The Great Pursuit: A blog about Jesus Burgers

Sons and Daughters { Part I }

2012-02-15T16:49:00.000-08:00

In the letter to the Colossians, God's reign is referred to as "the kingdom of the Son he loves" (vs. 13).

Unlike the Roman Empire or other worldly kingdoms, God's supernatural kingdom is not defined by geography, law, or cultural tradition. Instead, it is rooted in something infinitely greater--the love relationship between the Father and His Son.

Jesus is the Son in whom the Father was "well-pleased" (Luke 3:22). God made this powerful declaration BEFORE Jesus fasted 40 days, healed multitudes, multiplied food, or calmed storms.

More than the shepherd-king David, more than the apostles Paul or John, more than anyone else in history or modernity, Jesus is the ultimate example of how to live in the fullness of our sonship.

Okay, I'm a believer in Jesus and I've come to embrace my new identity as a son or daughter. Now what?
I'm so glad you asked! Get out your Bible--we're about to go for a ride with God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

* PRIVILEGES *

Back in elementary school, one of the 'guidelines' we memorized went like this: "With privilege comes responsibility." However, the privileges I was afforded as a 9-year old hardly seemed that exciting--especially in light of high expectations from teachers, coaches, parents and peers.

Even today I rarely hear the word 'privilege' unless it's followed by a guilt trip citing societal obligations left unmet. But, in the context of God's family, privilege takes on a whole new meaning. Yes!

Read on to see some of the awesome privileges of our sonship:

1) a place in God's family--forever! (I Cor. 12:12-13,

2) a priceless inheritance (Eph. 1:18, Rom. 8:17, Gal. 3:29, Matt. 6:20)

3) 2-way communication with the Father through Jesus (Matt. 6:9, Matt. 21:25)

4) supernatural protection (Jn. 10:27-29, I Cor. 10:12-13)

5) guidance from an all-knowing, trustworthy Father (Is. 58:11, Rev. 16:7

6) a parent who knows how to train and discipline us with perfect love (I Cor. 11:32, Rev. 3:19, Pr. 3:11,12)

7) partnership in God's work in the world (II Cor. 5:18, Matt. 28:19,20)

> > > Part 2 coming soon! (We'll take a look at the responsibilities of sonship--and trust me, these will feel like privileges, too!)

Bound By The Law

2012-01-31T15:41:00.000-08:00

"They're urinating on the wall!"

A young man approached the yard, clearly upset by the less-than-honorable behavior of some bold revelers who had gathered on the sidewalk in front of our property.

I invited him to join our group of three by the fire, thanked him for his concern, and tried to sooth his agitation by striking up a conversation. His name was Doug, and though he first remained aloof and stated he was an agnostic, he soon admitted he was a mass-attending Catholic.

"I pray fervently, take Mass and beg God for forgiveness" he said, "but, I know I'm going straight to hell."

Doug's fervent self-condemnation might as well have been a fist to my stomach.

Here's a guy that was desperately reaching out to God, but finding himself entangled by sin and bound by a grace-less, ironclad law. Though I was willing to agree to disagree on many points of his Catholic theology, I could not--would not--let him stand as his own judge.

"Doug, the death of Jesus on the cross paid the price in full for the sins of humanity..."
"Doug, Christ has come to set us free from the law of sin and death..."
"Doug, no amount of sin or darkness in your past can separate you from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus..."

We talked back and forth for over 30 minutes about the gospel, the teachings of Christ, the power of the blood, and so on. We shared our point of view, compassionately listened to his, and asked a lot of questions.

Though he claimed to have read and studied the Bible, this man could not see past his own distorted view of God. His was not a God of mercy at all. The blood of his Christ could cleanse no one.

We walked him home and Doug allowed us to pray over him and then asked for our number. In the end, we had earned the gifts of friendship, trust and mutual respect. But he left us still convinced that he was beyond hope, that his sins were too dark, his past too corrupt. It was very, very sad.

May we be known in our city as a people who will "always pray and not give up," following Jesus' example of leaving the 99 to go after the one.

Because they are dying without Him.

The "Scientific" Method

2012-01-26T16:10:00.000-08:00

A loud, animated voice drew my attention towards the entrance. A Christian student was listening attentively while a well-dressed peer explained in a loud voice how Christiainty was all wrong and his version of scientific agnosticism was correct.

He was the kind of person who already has a lot to say and when he's had a few beers, there's no getting a word in edgewise.

So I cut in. It was time to get personal.

I introduced myself and my friends, then found out his name was Andrew.

"You're a science guy, right?" I said.

"Yes, absolutely!" he said. "I totally respect that what you guys are doing and the faith you have, though."

"Okay," I said, "right now we've been talking pretty philosophically, so let's bring this into the realm of science. Let's do an experiment--you know, scientific method, observation..."

Andrew's face lit up. "That's awesome. I would love that. I totally appreciate that."

"Okay, we'll all close our eyes and say a quick prayer for God to reveal himself to you in a way that is specific and relevant--a way that makes sense to you personally. At the same time, the three of us will be concentrating and listening to see if God might show us something about you or give us some words of encouragement for you."

He was completely open to the experiment and even bowed his head and put his palms up like I directed him.

I prayed, waited for about 30 seconds, and then broke the silence. He reported that nothing happened, but rushed in with a speech that he still appreciated us. And then he even apologized! That was amusing and sweet because of course we weren't upset.

"Wait just a sec," I said, making sure he didn't dismiss the entire exercise. "Part of the experiment was that we would listen to God on your behalf. Let's check if anyone has something to share."

The three of us took turns sharing the words and pictures we had received. Andrew was interested, listened intently, and thanked us repeatedly. It was nothing too profound or specific, but we presented what we had with humility and love.

He was touched.

"I really appreciate how you would come to my level and relate to me on the way I can understand it best." He looked around at the line for Jesus Burgers. "I think it's wonderful what you guys are doing."

After shaking each of our hands, I offered him a hug and he accepted it gladly, thanking us again. What a relief to go from stranger to friend in under 10 minutes. Praise God for heavenly strategies!

Halloween In Isla Vista

2011-10-24T16:09:00.000-07:00

Please join us in prayer this week as we prepare for our annual Halloween outreach.

And, for those of you who have never been out to Jesus Burgers, here is some of what we do to show the love of Christ:

--provide a unified Christian presence in the epicenter of the street party
--take a stand against the darkness through prayer and worship
--love one another as a living witness of Christ
--offer hospitality in the form of free food (hamburgers)
--give water + general assistance to those suffering from intoxication
--provide a warm fire and place to sit and rest or hang out with friends
--give direction to out-of-towners who have become lost or separated from friends
--listen, make friends, and share the gospel with the lost

A Montana Miracle

2011-10-05T15:07:00.000-07:00

When I graduated high school, I left Montana's Flathead Valley and came to Santa Barbara, California. Four years later, I helped plant a ministry in Isla Vista that brings the message of God's love to partiers.

This year, a young man named Joseph graduated from high school in the Flathead Valley. He left Montana and came to Santa Barbara. He began to drink and party in Isla Vista...until he met some believers from our church.

Even as God was leading me here at the tender age of 17, he knew I would help prepare the way for this teenager from my home state.

To all of my readers in Montana--thank you so much for your prayers and support. Your faith, hope, and love are bearing fruit in California, Montana, and beyond.

Praying For An Open Door

2011-10-01T15:01:00.000-07:00

I take out my camera to snap a photo of the barbeque where Jessica had been adding condiments to each set of buns. To my surprise and delight, she had drawn hearts out of the ketchup and crosses out of the mustard.

A voice to my right cuts in: "Why don't you take a picture of me?"

I turn to see a smiling, albeit partially intoxicated young man. We snapped a group photo and he introduced himself as Vinny.

Here's some of his story: A few years before he had been arrested in Isla Vista once on an outstanding warrant (no, I didn't ask). He did his time at the local juvenile prison camp for boys and successfully graduated their GED program. Cool.

He told me he was in search of a job--no small task for a young Latino man with a criminal record.

"I would love to pray for you about that," I said. "Would that be okay?"

He paused, gave a good-natured What the heck? shrug and nod and then bowed his head with me--his three friends waiting in the wings. I prayed boldly that God would open a door for him and that he would find favor and opportunity. His friends quickly got into it, nodding and adding their un-churched version of "Amen."

They all seemed pretty stoked. Vinny gave me a hug and thanked me and they disappeared back into the street.

Pray for the young Latinos of Isla Vista--that God would transform their lives and give them a hope and future through Christ.

Meeting God On Del Playa Drive

2011-09-20T11:27:00.000-07:00

My old friend Chris came to town the other day. He is a pilot in the United States Air Force and had been stationed several states away.

I had the privilege of living with Chris during his senior year at UC Santa Barbara. He was as honest and hardworking as a housemate as he was as a student. Our ministry house was blessed to have him.

Sunday afternoon he came to our church service in Jason's backyard. As the saints worshipped, he surveyed the crowd, eyes filling. Chris has a very compassionate spirit, and I knew when he observed something profound, he felt it very deeply.

Later, Nate and I joined him on a walk down to Del Playa Drive and the ocean. He was quiet as memories came flooding back: partying on that same street numerous times and then encountering God in a way that changed his life.

Chris let us record his testimony for JesusLovesIV.com. He choked up a few times and we were interrupted by a polite skateboarder, but the experience was beautiful. For that moment, we all stood on holy ground.

New Website Launches!

2011-09-16T13:47:00.001-07:00

Go to JesusLovesIV.com to find a sampling of video testimonies, sermon and worship excerpts, and general news and updates about God's work in Isla Vista.

For Nate and me, these videos represent hundreds of hours of filming, importing, editing, and processing. We are excited to share them with you and praise God for the opportunity to contribute our time and skills to this cause.

Here's a sampling of one of the testimonies we did:

Leave of Absence

2011-07-27T14:06:00.000-07:00

I have taken a leave of absence from blogging due to travel, filmmaking, getting married, and lack of consistent internet access.

The good news is that my husband and I are working on a series of testimony videos that will be featured on a new website called JESUS LOVES ISLA VISTA, set to launch September 2011!

Now those of you who have been reading stories from this blog will be able to hear/watch them straight from the mouths of the students whose lives have been transformed.

In the meantime, feel free to peruse the archives, shoot me an email or leave positive feedback.

Also, anyone who is interested in contributing financially to our film ministry can do so at this address: Nathanael + Derika Sims, PO Box 8716, Goleta, CA, 93118.

Thanks, everyone!
Derika [Brendsel] Sims

Photo caption: Nate and I walk through Isla Vista on our way to the reception site. Photo by Josh Morton

Calming the Storm

2011-02-25T18:44:00.000-08:00

I had taken to greeting people at the front entrance when I found myself chatting with an old co-worker of mine who had been around the IV party scene for years.

His friend Ben--a collegiate rugby player with a thick South African accent--was scarfing down his Jesus burger while spewing rancor against "the church."

Using the most profane words possible, he railed against the Pope who "knew of abuses" in the Roman Catholic Church and took no action to protect children. He wrote off the validity of the Bible as being penned by "men who thought the world was flat." And on and on he ranted.

I assured him that he was correct about many of his accusations; the atrocities committed by people in the name of God were wrong and not condoned by Christ. If he would have stopped shouting for a minute he would have heard me encourage him to pursue Christ the man; to study his life and teachings and not allow the evil of humanity to distract from Christ's pure love.

But Ben had been cut deep by his experience of church, and he did not have an ear to hear.

After a few heated minutes, Ben and his companion left, and I fled to the prayer shed to recover. Later in the night, I saw the duo had returned to our property, this time in engaged in discussion with another believer. I did not know what was said, but at least now he seemed to be containing his volume.

I took a seat by the fire to rest and pray. To my surprise, Ben came and sat down next to me. Now completely calm, he began to hang out as if nothing had happened, drawn to our home and hearth by the unseen tug of the God who pursues him in love.

Redirected

2011-01-08T22:09:00.000-08:00

On the Sunday after Christmas my effort to check out a new church service was thwarted. Evidently the evening service had been cancelled for the holidays. I was bummed and slightly annoyed. On the way back to the parking garage, I spotted a used bookstore. Nate and I stopped in to browse.

It was quite large and featured a blue chandelier that was probably six feet wide. It had neat shelves of books organized into all kinds of topics like art, history, religion, fiction, politics and the like.

After about twenty minutes of taking in hundreds of titles, I felt drawn to return to the religion section for a second pass. I prayed and asked the Lord to show me any books he wanted me to purchase.

A moment later, I fell upon Moments Together For Couples, a devotional by Dennis and Barbara Rainey. I grabbed it up. Each page of daily readings had a discussion question at the bottom followed by a topic for prayer.

January is the perfect time to start a daily devotional. Even though I missed out on the church service, God directed me to a book that will be a blessing all year long!

"A man's heart plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps." ~Prov. 16:9

Sweet Serenade

2010-12-21T17:36:00.000-08:00

It all started one night last spring when a high school senior got up on one of the picnic tables at Jesus Burgers and sang The Star Spangled Banner to all assembled.

It was memorable, partially because we don't often get serenaded at Jesus Burgers, partially because her voice was so beautiful, and also because she and her friends were so young. (Although some high school students do join the college party scene, it is much less common.)

Fast forward months later to the fall. I walk out into the front yard for Jesus Burgers and before the grill is even warm, I am recognized by a college freshmen sitting near the fire pit.

She reminds me of that night and tells me that she is one of the girls who had come up from San Diego to party. She was very excited to see me and to connect me to her roommate that she classified as "very religious."

After a while her friends encouraged her to move on with them to a party down the street. She told them she'd rather stay and talk to me. I was surprised and excited. We spent the whole evening together talking about God and Isla Vista Church, reading Scripture, and even sitting in on some intercession and worship in the prayer shed.

The next day, she brought her friend and roommate to the family dinner we have after each church gathering. Thanksgiving break came and went and then two became four when she brought her other roommates to church.

I am so excited to welcome these four beautiful young women into our circle of friends. Pray for the freshmen class, that many more would find a supportive Christian community and live out their college years in service to Christ.

The Isaiah Scroll

2010-12-19T13:50:00.000-08:00

Today, I had the privilege of viewing the Isaiah scroll, discovered in the caves of Qumran near the Dead Sea. One of only three replicas in the world, this amazing document holds some of the most powerful words and prophecies ever written.

Had I been able to study those beautiful words in Isaiah's native Hebrew tongue, I would have read this:

"The Lord himself will give you a sign: "The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel." ~ Isaiah 7:14 (NIV)

And this:

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever." ~ Isaiah 9:6,7 (NIV)

What an incredible heritage we have as sons and daughters of the kingdom! Praise God for the living witness of Scripture and the prophetic fulfillment of all God's promises in Christ.

Inspired By TOMS

2010-11-12T22:45:00.000-08:00

I came upon this TOMS Shoes van today and it made me smile.

It's one thing for a business to donate to charity; it's quite another to give away 50% of their product year after year. (For those of you who aren't familiar with TOMS, they have a "one for one" policy; for every one pair of shoes purchased, one free pair is given to a child in need.)

Christian entrepreneurs should be inspired when they see this type of business model. You don't have to start a non-profit or be a foreign missionary to help the poor. With the amount of talent, energy, passion and resources represented in the little beach town of Isla Vista, I know we can change the world!

"Those who give to the poor will lack nothing, but those who close their eyes to them will receive many curses." -Prov. 28:27 (NIV)

God bless and inspire the business majors with kingdom creativity. Amen.

Preaching to Jesus

2010-11-04T14:14:00.000-07:00

"False Messiah at ten o'clock. Red alert."

I flashed Nate a smile as he followed my gaze towards the street. An Asian 20-something with a fake beard and loin cloth had stationed himself in front of our wooden cross and was "preaching" to the multitudes.

"My children, my children: come to me and I will bless you for all of your sins." Raising his arms in grand display, he beckoned the multitudes to come. "I love all my children. Come to me, come to me, my children."

We tried unsuccessfully to strike up a conversation, complimenting him on his crown of thorns and interjecting small talk. After about three minutes of preaching over our heads, he suddenly stopped, turned to us, and said in a normal voice, "Hey, sorry if you guys are offended. I didn't mean any disrespect."

We talked back and forth for the next 20 minutes with the Asian Jesus aka Mitchell. He was a bio/chem major who didn't believe in God because he couldn't prove his existence using science.

Oddly enough, Mitchell appeared totally sober and open-minded. He listened carefully as we shared about our faith in Jesus and the mystery of human beings entering a relationship with the God of the universe.

"Think about it like this," Nate said, fusing the perfect blend of logic and spirituality: "What if it's as simple as us trying to 'prove' or 'measure' God using the wrong tools? If God is spirit and we humans have a spirit inside of us, perhaps the only true way to know that God exists is to connect with him from inside ourselves."

Mitchell nodded, interested. "Have you both had an experience of God?"

"Absolutely," I said. He seemed impressed and interested. We continued our discussion, learning that he does not often find people in IV who will listen and respect him when they disagree. I thanked him for his honesty and assured him of our respect for him and his views. I offered to pray for him. He agreed, which I was thankful for, considering the revelry swirling around us.

I can't remember all that I asked God for on Mitchell's behalf; there was so much commotion around us that it was hard to concentrate. I do know that I spoke blessing, purpose and identity over him and that I meant it with all my heart. When I finally said "Amen," he pulled me into his arms, hugging me tight.

"I have to go now because I'm getting emotional" he said, turning away so we wouldn't see his face. He walked away to join a friend and I watched him go, smiling. It's not every day you get to share the gospel with Jesus.

IV Church Settles Into New Location

2010-10-25T13:45:00.000-07:00

After a wonderful year of meeting together for worship in the back of Jason and Holly's backyard, it was evident that our growing congregation needed more space. After prayerful consideration, Jason approached the leadership of the Korean Methodist Church on Camino Del Sur--less than a block away. They gave their approval for our 4pm service and the Lord provided funds for rent.

Mac and the team leading worship.

The congregation intercedes for Isla Vista.

With lots of natural light, a large stage and plenty of room for worshippers, the move is proving to be a timely blessing as the weather starts to cool.

A Question of Evolution

2010-10-20T10:47:00.000-07:00

A group of believers stood around an 8-ft tall wooden cross that had been brought out for the evening. No street preaching, just a silent witness. Some partiers took the time to stop and talk, others walked quickly by, eyes forward, still others shouted remarks from a safe distance.

One young man yelled "It's called evolution!" clapping his hands and applauding our 'stupidity.' He didn't stop to elaborate, but continued on his way, chest puffed out, heart hard.

I don't know enough about evolution to satisfy a 19-year-old atheist who takes college courses on the matter, but I do know that the creation is groaning; waiting in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. (Rom. 8)

Free Prayer

2010-10-06T10:15:00.000-07:00

We grabbed a large piece of plywood with the words "FREE PRAYER" painted on it and leaned it up against a blue recycle bin that we had rolled into the street. Within seconds, partiers began approaching us, some requesting prayer, others wanting to know who we were and what our motives were.

Logan, a plumber from LA County, came over and asked what religion I belonged to. He had been in Catholic school until the age of 15, had a father who was a meth addict and a mother who he described as "another story." His parents were divorced and he told me that he wanted to pray for all of the well-to-do students around him who had come from privileged families. He wanted them to know just how good they had it. I could see the chip on his shoulder and hear the resentment in his voice.

We talked for probably ten minutes and he did finally let me pray for him. As we came before God, two of his friends grabbed onto his arms and shoulders and began to physically pull him away. He braced himself and stood firm, head bowed, until I was finished. Then he took off into the crowd.

Later that night, Logan reappeared, and I got the opportunity to share the gospel, explain the difference between law and grace, and encourage him to read the Bible. I pray that God continues to pursue him and that even through the alcohol he would remember our conversation.

Learning From Jesus { Luke 4:14-30 }

2010-09-07T12:02:00.000-07:00

Luke the physician provides fascinating details into the life of Jesus during the beginning of his public ministry:

Jesus was filled with the power of the Holy Spirit (v. 14) and he preached throughout Galilee, receiving praise from men and causing a stir throughout the countryside.

When he went to the synagogue in his hometown (Nazareth), he declared his life mission as a fulfillment of Isaiah 61. Those attending were impressed by the grace of his words and surprised that the son of a carpenter could speak in such a way.

Jesus went on to proclaim that their familiarity with him would lead to his rejection. He cites an example from the Scriptures where God shows mercy and works miracles for a widow in Sidon instead of Israel. The Jews became so enraged they attempt to kill him.

Throughout the ministry of Jesus, he was constantly being praised or criticized, worshipped or feared, liked or hated. So it is with his followers today.

Non-believers may be drawn to us as people but repulsed by our message of salvation through Christ alone. Some will love our compassion and our service and reject our commitment to forgiving without exception.

Like Jesus, we must entrust ourselves to “Him who judges justly” (I Peter 2:23) and continue our heavenly commission no matter how we are received by others.

Giving Thanks & Praise

2010-09-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

There is something about the back to school season that's always been exciting for me. Doing ministry in a college town makes it even better, as dozens of faces reappear after a three-month hiatus.

The fall is also harvest time--a season of celebration and joy, of thanksgiving to the God that has so faithfully provided year after year.

With the beginning of our ninth year as a ministry right around the corner, I would like to share a list of praises from last year.

---Our Del Playa ministry houses; what a wonderful group we had last year!

---Christine, Julianna and Holly faithfully preparing dinner for us every Sunday evening.

---Little Samuel and Hope laying on hands and praying for healing.

---Westmont College (my alma mater) students driving out to IV to fellowship with us--and coming back again and again!

---Mac, Liselle, and Darren leading us in worship. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

---Our friends at the Salvation Army donating the hamburger for our weekly Jesus Burgers outreach and Joseph's wonderful oversight of all the logistics.

---Pastor Jason: a source of encouragement, counsel, and friendship to our church family. What a wonderful shepherd God has given us!

"The Lord has done great things for us and we are filled with job." ~ Ps. 126:3

{ Behind the Scenes }

2010-09-01T08:45:00.000-07:00

I hope you will forgive my long absence from the blog. We do not have Jesus Burgers during the summer months (it begins again at the end of September). I have also been traveling to promote a Christian film I've been working on as well as spending time with my parents out of state. Thanks for your patience and support!

Fruit That Will Remain

2010-07-09T22:50:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I walked into The Garden--a church plant out of Costa Mesa's popular Rock Harbor church. It meets in an upstairs nightclub in the heart of downtown.

My friend began chatting with a guy in his early twenties clad in skinny jeans and a button-up. We were introduced, and he turned out to be the pastor, Darren Rouanzoin.

"Where are you from?" he asked. I told him that I live in the Santa Barbara area. His face brightened and he asked which part.

"I do ministry in Isla Vista" I said. You should have seen the look of surprise and joy on his face. Darren proceeded to tell me how he came Isla Vista as a freshman back in 2002. He had strayed from the Christian faith of his upbringing and began exploring Buddhism and partying.

One Friday, Darren was walking past the DP House where Jesus Burgers were being served. One of the believers encouraged him to walk with his red [beer] cup upside-down so he would not be ticketed for underage drinking. He knew she was a believer, and her kind, non-judgmental words cut him to the core. In that moment, he saw what his life had become.

"It was God's kindness leading me to repentance," Darren remembers.

The following few Sundays, Darren came to Isla Vista Church and re-dedicated his life to God. He left Santa Barbara and continued his education at a private Christian college in Orange County.

Now, eight years later, he is married and pastoring the new church in Long Beach. He points to the months he spent in Isla Vista as one of the most pivotal times in his life.

"This church here" he said, gesturing to the crowd, "is direct fruit from your ministry in Isla Vista."

God in his grace had used our fledging church, barely a few months old at the time, to change a life forever. How awesome!

Letter From A Reader

2010-06-08T11:39:00.000-07:00

This morning I wanted to share a beautiful email I received from a reader in Bigfork, Montana.

Hi Derika--

It's Bill---Just for the record, I am 70 years old and very much in love with my wife of 40 years (Marilyn). We truly get excited when we see people like you and your sisters who have committed their lives to serving Christ!! Keep up the good work--I get thrilled when looking at your blog.

With love in Christ,

Bill

----
To the body of Christ in Isla Vista: your labor in the Lord is encouraging believers across the country. Keep up the good work--His kingdom is advancing!

"One generation will commend your works to another; they will tell of your mighty acts." ~ Psalms 145:4

A Man and His Cross

2010-06-07T14:33:00.000-07:00

"If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." ~Jesus

Today I heard a shout and I ran to the window to see what was going on. What I saw prompted me to grab a camera and dart outside. A middle-aged man with a backpack and a huge wooden cross on his shoulder walked past my building. A car sped by and the stranger disappeared down the road just as quickly as he had come.

I do not know this man's name, his heart or his convictions. I don't know what kind of treatment he has received in the neighborhood I call home.

I wonder what he thinks about as he makes his solitary trek across town. Is he praying for the city? Is he making a statement to society? Is he communing with the Savior?

Whatever his intentions, I pray that his journey would point others to the original Cross-bearer.

May we learn to share in the fellowship of Christ's sufferings by enduring the reproach of self-death.

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." ~Gal. 2:20

County Supervisors Turn Up the Heat

2010-06-02T17:21:00.000-07:00

It looks like Isla Vista residents will soon be facing harsher consequences for underage drinking.

Click here to read the full article from the Santa Barbara Independent.

Freshmen Faith

2010-06-01T18:42:00.000-07:00

"Do you guys believe in the Eucharist?" asked John, a wavy-haired blond who had just advanced to the front of the burger line.

With that we began a long conversation where John presented many other burning questions he had about God: Is it harder for a rich person to become a Christian? Shouldn't it be enough to believe in God and not Jesus? What about the Apocrypha?

John attended a small Christian school his entire life. His teachers "pushed" the Bible on him and expelled students for "being gay or using drugs." As a freshman at UCSB, John still prays to God daily, but is not as convinced when it comes to Jesus Christ.

"I'm exploring other religions," he said "but I also want to read books like Mere Christianity and More Than A Carpenter."

His roommate Joey eagerly joined in. Despite the shots he had taken earlier in the night, Joey was well-spoken and eager to take a break from the revelry for the sake of a conversation about spiritual things.
"We come out here all the time," he said, "but the party scene is not really that fun. It's just what everyone does." Joey told me how he struggled with an addiction to drugs that landed him in rehab as a teen.

I found his honesty wonderfully refreshing, especially on Del Playa.

Joey had recently switched his major to Bio-Psych but we mostly talked about philosophy. He had come to a strong belief in the existence of God through logic and reason.

When John thanked me and headed home, Joey asked if he could stay and talk. Later, I brought him some water and offered to pray him. He agreed and expressed his thankfulness right away.

Between the two of them, I spent about ninety minutes doing Bible Q & A as well as listening and sharing about God. It was wonderful finale to a great year of Jesus Burgers. Praise the Lord!

On The Grill

2010-06-01T13:01:00.000-07:00

Praise the Lord for Joseph, our fearless grill master whose faithful service makes Jesus Burgers possible. We love you, Joseph!

Virtue or Vice?

2010-05-25T10:10:00.000-07:00

Though Isla Vista borders the campus of UCSB, many of the students who live and party here actually attend the junior college downtown.

One day I got into a conversation about James Bond with a guy I know from the baseball team. We talked about the various films and he shared reasons why the character appealed to him.

At the end, he told me, "I like him because he’s a player." I must have blinked in surprise, but he didn't notice.

"That’s every guy’s dream—to be James Bond. He drives nice cars, sleeps with girls. . .and he’s smooth."

He nodded as his eyes drifted upward, a dreamy smile spreading across his face.

Yikes! I think our generation could use some better role models in film and television, wouldn't you say? Pray for the believers in Hollywood to make an impact through quality stories and characters of substance.

A Friendly Agnostic

2010-05-24T20:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes conversations begin in the strangest ways.

I was sitting on the cinder block wall at the entrance to the yard when a young man came over and started talking to me.

His name was Johnny and his friend Nicolai was attempting to hit on a young girl (he didn't realize she was a believer and was there with our ministry, not for the party scene). Being the good friend that he was, Johnny was waiting patiently for Nicolai to work his magic--basically, get her number. He kept track of his friend out of the corner of his eye while nonchalantly killing time with me.

In less than five minutes I learned that Johnny was working on his PhD in Computer Science, was raised by Muslim parents, and considered himself an agnostic. I found him to be one of the more open people I've met in a while. He had a great attitude and enthusiastically engaged with me about the things of God.

At the end of our conversation I asked, "Would you let us pray for you and see if our God would reveal anything to us that he wants you to know?"

He agreed and allowed some friends and me to pray and prophesy over him. The Spirit was faithful to reveal the Father's heart and Johnny listened intently to each word. At the end, he shook our hands and thanked us. Then he and Nicolai disappeared into the night.

That was three weeks ago. This past Saturday I was sitting in the same place. Some time after midnight I looked up and Johnny was there, smiling that great smile of his. "I recognized you," he said, "and wanted to come over and say hello."

I was surprised because Isla Vista is home to thousands of students. Johnny asked how my night was going, shook my hand, and then went back to his friends and continued down the block.

It's not every day that a Muslim-raised agnostic remembers you--favorably--and goes out of his way to say hello. Pray for Johnny, that the seeds of truth and love planted in his life would grow unto salvation.

Knowing the Real Jesus

2010-05-19T10:09:00.000-07:00

I'm standing on the front porch just after the mob has cleared and the final burgers have been eaten. A young guy with a decent-sized afro and a sign advertising a Jazz/Reggae Festival approaches me.

We strike up a conversation. His name was Austin and he was talkative, confident, and drunk.

"Is your man around here?" he asked, "Because I dig you." Excuse me? This was obviously his not-so-subtle way of checking if I was "available."

I let him know that I was all about Jesus and that he was out of luck. He was quick to assure me that Jesus was his Lord and Savior too, but that he had a flesh and it wanted to. . . well, you know.

Austin then proceeded to talk (and talk and talk) about the greatest commandment and the necessity of good works and obedience to the commands of God. He was throwing Scripture out right and left and sidestepping all of my questions aimed at determining his own relationship with God.

Even though he was quoting dozens of verses, the spirit inside me felt a total disconnect. I could not lend my "Amen" or consider him a brother. Despite his Bible knowledge, he was neither loving nor kind nor gentle nor self-controlled. In fact, I could easily detect more "fruits" of the flesh than of the Spirit.

When he mentioned something about the New World Translation, it all made sense: He had been raised Jehovah's Witness. I brought up the subject of Christ's divine nature and the reality of the Holy Spirit as a person not a force. It all unraveled from there.

[No matter how much Scriptural knowledge someone has or what kind of Christian-sounding terms they use, the essential issue is what they believe about Jesus. Is he God in the flesh or just a prophet and good teacher?]

Luckily, another believer picked up with Austin where I left off and was able to steer the conversation towards the things of his heart. Tears began to stream down Austin's face and he said, "It's been over a year since I've talked about God."

Pray for Austin, that he would come to know the real Jesus, and that Christ's indwelling Spirit would renew him from the inside out.

Fostering Friendship

2010-05-12T10:52:00.000-07:00

I was sitting by the fire when a smiling girl in glasses plopped down beside me. Her name was Jessica and she had a wonderful enthusiasm and joy about her.

We were talking back and forth as I asked her questions about school, her hobbies, etc. She wasn't sure what she wanted to major in, so I advised her to be cautious about school loans. That's when she told me she had been in foster care and as a result receives financial aid for college.

Boy, did I flip! Some of you may know that I am currently writing a screenplay about foster care and adoption--a project God put on my heart nearly four years ago that is now nearing it's end.

"Oh, my gosh!" I said, grabbing Jessica's arm in excitement. She was surprised at my excitement and I filled her in. She happily shared her story as I hung on every word.

At first, she was quick to tell me that she was an agnostic, but by the end of our time together I discovered that she had a childhood best friend who took her to church for years--a girl she is still very close to! It is clear that there are many seeds that have been planted in her life.

The next day she Facebooked me with this message: "Did I, or did I not have an incredibly meaningful and heartfelt conversation with you on the night of Saturday, May 1st?"

Jessica is moving to town this fall and I look forward to getting to know her more. Praise the Lord for his divine appointments!

Photo courtesy of Jason Lomelino at www.lomelinosiniv.blogspot.com

Kingdom Joy

2010-04-15T09:46:00.000-07:00

One day I was enjoying the beauty of Isla Vista's Fortuna Park with my friend Ryan. A radiant little boy of about two skipped past the swing set over to our bench. He started rapid-fire chattering to us in some sort of language I didn't understand--a cross between baby talk and alien.

Darting over to a flowering bush, he picked a yellow blossom, ran back, and presented it to me with a grin. Leaping into the air he shouted, "YAY!" It was the first word I could understand.

He continued grinning and throwing his arms into the air and chattering to us with sheer delight. It was the PUREST form of joy I have ever witnessed. Ryan and I looked at each other, amazed.

Just then, another boy ran over, dressed in the same outfit, bearing the same angelic little face. They were identical twins! I watched as he began to exalt in life with as much zeal and freedom as the first.

It was as if those children were living in the center of the kingdom of God: wildly joyful, stunningly beautiful, totally free. I could not get over how wonderful it felt to be around them, to see their eyes shine, to hear their constant laughter. It was simply AMAZING... and contagious!

Praise God!

The Morning After

2010-04-10T14:49:00.000-07:00

It was a simple photograph: a guy and a girl smiling broadly, arms around each other, sporting dark sunglasses and baseball caps. She wore no makeup and he was unshaven. Instead of her usual feminine top, she (a girl I once knew) wore a men's button-up dress shirt.

It is one of millions of photos posted on a social networking site. I wouldn't have thought anything of it except for the caption printed below the faces.

The guy had written three simple words: "The morning after."

I read them slowly, my stomach sinking.

It is one thing for an individual and a culture to practice and even embrace a lifestyle of debauchery and sexual "freedom." It is quite another to advertise it on a live feed for all of your friends to witness.

To the women of Isla Vista, I offer this prayer: That you would know your beauty, inside and out, that you would grow up under the adoring gaze of your Father in heaven, that you would run far and fast from all the enticements of this world and straight into the arms or your heavenly bridegroom. You are worth far, far more than you realize.

Praying in the Streets

2010-03-07T10:10:00.000-08:00

Last night after prayer and worship we made a corporate decision to forgo grilling Jesus Burgers in favor of hitting the streets. We broke up into groups, walking around Isla Vista and stopping to share a word of encouragement and offer prayer.

At one point I was with two guys from the ministry house. We took a walk down Sabado Tarde, talking about God and looking for anyone with crutches.

We passed a petite brunette heading in the opposite direction. The Lord gave Daniel a word of knowledge and he jumped on it, calling out, "Excuse me, are you a dancer?" She stopped in her tracks and told him that she was. Bingo.

We crossed the street to talk with her. As he saw her up close, Chris realized they had met a month before when he and a friend had escorted her and her intoxicated roommate safely back to their apartment.

It was clear that God was pursuing her.

As she shared her story, she began to cry, confessing that she had experienced the hardest six months of her life. With three friends dying in three months, a DUI and an MIP (Minor in Possession), she was overwhelmed.

"I used to be so devoted to God" she said, "but for the last two years I've strayed away. Now life has gotten so hard and I'm dependent on alcohol." Tears streamed down her face. She was broken, desperate, and longing to know God again but filled with shame and disappointment at how far she had fallen.

She let us pray for her and God showed us how he loves her as his daughter and how he could come and heal her pain and restore joy to her life. We got her number and invited her to come to church with us the next day.

"Normally I work every single Thursday and Saturday" she said, "except this week I'm off. Please send me a text message tomorrow and I will come."

Praise the Lord for his his faithful love to leave the 99 in pursuit of the one.

Once Upon A Prayer Walk

2010-02-08T10:40:00.000-08:00

On Saturday night I took two friends for a prayer walk down Del Playa drive while the grill warmed up for the night's outreach. We were less than a block from campus when the pulsating beat of an expensive sound system flooded the night.

A crammed balcony boasting dozens of students seethed and writhed as half-drunk bodies gyrated to the rhythmic beat. The yard was jammed with revelers, some giving up a shout as the deejay egged them on with a call to "Put your *bleep bleep* hands together."

We paused on the sidewalk across the street to watch and pray, hearts heavy at the sight of 200 of our peers gripped by an illusion.

After a few moments, one man caught my attention. He wore a skin-tight black T-shirt with biceps bulging from the sleeves. His stylish messenger cap was pulled down over his eyebrows and he had a cell phone at his ear and a Red Bull in one hand. His arms were made of steel and muscle and if I didn't suspect that he was probably insecure under all of that bravado, I would have chickened out of what I knew I had to do.

We stood and prayed until the deejay signed off in observance of the community sound ordinance. The revelers began to scatter and the macho man joined two friends. It was now or never. I gulped back my hesitation and began walking towards them. I feared he would respond to me with a "Who the hell are you?" or punch me, or both. Gulp.

I smiled, introduced myself and stuck out my hand. He took it immediately, giving me a hearty shake and telling me his name was Austin. When he began introducing his two friends, I fumbled, not expecting to be afforded that simple gesture of kindness. I shook two more hands and turned back to Austin before I could change my mind.

"I felt like I should come over here and tell you that God is seeking you and reaching out to you and that if you turn to him, he will change your life."

I don't know how the friends reacted, but Austin took it in, responding right away, "So you felt that right now and that's why you came over?"

"Yeah, I did" I said, looking into his eyes with all sincerity. "Just take it for what it's worth, okay?"

"Cool," he said, "that's wisdom. All right, all right." He shook my hand goodbye and thanked me as I joined my friends and disappeared out of his life as quickly as I had come.

Pray for Austin to reach out to the God who sought him in the crowd and whose Spirit can grant him real strength.

From the Inside Out

2010-01-29T21:53:00.000-08:00

It is Friday night, and I am still. Just outside my window the voices of a generation call back and forth to one another. While I am here in my apartment thinking, creating, praying, and writing, they are in the street, making the four block trek to Del Playa Drive.

Jesus said that the road to destruction would be broad; easy to find. In Isla Vista, it runs right past my apartment. Two dorm buildings, 3000 college freshman. Five blocks. That's all it will take.

Simply choosing not to join with party-seeking friends will not make a person good. Trust me, I know firsthand. I have lived the first half of my life from the outside in--right actions, right choices, right clothes, right facial expressions. Getting it right reaps rewards.

But Jesus said that a man's heart was the source for his words and thoughts and choices. If it is in a person's heart to rebel against authority, degrade their bodies for the thrill of the moment and to live for themselves at every opportunity, then no amount of preaching or self-will can cure them.

The students of Isla Vista need a heart transplant, plain and simple. A bad tree cannot bear good fruit, no matter how neatly it is pruned. Pray that God would transform this city, one heart at a time, that each student would be free to see the narrow road and compelled to walk on it because of Love.

Thorns of Love

2010-01-14T09:13:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday at Jesus Burgers a particular young couple caught my eye.

He was drunk and silly. She, mostly sober, underage (a freshman, in fact), and fawning over him (her first boyfriend) and their new lap dog affectionately referred to as "our baby."

According to Facebook, her religious views are "Jewish, Atheist." I greeted them with a smile and brought him a cup of cold water, but they did not have ears to hear.

My heart aches for them.

I know that searching for significance, satisfaction, and emotional security in each other instead of God will leave them frustrated and brokenhearted. But even this is God's grace.

Hosea 2:6 reads "I will block her path with thorns."

For Hosea's unfaithful wife Gomer and the nation of Israel as a whole, a hedge of thorns was symbolic of God's loving-kindness. The greater the obstacles to sin--and the more painful--the more likely the wayward beloved would return.

God in his love and mercy obstructs our course with thorns in order that we might turn back to Him before we run too far down the road of destruction.

He did it for the Prodigal son and the nation of Israel and he has done it for me. Lord, block this couple's path with thorns that the pain of worldly living might turn their hearts to you.

Blessings At the Beach

2010-01-04T20:48:00.000-08:00

On Saturday my friend and I walked from my apartment down to the water to go tide pooling. (Yes, in January. I am ridiculously blessed.)

We were saw plenty of sea anemones and some cool seashells, but not much else. I remembered seeing my first (and last) starfish over three years ago and prayed for the Lord to give me another one as a sign of his favor and love.

First, we found a sickly-looking gray one that had only four arms. Not much favor there...

But I believed God could do better, and He did! I found this orange one (below) and about five more, including one in my favorite color--lavender.

God is good! Happy New Year, everyone!

Christmas "Break"

2009-12-17T16:43:00.000-08:00

On Monday night would-be thieves scoured our almost-vacant apart building in search of an unlocked door or window. One of the downstairs tenants saw two men hop over the fence empty-handed.

The next morning, the hood ornament from my roommate's Mercedes was missing.

It’s Christmas break and that means the thousands of college students living in Isla Vista have gone home. Each year in late December our boisterous community turns into a serene beachside ghost town…replete with holiday break-ins targeted at the hundreds of vacant apartments left behind.

Today, the local ABC news affiliate ran a story with this headline: LOCAL COLLEGE COMMUNITY LEADS NATION IN PROPERTY CRIMES.

Though I have yet to be burglarized (I keep my apartment and bedroom door locked year-round), my car has had the side mirror broken off four times and been severely keyed and dented once. Another time a dent in the door mysteriously appeared after it had been parked on a main artery into the city.

It's a good reminder (especially around the holidays) to "store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal." -Matthew 6:20

Sunday Surprises

2009-12-09T21:18:00.000-08:00

On Sunday at IV Church we welcomed some students from a ministry school in Redding. After the message, the one named Matt asked if I had any lower back pain. I have dealt with this on and off for all of my adult life and I especially feel it when standing for long periods of time. He suggested that the length of my legs could be slightly uneven and offered to check.

I took a seat on the banquette in the very back and held my legs out as he took my heels in both hands. Wouldn't you know, my left leg was over an inch shorter than my right!

"You want to see a miracle?" he said to the guy sitting nearby. He called him over to watch God lengthen my leg.

Matt commanded the leg to grow in a quiet voice (the service was still going on) and it started to happen. I held my legs, hips and body completely still and was positive that I was not angling my body or moving in any way. A little bit at a time MY LEG GOT LONGER until the left heel was flush with the right.

I couldn't feel anything--good or bad--but the proof was in the pudding. I am excited to see good results in my low back issues now that I have even legs to stand on.

Glory to God.

Then Matt announced that anyone with back problems should come get their legs checked and prayed for and about 10 people ran over. For the next two hours we laid hands on one another and experienced all kinds of healings, impartations, prophetic words, and encouragements. There was little charismatic hype or emotionalism but lots of good fellowship and smiles from surprised and curious college kids, many of which were attending IV Church for the first time.

And, it was the largest Sunday gathering we've had in Jason and Holly's backyard--sweet!

A Shot of Love

2009-12-02T20:15:00.000-08:00

"Look at the cup my daddy bought me in Las Vegas!"

A friend's ten-year-old niece held up a shot glass, beaming. It had a picture of a donkey and the words, "I left my a** in Las Vegas." (The actual word was printed there.)

I'd only met her father once, but the devestation of over a decade of alcholism had taken its toll; I could see its effects in reddish skin and bloodshot eyes. Though only in his 30s, his liver is already poisoned beyond repair. Doctors say his future is grim.

Despite his drinking, he works hard to provide for his family. He has stayed in a difficult marriage when friends were pressuring him to sign the papers and be "free." At night he reads books to his children and in the morning he goes to work to support them.

I only met his daughter once, but she hugged me right away and was delighted when I took time to play a game with her and her little brother.

To relieve the pain of others through love is sometimes all we can do when faced with a complicated problem. I may not approve of a child receiving a souvenir shot glass, but I can certainly hand it back to her filled with love.

Small Surprises, Big God

2009-11-22T12:18:00.001-08:00

Last night I drank in the sights and sounds of 35+ Isla Vista residents glorifying God. Our prayer and worship time never ceases to be a source of encouragement and life, drawing us deeper into the presence of God and filling us with faith for the night of outreach that lay ahead.

In the past month, new students have been coming by the droves. It is wonderful to see fresh faces, yet I am a loss for how to make a dozen newcomers feel welcome and have their ministry needs met when they come as a group, sit in a group, and afterwards immediately begin talking as a group.

It would be much easier, I thought to myself if those desiring encouragement or prayer just came up and asked for it. This is not easy to do at 19 in a new environment, and I struggle to make myself and my gifts available to those unfamiliar with our church culture.

Afterwards, when a particularly rowdy night on Del Playa had come to a close, I lingered on the front porch, waiting for God to move.

Suddenly, one of the new girls, a freshman, leaves her group of friends, walks over, and strikes up a conversation. I was able to listen and encourage her. It was great.

How refreshing, faith-building and ironic for this to happen only hours after I had thought it in my heart. I practically danced home under a diamond sky, rejoicing all the way.

Pierced But Not Crushed

2009-11-12T23:20:00.000-08:00

Her words came slowly, methodically. Calculated with lethal precision to inflict the greatest amount of pain possible.

"He told me he wouldn’t date you because you’re too ugly. Now that I’ve met you, I can see that he’s right.”

The verbal knife to the gut left me speechless.

She was 42, earned a six-figure income, and was the [recent] ex-girlfriend of the buddy I had come to visit. If looks could kill, I would be writing this post from heaven.

Though my 11-year friendship with the man in question was strictly platonic, jealously demands an object and I became convenient prey.

My buddy made a sarcastic comment about her "not being very nice." Avoiding eye contact with us both, he became intent on a project lying unfinished at his feet. He knew she was capable of worse.

And he was afraid.

Anger is cruel and fury overwhelming, but who can stand before jealousy? (Proverbs 27:4)

With arms crossed and eyes blazing, she emitted a force beyond mere flesh and blood. Flashbacks from my past came to me without invitation—a shy girl in a new school, betrayal by my best friend, degrading comments from boys in my junior high.

Part of me looked at her and loved her. The other part was ready to rip her to shreds.

Were it not for the lamb of God, silent before His accusers, I would have repaid evil for evil. If the Spirit had not granted me self-control, I would have unleashed the pain of past rejections in a litany of my own verbal daggers. If not for the love of my Father who has freed me and affirmed me and taught me a new way of living, I would have added to this woman's broken life while further wounding mine.

But thanks be to God, he gives us the victory through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Jesus Burgers Makes the Front Page

2009-11-09T23:53:00.000-08:00

Click here to see the recent Jesus Burgers article on the front page of Westmont's newspaper "The Horizon." (Go, Warriors!)

Pot or Not?

2009-11-09T23:29:00.000-08:00

On Halloween night I met a believer named Greg who is intelligent, passionate, and a good conversationalist. He is involved in a lot of creative endeavors and uses his gifting to serve the body of Christ.

He also happens to smoke pot.

This confession--and his explanation--took me by surprise. I listened, amused, as he went on to point out its benefits to artists, musicians and other creative types.

I was more than skeptical--for good reason. After working at a drug rehab and knowing four people who are bi-polar after years of marijuana use, I am wholly unimpressed with even the most eloquent pro-pot rhetoric.

"Don't get me wrong" Greg says, "I'm totally against being a pothead as a lifestyle." He went on to illustrate his philosophy of smoking--in moderation--as part of the creative process.

"Pot helps my analytical brain take a back seat so my creative side can come out. My whole company is based on an idea I got when I was high. Besides, I don't smoke socially and I'm always careful to have weeks where I don't smoke at all."

"Doesn't pot seem like a temporary and unhealthy shortcut?" I said. "What if God wants us to access our creative side by quieting ourselves in his presence, waiting on him, and inviting the Holy Spirit to anoint us, chemical-free?"

He shrugged. I gave him my you-really-don't-expect-me-to-believe-what -you're-telling-me look, raised eyebrows and all. This was starting to get interesting.

So, do you have a dealer that you use?" The idea of a Jesus-loving Christian justifying a drug deal--no matter how small--seemed ludicrous. Greg explained that his marijuana card had expired (which he admitted was "ridiculously easy" to obtain) and he now buys his small supply from a relative who grows for the dispensaries. Bingo! I gently pointed out the "obey the laws of the land" passage from Romans 13. A hint of sheepishness crept into his voice...

Our conversation eventually moved on and I spoke no more of the little green herb and his unusual philosophy thereof. But the seeds I planted had taken root in fertile ground.

Later that night Greg prayed this prayer: God, if I don't need pot to be creative, please give me a good idea without it.

Several minutes later he discovered an important solution to the creative project he'd been working for months to complete. Prayer answered.

He emailed me today to report that he is now marijuana-free, even sending pictures of a certain herb swirling to its watery death.

Lessons of the Heart

2009-11-06T19:34:00.000-08:00

"Derika, I DON'T CARE!"

It was a pronouncement not just on dating (the topic of discussion) but on her whole future.

I searched her fiery eyes, longing to see the tenderness I knew lay beneath the hardened exterior. My answer tiptoed in, softly, gently; words of truth in love given by God in the moment.

"When are you going start?"

Gaze dropping, she relinquished her anger without a fight. The question hung in the air, weighty and full. "Do you know why I don't care?" she finally said.

I knew.

"Because," I said, "it hurts too much."

Nodding, she challenged me with her eyes to deny it. But I wasn't just answering her question, I was stating the truth as I had known it too. Caring--really caring--for anything or anyone can be one of the most painful things a human being can ever do. And the most rewarding. But often just painful.

Sometimes, the most hard-hearted, distant people are simply the compassionate, empathetic ones who became that way to survive.

Look them in the eye. Speak softly and kindly without taking offense. Journey as far as you can past the bars and gates and walls into the deep part of their heart that is still soft and warm. And there, in the vulnerability and depth of the encounter, reach out your hand, take hold of theirs, and slowly, lovingly, purposefully, lead them to Jesus.

Faith Like A Child

2009-11-02T22:36:00.000-08:00

Last night our little church was spread out throughout our pastor's home in Isla Vista, enjoying our regular Sunday evening meal together as the family of God. Jason and Holly's son Samuel, almost five, was giving me extra attention in honor of my recent birthday and I relished the hugs. He even brought up the fact that we used to be neighbors--it's been well over a year so I was touched that he remembered.

After finishing my meal I sat down in the living room to chat with a friend. Samuel appeared, came over to us and, to my delight, allowed me to draw him into my lap without wriggling away.

"Andy really needs love right now," he told me.

I cocked my head to the side, considering his serious tone. "How do you know?" I asked.

"He's out back... and he has a sad face." His sensitivity and compassion for the college student touched my heart.
"Shall we go pray for him?" I asked. Samuel shook his head, blond waves tossing, and explained that others had already gone to help.

I searched his sweet face, so pure and beautiful; so precious. "Would you like to pray for him right here, just me and you?"

Bingo! With a joyful bobbing of the head Samuel scooted out of my lap, prostrating himself on the floor with knees bent, hands solemnly clasped and nose to the floor. I mimicked his position, smiling to myself as we paused to intercede, foreheads mingled, right in the center of a busy living room.

"Would you like to go first?" I asked.

"No, you" he said shyly. Halfway into my simple prayer his head popped up and he interjected a reminder. "Pray for more love." And so I did.

When it was his turn, Samuel made a quick petition on Andy's behalf and ended with a firm "Amen." I lifted him into my arms again, telling him how proud I was.

Thank you, Lord, for giving IV Church these precious children.

Picture This: Halloween 2009

2009-11-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

How we start every night at Jesus Burgers: worshipping
our King and interceding for Isla Vista. Glory!

A collage of Scripture, art and prophetic declarations from
the week of 24/7 prayer leading up to Halloween.
.

Our ministry house at 6686 Del Playa Drive:
A true light in the darkness for IV and beyond.

Partiers wait in line to get a free hamburger.

Saints praising Jesus with "Revelation Song" as crowds
flood the streets for the weekend of revelry.

Partiers around the bonfire and hanging out in the front yard,
some dressed in costumes, others barely dressed.

Questions Without Answers

2009-10-29T22:03:00.000-07:00

I look at a college student I know, young and bright, with a heart of gold and an authentic love for Jesus. He confesses openly that although he knows God and wants to do what is right, he also wants to "make the most" of his college years by embracing the night life of his sin-soaked party school. Some weekends I see him with the body, hands lifted high in praise. Others I don't see him at all. His is a heart divided. How can a bad tree bear good fruit?

I see another man who grew up in a God-fearing home, spends time with God on his own initiative, is knowledgable of the Scriptures and faithful in prayer. At night he goes to parties, drinking alcohol, befriending drunks and drawing the attention of non-Christian women. His closest group of friends includes a known thief, a con artist, and some of the more immature and arrogant people I've seen. Church leadership condemns him as carnal, a hypocrite, even a false prophet; others applaud his missional focus. Is he a sinner or a saint?

I look at a talented athlete I know who is facing prison for crimes he committed before I knew him and before he began seriously pursuing his faith. They are heinous crimes, the kind that get you beat up in prison and inspire angry blog comments with names I can't use in print. I look inside my heart and in the Word and try to determine the correct "Christian response" to such evil. Or is it tragedy?

I see another man, convicted of a capital offense so severe that the whole town cries out for the death penalty. The man is innocent but he falls victim to the day's political agenda. Guards torture him with blows they would not inflict on a rabid dog. The man's response is as shocking as the injustice. Instead of appealing his case, he extends mercy to the guilty parties, offering forgiveness they did not seek. Is his reaction laudable or grossly inappropriate?

I look at an artist I know who has preached the gospel on six continents, healed the sick and worshipped God when it was neither convenient nor familiar. Today, he is putting his creative talents and limitless motivation into starting his own business in a new city. He does not speak of ministry anymore, practices an openly homosexual lifestyle and dodges attemps at communication from believing friends. He still acknowledges that Jesus is Messiah but has chosen to pursue his own desires. Will he ever return to his first love?

A Spiritual Journey

2009-10-28T09:27:00.000-07:00

"So what do you do after you put your faith in Jesus?"

I was standing in the burger line with an acquaintance I had met last spring. Honestly, I never expected him to be interested in a personal relationship with Jesus. He had lived with Hare Krishna monks on the East Coast, attended Burning Man, experimented with psychedelic drugs, and diligently studied the precepts and practices of Eastern religion. After years of spirituality, he ended up in front of the Jesus Burgers house one cold Saturday night.

He had come back again and again each weekend, offended by any talk of the gospel but enthusiastic about sharing his music, life and spiritual experiences. After the school year ended, he left town for the summer and that was that. Or so I thought.

His first Saturday back this fall he told my friend that he was interested in the exploring the teachings of Christ--and wanted to come to Sunday services. All of this with no prompting from any of us (except the Holy Spirit, of course). O me of little faith!

Six days had passed since his first visit to IV Church when he asked me the question above. In that short time he'd already read numerous Scriptures out of the New Testament and was brimming with questions.

"I'm so accustomed to Eastern spiritual disciplines where you are continually working to improve yourself. Can you even become a 'better' Christian after the initial part where you simply believe?"

"Well," I said, "the Bible describes an inward transformation that happens when we put our faith in Christ. We live out this new life of faith through our actions, growing in maturity and intimacy with him, learning more of his Word and becoming like him in our thoughts, attitudes and actions."

He listened intently, asking more questions and seeking with a genuine curiosity [yearning?] to know and understand. Pray for this man, that he would be granted the gift of repentance leading to salvation.

Jesus Burgers Makes the News

2009-10-19T10:51:00.000-07:00

UCSB newspaper The Bottom Line (a newer alternative to The Daily Nexus) interviewed Jason Lomelino and me for a feature article on Jesus Burgers. Check out the online edition here.

A Cord of Three Strands

2009-10-11T11:50:00.000-07:00

He walked into the prayer shed with the weight of the world on his shoulders, flopping onto the couch without apology. Our worship time had just concluded and the room was mostly empty, the people of God now scattered throughout the front yard grilling hamburgers and greeting friends.

I stole a glance in his direction, making a mental note to offer prayer later on. My young friend and I were praying about a challenge in my life and as we said 'Amen' I knew he had been listening. Striding across the room, he pulled up a chair. Come to find out he had the same heart, the same calling and the same need for enouragement.

As I sat in the presence of these two students, their love for Jesus and their deep desire to live for him was evident. Faces brightened around the circle as we expressed our passion and found refuge in mutual understanding, shared vision, and corporate hope. They went home uplifted, encouaged, and filled with faith.

Cinching up my jacket, I stepped out into the cold, ready for whatever the night had in store. Setbacks in my journey had been addressed in love and my unsteady ship drawn back on course again.

How deeply precious is the body of Christ.

Jesus Burgers Testimonies: Part I

2009-10-06T19:57:00.000-07:00

His name was Philly and he was refreshingly sober. As a self-proclaimed intellectual who had no belief in God, he was also beautifully genuine; humble even. He had been to Jesus Burgers before though his friend had not.

"These people care about you--they really listen to what you have to say."

Joy rose inside of me, lifting me to a kingdom-place that made the darkness of IV fade to light. How I cherished that compliment!

Is listening from the heart a forgotten key to effective evangelism? (And effective love?) Philly admitted to having great difficulty believing anything he couldn't process through his head. Even so, it was ultimately his heart that had found refuge amongst God's people. It was love that made months-old spiritual dialogue so memorable.

He is not so far from God as he might think.

In the words of Blaise Pascal, "The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing."

Jesus Burgers Are Back

2009-10-01T10:48:00.000-07:00

Check out my guest post on the Isla Vista School of Discipleship (IVSOD) blog:

A Former IV Resident Shares His Story

2009-09-27T09:42:00.000-07:00

Last night I met a man who had lived in my apartment complex for five years in the late 90s. He had always vowed "I will never live in Isla Vista." And then he went and married a girl who did.

Since his housing in Santa Barbara consisted of a tiny room and hers a two bedroom apartment, he packed his belongings and stepped into married life as not only an Isla Vista resident, but as property manager of the complex where she and 24 students lived. Talk about a rude awakening.

He recounted stories of being double parked in his own driveway, seeing a couch set on fire in the street outside his window, and the annual "parade of freshmen" that marched past the building like clockwork every weekend at ten o'clock. Later, when he became father of an infant son, the loud parties and night life took on a whole new meaning.

Today, 10 years later, he has three boys and lots of memories. His wife leads Christian ministry on campus and he works in town, coaches T-ball and prays for people in public, among other things.

After seven years of ministry in Isla Vista and an eighth just beginning, I have yet to consider what my life after IV might look like. For now, the new students have descended upon the city once again, and the people of God are praying and believing for great things.

Check back this weekend for a recap of our first Jesus Burgers outreach of the year.

A Cycle of Abuse

2009-09-19T10:12:00.000-07:00

"I forgive him and I want us to go to counseling to make this work."

I listened quietly, letting the hurt and anger come tumbling out in bursts of emotion. With her eye black and swollen and her heart broken, it was a wonder she still had enough courage to speak of such things. Sometimes the weakest women are tough as nails.

Domestic violence and substance abuse go hand in hand, and this episode was no different: two broken people trying to white-knuckle their departure from an enticing powder that promised the world and gave them nothing.

"Don't give me any lectures," she said. "My ex-boyfriend used to beat me and I got help and took all the classes; hell, I even became a teacher at the shelter and taught this stuff to other women too. I know what this is all about."

I winced at her admission and the tragedy that had become a deadly pattern. When faced with the life on the streets or an abusive home, she chose the abuse. At least there she had a roof over her head and the "hope" that after substance abuse treatment her boyfriend could become the wonderful man she always knew him to be.

Or not.

Creation is groaning for the sons and daughers of God to be revealed. The men and women of Isla Vista need our prayers. Will you join us?

Go!

2009-09-03T12:08:00.000-07:00

I've been loving this song of faith by Diane Thiel and Mercy/Vineyard Publishing: If You Say Go (via YouTube) The video clip is actually from the movie End of The Spear, but the lyrics apply to all believers who would heed Christ's call to "go," no matter the sacrifice.

Too Many Giants?

2009-08-21T18:48:00.000-07:00

We went into the land to which you sent us, and it does flow with milk and honey...but the people who live there are powerful...they are stronger than we are. Then Caleb silenced the people before Moses and said "We should go up and take posession of the land, for we can certainly do it." ~Numbers 13 exerpts (NIV) I know someone who thinks it's a waste of time to share the gospel in Isla Vista. He mocks our Jesus Burgers outreach, shaking his head at the hours we spend in prayer and evangelism. The way he sees it, the people in this city don't care--about God, about others, about anything but themselves. He says that I am naive to even try. After I bite my tongue and try to look past the insult, I explain that our outreach is purposely in the midst of the party scene. It is a chance for students to come in off the street, get some [free] food served by friendly people their age, and make some friends. What comes out of that is up to God. I have seen hearts touched, friendships formed, injuries healed, souls saved, and much, much more. But he's not having it. "The people you talk to are drunk, Derika!" he says, hands gesturing emphatically. And he's right about that one. But I don't think God cares how a person first comes to him as long as they come. I guess the giants in our land can seem pretty daunting, but what matters most is whose report you listen to. The last time I checked, the Holy Spirit and God's holy people are alive and well in Isla Vista. Jesus Burgers begins the last Friday in September--35 days and counting! [NOTE: 9/17 - The Jesus Burgers outreach has been moved to Saturdays. See you there!]

Isla Vista's First-ever Ministry School Is Born

2009-08-16T14:49:00.000-07:00

After one successful pilot year, hours of planning by Director Jason Lomelino, and years of prayer, the Isla Vista School of Discipleship is now official! Believers of all ages living in Santa Barbara County are invited to enroll in fall courses. For those of you from outside the area, be sure to check out the IVSOD blog where I will be a contributing editor. View the hot-off-the-virtual-press IVSOD website here, designed by friends at Immersus Media and co-written/edited by yours truly. The Isla Vista School of Discipleship exists to train and equip believers to fulfill the Great Commission. It serves as a missions base centered in Isla Vista, CA, and operates in collaboration with campus ministries, denominations and churches throughout the region. The core values of the school include loving and being loved by God, discipleship in community, and evangelism as a lifestyle.

Diversity of Needs = Diversity of Gifts

2009-07-31T10:22:00.000-07:00

I was parked in front of IV Market last night when the sound of laughter caught my attention. Two homeless men were walking together along the sidewalk with tell-all brown paper bags cradled in their hands. One had an arm around his comrade's shoulders, his stubbly face boasting a grin normally missing from the faces of those who make their home on the streets. As they crossed the street to Anisq O'yo Park, a favorite local hangout, I wondered at the lives they live. When was the last time these men had been sober--I mean really sober? What were their personalities like apart from the silly fog they wandered in most of the day and night? They were about my father's age; did they have a daughter that loved them somewhere? How comforting to know that there are other ministries in Isla Vista committed to the homeless even as we continue our call to reach college students. Thank you, Jesus, for the diverse gifts in your body!

Into All the World

2009-07-27T19:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight at Monday prayer we laid hands on one of our own, commissioning him to the world beyond Isla Vista. He will be studying abroad in Europe for one year. With this step, he leaves behind the familiarity of California and the security of the family of God now surrounding him. The role of Isla Vista Church and the Isla Vista School of Discipleship is to equip and train young believers and then send them out into the world. We long to see students grow into mature disciples marked by a deep, committed love for God and neighbor. Over the years we have sent out hundreds of men and women. Some have left us as graduates entering a new career, some as married husbands and wives, and many as missionaries, both long- and short-term. If they've fellowshipped with us for long, they undoubtedly carry with them the imprint of the unique spirit of Christ in Isla Vista. It is relational, dynamic, compassionate, servant-hearted and prayerful. It believes big enough to contend for a city and small enough to give everything to bless a single soul. By the grace of God, our small community in Isla Vista will do as the saints in Jerusalem did--change the city, the region and the world. To God be the glory.

In Need of Love

2009-07-25T07:45:00.000-07:00

My street in Isla Vista is a main artery into the city. If you follow it towards the beach, you will come to a fence in a vibrant shade of yellow. It boasts a hand-painted red and blue heart and the following words: All you need is love. I pass this bold display each Sunday afternoon on my way to church in the park. Its cheerful colors and universal message make me think of the Beatles and seventies culture and a particularly moving scene between Sean Penn and Dakota Fanning in the film I Am Sam. We do need love, and my generation is desperate to find it. Something as simple as an act of kindness shown to another can open up great doors for the gospel. But it is only in the face of Christ that we can find love that transforms. Through His love, we go from needy, emotional children to mature sons and daughters. Jesus is the fairest of ten thousand, the bright morning star, the good shepherd, our bridegroom and our Immanuel. May receiving and giving his love away be our greatest pursuit.

Casualties of War

2009-07-17T12:30:00.001-07:00

Last week my phone rang off the hook with reports of crisis from across Isla Vista. I tried to offer godly counsel, and I gave what love and wisdom I could, but the undertow of anxiety and fear surrounding these situations threatened to drown me. Loving the people here brings new meaning to “deny yourself and take up your cross.” Every week I have to look into the eyes of those who have had their confidence shattered by divorce, their purity violated through rape, or their character compromised in the search for acceptance. I have to question whether God is really sovereign and whether I believe his heart is truly love. When you live in Isla Vista, you cannot forget that we are children of war. And war means suffering. Indeed, from the moment we take our first breath beyond the womb, God's enemy and ours is opposing the life we represent, the God whose image we bear and whose love we attract in such astounding measure. But truly, it is the suffering of bearing another's burden that unites me with Christ. It anchors me deeper in his grace and brings the humility necessary for cross-bearing. I do not yet "count it all joy" when I suffer, but at least now I am learning what that means.

A Jesus Burgers Connection

2009-07-12T20:20:00.000-07:00

I know a 20-year-old UCSB student [through my work in Santa Barbara] whose career goal includes "making a lot of money whatever way I can." This week he asked me where I live. I paused for a moment, considering my answer with a knowing smile. "Well, actually...I live in Isla Vista." (You have no idea how much joy it brings me to say that.) I explained to him [very matter-of-factly] how I was involved with Isla Vista Church and Jesus Burgers--I even used the word "missionary" for the first time. I come to find out that he lived across the street from our ministry house last year and has come over to eat burgers on many occasions. Looks like God's up to something! Can't wait for our relationship to unfold...

Do I Dare?

2009-07-04T22:07:00.000-07:00

Since I gave my life to Christ (in high school) I have loved missions work. I traveled the US and Europe serving the poor, broken and marginalized and sharing the love of Christ on short-term missionary trips. But it has been many years since I was a high school or college student with spring and summer breaks. Rent in Isla Vista has necessitated the jump from self-employed independence to a standard work week, cubicle and all. Now I consider myself lucky if I can make a trip home to visit family once a year. People are always asking me what I do, and frankly, I don't like how my day job limits who I am. Isn't there something deeper I can say, something truer; an identity that more accurately reflects my passions and commitments? What if, I recently mused, I told people that I am a missionary to Isla Vista? Dare I break the status quo and define myself by what happens after I leave the office? Dare I embrace the title of "missionary" though I receive no compensation for ministry and never travel? Dare I admit to the general population that I identify more with God's work than paperwork? Hmm. I think I just might. At the very least, it would make for an interesting conversation...

Meet Us At The Park

2009-06-29T18:01:00.000-07:00

One of Isla Vista's redemptive gifts is its beautiful parks and beaches that serve a kaleidoscope of people. College students, hippies, homeless, Hispanics—they co-exist here with usually seamless familiarity, caressed by the cool ocean breezes of summertime and reminded of the Creator's handiwork with every bush and flowering tree. On Sunday I was at D.S. Park as we were settling down for our church gathering on the grass. I noted the presence of a certain homeless man I’ve seen near the off-ramp downtown. He has a weathered, stubbly face and a toothless grin that creeps me out just enough to taper my usually indiscriminate heart with a bit of necessary prudence. The old man sat with us 20-somethings as we sang praise songs to God and watched our pastor’s lively toddlers play amongst the picnic blankets. He was still wearing that toothless grin and still giving off a disconcerting vibe, but I was really glad he joined us. The accessibility of our summer venue allowed this man to have a glimpse of God's kingdom in Isla Vista. Praise the Lord for a "church" without walls and a kingdom without borders.

Jesus Burgers: The Finale

2009-05-30T19:40:00.000-07:00

My friend Tamara and I were deep in conversation when a semi-intoxicated partier came and stood right next to us. It was a little awkward, so we stopped and turned our attention to him, introducing himself as he devoured his Jesus Burger. His name was Steven, and I engaged him about the gospel right away. He told me that he was gay and that organized religion angered him because of things like Prop. 8 (the CA amendment to ban gay marriage). I explained why works-based righteousness isn't possible and taught him about humanity's state of sin and the need for forgiveness through Christ. Unfortunately, I was getting nowhere fast. I changed gears. "Would you let me pray for you? We can see if God will give me a word or a picture that will bless you." He agreed, his attitude shifting, and I took about a minute to concentrate on hearing God. Then-- "I saw a picture of you trying to shield yourself from God," I said. "I believe he wants you to know that he is completely trustworthy. As you open yourself up more and more to him--not to organized religion or religious rules--but to him alone, you will find him worthy of that trust. Instead of being vulnerable, you will be secure in his acceptance. God is gentle and patient, and he is willing to earn your trust if you will only give him a chance. He is a Father and longs to know you as his son." Steven listened intently. I could sense his intellect (and pride) taking a back seat as his heart opened. "I have to go now," he said when I had finished, "but I want to say 'thank you' for what you said to me. I am going to give you a hug." Grinning, I extended my arms and said my goodbye--to Steven, and, in my heart, to the 2008-09 school year.

Evidence of Mercy

2009-05-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

How many drug dealers have you known in your lifetime? How many thieves? How many gang members and pornographers can you remember? How man convicted felons? Murderers? Surely these terms paint a picture in our minds of a certain kind of person. Perhaps they are of a certain age, a certain race, or have a certain way of dressing. Maybe you picture them with a hardness in their face or a dark cruelty in their eyes. Perhaps in your mind they look like the criminals we see on prime time television or the big screen. In Isla Vista, they look just like everyone else. The sarcastic kid from chemistry class, the upstairs neighbor lounging on the balcony, the man enjoying a cigarette at the park. Lawlessness is a condition of the human soul apart from Christ, and many in this city have sowed to the sinful nature and reaped the fruit of destruction. But--God is mighty to save. And oh, how rich is his redemption! Behold, Isla Vista, he makes all things new: beloved daughter, honored son, favored child. No sin is too great that Christ's redemption is not greater still. We are the evidence of mercy.

Science vs. God--Isla Vista Style

2009-05-10T20:19:00.000-07:00

At the end of the night I walked out into the street and ended up talking to Jean Philippe from France. He was really open and had great English, so I asked him all kinds of questions about his country, his experience in ours (he was a 26 and a scientist), and France's view on America. I asked him about his beliefs and he told me he was an atheist, to which I promptly replied that I didn't believe in atheists. (Once I gave him a definition of the English word "agnostic," he agreed that he was mistaken and he was an indeed an agnostic.) I offered to pray and ask for God to reveal himself, and when he agreed, we sat down around the now-cold bonfire. I can't really tell you what I prayed, but by the time I got to the "Amen" three others had joined us around the fire. They had heard the whole thing and were watching quietly, respectful of the moment. Another Frenchman, Alexandre, stood up and came over to me. "Will you tell me my future too?" he said urgently. I have no idea what part of my prayer for Jean Philippe had impacted him so strongly, but he was persistent--and inebriated. "Will you tell me my future too?" he asked again. I was surprised. An onlooker jumped in: "She's not a psychic, dude." I explained to Alexandre that I serve Christ and that I was happy to pray for him though I could not be sure what, if anything, God would reveal--about his future or otherwise. We sat down on the curb along DP and I prayed, saw a picture, described it to him, told him what I thought it meant, and waited for his resonse. "That is exactly what a wise man from India said to me," he replied. "You are one of many people that has been telling me the same thing. I know what I have to do." Evidently Alexandre's career as a scientist had taken him to many countries. He said that my prayer was "crazy accurate" and that he now was certain what direction he had to go. I still have no idea what I said or prayed for either of those men, but I believe God touched them. For that I rejoice!

Party's Over

2009-05-09T20:47:00.000-07:00

It was the first commercial keg refrigerator I had ever seen. And it was sitting in the dining room. A row of stoned roommates and friends sat nearby, mesmerized by the flashing images on the shiny new LCD mounted high on the living room wall. A poster for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas adorned one wall, strangely appropriate for the environment. I had to step over a three feet wide, six inch deep mass of video came control cords to get a tour of the bedroom. A modest-sized room boasted two sets of old mattresses sitting directly on the floor, one without any sheets, and a sleeping bag unrolled along the wall. A single glass coffee table was the only elevated surface in the room, and it boasted an inhaler sitting next to a glass ash tray overflowing with cigarette butts. Believe it or not, the five guys living in the apartment pay $600 each to share two bedrooms. (I'll let you do the math.) Situated literally a stone's throw to campus in one direction and across the street from the beach, no one seems to mind the sqalor. At first glance, it's a typical party house--you know, young guys "living it up." What a casual observer doesn't know is that in the last month two partiers have almost overdosed and died there. Without the swift actions of a sober friend with CPR training, they would not have lived to see their 21st birthday. Tragically, a young woman two streets over had no such luck. She died Thursday at the age of 20. Lord, have mercy on our city.

Like Oil and Water

2009-04-25T02:38:00.000-07:00

Tonight I got shot. Yeah, it was just an airsoft rifle (I'm guessing) and I was wearing a puffy down jacket, but when you're walking home alone at two in the morning, it's a bit unsettling. Tonight my friend got shot. At the exact same corner, about six hours before--except when it happened to him I feared for the prankster's life. Tonight I saw a male student with his girlfriend's vomit splattered across his button-down dress shirt. I saw two girls and one guy carry bottles of hard liquor into an apartment bathroom and lock the door. I saw a student smoking a joint in the front yard of our ministry house (and politely asked him to move onto the sidewalk). But that wasn't all I saw. I also saw men and women who love God and walk in righteousness. I saw worshippers, servants, peacemakers and friends. I saw the love of Christ extended in conversations, gifts of hospitality, and sincere embraces. Tonight I saw light freely mixing with darkness, confident and unafraid, open and inviting, flashing glory in shadowed places. Tonight I was moved once again to press on in prayer--for my community, for my generation, for the lost. Praise the LORD, all you servants of the LORD who minister by night in the house of the LORD. --Psalms 134:1 (NIV)

The Prayer of the Desperate

2009-04-02T21:26:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I saw the movie Luther, a Hollywood version of the life of the great Reformer. Despite the understandable inaccuracies, I liked the movie very much. Two scenes in particular remain vivid in my mind. In the first, a struggling young Martin receives advice from his spiritual mentor. Priest: Martin, what is it you seek? Luther: A merciful God: A God whom I can love. A God who loves me. Priest: Then look to Christ. Bind yourself to Christ and you will know God's love. Say to Him,"I'm yours. Save me. I am yours. Save me." Later, spiritual warfare from without and fears from within drive Luther to a place of confusion and anguish. We see him prostrate before the altar, arms outstretched on either side, knuckles white as he clings to a wooden cross. "I am yours. Save me. I am yours. Save me." He cries out again and again, desperate for God to do what he cannot. Come to find out, Martin's little prayer wasn't simply a line in the script. Last week I was reading Psalm 119 and found the exact words in verse 94. Somehow it meant a great deal to me to know that this plea came right out of the Scriptures. When ministry in Isla Vista presents me with wounds I cannot heal, bondage I cannot break, and tragedy I cannot explain, I too groan in anguish and desperation. In these times, one prayer remains. I am yours, save me.

Off the Beaten Path

2009-03-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

With a population of over 18,000 residents, Isla Vista is one of the most densely populated square miles west of the Mississippi River. Though we're packed in pretty closely, our community is a far cry from the slums of America's inner cities. Isla Vista borders the sparkling Pacific Ocean, is populated by numerous parks, and boasts beautiful trees and flowers that seem to bloom year-round. I make my home at the corner of the city, surrounded on three sides by a Eucalyptus grove and two grassy fields. On Saturday morning the gorgeous spring sun lured me outside for a bit of trail exploration in the field across the street. Eventually, the meandering paths led me to this sign:

And all along the way I had the pleasure of admiring these diverse and lovely flowers: Despite streets littered with abandoned red cups and bedrooms that reek of dirty laundry and stale cigarettes, Isla Vista has a beauty all its own.

"For as the soil makes the sprout come up and a garden causes seeds to grow, so the Sovereign LORD will make righteousness and praise spring up before all nations." ~Isaiah 61:11

Turf Wars

2009-03-24T22:56:00.000-07:00

Tonight at around 10:30pm I was sitting in my car on Del Playa Drive when a group of loud, angry college guys emerged from a beachside apartment and spilled out into the empty street. They were yelling back and forth and threatening physical violence with big gestures, chest puffing and loud expletives. The tumult was a sharp contrast to the overall quiet of a weeknight during spring break. Over five minutes of shouting passed with no resolution. Whatever they were feuding about was likely trivial, but alcohol in their veins made winning the dispute seem like the most important thing in the world. Each person was desperate to let his word be the last, to not back down, to show himself a man in front of the group. I could feel the tension rising to a boiling point I was loathe to witness. And then I remembered. Number one: our battle is not against flesh and blood. Number two: Del Playa is God's street now. So, I raised my voice and began to loudly rebuke spirits of violence and pride. I proclaimed peace over their lives and pled the blood of Jesus. I declared that Del Playa Drive belonged to Christ, contending through intercession for Joshua 1 and the manifestation of promises already given. I was confident, full of faith, and resolute. But fear (and doubt) lingered... That is until the group of five immediately split into two and two and one, all stomping away from the feud in their own directions. Scattered like the perfect break on a pool table. Just like that. It still surprises me when prayers are answered right before my eyes. But I love it. And I love that Jesus wins.

Living Out Loud

2009-03-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

A wise man once said, "Don't act Christian, be Christian." A subtle distinction, but an important one. Jesus didn't just act like he was sent on a mission to seek and save the lost. He lived it, prayed it, preached it, and died for it. His whole life testified of the Father as our lives should testify of him. Many years ago I was sharing about my stressful day to a [non-Christian] student I met here in Isla Vista. I got passed over for a job I wanted and was grappling with the disappointment. I concluded that doing temp work for a while could be an opportunity to go from office to office and influence more people for the gospel. "So. . ." he said, trying to understand, "you've given your whole life to Him." Huh? His assessment took me by surprise. I fumbled for fear of sounding spiritually proud. "Well, at least I try to..." I don't remember the rest of the conversation, but I learned an important lesson that day: simply sharing my life with others testifies of God in a way words cannot. Many in our generation view religion/faith/spirituality as a part of life, not the central meaning, method and goal of it. When we seek first His kingdom (Matt. 6:33), it shows (and tells!) non-believers what and who the gospel is all about. For more on the power of testimony, watch this powerful video--then come back and post your feedback. (It's well worth the eight minutes!)

The Woman Folly

2009-03-13T09:10:00.000-07:00

"We had this amazing chemistry--it was the most electrifying connection I've ever had in my whole life." I was hearing the story for the first time, but truly, there is nothing new under the sun (Ecc. 1:9): Christian boy meets beautiful, non-Christian girl, girl feeds boy's ego, boy and girl enjoy an exhilarating romance. Until... Boy and girl realize thrilling sexual encounters and memories from a ski trip and a concert aren't enough; ideologically, spiritually, politically and morally they are completely different people. But oh, the chemistry! How very, very painful it is to be a believer, to know the truth, to see the destruction of sin, and to find yourself walking into it head on. Again and again and again. If sin leads to death (Rom. 6:16), addiction to pleasure is the fast lane on the highway to hell. "In order to keep my flesh happy," he said, "I paid a dear price: I had to deny who I am, cut off my friends, and endure emotional manipulation and abuse." I winced, knowing everything he said was true. "When my mom called crying and asked why I didn't want to talk to her anymore, I was undone." The woman Folly is loud; she is undisciplined and without knowledge. She sits at the door of her house, calling out to those who pass by, who go straight on their way. "Let all who are simple come in here!" she says to those who lack judgment. "Stolen water is sweet; food eaten in secret is delicious!" But little do they know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of the grave. (Prov. 9:13-18)

As the abstinence posters so truthfully say, "There's no condom for the heart."

Snapshots

2009-03-10T08:16:00.000-07:00

Last night David and I sipped chai tea while he entertained me with story after story of his last two years in Santa Bah-bra (think New York accent). His various jobs and "activities" had him cross paths with many of the same characters I've met, and we both laughed heartily as I took note of how different his life was now that he had given up partying. "I need to leave in about 15 minutes" I told him, thinking forward to Daylight Savings and my slow adjustment therof. "Are you pretty tired?" he asked, searching my face. I knew he was looking at my swollen, puffy eyes and faded makeup. "Well, actually" I said, "I look like this because I was crying earlier tonight." I fingered the empty mug and mulled things over for a moment before meeting his questioning gaze. "I was crying because of what you said and prayed at the prayer meeting. I am sorry that you are hurting so much." Now he was the one staring at his mug. I hoped I hadn't made him feel uncomfortable. I waited for his response. "No one's ever cried for me," he said. "Thank you." Images from what I know of David's past flashed through my mind: a teenage orphan living in a group home, a soldier barely surviving the war in Iraq, a college student laying on the asphalt after a motorcycle accident, to name a few. David had endured over a decade of unspeakable loss, heartache and physical suffering. How was it possible that my tears were the first? Later, I replayed the conversation in my head, shock and sadness settling in around my heart. And then I remembered Jesus, weeping before the tomb of Lazarus, looking with compassion upon the multitudes, interceding on Golgotha's hill. Jesus, taking three nails for the sins David would commit and the ones committed against him. Jesus, delivering David from the throes of death in Brooklyn and Baghdad and later blessing him with the gift of repentance. Jesus has cried for David. Surely tears of mourning are turning into songs of joy (Ps. 126:6).

Keepin' It PG

2009-03-08T12:59:00.000-07:00

I was standing on the front porch of our ministry house just after the grill had been shut down for the night. A large crowd was still gathered, some huddled around the fire, others spread out in groups talking and hanging out. All of a sudden, a young couple to my left locked lips in a fairly intense make-out session. They began to draw some attention. For some reason I take delight in addressing these types of situations. I figure that it's our property and our responsibility to dictate the spirit that will dwell there. And a spirit of lust and sexual immorality isn't one of them. I tapped the young man on the shoulder. "Excuse me..." I had to say it a few times, but he finally came up for air and loosened his grip on the slender blond. "You're more than welcome to hang out here," I said in a friendly tone, "but we prefer that you keep it PG." He understood my message and acquiesced immediately, a note of contrition in his voice. I was pleasantly surprised that he took it so well. It is God's will that you be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control his own body in a way tht is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the heathen, who do not know God. ~I Thessalonians 4:3,4

Isla Vista: In Pictures

2009-03-01T20:59:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have never been to Isla Vista (or even if you have), be sure to check out this photo series by Alexa Wan. Not only is she a talented photographer and kingdom-seeker, she is also one of my roommates.

A-ma-zing

2009-02-22T18:39:00.000-08:00

Our time of worship and intercession had just ended when the door of the prayer shed opened and a stranger stepped inside. Dressed in a beanie and a sweatshirt with the hood up, the young man looked as if he'd seen better days. "I have an announcement to make" he told us, the scent of a freshly-smoked cigarette filling the air. "I want to give my life to Jesus." The eight of us stared at him for a moment, and then at each other, bewilderment and joy colliding within us. I stuck out my hand, smiling. "What is your name?" I asked. He introduced himself as Dave, and within minutes, he was standing in the center of the room surrendering his will to God. We stood around him in a tight circle, hands of faith resting firmly on his shoulders, some of us blinking back tears, others beaming. I have known David for less than three days. I can tell you truly, he is a survivor. Originally from Brooklyn, how he ended up here with us is mystery only God could pen. David doesn't have any idea who his father is. He lost his mom at age 13. He has been in a gang, served time in JUV, and lived under the bondage of drugs, alcohol and anger most of his life. As soon as they'd take him, David joined the Marine Corps where he served FOUR tours of duty in Iraq. His best friend died in his arms and then his convoy got blown up. After multiple surgeries and a toolbox of plates and screws in both legs, he lived to see his 21st birthday. Back in the US, life as a civilian was fraught with anxiety attacks, nightmares and daily physical pain. Drugs and alcohol were no longer a sufficient tourniquet for his bleeding heart. "I am tired of living life my own way" David told us that night, a room full of strangers about to become family. It didn't take discernment to see that he was white unto the harvest. We welcomed David into the kingdom with open arms, cheered at his ocean baptism the next day, and praised God when he reported that his physical pain had was getting better--sovereignly healed by the God of the impossible. Amazing.

{Blog Anniversary}

2009-02-19T22:17:00.000-08:00

It has been one year since I began this blog and I am grateful for each of you: my faithful readers and one-time visitors alike. *I invite you all to leave a comment/feedback below. Please include your city and state.* Thank you! Derika

What Love Is

2009-02-14T12:31:00.000-08:00

Love is when you look someone in the eye and tell them that what they did was wrong That you don't agree with their new lifestyle That you think their spouse is cheating on them That their new boyfriend is bad news Because love is willing to risk being misunderstood Rejected or despised Love knows the value of telling it like it is Truth hurts for the moment but a lie hurts for a lifetime And silence can kill a man Love is when you get yelled at by your wife and you take her in your arms make her breakfast in bed write her a note about all the things that make her special Because love reaches beyond self to the other person's pain, anger and fear Love refuses self-preservation When pride shows up at the door love lets humility in through a window Love is when you remember your own failures and give grace as you have received it Love is when you don't keep score Love is reaching out again and again Even when your hand is slapped away Love is mending broken wings, holding broken hearts Grieving over someone else's broken dreams Love is the path of death that leads to life

Eternity In Our Hearts

2009-02-09T19:20:00.000-08:00

Is it possible that the men and women of Isla Vista know that they were made for eternal pleasures [at God's right hand] (Ps. 16)? Perhaps somewhere deep within, an echo of paradise calls to them, wooing them back to a time when the world was new and everything was called "good." A world marked by a God who rejoices over the earth, taking unique delight in mankind, his image-bearers, fashioned by his own hand. But image-bearing alone is not enough to reverse the effects of the fall. Since the beginning, we have tried to recreate a pain-free paradise and suffered the tragic results. The alcohol that once "sparkled in the cup" now "bites like a viper" (Pr. 23). The sweet allure of sexual intimacy has turned "bitter as gall" (Pr. 5:4) At every turn, we are unrelenting in our search for anything or anyone that will meet our deepest needs. And yet, no mere mortal--or man-made experience--can return us to the Eden that once was. So the young and vulerable continue in futility, always grasping for a new way to scratch an age-old itch.

"Fight for us, O God, that we not drift numb and blind and foolish into vain and empty excitements. Life is too short, too precious, too painful to waste on worldly bubbles that burst. Heaven is too great, hell is too horrible, eternity is too long that we should putter around on the porch of eternity." ~John Piper

Jesus Burgers: Liz's Journey

2009-01-31T11:25:00.000-08:00

Her name was Liz and my opening line took her [understandably] by surprise. "We were just talking about prayer--can we pray for you?" I asked as she bit into her hot-off-the-grill Jesus burger. "No" she said, eyes darting back and forth between us as if I had just offered her brussel sprouts. Her boyfriend was arguing with someone behind us, phrases like "hung himself" and "was an alcoholic" provided enough distraction to make things...interesting. I asked Liz what she believed about God and got a one-liner about a "Higher Power" she met through NA (Narcotics Anonymous). My heart jumped with internal glee as I have a particular affinity to folks with addictions. "Yeah, I used to be a crystal meth addict living out of my car" Liz said with that sparklingly refreshing honesty I've grown to love in recovering addicts. I searched her dark eyes, looking for traces of what she had once been. Aside from the black eyeliner and hard edge in her voice, there was nothing to hint that this UCSB student had been to hell and back just a short time ago. When I discovered she'd been sober for six months, I offered my hearty congratulations. It never ceases to amaze me how someone so young has time to use drugs and alcohol, become addicted, realize they're addicted, desire to stop, get counseling or rehab, and become legitimately sober--all before the age of 25. Many, many of the substance abusers I've known don't really face their demons until much later in life. Liz readily identified "spirituality" as the key to a life of recovery, recognizing that simply abstaining from drugs doesn't heal a person on the inside. Smart woman! We shared the gospel and she listened politely, open to a point, though not entirely ready to move with us from Higher Power to Jesus power. When her boyfriend was ready to go, she thanked us, I gave her a hug, and they walked back out into the fray. Pray for Liz, that she would take the next step on her journey of faith.

Eavesdropping

2009-01-28T22:39:00.000-08:00

Recently I overheard a [sober] UCSB student go off on quite a tirade. This sweet, beautiful 20-something suddenly got very animated about "super-religious" people. "My aunt's the biggest hypocrite in the world" she announced loudly, not caring who heard. She refuses to "friend" her nephews on Facebook because they're the religious ones in the family and they get upset by the profanity and drinking splashed across her profile. A co-worker seconded her scathing commentary, citing her own "very religious" older sister as selfish, a bad mother, and generally "crazy." Ouch. I listened with interest, trying to envision the church-going relatives they described. Their condemning ways had certainly left an impression—and not for the good. Perhaps if they had expressed their faith commitment in a more Christlike manner they would not have been so forcefully maligned by their own family. We know that Jesus didn't mince words when it came to sin. But in his case, it was the religious folk that hated him, not the everyday sinner. Christ wasn't afraid of the sinfulness of sin or the depravity of sinners. He expected darkness to be dark and bad trees to bear bad fruit. We can hardly expect non-believers to adhere to a moral code they neither believe nor are empowered to carry out. Let's spur one another on to be the most loving, honorable people our friends and families have ever seen. Only then will they know God's true desire to extend forgiveness and grace instead of judgement.

When Soldiers Come Home

2009-01-24T02:13:00.000-08:00

It's about 2am and only three of us remain around a dwindling bonfire. A lone partier walks up off the streets and asks for Jesus burgers. He's about an hour shy. I reach out my hand and meet Andrew from Ohio, age 22, a sailor in the United States Navy, recently back from a tour to Iraq. He was quite drunk at this point and had gotten separated from his friends and his ride back to Ventura. "Can I have a drink?" he asked. He would have preferred beer but I got him a tall glass of water and waited to see how the night would play out. "I want to thank you for serving our country, " I said, looking into his clear blue eyes and youthful face. "You're fighting a harder fight than us" he replied, to my surprise. I wasn't sure what he was referring to. The economic situation in America? Unemployment? "Trying to convert people to God in a place like this..." he gestured to the crowded streets and then I realized what he meant. I asked if I could pray for him, knowing that he would be gone soon. He agreed, thinking I meant in general, and said, "Sure, pray for me all the time." "No, can I pray for you out loud, right now?" "All right. As long as you don't embarrass me." I had no idea what wounds that simple comment revealed, but I smiled warmly with a "you got it." When I had offered up my simple petition of blessing and protection he pulled me into a grateful embrace. I couldn't help but grin. "You're a stronger person than me," he said into my ear, slurring his words. I told him that God was strong in me just as a posse of four suddenly appeared. The leader of the group was sober (I found out later that he was the "DD"--Designated Driver) and bulging out of his thin white T-shirt with a physique unique to military men. The four of them looked from me to Andrew with intrigue, having just seen us praying. I extended hearty handshakes to each one and we exchanged names. "Are you all in the navy?" I asked, noting the haircuts. Their hesitation spoke volumes. After a moment they nodded, unsure of how I would react. When I thanked them for the sacrifices they'd made for our country and told them how much it meant to me, relief showed on their faces. "Thank you for supporting us" the leader said. "We fight over there so we can have this over here." I winced internally, knowing there was more at stake than a party in Isla Vista, but I just smiled. And so the five of us set off together, them back to their truck and me to my apartment. Andrew hugged me again when we parted ways. I thank God that though I fight for Isla Vista and this man for America, Jesus is fighting for us both.

The Right Answer

2009-01-22T18:30:00.000-08:00

What is your name? Where are you from? Why does a good God allow suffering? Ah, questions. Little “invitations” from people we may not even know. Invitations to offer a part of ourselves, to share the view from the world according to us. And, have you ever noticed that it is hard to leave a question unanswered? Somehow once it has been posed, it can't really be taken back. An unanswered question hangs there in the air, waiting, no--straining--to be united with its answer. In Isla Vista, answering the wrong questions can snuff out effective evangelism faster than a thump on the head. Not because God doesn't honor sincere searching (he certainly does) but because a vast majority of the time, the questions people ask are coming straight from their heads. (Some of you are thinking: “Duh...they're students. Where else would questions come from?”) And that's where this little snippet from Paul's letter to the Romans comes into play: “If you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” A careful search of scripture reveals that believing, saving faith comes not from the mind, but from the heart. As long as I entertain a question-and-answer session with someone, (What about the dinosaurs? How can there only be one way to heaven?, etc.) I will forever remain in the realm of the mind. (And believe me, you can get really lost in there). And if I also believe that “knowledge puffs up, but love builds up” I will begin to see pride speaking when I open a door for inebriated 19 year-olds to wax eloquent about topics they honestly know very little about. Once I really got this, it changed everything about the way I share the gospel. Now, I try to listen with my head and my heart, deflecting certain questions without being impolite. (Which is tricky—those darn questions are so enticing to answer straight on!) I try and listen for what is left unspoken, the cries of fear and confusion and curiosity coming from the same person whose head is posing reasonable inquiries about world religions and what happened to the dinosaurs but whose heart really longs to know more personal truths. Who am I? Do I matter? Where was God when I got my heart broken? It is the Answer to these questions that will set a soul free.

My Second Chance

2009-01-10T02:15:00.000-08:00

Do you ever feel as if you've let God down? I do--especially when it comes to relationships. And there was a particular person where I felt it more than usual. Isla Vista will do that to you, you know--one minute you have all these good intentions to love and serve and give and make a difference by your life lived out amongst the people. Then the next moment the pressures of obligations outside of IV and the undertow of the battle within catch up to you and it seems as if the city and its residents are lost for good. Tonight, I got another chance. You see, there was this certain person in my life. Attractive, popular, talented--everything that the youth of Isla Vista esteem and many of their Christian peers secretly covet. I was intimidated by these outward qualities, disregarding real fears, real weaknesses, and real wounds that lay beneath the surface. I could have offered my heart, my friendship, my support and my advice. Instead, I chose not to put myself on the line. I stayed in my comfort zone so I wouldn't be rejected. After all, weren't they in a whole other league? Yes, I was older, wiser and more stable, but they seemed content to live life their way and so I went on with mine. How wrong I was. But how gracious God is. Tonight, this person came to Jesus Burgers looking for me after months of no communication. Desperate and vulnerable, yet determined, a pair of frightened eyes called out to me, pleading for my help. Real help--like call 9-1-1 I'm dying, save me I'm drowning type of help. And I gave it, right then and there and with love and prayer and a commitment of future support. This is what I'm made for, and now our relationship can be what God desires. How grateful I am for a second chance. May I never again allow a person's outer qualities to keep me from ministering to inner needs.

Beyond the Fog

2008-12-31T21:24:00.000-08:00

It is New Year's Eve in Isla Vista and a heavy fog has crept in, blanketing the city with watery mist, shutting us in to a world without stars or horizons or a view of anything else beyond our driveways. My upstairs apartment is five blocks from the coastline and I can hear the fog horn from my bedroom. It is a haunting sound, deep and full, calling into the night every fifteen to twenty seconds, hour by hour. When I listen for it, the horn demands my attention, indeed, it is the only thing I hear. At other times, I am so focused elsewhere that the sound fades into nothing as if it wasn't really there. For many residents of Isla Vista, life is much like this fog. It is hard—sometimes impossible--to see very far ahead, even when straining every limb. The voice of God is sounding through the fog of the world, strong and clear, and yet for all its persistence and clarity, it too fades in the ears of those will not hear. Not very long from now, this year will be over; gone like a mist. All of the memories and accomplishments, all of the setbacks and fears, all of the faces, places and adventures forever sealed in the annuals of time. For thousands of the college students in my city, 2008 will go down in their personal history books as a year of life, love, and learning. A year of surfing with friends and late-night Starbucks runs. A year of romantic escapades and roommate drama and beer-pong on the lawn and all the thrills and drills of university life. There are some in this city who have managed to find increasing clarity, despite the hazy surroundings. For them, the fog is clearing away with every sunrise. Why? Because one of the hundreds of passionate, faithful believers in their dormitory, classroom or apartment has sounded a fog horn in their lives. Gave them hope of a way out of the maze, daze and haze of life in Isla Vista, showed them the reality of a different kingdom, offered them a gospel of real love. The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned. --Isaiah 9:2 I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you. --Isaiah 44:22

Christmas Reflections

2008-12-22T21:19:00.000-08:00

On a crisp Saturday morning my friend and I took our favorite golden retriever for a long walk on the beach here in Isla Vista. The tide was low and we enjoyed poking sea anemones, discovering seashells and watching the largest gathering of pelicans I have ever seen. With the winter sun shining with all its might it was almost painful to look across the water, so bright were the flashes dancing on each wave. With the city of Isla Vista all but empty for Christmas break, a beautiful peace had settled over land and sea. Eventually we took the stairs back up to Del Playa Drive, the [in]famous destination of party-goers near and far. It now stretched out before us unusually wide and spare, void of the hundreds of cars usually packed like sardines against dirty curbs. Void also of the beach cruisers, skateboards, and 20-somethings usually filling it from dawn till dusk and late into the night. My friend, an alum of UCSB, lived in Isla Vista as a student but never embraced the party scene. "And I definitely never wanted to live on Del Playa" he told me. "Even though it was near the ocean, it always seemed so dirty to me." And sadly, he's right. We turned down a narrow corridor to the cliff-side deck of a party house I had visited a few weeks before. A faded couch had been stationed outside the patio door and precipice below was dotted with discarded beer cups. The lingering smell of cigarettes clung to the air that should have been fresh and a broken window hinted at wild after-parties with an endless tap. In a few weeks, the residents of the house will return, bringing with them more nights of bongs and beer and whittling away their college years in a predictable kaleidoscope of Del Playa decadence. And even still, the Lord knows--each roommate and visitor and stranger and friend--all of their histories are written in his book, all of their faces etched in his hands. He knows the ones who, like my friend, will tire of the party lifestyle and cry out for something more. He will send his church to demonstrate real love and to open their eyes to true friendships and abundant life. He will invite them to know his son and he will heal all of their broken places. In faith I proclaim good tidings of great joy in this city. Christ is born, a savior for all mankind. A savior for Isla Vista.

Favor

2008-12-06T01:23:00.001-08:00

We didn't officially serve Jesus burgers on Friday after our regular worship and prayer time. A tight circle was gathered around the bonfire on an extremely cold night as some new homeless friends shared their music on guitars and djembes. Walking home from what he later described as an "unsatisfying night," one young partier happened to pass by and be drawn in by the music. I was just about to catch a ride home early (I usually walk and usually stay a few hours later) when I saw him sitting off to the side, watching and listening. I was drawn to go talk to him, so I walked up introduced myself. Long story short, I had a fair bit in common with "Murph" from Houston. For one, his roommate attends our little church. He played a year of basketball for UCSB. He is the oldest of three with two younger sisters. And so on. We had a great talk about God though he assured me that his roommate had already tried to convert him and he "wasn't into it." It was refreshing to speak with a Texan who had grown up in the church and admitted that he couldn't bring himself to vote "No" on Prop. 8 (California's ban on gay marriage) even though he has become more liberal since going out into the world. After a dynamic chat, a glass of water and a few trips to our restroom, Murph decided to play some guitar before retiring for the night. I listened eagerly, and was very impressed by both his talent and passion. He played a song about the pain of breaking up with someone he loved. My heart went out to him. At 20 years old, his lifestyle of heavy partying would bring him more relational pain than that if he continued living without Christ. Towards the end of the night one of Murph's friends appeared who remembered me from earlier in the year (he and his friend had been beaten up one night right in front of our house--see my post from March). He gave me a huge hug, exclaiming with joy, "This is the girl from Jesus burgers!" "I know" Murph replied, "That's where I met her tonight! She's like an original founder of the Jesus Foundation there." It felt really good to be connected with Jesus and recevied with enthusiasm by those I had preached the gospel to. I laughed as Drew embraced me again. Murph leaned towards his ear and said "and she's as old as sh*t!" A girl nearby blanched white and scolded him as I laughed again, nodding. At age 20, I thought 28 was pretty old, too!

A Name From Above

2008-11-22T10:34:00.000-08:00

I was applying ketchup and mustard to the hamburger buns as Scott flipped burgers on the grill and the intermittent partier cut to the front of the line looking for a handout without the wait. As the hot-off-the-grill patties were matched with their respective buns, the line shifted forward in spurts. I looked up to the half-dozen new faces now gathered before me and posed a direct but open-ended question. “What do you guys think about Jesus?” A few in the crowd facetiously expressed their "love" in honor of the hamburgers he had provided. Someone threw out a “Jesus is my homeboy” and yet another announced his 12 years of Catholic school. One girl, a scantily clad blond suffering from the effects of too much alcohol added her view: “I don’t believe in God.” Her friend "shushed" her, nudging the girl’s arm disapprovingly for announcing such a thing in the presence of Christians who were serving her free food. “No, it’s okay” I cut in. "I appreciate the honesty." “I don’t believe in God because I haven’t seen enough truth in the world so far in my life," she explained. "And there’s so much suffering and negativity.” Nods of respect and understanding peppered the crowd. The line advanced and she moved to the spot directly in front of me. I introduced myself and she told me her name was Katherine. “Do you know what your name means?” I asked her. When she shook her head, I told her that it means “pure.” I stared intently into her eyes, willing that her spirit would hear and live. "I believe that God has made you with a pure heart. But your heart is very sensitive and it has been wounded by the things you have seen and experienced. But that sensitivity is a good thing and it's from God--he created you that way and he can heal all of the broken places." Speechless, she turned her head away in shame. "My name means pure but I'm impure" she said brokenly. I willed her to listen and believe. "Katherine, God doesn't just see what you do, but what he created you to be. He gave you that name as a sign of what you could become." Eyes wide, she reeled back, moved in her spirit. "Do you hear what she just said?" she asked her friends. Whipping out her cell phone, she begged for my number. I was pleased to oblige. Pray that Katherine responds to God's call and enters into her destiny. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."

Of A Different Kingdom

2008-11-15T11:19:00.000-08:00

Last night at our outreach a gregarious transfer student arrived on site just as my merry Armenian friends were teaching us some folk dance on the patio. He asked if any of us danced ballroom. Four of my friends piped up in unison, “She does!” pointing gleefully in my direction. They guy sidled up to me, threw a limb around my shoulders and attempted to impress me with his charms. He was clearly intoxicated, but articulate and talkative. I humored him, and we had a lively chat. As his sober friend came along to escort him back to campus, I told him that I'd love to see him again when he was sober. His pride a bit wounded, he asked me what I acted like when I was drunk. “I haven't been drunk” I told him. “No, I'm not saying you are drunk” he assured me. “What are you like when you're drunk?” “I haven't been drunk” I said again, just as clearly as before. It took some repetition before he finally registered that my sobriety that evening was indicative of my history. “Well, why not?” he asked, clearly puzzled. I shrugged easily, smiling as some guys from my church walked by, chuckling to themselves knowingly. I gave the young man the best answer I could fit into a single sentence: “I've never needed to be.” He was incredulous. “Do you mean to tell me that you're always joyful and high on life?” Au contraire. I explained to him that wasn't the case. “Then what do you do when you're not?” he wanted to know, straining to understand a philosophy of life that fell outside the bounds of hedonism. Poor guy. I pray that I will see him again and that in the mean time, he will consider the possibiity of a better way to live. "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of rightouesness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." -Romans 14:17

Jesus Burgers: A Sign By Fire

2008-10-18T02:45:00.001-07:00

Early on in the night I found a seat around the fire pit and just behind the barbeque. A tallish blonde took a seat nearby and we started up a conversation while he enjoyed his food. His name was Curtis, and he was a student living in IV, raised in a coastal town in Marin County, and training in the Army ROTC. When I asked him if he had any spiritual beliefs, he began expounding on a philosophy of cause and effect. Relationships, conversations, the universe, life--you name it and he had a place for it in his cause and effect universe. I presented the gospel to him in a cause and effect format that he could understand, but he wasn't listening very closely. I probed a little deeper and and uncovered four years of Catholic school and a deep wound he carried from a time in his life when God "didn't do anything" when Curtis needed him most. So there it was--he was wounded--in his mind by God himself. No wonder his "religion" of cause and effect discounted a personal creator! "If the personal, loving God I'm telling you about is real," I said, "what would he need to do to prove himself to you in a way that you would receive him?" "He would need to show me--". BOOM! An explosion of sound and flame erupted from the fire pit, sending the crowd screaming and those nearby leaping out of its path. Curtis and I were the two closest to the fire--about four feet away. We were certainly startled, but not burned. I turned my eyes from the fire, now burning normally, and looked at Curtis intently. "...a sign," he finished. "God would need to show me a sign." Was he blind? Gesturing to the fire pit, I raised my eyebrows. "I have been serving burgers at this BBQ for seven years and that is the first time I have ever seen a fire do that. I don't know, Curtis, that just might be your sign!" Join me in praying that this young man would go beyond skepticism to seek the face of our God who is a consuming fire.

A Different Kind of Ecstasy

2008-10-11T07:16:00.000-07:00

So last night I was standing in the driveway when I was approached by two students desperately needing a glass of water. I readily agreed to help, leading them into the first floor of the ministry house. One of the young men, a tall, slim Indian fellow, had a ghastly look on his face. His spokesman, an easy-going surfer with carefree blonde locks, filled me in: "We just tried ecstasy for the first time and it was awful! We need some water really badly. . . Thank you so much." The reverse osmosis spigot was mounted on the sink and I began a conversation while it trickled into the mismatched cups I grabbed out of the dish rack. I gently chided them for their experimentation, citing my past experiences working at a drug rehab. The blonde, Kevin was his name, had an alcoholic father and grandfather and acknowledged that he especially needed to be cicumspect around alcohol and drugs. I asked the boys if they had any spiritual beliefs and they openly described Catholic school upbringings. Kevin had also gone to Christian Science school for two years and said now he saw God in surfing and sunsets. "You know," I told them, "I've never actually met a Catholic school educated partier in Isla Vista who had a positive view of God. In fact, many of them have a strongly negative take on faith in general." Kevin agreed, citing the rebellious teenage years as a bad time to get religion 'forced' on you. "So, what are your spiritual beliefs?" he asked me, more eager to hear than most. Smiling inwardly I gave him a condensed version of my secular upbringing and how I met Christ in high school. The boys were so open, Kevin especially, that I asked if they had heard of the gift of prophecy that the Apostle Paul wrote about. They had not, but readily agreed to let me pray for them to see if God would speak. We sat down on the couches in the living room and I did my best to listen to the Lord as the boys sat quietly with their eyes closed and the partying raged just outside the door. One word came to mind: "peacemaker." When I reported it to Kevin, he instantly agreed. "Yes," he said, "that's totally me!" We both grinned, acknowledging the fact that as strangers I had no way of knowing that apart from God. "In fact," Kevin said, "I just broke up a fight in front of the Bob Marley house ten minutes ago." I laughed happily, responding, "That's cool, I just prayed with my friend who felt God leading him to go to the Bob Marley house--ten minutes ago!" Kevin's cell phone rang and the boys stood to leave but not before Kevin asked if he could give me a hug. I readily agreed. "You know," he said, "You were the third person on this street that we asked for a glass of water. The first two wouldn't give us any but you did. Now, with the prayer and everything, I feel like we were meant to be here. We've come full circle."

A Changing Landscape

2008-10-04T09:37:00.000-07:00

During prayer last night Marilynn shared that she felt we should pray for "one." As soon as she said that, I saw a picture of a multi-colored tapestry in my mind. Each thread was a different hue and often a different texture or thickness, but all were tightly knit together and all essential for the one design. Just then, our sweet friend Tamara enters the room to my immediate left wearing a multi-colored woven scarf around her neck. That night we took the time to lay hands and pray for one another in love, and the knitting of our hearts together in vision and purpose made a marked differnce. Afterwards, I stood out front and had a good phone conversation with the agnostic friend of mine I wrote about last month (see Sept. 21 post). He told me that having deep discussions with me makes him both nervous and excited. Nervous because he knows my arguments will be both persuasive and challenging (thank you, Holy Spirit!) and because the thought of his worldview and core values being wrong is downright frightening. But he is excited because he is hearing the "other" view from an angle that is new to him and that makes him think beyond his stereotypes. "It's how you react to me," he explained. "I state my view--often totally opposite of yours--and instead of being offended, you are always...well...what's the word? Gracious, I guess." Ha! If only he knew how combative I was in my younger days as a believer! It is encouraging to see how the Lord has tempered me over the years... At one point hours later, I looked down at my watch and back up to the empty street, scratching my head. It wasn't even 1:30am and there were hardly any people out. The parties had mostly ended and only a few stragglers remained--certainly no crowds. Traditionally, the beginning of the UCSB fall quarter until Halloween is the most rowdy, loud, intense time of the entire year for partying and drunken revelry in Isla Vista. But on this, the second weekend of the year, most of Isla Vista had seemingly gone to bed. I stood there for a moment gawking at the empty street and looking back and forth at the crowd of people gathered around our fire pit as Tommy played worship songs on his guitar. There was a peace in the city that was uncommon for a Friday night. It is one thing to spend 6 years praying for Isla Vista and quite another to watch it transformed before your eyes.

The Time Has Come

2008-09-27T09:57:00.000-07:00

Last night a new season of Jesus burgers began. It is the seventh year for this grassroots ministry that has chosen food and hospitality as the "gift that makes way for the giver" (Prov. 18:16). [Click here to see a video of our history: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRil_7op5rs] The night was filled with familiar sights--droves of 18-22 year olds combing the streets, calling back and forth on cell phones, draining red cups, and ardently searching for the excitement they've heard Isla Vista brings to all who sample its fleshly fare. But there was also the familiar presence of God's kingdom--genuine worship, service, friendship, the fellowship of the saints, unity, submission and faithful prayer. We had old friends and new join us for the night: a patchwork of Jesus-loving youth from across the county all converging in the most unlikely of places. Together, we aspire to be clay in God's hands, offering ourselves as vessels of living water to those humble enough to ask for a drink. Evangelism in Isla Vista, CA is not glamorous, casual or convenient. It is not a ministry that lends itself to quick results or the haphazard scattering of seed. We are assured of a harvest only IF we do not give up (Gal. 6:9). Indeed, there is no time like the present to be faithful. Our generation is waiting.

A [Truly] Great Debate

2008-09-21T23:15:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I spoke to a politically liberal, agnostic friend of mine about my concern over someone who had recently "come out." Though fiercely opposed to my perspective, he wanted to present his pro-homosexual view without attacking me or damaging our relationship. True his word, he was meticulous in his statements and steady in his tone and volume level the entire time. The respect he showed for me and my views was almost unbelievable. He had such an earnest desire for civility that he refused to allow himself to become heated. It was the most profound, meaningful debate about a controversial issue I have ever had. His approach would put most Christians to shame. Though my friend is well-spoken and sensitive by nature, I believe the foundation for our uncommonly civil exchange was the friendship we share. He cannot easily dismiss my "conservative / religiously fundamentalist" views because he cannot dismiss me. We share a deep respect for each other's intellect, feelings and experiences. We see eye-to-eye in many areas and share many of the same values. Because I know him well, have prayed for him consistently, and understand how he thinks, I can present a Biblical worldview in a way that is tailor-made for him. I get to stand on the platform of the relationship I have worked hard to develop and proclaim the truth in love. Through this exchange I have learned more than I have ever known about how people on the other side of the issue approach homosexuality. God also showed me that this was a real-life example of the significance of love as truth's foundation. I pray that this lesson in civility will be one I never forget as I share the gospel with this agnostic friend, the residents of Isla Vista, and beyond.

A Word in Season

2008-09-09T20:37:00.000-07:00

Jason Lomelino shared about "alignment" this past Sunday at our IV Church gathering. I wanted to lend my "Amen" by adding something I got an unction to write at a Monday night prayer meeting. (Though I do have a background in writing, it is rare for me to be moved to write so quickly and succinctly). ------------------------- "Come into my presence and I will quiet all of your fears. I will still the storms of life and extend rest for your soul. I will cause all things to come into alignment under my perfect will, with Jesus as the head and my throne of grace established over all. "Come to me, the true vine, that the sap of life might course through your very being, causing fullness of health, strength, vigor and fruit-bearing capacity. "Come into my embrace, where outstretched arms can gather even a whole city of sin, where estranged sons and daughters find love everlasting and without condition. "Come to me, the Living Word made flesh, the Scriptures fulfilled, the Covenant-Maker who is both mediator and sacrificial lamb. I will write my law on your heart and live in you so my plan and purpose will be manifest in who you are." (7/14/08 ) --------------- I hope to keep unpacking these truths as the school year progresses and would love to share what I find with anyone desiring to hear more.

A Friendship Offering

2008-08-30T21:37:00.000-07:00

For me, direct ministry to the residents of Isla Vista is relegated to Friday nights during the school year at our Jesus Burgers outreach. There is, however, another avenue of ministry that allows me to be part of a life for longer than the 15 minutes it takes to stand in the burger line. It is a ministry that begins with a God-love that is deposited (poured?) into my heart for a non-believer. It continues with a friendship modeling agape love--a friendship that surprises unsuspecting people by both its commitment and intensity. Read on to see an analogy from history I used to explain this devotion to an unbelieving friend: --------------------- In olden times, whenever a king or leader wanted to make a demonstration of reconciliation or peace, they would send a gift ahead of them as a precursor to their visit. This friendship offering was a tangible expression of their favor, blessing and good intentions towards the recipient. The gift would be an item of great value and an indication of a sincere desire to meet on friendly terms. Should the king's gift be rejected, it would at best cause personal injury to the giver and at worst, incite a conflict at the obvious disdain of the receiving party. The individual would not only lose the precious offering they had been given, but also the relationship they could have had with the king. In the same way, I myself am a gift that has been sent by God to you as sincere expression of his love, kindness and desire for a relationship with you. It has taken a long time for you to receive me, but God has continued to give, his patient love taking no offense, hoping for the day when you would receive the blessing he had given you in my friendship. And now, as you have received me, please receive him. Any measure of kindness, love and mercy that you have received from me is simply a signpost pointing the way to a greater love, a greater kindness, a greater mercy found in the safety of his arms. I implore you on Christ's behalf: be reconciled to God.