Steps




















































Can I be honest for a moment?

I want to hide. I literally want to hide and not write this. Selfish, I know.
It is so hard for me to articulate and make sense of the swirling thoughts, worries, emotions that get so tangled up in myself. It is hard for me to be honest about all my doubts about what God has for my life when it seems like everyone else has such a clear path and mission.  Yet I think God has taught me that regardless of how much I hate the effort of journaling, it helps me untangle and see things anew. So, I will try to sift through all of this to form something even semi-coherent. Thanks for bearing with me. 

My plan is to, in the near future, borrow some friend’s cabin and just disappear. To be silent. To sit still. To drop off the face of this earth as we know it. To listen. To talk. To play the background and live in silence for a few seconds at least. If you have a cabin and you live in Michigan, please let me know. I’d love to spend 30 days there in February before jumping right back into “life.”

Anyways.

Some dude that I follow on Instagram recently posted a corny photo of himself with the caption, “Contentment isn’t a feeling, it’s a decision.” I choked on my loaf of banana bread and laughed as I spit out, “What an idiot!  Hahaha. Like c'mon bro. Maybe step back into the reality of our everyday lives for a second?"  If I could “choose” contentment, then… yeah. You’re stupid bro. I hate that sentence. I hate it so much. I hate how simple it makes things. In my life, I place myself at the whim of my circumstances more than I would like. 

I think maybe I am the least content person in the earth’s history. I’m not dissatisfied with my current life or any less in love with these kids — in fact, I am more in love with them than ever. I’m scary in love with them. But as a general rule, I am a second guesser. I am a doubter. I am a person who won’t ask a girl out because he doesn’t have absolute certainty that she will say yes. I’m trying to be less like… that? But it seems ingrained in nearly everything about me and I hate it. 
It hinders me from fully committing, living to the fullest, or enjoying any sort of little moments  — as I edit and re-edit myself and everything I say, do, or feel. Maybe it’s a form of perfectionism, but I think it’s more so just insecurity that latched onto my foot from my teens or something. Whooooooooooooo. 

Confession: from almost the first day I moved here, back in January of 2016, I was already thinking about the next steps for my life. What I would do AFTER the Nest. Honestly so stupid and something I am ashamed of. But I was and have been grappling with that idea for my entire time here. I think it’s something Western Culture sort of impresses upon us — the idea that we need to have a detailed roadmap with each stop carefully marked and planned so that we can build this ornate future somewhere down the next fifty or sixty years. In fact, if you don’t have that roadmap, usually that means that you are kinda shooting yourself in the foot or that you aren’t going to be “successful.” I know I blame a lot of things on Western Culture but. I don’t think it’s completely unfounded to believe this. 

At this point in my life, I am wrestling with letting go, wrestling with trusting God and wrestling with His will for my future vs. my will for my future. I have many passions, many different directions I want to go in, and many uncertainties. You probably already know that, but this is me reiterating it again. I think I’m also BIG TIME wrestling with attempting to live day-to-day, only really knowing just one step ahead and He sorta leads me by the hand like a blind dude. Instead of trying to follow some self-made, 42 step roadmap, trying to follow Him only knowing the next step. Not the next 300. Not even the next steps in the next four months. Just one (sometimes hesitant/stumbling/falling) step.


I went to Michigan in November because I think I was sick. Every day I think I woke up and felt guilt because I actually didn’t want to wake up that much. (woah, that sounded dark) I felt guilt because it took all my effort to go outside and smile and play soccer and wrestle little Pops and hug tiny Kim. I think maybe I was very empty. Maybe I was very dried up. Maybe I was very spent. The simplest of things were immovable and so taxing. And the things and people I loved were duties and obligations. I dunno how I got there. Maybe I wasn’t reading the Bible or maybe I wasn’t praying or maybe I was walking around with my eyes closed. I think I was sick. In retrospect, I think it was me trying to peer too far into the future. Trying to determine my steps. Trying to plot my roadmap for the next few years. I think that was killing me and my joy on the daily.


So I went home in hopes that maybe I just needed to be “filled up” again because that’s what Christians sometimes say. “Filled up.” I stayed in Michigan a little while longer, kinda hoping that it would “cure” me. Maybe just like, going to church, being around buds, family, and chipotle would cure me of feeling empty and spent. I mean, it kinda did. 

I had fun and did feel blessed at home. I mean, I saw The 1975 and LANY both live in one month, so pretty chill. I went to a Spartans game. I ate Chick-Fil-A. I went to IHOP and bookstores and all the things that normally give me a bit of peace and comfort. I even talked to girls. I went to quite a few churches. I saw snow (only a little but). I got to be at Thanksgiving with family. I got to feel like I was a part of my families’ life for a little while. It was good. 

But the week I was set to leave and go back to the Nest, I was NOT ready. I think I texted or called everyone I knew in the entire world and basically asked them to tell me what to do — go back, or stay home for good. I wanted someone, honestly anyone, to tell me what to do. Because God wasn’t, and I was so weary of waiting on Him and His vague answers. I had been obedient this whole time, I had done my part — sought wise counsel, prayed, listened, gone to church, come home to rest, and still, even the day before I was supposed to board a plane for Montego Bay, I had zero peace and zero answers. At this point, my faith in God was severely lacking. Where even was He? I’d asked, and begged, and pleaded for an answer of where I was supposed to go, and He had remained steadfast and silent the entire time. I came home to clear my mind and hear from Him again and my entire month at home, I got nothing from Him. 

Maybe I plugged my ears.

The night before my flight, I realized I had to make a decision and no one else could make it for me. So I started packing my bags because I didn’t really know what else to do. I was not ready to go back to the Nest, but I felt like it was impossible to step away from these boys who didn’t have someone in their corner. I got on the plane more out of obligation than of excitement. I have been plagued with questions like, how long am I supposed to stay? Who is going to stay if I don’t? Who is going to take care of these boys? Who will be there for them? I can’t walk away. I can’t walk away. I can’t walk away. 


Now I’m back. The morning I got back I walked into the room and was swarmed by 37-to-a-million kids just yelling, “Jake! Jake! Jake! Jakie!” and they all hopped up and down trying to swat at my face and get my attention. It was so overwhelming and moving and humbling and I don’t know. Realizing I matter that much to anybody, that I mean that much to anybody, is something I’ll never forget — even with Alzheimer’s probably. 

Side note: I think I have always hated the name Jakie, but for some reason, the kids here can say it and it crushes me. 

I got on a plane emptily mouthing the words, “Yeah, in January or February I’ll get a ticket and move back to Michigan,” but even as I said them, I knew that there was absolutely no way I could leave the Nest and the boys in February. I didn’t even know if I would ever leave. Honest.

And now we’re going to get to the part that is going to make the least sense. 

In just the first day of being back, God gave me peace.

He opened my eyes to what one of the new co-directors, Kevin, is doing for the boys and how he is the next part of God’s plan for these boys that I love. Seeing Kevin interact with them, teach them, pour into them, and seeing his heart for them throughout. For awhile, I was worried about Kevin coming to the Nest because of what it would mean and the things he might try to change. But now I see that he cares about pushing them towards Christ, and more than any one thing here, that matters the absolute most to me. 

In just that first day back, I had such a peace that I cannot explain. You know how they say, “Peace that passes all understanding”? That is what I felt. That is what I kinda have now. I could try to explain it to you, but it passes my limited understanding. It is simply there, surrounding me for now. It’s the strangest thing because I have not felt peace like that since… the womb maybe? My entire life and future has been question after question and all the while I have never felt or understood that “peace that passes all understanding.” I’ve never been comfortable resting in just one step ahead or God’s timing — as you all well know. (If not, just read every previous blog post).

But now I do - at least for a second.

I have such a strange peace about how God is going to use him and how He has provided Kevin for the boys at the perfect time as I try to imagine stepping away in just 20-something days. He’s the guy I’ve been praying for for the boys and he is the reason why I can step away in February knowing and holding to the peace of God’s provision and timing. God has brought Kevin to care and grow these boys into better men than I actually could. 

Not that I see myself being here this past year as wasted or I wasn’t the guy for the job because I WAS. God brought me here to fill that gap. And now He’s brought Kevin and finally given me peace about it.  A liiiiiiittle peace about moving back to the States, which I’ve never had before.
It’s not even a peace I want. It’s a peace I wish I didn’t have right now. It’s crazy because I have asked Christ for peace for months, and now when He gives it to me, I don’t exactly want His answer because it is telling me to leave the kids. I will cry and hate the day I leave, but God has graciously provided and in His perfect timing too. Now it is time to follow. 

I have long prayed for God to bring godly men into these boy’s lives. I still pray for God to bring strong, godly, and especially Jamaican men to the Nest to show these boys what a man of God looks like. I pray for better men than me. The reason why I decided God wanted me at the Nest was because of the critical need for a man to be around these boys. Not just to “be around” them for 30 minutes a day or in between jobs, but to be there specifically for them and no one else. You and I both know I’m not that shining model of a man of Christ, I’m not even the shining model of a man (aka small muscles), yet there was and has been no one else and so, that is why God has me at the Nest. Jesus brought me to the Nest to be there for those boys. Now He has brought Kevin. I won't lie, it's been a humbling process as I reluctantly and sometimes begrudgingly hand over my part in these boy's lives to the next guy(s). It's as if I don't fully trust anyone else or something stupid like that. I'm working on it.

How God has been orchestrating things all this time! Even while I was at home agonizing over the Nest and myself. How breathtaking it is to see how God weaves the stories of these kid’s lives — bringing people in His perfect timing and providing exactly who they need as they need them. Whether it is me, or Daniel, or Sam, or Dani, or Kevin, or all countless others, Jesus provides and blesses. 

For now, I get to enjoy the littlest moments. I get to wake up and be a part of the tiniest little things that I love. Without the weight of trying to discern the next 4,000 steps of my life, I can rest in the here and now (or at least try to)— drinking in each smile or tear or scrape or laugh. 

Like the other day, when I was sitting down at the workbench building something and suddenly I look up and see little Pops sitting so quietly, his face mashed up into the screen mesh of the upper balcony, pressed up so close that I think his little eyes were almost popping through the mesh, just staring down so, so intently on what I was building. He had been sitting there for nearly twenty minutes, just watching me. Once he realized I had seen him he started yelling my name, which is I think one of the 14 words he knows, and he did not stop yelling it until I left my project and went up to play with him.

Or being a part of a Christmas that is 100% about the kids and not remotely about me. A Christmas where I got to sit and “wow!” over each toy that was proudly shown to me or help put batteries into 3,000 little cars or dolls. 

Or watching fireworks on the roof with a few boys at midnight on New Years.

Or even smaller moments, ones I can’t even write because I want to treasure them and keep them all to myself.

For now, at least the next twenty-three days, I’m just trying to hang on to that peace. Some days it’s stronger, other days I think it has disappeared entirely, other days I curse this peace and beg it to leave so that I don't have to, but it’s still there I think. Maybe you’ll see me and say, “I don’t see that peace he talks about in him.” But honestly, I think I’ve had bags under my eyes since age 17 so. This is a step for me.

Just one step. Then another. Then another. Each day. 

In the words of a MUCH, MUCH wiser man than myself,

Give us this day our daily bread. We are to take no thought for the morrow. For this very end has our wise Creator divided life into these little portions of time, so clearly separated from each other, that we might look on every day as a fresh gift of God, another life, which we may devote to His glory; and that every evening may be as the close of life, beyond which we are to see nothing but eternity. 

-John Wesley (part of a commentary on Matthew 6)



It’s funny how numbered days seem to open your eyes. I don’t know why I’m leaving. I’m just following what God has laid on my heart. I don’t exactly know the next thing He’s calling me to. It’s super vague and undefined. I’m just trusting this next step, even when I cannot see where it’s headed.






























Tonight

I think it's been four or five days since I sat with Raym his bed, the bottom of the bunk bed, with my head scrunched against the top mattress. It was like eight thirty something — a few minutes past bed time. But we were talking, so it was kinda okay. 

We were talking about stuff. Well, I guess more specifically, we were talking about material possessions “stuff.” Me, a twenty year old dude with no clue where life is headed, and Raymian, a skinny ten year old boy who is trying to learn how to read. Neither of us are scholars. We’re both pretty simple guys if we’re honest. But we were talking about our dream houses or owning dirt bikes and which sort of dogs we’d like to own someday. Then Kyran, from the top bunk, chimed in and began telling me about his dream to own a house with ten bedrooms and ten bathrooms with ten iPads and ten kitchens. 
But he didn’t stop there.

He continued by saying how when he would see a “mad man” (homeless, shirtless, hungry, muttering men who  live on the streets of Jamaica) or a kid with a ripped shirt, he would pick them up in his BMW and drive them to his house where he would give them their own room and their own stuff. 

I play the “imagine the coolest thing you can” game more than I’d care to admit. I even play that game alone sometimes. It’s a little sad. But for all the time I spend daydreaming about having more stuff, I have never began imagining the coolest house purely so that I can fill it with homeless people or drug addicts. I mean ever. I can honestly tell you I have never thought that. 

But Kyran has. 

How big is this boy’s heart? How did you make a heart that big, God? For a boy whose version of a family is life in a children’s home with a bunch of other boys. 

I said, “You know what Kyran? I think that would make Jesus smile very, very big.”


Then Raymian jumped back in. He asked, “What if when I grow up, I buy a big, big house and then give it to a mad man?” 

A couple days ago I was reading the gospels and a passage immediately came to mind.

“Raymian, I was just reading a chapter where Jesus talked about that! Let me come back and read it to you when I find it tomorrow!” 

“Okay.” 


. . .


I think it's been four or five days since Raymian and I had that talk about “stuff.” 

Dang it. Why has it taken me that long to come back to him and talk about this. 

The boys are in their beds, some already asleep. 

I’m walking by their room and I say, “Goodnight boys.” 

“Jake! Jake! Wait, wait!” 

It’s Raymian. 

The fact that he remembered and had more thoughts about our talk four nights ago is crazy. 
*two octaves up* What, what, Jesus.


I don't really know why Jesus chose today. Honestly I kinda didn't like today a lot. Jesus could have had Raymian ask any other night, but for some reason it was tonight and I'm thankful. 


Anyways.

I’m sitting on Raymian’s bed with my head scrunched against the top bunk again. 
I’ve got my phone out, swiping through Matthew 19. 

Then Peter said in reply, “See, we have left everything and followed you. When then will we have?”
Jesus said to them, “Truly, I say to you, in the new world, when the Son of Man will sit on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelves tribes of Israel. 
And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name’s sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first.

I let Raymian read the last verse. 

“But many who are first will be last, and the last first.” 

“What does that mean?”

“It means that the losers, the people everyone thought were stupid for taking Jesus so seriously, the ones who gave up everything they had for him, they are the ones who will be rewarded, will be with Jesus.”

“What is a hundredfold?”

“It’s this guy’s version of more than we can imagine. It’s such a great, great reward that we can’t picture it in our brains.” 

A little silence for us both to think. 

“So if I give up my house to care for the mad men and the guys asking for money, Jesus likes that?” 

“Yes, Jesus loves that.” 

The more we give up, the more we find in Jesus. Oxymorons or paradoxes are cute on paper, but aren’t so easy in real life. However, listening to these boy’s hearts, especially tonight, reminds me just how priceless Jesus is. He’s worth anything and He’s worth everything. 




I’m not really that good at my job here. I get kinda hyped up by others, (mostly my mom) but I’m admittedly unqualified, broken, and far from the good that the boys deserve. I'd love to be able to make myself look better, but the truth is the past month, I have suuuuuuucked. I get really weary, I don’t know all the answers to all the boy’s questions, and I am oftentimes not the best role model. Recently, I have fallen so short on a daily basis for them. I don’t show up, I’m not there for them sometimes, and I let my own troubles or struggles get in the way of loving them. I mean, I literally just told you it's been four or five nights since I've sat with Raymian. 


But Jesus is very good at his job. He’s the best at it. He’s doing things in Raymian’s heart or Kyran’s heart that I could never do. He’s putting passages in my clueless lap that speak directly to what these boys are thinking about. He’s self-sufficiently and perfectly providing exactly what they need as they need it. And He has let me be a part of that. That is utterly humbling. I don’t deserve that. 

It gives me a little bit of peace tonight knowing that Jesus is good at His job and that regardless of anything I could ever do or where I go, He will continue to do what He does best. 




Ramblings
















Can you go through a midlife crisis when you are 20? Or is that called a Quarterlife Crisis? Is that even a real thing? Google it I guess. Most of this has been written in between desperate attempts to placate/clear/distract/slow my mind by aimlessly surfing the internet. In fact, my most recent internet search histories include, 

“What sort of dog is the dog from Modern Family?” 

“How do you get hair like Whoopi Goldberg if you are white?”

“I want to own a bonsai tree.”

“How long did the oldest hermit live?”

This post is going to have nothing to do with The Nest but also everything to do with The Nest. It’s going to seem very, very unorganized and very, very sporadic. If you thought I was messy before, it’s about to get 2.0. There are going to be a lot of sentences ending in question marks. It is going to make you think less of me, but hopefully more of Jesus. 

In the past month, I have honestly felt little peace. There have been some really, really great moments and some very, very hard days. Yet through it all, I have felt next to no peace at all.
Why don’t I have peace? Because I’m already trying to look into the future and figure out God’s “next step” for my life.

“But why would you do that, Jake?”

Haha shut up. You don’t know me.


I have sometimes said that one of my favourite hobbies is to doubt. If I have free time, I usually spend that free time doubting something. Doubting a person’s motives, doubting a lyric I write, doubting what I am on this Earth to do, doubting myself, doubting where God has me, doubting God himself, doubting my faith, doubting that I am loved, or doubting my very existence because I just watched Inception again. It’s this nonproductive process where you continue to break things down more and more until you are left with only the most basic elements or truths.

Sometimes I doubt whether or not I am even a born again Christ follower. 

“Woah, woah, woah, hold your horses there buddy!”

I know, I know. I shouldn’t say that, right?

I just follow a train of thought, doubting at each stop of the train, so that by the time I’ve reached the end of the tracks, I’ve completely dismantled every shred of confidence or security I have in Christ. I’ve reduced Him to a “maybe” or a shaky possibility. I’ve made the “unfailing One,” the “steadfast rock” a flimsy raft in the middle of a raging sea. All because I won’t just take Him at His word. All because I won’t trust in Him and His plan. All because maybe I don’t want to believe in someone who has that much of a say in my life and how it turns out. All because that kind of being would make me uncomfortable and ask a lot more of me than I am sometimes willing to give. 

Gross Jake. 


Maybe some of my most honest moments happen when I’m too hyped up on caffeine and my hands are shaking.

Can I tell you something? 

Jesus hasn’t told me to go to college yet. Not once.

Jesus hasn’t told me to “be successful, make everyone proud, or build a future for yourself” yet. Not even one time. 

He’s never appeared to me, in dream or in waking, and vocally said, “Go to college, Jake. Make sure you have job security and can make enough money to live comfortably and support a family.”

I kind of wish He had told me to do those things. Like a voice from heaven, super clear, directive from God. But He hasn’t.

The only people who HAVE told me to do those things has been everyone but Jesus. 


In fact, Jesus actually said some very different things. 



Matthew 4:18-22 “While walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fisherman. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 
And going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets, and he called to them. Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.”

In the calling of these men, I am taken aback by how recklessly and almost rashly they abandon their boats, homes, livelihood, even their own father. Perhaps there is some subtext or cultural explanation to explain their actions, but to me, the language of the writer is too clear for me to ignore. These men didn’t barter or question Jesus, they didn’t hem and haw, they straight up followed him. They threw caution to the wind and ran after this man. 

Matthew 5:3-12 
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. 
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. 
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

You know what suck?
The Beatitudes man. The freaking Beatitudes. What does “blessed” even mean in this passage? 

Jesus talks about being “blessed” a lot in Matthew, but I don’t think I really understand his version of blessed. I read this piece by Vaneetha Risner from desiringgod.org and it nearly blew my mind. Ms. Risner writes, 

My desire for God is greatly fueled by my need. And it is in the areas of loss where I feel my need most intensely. Unmet desires keep me on my knees. Deepen my prayer life. Make me ransack the Bible for God’s promises.

While my trials were not blessings in themselves, they were channels for them.

According to the Key-Word Study Bible, “The Greek word translated blessed in these passages is makarioi which means to be fully satisfied. It refers to those receiving God’s favor, regardless of the circumstances” (emphasis added).
What is blessing, then? Scripture shows that blessing is anything God gives that makes us fully satisfied in him. Anything that draws us closer to Jesus. Anything that helps us relinquish the temporal and hold on more tightly to the eternal. And often it is the struggles and trials, the aching disappointments and the unfulfilled longings that best enable us to do that.


I am too few of the things Jesus describes in the Beatitudes. Far, far too few. People who are meek don’t make it in today’s society. People who are merciful are wimps and pushovers. People who are pure in heart are “goody-goodies.” People who are poor in spirit, or mourning, or persecuted, they aren’t “winners.” At least not to our eyes. Why the heck is that? 

Matt 6:19-24 Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. 
The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!
No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.

(25-34)
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? 
And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like on of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, “What shall we eat?” or “What shall we drink?” or “What shall we wear?” For the pagans run after all these things, and our heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matt 9:9 As Jesus went on from there, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax collector’s booth. “Follow me,” he told him, and Matthew got up and followed Jesus.

Matthew 10:37-42 Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. 
‘He who receives you receives me,’ and he who receives me receives the one who sent me. Anyone who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and anyone who receives a righteous man because he is a righteous man will receive a righteous man’s reward. And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward.

Matthew 13:44-46 The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. 
Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it. 

Matthew 16:24-27 Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must first deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Of what can a man give in exchange for his soul? For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what he has done.” 

THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS JUST NOT WORTH THAT MUCH TO ME. THAT KIND OF TRADE DOESN’T COMPUTE IN MY BRAIN. A CROSS OF DEATH FOR ALL MY PASSIONS AND PURSUITS? I CANNOT FATHOM OR IMAGINE SOMETHING THAT MUCH SWEETER, THAT MUCH GREATER AND HIGHER AND BEAUTIFUL. TO ME, I’M NOT WILLING TO GIVE UP EVERYTHING I HAVE FOR JESUS. I WILL GIVE UP A LOT, MAYBE MOST OF WHAT I HAVE, BUT I WON’T GIVE UP EVERYTHING.
HOW CAN I? HOW CAN I? TEACH ME. DO I NOT KNOW YOU ENOUGH? DO I NOT KNOW HOW GOOD YOU ARE? DO I NOT TREASURE YOU THE SAME WAY? WHY DON’T I SEE HOW TRULY WORTH IT YOU ARE?

Matthew 18:1-6 “At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 
He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: ‘I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 
And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, if would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.’”

Matthew 19:16-24 “Now a man came up to Jesus and asked, ‘Teacher, what good things must I do to get eternal life?’ 
‘Why do you ask me about what is good?’ Jesus replied. ‘There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, obey the commandments.’ 
‘Which ones?’ the man inquired. 
Jesus replied, ‘Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not give false testimony, honor your father and mother, and love your neighbor as yourself.’ 
‘All of these I have kept,’ the young man said. ‘What do I still lack?’
Jesus answered, ‘If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
When the young man head this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth. 
Then Jesus said to his disciples, ‘I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.’

Matthew 19:27-30
Peter answered him, “We have left everything to follow you! What then will there be for us?”
Jesus said to them, “I tell you the truth, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man sits on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.”



What I continue to see in these passages and throughout the whole book is this theme of complete and total abandonment for Jesus. Livelihood, plans, future, jobs, family even, Jesus asks for it all. He continually emphasizes that we don’t live for this world — that we should not seek treasures or security or comfort here. There’s this almost stupid invitation in the words Jesus says so often — “Follow Me.” What Jesus is asking in Matthew makes no sense to anyone but those who truly love Jesus. To everyone else, that is too great sacrifice, too high a price, and appears to be throwing your life straight down the drain — a drain of homelessness, poverty, pain, suffering, strife, even death. 

I read all the way through Matthew this past week. Maybe I was looking for something, or maybe Jesus was a little more serious about this than we make him out to be. If you have ever spent more than a week with me, you’ve probably heard me talk about this topic way too much. In each of these passages, I feel that there is something in common, and Jesus doesn’t really mince words about it. Which sucks, because it would be way easier for me if he had been just speaking “allegorically” or “not literally.” 
If you think I’m making this stuff up, read Matthew straight through. You can read the chronological order of each of the chapters I put above. 

But this is the guy who can feed 5,000, who works with what you have, who walks on water, who makes crippled walk, the mute speak, and the deaf hear. He doesn’t joke around and he can certainly provide what you or I need. I mean, look at his track record. 

Yet I still doubt Him. I still hold back. I still worry about my future daily as if He somehow can’t provide or might let my life slip through the cracks.

When my brain starts committing treason and violently attacking me, I like to think of this quote by Frederick Buechner “The place where God calls you is where your deep passion and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
That makes it all seem almost stupidly easy. 

But what do you do when your heart is being pulled by a million different passions? What then, Frederick?

I miss bookstores and going to iHop because all the hipsters go to the weird hipster cafes and iHop just has nice old people. I miss camping with my brothers and hope I can do that again before I’m 80. I weirdly miss college (NOT online classes) and studying. Or is Jesus asking me to lay all that down? Why would He though?
Is He?

Is He asking me to lay down all the things I love more than life? Doesn’t that seem a little cruel? I mean, bookstores and iHop waffles and my brothers aren’t bad or anything. In fact, they are great. 
Why would Jesus ask me to throw everything I care about so dearly away and live some unknown life I might not even love at all? 

I guess I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do. 
I guess I catch myself too often looking far into the future to try and “figure out God’s will.” Stay here, live here, do this stuff, go to school, where to go to school, what to be teacher, doctor, lawyer, missionary, kid-leader, what about a family? What about this girl or this girl? What am I missing by being here that I can’t get back? What matters? What experiences are crucial to my life? AHHHHHHH. 

It’s been an area of a LOT of never-ending frustration and unrest in my deep deep soul. It’s there when I wake up and when I fall asleep. It doesn’t go away and it doesn’t stop. It’s like a self-imposed heavy burden. A recent chapter I read from a book by David Platt talked about us “trying to discern the will of God” and how we’re actually not really supposed to know His over-arching plan, just to live obediently in it every day as we follow Him wherever He leads THAT DAY. In talking with Daniel, he also emphasized “giving each day to God as you wake up.” Just physically saying, “here God, this is YOUR day, what do you want with it?” Not making plans or immediately setting out on your agenda, but seeking HIS unadulterated will for this day FIRST. 

Yet I am still very troubled by the thought of an end date. I guess I said January because that’s one full year and everyone does a “gap year.” But I can actually see just staying here and being with the boys through the entirety of their lives here at the Nest. Picking them up, doing homework, talking through Bible studies, joking about girls, listening to all their stories and jokes, living with them for four or five more years. I’d love it in so many ways, and I actually cannot imagine what it would be like to be an actual, steady, and committed part of their lives; someone they will undoubtedly look back on and immediately remember. Maybe that’s a little selfish of me, but they’ve changed my life, so.

There’s also a part of me that desperately wants to experience college while I’m still “college age.” Go to a party, have real friends, get season tickets to football, walk to class in the winter, work long hours on projects, just have the scholarly mentality again, be in a “learning environment” again among peers. Live in a close-knit community with the best of friends. 

There’s a part of me that wants to be a Wyldlife leader again. In retrospect, that was a huge blessing on my last semester at home and I miss those kids and the community around Wyldlife more than I realize at times. 

There’s a part of me that wants to get serious, sit down, and record this EP I’ve written and see if this might actually connect with people the way it already has. I’ve been trying to record some of it, but it is causing me so much stress. Too much of it is painful, too much of it is confusing, I hate extended periods of introspection, and I’m not 100% sure what I want it to say. Does everything we do have to explicitly mention Jesus? Or does he perhaps shine through the most stupid and worst moments of our lives? I’d kill to someday play some live shows. Man, that would be so cool.

There’s an even weirder parts of me that want to drop everything, move to a super crazy place, start a children’s home or play soccer with the kids in Cambodia or Africa and just do life with kids on their turf and live intentionally with them — always bugging them to meet you or hangout or eat food with them. Maybe I could go back to Hong Kong and meet my students again. I could teach English and disciple through that. 

There’s a part of me that wants to actually have money and a “normal” job. There’s a part of me that wants to own a 5 speed manual Mazda Miata convertible. Freaking zoom, zoom.

There’s a part of me that wants a girlfriend to kiss. 

There’s a part of me that wants to love a girl. To have a deep relationship and connection with another human like that. Kisses, the intimacy of sex, love, doing little things, having a close companionship where everything is out on the table and there is a deep trust as you push each other closer to Christ. 

There’s a part of me that wants to own a camper van or do some serious mountain climbing or skydiving or sailing or surfing or even live homeless in a big city for a year and not really ever have a “life” per say. 

Clearly, I want a lot of things for myself.

Dang, I’m realizing that nearly everything I want in life is only for myself. 

Some of these desires are clearly just selfish and have little to do with Jesus, but others aren’t so clear cut. They are passions He has placed deep in my heart but why???? To what end? Which path God? I only have so many years. 

I also don’t know how I’ll go home. Because I’m terrified of home yet want certain parts of home so badly. Meeting up with friends and actually being a part of their lives, studying and procrastinating, being actually at home, laughing with my brothers at my mom and listening to my dad’s jokes, watching Nate’s game, messing with boys who try to talk to Maddie, oddly enough going to work and talking to Pierre about the weirdest things, driving my car, sitting in church and being able to just be still and learn things from someone who actually knows something as opposed to trying to learn something from myself which never works. 

But even more seriously, I don’t know how I’ll let go of this place and these kids if God calls me to. I’m terrified that I’ll just keep pushing it back and back when God’s telling me to leave, turning a blind eye and a deaf ear because I’m too afraid to let go of them.

With the new directors Kevin and Janet coming, is it time? January? June? Never? When? Days here are so turbulent and go up and down so quickly that I can never get a good feeling for what I feel I’m doing, or rather, what God is doing through me. Am I still doing good, or am I just staying because I have too many uncertainties and decisions looming when I think of “home?”



I hate brains. 




Sometimes I will share all this with someone and they will be so quick to immediately give me “the right answer.”

“Jake, live in the here and now and let God take care of the rest.”

“Jake, we’re not supposed to know every step of our lives.”

“Jake you are over analyzing and over thinking. Simplify and walk with Christ.”

“Jake, lay yourself and your desires down before Jesus. He will guide you.”

I get all that. I really do. I grew up in the church so I’ve heard that said a lot. I’m very fluent in christianese. Yet I find it all so obscure that I don’t know where to begin. I’m a huge fan on concretes and applicable real life steps. People tell me to wait on God and His answer, but I feel like I’ll be waiting until I’m 46. Is that enough for me? To trust that God is going to take care of it? Is trusting Him enough?

I’ve come to realization that some people are wrestlers when it comes to walking with Christ. For them, they are constantly battling with self and with Christ. Like Jacob wrestling the Lord. They aren’t so good at just letting go and trusting God at His word. Every step is a challenge, every sacrifice a heated battle. Yet somehow, I don’t think this takes away from the sweetness of following Jesus and falling more in love with Him. 
I have wrestled with Christ since I was born. Following Him has never been this easy, picturesque walk of being a Christian. I wrestle with Christ at every turn, yet he continues to be long suffering and patient with me. Why, I don’t know. But he does. 




My writing teacher always said your last paragraph should be a recap and a conclusion. I don’t have either of those but thanks for reading.

Previous Posts