times. Either way, 

SHE REMEMBERED THE MELODY. SHE REMEMBERED THE WORDS.

And she’s seven.

I then received the word: this song needs to be heard. 

here are some lessons God taught me this week.

Lesson #1:

Remember that time when I gave BJ a vision of you and I dancing together? And I told him to say,”God wants you to start dancing for Him”? I remember. You obeyed. You’d sheepishly play worship music in your bedroom in Connecticut and just begin to move; asking yourself, “Am I even doing this right?”

You were. I saw you.

Then, remember, several weeks later, you attended the “We Want More” Women’s retreat. And on the second day, you sat on that big puffy white ball on the fluffy white carpet while all those women prayed for you, asking me to share My heart for you. Different women spoke many, many beautiful words. But only one word made you cry. It came from that woman Elizabeth, the one visiting from California.

Her act was simple. She placed her hand on your knee, and gently commanded,

“Don’t stop dancing for Him. He loves it.”

And you cried. Remember that?

Then, remember your 24th birthday, when you danced for me at Holy Smoke Outreach to Dara Maclean’s live version of Blameless/How He Loves? Do you remember that explosion of Freedom, both physically, mentally, and emotionally; not only for you, but for the entire room?

Well, I speak it again. Don’t stop dancing. It unlocks a passage enabling my Spirit to burst into rivers of living water; pouring out and over you to graciously embrace everyone around you. Remember: it is for freedom that I set you free. And not just your own freedom; but for

others’ freedom, too. 

walkin the line,
walkin the line
of learnin’ the lesson
while acknowledging the blessing…

cause you’re changing me rather quickly,
and its hard for me sometimes
to stay inside the lines
of your design
for me.

but even as I let you run this race through me
i still forget that your grace
is why I’m standing

i can’t take you for granted
i can’t take you for granted
You are sovereign,
You planned this.

so I give you
all the credit.

Forgive me,
Forgive me
for taking

You for granted.

Never before in my life have my senses so consistently and quickly  detected the peculiarly distasteful particles of my own self-righteousness. 

Translation – God is humbling me.

Hear my thoughts as the reapplied clumps of soggy dirt daily disappear  from my eyes, usually while worshiping.

“Wow. I am ____ (adjective, something undesirable and unfit for the path I’m on). How did I get that way?”

 —- Or —-

“I have a hard time  _____ (verb. usually, this is an importantly progressive action to the advancement of my wellbeing; and one which fear will convince me is unnecessary or impossible.) Why is that?”

But just as I’ve thought that thought, the answer comes. 

“I got this way because _______ (a clearly seen dissectional analysis of a singular or repeated experience, pulled from my own personal catalogue of this delirious mysterious dilemma we call “life.”)

The analysis will most assuredly conclude that it is because I, at one point, hurt someone, or at one point, someone hurt me. Or maybe, it’s just a lie I’ve always believed. 

Either way, it’s time to heal and move on. God will highlight things of importance. He brings a thing to attention because this particular wound that’s wound to a particular gift or fruit of the Spirit, is the one muscle that He wants to exercise through you…

very, very soon.  I…

I just wanna be ready.

hey!

listen…I’m aware of your intimate knowledge of all that I am. I know that You know what I’ll do before I do it. my question to you is this:

would you change my personality?

here’s what needs to change: I would love the willingness and finesse to digress from obsession with things and feelings and people. I know You know that if I like it, I can’t say no. and “it” will obsessively overtake my thoughts. so…can you make it easier for me to say no?

please?

…why not?

 

oh, yeah. I forgot about free will. and yeah, I remember how hard I fell,

for You.

but back then, You were new. my bright and shiny faith hastingly faced me down on the floor as You opened up the door to Freedom. your voice called me upward. and I rose to the challenge of loving you because you rose for me.

today, it’s not as easy. I ignore your holiness. I doubt your promises. the evidence of your handiwork destroyed by the hands of my own forgetfulness.

here’s my point: stillness is a struggle. passively, I drift toward other channels, willingly not wearing my armor. but if the knowledge of you speaks too quietly to quiet the rushing waters of my mind….

then maybe, just maybe…the knowledge of You,

isn’t enough.

 

………………..

 

sigh.

thank you.

 

 

All ways lead to the light, right?

Oh, how I would love to believe it. How enticing the prospect of never saying no. The road wide, without divide. Me and you. On the same side.

But…I can’t. I’ve been claimed by my Creator. My life is not my own. I know Truth.

And I know we’re not the same. You claim your power from within you. As you grow, you grow stronger; more confident in your own abilities. Manifesting your heart’s dreams as the world moves to the tune of your wants. And now, you want me.

But…I’ve run from the world that you run. I run towards Him, because running away from Him never works. Generations of faith-filled prayers grabbed me from life’s lottery. Set me on my path. I’m moving, but I’m stuck right here. He wants me. And I need Him.

As I grow stronger, I grow weaker. My prayers are simple now. Just, “Jesus.” Humility clears my eyes and I see just how wide the gap really is. I need Him.

I really, really need Him.

And life without Him is a lie. Maybe not right now, because the enemy will give you all you want in this thing we call “life”. This definitive dash between dates on our tombstones.

But I live in the light of eternity. After all…if my hope in Christ was only for this life,

I’m more to be pitied than anyone in this world.

 

 

The Church loves to talk about “the gifts”, particularly the flashy ones. But what about the others? Like, the gift of encouragement, for example? Have I ever considered what intentional encouragement might look like?

Well, it’s really the gift of exhortation. And the Greek word for this gift is Parakaleo, meaning “to beseech, call upon, to encourage and strengthen”.

Ultimately, encouragement is uncomfortable. It’s a bit more than merely complimenting that new girl Katie’s earrings. Does affirming Katie’s fashion sense really strengthen her? And am I sacrificing anything in doing so?

As a new white member of an intentionally transcultural church, I’ve recently wrestled with God in seeking His way to encourage my black brothers and sisters amidst highly charged times. My church deems ourselves “socially conscious”. What does that mean? My heart hurts when I watch the news. I regularly pray for the families who’ve lost loved ones, and racism makes me angry. But must I post about it on my social media pages?

I recently prayed and asked God to reveal to me the fruitfulness in posting #blacklivesmatter onto my Facebook page. Immediately after I prayed, I received a message on the worship team GroupMe chat from one of the white bassists on the team,

“Family, if you can, take a moment today to pray that God would intervene in the continual corruptness of our society today…my heart breaks for the family of Terence Crutcher, for our nation, and for our African American brothers and sisters, especially those in our congregation and worship team…I love you all and I’m grieving with you.”

At that, I suddenly saw that the silent white Christian causes just as much pain as the loud-mouthed bigot. I posted a Daily News article strewn with complimentary characteristics quoted by Crutcher’s family – a black man who simply once was alive, and is now no longer alive. I pleaded with God to teach me to mourn with those who mourn, to grant me the humility to hurt alongside them, and that He may clothe them in the incomprehensible peace that can only come from the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ.