Taylor

I barely even know how to begin. Like so many people, I lost someone very special and important to me today, and it’s difficult to even comprehend the impact the loss is going to have on myself and literally hundreds of other people.

Taylor Gillespie was one of my best friends. He was charismatic, full of energy (it wasn’t possible to have a bad time or for a party to be dull when he was around), creative, loyal to a fault, encouraging, and of course absolutely hilarious. He could take any situation and make it fun, but he knew when it was important to get serious and listen.

There’s so much I could write, but right now I’m still reeling and haven’t fully grasped the magnitude of the loss. I loved him so much, and he was such a part of my life that it will take a while to understand.

But I didn’t want this to be about me, either. No, the main reasons I wanted to write this were—

1) To acknowledge and mourn the loss of one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and­—

2) To acknowledge the deep sense of peace that has been so blessedly bestowed on me, in hopes that by sharing this sense of peace, others who knew and loved Taylor might feel it, too.

As a believer in Jesus, I have blessed assurance that Taylor is in heaven, probably touring it right now (knocking over ancient relics as he goes :), those big blue eyes wide with childlike wonder and giddy excitement, cracking jokes and making such hilariously unintentional irreverent comments that the angels are following him around all the old places they know so well, just to hear and laugh at Taylor Gillespie’s quick-witted commentary on everything, making the oldest or most seemingly uninteresting thing suddenly come alive and somehow be funny.

I find deep peace and even joy knowing he’s there, and that one day we will be reunited with him. It’s normal at this time to ask ourselves “how” or “why” this happened, and not only is it normal to grieve over the loss, it’s expected and good.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven…a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…” Ecclesiastes 3:4 (ESV)

“When Mordecai learned all that had been done, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes, and went out into the midst of the city, and he cried out with a loud and bitter cry.” Esther 4:1 (ESV) [See also Isaiah 61:1-3]

We should, therefore, allow ourselves to mourn and cry and plumb the depths of our loss for as long as we need, figuratively covering ourselves in sackcloth and ashes. But we need to mourn for a purpose. As Christians, why should we lose ourselves in our sorrow? Not only do we have a mighty Savior who came to rescue us from our personal, self-induced hell on earth, but also came to give us eternal life after our time here is done.

“O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?” 1 Cor. 15:55 (ESV)

Jesus took away death’s victory and sting through His death, offered us the free gift of grace so we could be led out of our darkness and death, for no other reason than He loves us and saw that we had no hope otherwise. Without Him and without extending this grace to us, life literally has no meaning or purpose.

“Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” 1 Cor. 15:58

Taylor believed this, and because of his belief and grateful acceptance of the grace that Jesus extends to us, I know he’s with his Savior now. And because I believe it, something wonderful has stolen over my heart, and over the hearts of several friends of mine and Taylor’s who I’ve talked to and who also believe and accept the wonderful grace of Jesus—“the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding…” (Philippians 4:7 [ESV])

Yes, I loved Taylor like a brother. Yes, he was one of my closest friends. Yes, there are thousands of wonderful memories of times spent with him. Yes, he was so wound up in my heart and in my life that I don’t know what my last semester of my senior year will look like without him. But I can look anyone in the eye and tell them this with confidence: I have such great peace and joy because of my faith in God, and because I know that Taylor shared this faith, I have blessed assurance and rest knowing that I will see him again, and that his passing was not some random, unfortunate accident—it has a purpose, and we are assured that the number of our days are written in God’s Book of Life.

“Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” Psalms 139:16 (ESV)

There are no accidents or purposeless lives or moments. “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28 [ESV])

When a person’s life seems to be cut too short, some people will say that that person’s life was like a flare. I tend to agree, but in Taylor’s case I’d say his life was like a firework; inspiring, full of show, color, and almost blinding in its unique, brilliant display (and of course immensely entertaining). It would be severely wrong to not allow ourselves to mourn this great loss, but it would be more of a mistake to lose ourselves in our grief when we know Jesus has conquered death, and that this is not the end.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longer for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected in, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.

“For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” Romans 8:18-25 (ESV)

I apologize if this seems to be a long ramble—while I feel an underlying peace in all of this, of course I’m still grieving, so my mind isn’t completely clear.

I will never forget Taylor and his friendship, and my greatest condolences and my warmest and most heartfelt prayers go up for Mr. and Mrs. Gillespie, and everyone who knew Taylor. I pray for a peace that surpasses all understanding to comfort your grieving heart, a sense of reason and trust in knowing God knew the number of days Taylor was to be here to embed itself in your mind, and a deeply healing outpouring of tears to flow from your eyes. God bless, keep and comfort us all. Amen.

I love you, Taylor, and always will.



“Then his wife said to him, ‘Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God and die.’ But he said to her, ‘You speak as one of the foolish women speak. Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?’ In all this Job did not sin with his lips.” Job 2:9-10

“I can count a million times

People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I've gone through.
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You?
Maybe since my life was changed,
Long before these rainy days,
It's never really ever crossed my mind.
To turn my back on you, oh Lord,
My only shelter from the storm,
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray—

Bring me joy, bring me peace,
Bring the chance to be free,
Bring me anything that brings You glory.
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain,
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain.

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain.
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain.
So I pray—

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty.” – MercyMe, “Bring the Rain”

Serve, Pray, Love

One again, I had a small insight from listening to a Breakaway podcast.

I’ve been noticing this trend in our society that says we should focus wholly on self to find personal enlightenment and inner peace. The movie Eat, Pray, Love just came out, and I read an article yesterday about a new HBO show called “The Big C,” where the main character is dying from an incurable melanoma, but she has chosen to not tell her husband or son, and instead live out the remainder of her life to (what she perceives to be) its fullest. There are a myriad of other examples I could mention, and really it’s not news that our society is self-absorbed, but I think I may have connected something that I’m unsure if anyone has connected before.

I’m afraid this “look inside to better yourself and find enlightenment” ideology has silently pervaded the Christian community.

I must preface what I’m about to say with admitting that I’ve been struggling with my faith all summer. Legalism is still a big concern for me, and this accusation of “You’re not worthy to come before God because you’re so sinful” somehow still rings in my head, and I somehow still believe it. I have been shying away from God, thinking that he’s angered when I try to draw near, and that he would fling my apologies back in my face because “You don’t truly mean it; you’ll keep sinning.”

I see that typed out and I can recognize that it’s wrong, but I didn’t know how to see God in a different light. Then it occurred to me:

I don’t know how to see him in a different light, because I’m looking inside myself to find him.

This is, of course, obvious. You don’t get to know someone by forming opinions of them in your own mind, and then dwelling on those thoughts about their personality and coming to conclusions about what you think they would do or be like—your opinions and thoughts are completely biased toward what you would do. And even reading about that person isn’t enough (just reading the Bible, for example)—you must experience them, get to know them. But how do you do that with God?

I think the answer is, Get outside of yourself, and seek him where he is instead of trying to find him within yourself.

But where is he?

There are moments in life when, I believe, heaven and earth reach out and touch each other. I can’t really describe them—there’s a certain feeling I get when I see it happening, which I can best describe as me being “awestruck,” mainly because I feel the presence of God presiding over the entire situation. These moments tend to occur when I witness (or partake in) an act of random kindness toward a person in need; I can feel the presence of God there, and I continue to feel it even after the act has been completed.

God is in these moments, and these moments occur when the body of Christ starts moving and acting as the body of Christ, reaching out and touching others’ lives. I find it interesting that Jesus spent the majority of his time on earth serving others and telling his disciples to do the same. Of course he prayed and spent time to reflect and be with God, but this was to rest after all of his intense serving, not to navel-gaze and think about how he could “better himself.”

I’ve been praying a lot over the years, begging God to show me how our relationship can be different, because the way it is now is exhausting and burdened with a sense of guilt on my end. Don’t ask me how this Breakaway podcast led me to this conclusion (I don’t remember), but I think the next logical step is to focus on serving in a way that God has equipped me to serve.

My mom has written an excellent article about finding God’s will for your life, and in it she asserts that Christians are called to actively participate in tikkun olam—repairing and restoring that which is broken in the world. She is also a college and career counselor who directs students to their ideal college majors by helping them uncover their natural talents, so her article is about participating in tikkun olam by using the gifts God has given you.

I plan to look around and see where God could use my specific abilities, and try to get reacquainted with him.

With regard to both my feeling like I am unworthy to approach God because of my sins, and that we are to seek to serve others:

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” (Eph. 2:8-10, ESV)

God hasn’t allowed my looking for him through reading his Word, having reflection time and offering up prayer to work because he wants for us to get to know each other first, and for me to learn to love him. And I see now that he intends to woo me by calling me to participate in the places where heaven and earth are touching—the places where he is practicing tikkun olam.

Bird

I could see the purple martin’s heart beating wildly through his tiny, puffed up chest; his beady eyes blinking fiercely as he lay in my father’s palm, his wings pinned by my father’s gentle fingertips to keep him from flying away.

My fearless little friend had a string of floss wrapped around his toothpick leg, and I was carefully working to disentangle him without pulling his leg or cutting it in two with a careless pinch of my tweezers. He had been chained to his nest by the floss—clearly it had been chosen for building material, but had come loose and entwined itself to the bird’s leg, preventing him from leaving his nest. I noticed him, struggling valiantly against his tethers, while walking by the nest he and his family had built in an exterior corner of my house. They built this nest perhaps two or three years ago, and have always returned at the end of every winter. The ferocity and pride of this little family had left an impression on me, and I stood for a moment watching him fight the floss, debating whether I should help him or leave him to die with his dignity and pride intact.

After watching him attempt to fly away numerous times in a grand show of feathers and might, only to flop awkwardly back to his nest where his leg was immovably chained, his beady eyes peered at me over the top of his nest, warily suspicious of what I might do while he was thus ensnared. He was clearly irate with his situation, but perhaps more irate that he needed help. A few minutes later, my father and I had gently removed him from his nest, and I set to work trying to remove the offending floss.

As I worked, I could feel my admiration for the bird’s fearlessness and tenacity growing. But mingled with my admiration was a newfound sense of responsibility and love. I was the witness to two very powerful lessons that day: The impact of my choices on the environment, and how much God cares for even the smallest of creatures. This bird had gathered up what he hoped would be the best materials to build his nest, only to be caught by them. There was no mistake; a simple negligence on my part, such as possibly allowing the floss to fly out of the garbage bag, had almost deadly repercussions for this tiny bird.

This bird obviously felt he was a fearsome warrior, but at the moment he was utterly vulnerable and helpless. I could sense his wounded pride that he needed help, mixed with relief that he was receiving it. I felt like a mother who watches her small, independent child stick out his chest and bravely go out to conquer the world, only to run back and hide his tear-streaked face in his mother’s skirt because he skinned his knee.

That moment, as I have found, was also a powerful demonstration to me of God’s love for even the smallest of creatures:

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.” (Matthew 10:29, ESV)

I often hear Christians say animals will not go to heaven because they do not have souls. I disagree. God’s creation, in my mind, is a manifestation of Him and His power and love—why would He discard them after their time on earth ends? He took special care to design them, down to the tiniest detail, and saved them from the ravages of the flood. This argument seems to be born of Christian backlash against “New Age” ideas; in particular the worship of the earth and created things. Few Christians seem to marvel in God’s design long enough to allow themselves to worship the Creator for the marvelous intricacies of His creation, and are possibly hindering their understanding and enjoyment of Him by doing so. For who can sit next to a centuries-old tree and not find comfort knowing their God is likewise sturdy and strong, with ancient roots that run deep in the soils of wisdom? Who can carefully study the small details of a simple daisy, and not be worshipfully overwhelmed at its thousands of complex, intricate details? Who can find a cool, windswept respite in the shadow of a tree on a warm day, and not praise the Maker’s gentle eye, watching over us and providing for our needs?

Descriptions of nature abound throughout the Old and New Testament to illuminate moral lessons, clarify proverbs, illustrate beautiful scenes, and give silent but powerful testimonies to the glory of God. Modern Christians seem to have cast off the importance of these descriptions, yet seek to find wisdom and life lessons hidden in scriptures rife with natural allegories. But can we expect to understand one without understanding the other? What new depths could a deeper understanding and appreciation for the natural world bring us as we plumb the mysteries of God’s Word?

An accident as simple as finding a bird whose leg had become entangled to a piece of floss provided invaluable firsthand lessons about environmental stewardship, and the love God feels for even the smallest members of His creation. Yet if I were averse to understanding God through His creation, I might have missed these lessons. For how can I witness His concern and provision for that tiny purple martin, and not revel and rejoice in how much more He cares for me?

Sacrilege and Grace

"You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore." - Psalm 16:11 (ESV Study Bible)

Although it feels sacrilegious to say this on Easter, I feel I must make a confession:

Until very recently, I didn't understand what was so amazing about grace.

You hear all the time in church about how amazing it is that God chose to come save us from our sins, and you see and hear people getting so emotional about it, but what are they normally saying? "Jesus came to die for YOU! Isn't that amazing, just so completely awesome? For you. He did it for His glory--so you can glorify Him to all the nations of the world!"

To continue my sacrilegious confession, I always secretly thought that this seemed a little, well----vain of God. I always agreed that He deserves praise (trust me, I'm very aware of who I am in relation to Him, and I'm very impressed), but there's been a part of me that asks, "So, wait, He saved us so we could tell Him how awesome He is, and then tell other people how awesome He is so then THEY can tell Him how awesome He is? Why would anybody want to follow this religion?"

So a couple of months ago, I prayed to Him, "Father, You know I'm not saying I don't like You or that You're not deserving of praise, but is this seriously it? It just seems so.....lacking in substance. Could You please explain to me why Jesus dying on the cross for me was so amazing?"

I struggled with this for weeks, until finally (I felt) an answer came. I was singing "Jesus Paid It All," and the lyrics

"Oh praise the One who paid my debt, and raised this life up from the dead"

suddenly had a new meaning. I heard Him say, "Grace is amazing because you don't have to be the person you were born to be. You were born with sin inside of you, but because you allowed Me into your life, you are no longer a slave to that sin, and are free to be better. I wanted to save you from the person you were going to be."

Immediately I thought of all the sins I naturally have a propensity toward (everyone has different ones--it's pretty interesting), and wondered what I would look like right now if I didn't have Him to save me from myself. I realized my life would look nothing like it does now, and I was so thankful grace had saved me from myself. Why don't we, as Christians, talk about this more?

Today was Easter, and we celebrated Christ's victory over death. As Christians we tend to think of this in terms of Heaven and Hell, but we forget this could be a symbol of our earthly lives as well. Jesus nailed our sins to the cross so we could die to our old selves and be resurrected as new beings, completely victorious over the death our old lives bring. We can have a new start and a new hope.

It's interesting, because I just found out the theme of my mission trip to Japan this summer is "Choose Life," and it will focus on Japan's high suicide rate (the highest in the world). This is a social issue that has been on my heart for years, and I can't help but wonder if maybe my questioning the value of grace (and the subsequent insight) won't help me and my team this summer. How many Japanese people do you think would welcome a God who loves them unconditionally, and wants to heal their brokenness and take away their pain?

Please be praying for me and my team as we get ready for this summer. Please pray God would continue to show me effective ways to talk with the Japanese people about this God who loves and restores, and that their hearts will be softened and healed.

xXx See Christians, Raw and Uncensored, Every Sunday Morning! CHRISTIANS CHRISTIANS CHRISTIANS!! xXx

"Are we happy plastic people?
Under shiny plastic steeples,
With walls around our weakness,
And smiles to hide our pain.
But if the invitation's open,
To every heart that has been broken,
Maybe then we close the curtain
On our stained glass masquerade."

Once again, God has used a Casting Crowns song to perfectly capture how I feel.

I don't know what it was, but for whatever reason I started to feel a little frustrated tonight with my church/Christian friends situation.

Quick aside: If you're reading this and you're a friend of mine, please do not automatically assume I'm referring to you. However, please do read all the way to the end to read what I hope I can expect from you as a Christian brother or sister, and what you can expect from me in return. Now back to the thought I began in the previous paragraph...

I was thinking how frustrated I've been in church, feeling like everyone acts so perfectly sweet and milk-toasty, yet still keeping each other at arm's length. I have yet to pick up any vibes that say, "It's OK to be open and honest with your struggles and doubts, and it's also OK to not be OK." I feel like everyone has these sickly sweet smiles plastered on their faces and sparkles in their eyes only because they're afraid they're not proclaiming the changing power of Christ in their lives unless they constantly look happy and peaceful.

There also seems to be some unwritten, tacitly understood code that you are not allowed to have a personality if you are a Christian. Both men and women are expected to regard each other with soft, dewey eyes of love and peacefulness, and NEVER make jokes unless they will provoke a giggling response. If the joke makes you laugh hysterically, it must be sinful somehow, and you most definitely need to stifle such laughter and regard the naughty one who told the joke with laughing but surprised eyes.

You can tell I have encountered this reaction multiple times before.

But perhaps what irks me the most is how everyone seems to feel you must always somehow incorporate the words "God's glory" into any and every sentence, even if it makes absolutely NO sense. Honestly, when you use it that much, it begins to have no meaning. If I want to thank God for the banana slushie I'm about to eat, and pray that "You would use my eating this banana slushie.....uhh....Father God, for Your glory, and I just praise You and thank You for this slushie, Father God, and ask that Your name would be glorified, Father God. Amen."

What?

Don't misunderstand me. Obviously God is indescribably amazing and I'm in awe of what He did for me despite who I am, but as a writer it bothers me to hear people throw a wonderful truth into absolutely everything, and diluting its verity by turning it into a Christian catchphrase/non sequitur.

I bring this up because I feel it's another way we hide our true selves from each other. We create little catchphrases that we can throw into our sentences when we feel ourselves drifting into "unhappy and unpleasant" territory, and no one can question us. "My day was so hard. I bombed a test, I locked myself out of my apartment, then I forgot to go to the store....but.....yeah, it's all OK. God's got everything under control :)." To which the appropriate response is, "Yeah, God is so amazing. He's just like.....yeah, so awesome :)." Then we fasten our happy glowing eyes on one another and slowly nod our heads while saying "Yeahhh...." with contented, knowing smiles. Dragging out the nods and "Yeahhhs..." helps us not actually engage in a real conversation, which could be the death of our squeaky clean facades.

This is hard to write, because I love the people I meet at church, but I absolutely hate how it seems we feel we have to keep up a mask so we will appear Christian. Who decided this sweet, sappy, incredibly dull and unoriginal mask was what we all need to wear? Why do we try to act like the Jesus we saw in the Jesus videos as kids? I want a community where I can talk with REAL people about my life, and they can honestly share their lives with me (and we can crack a real joke once in awhile!).

To my Christian friends out there, please accept my sincerest apologies for the times I have fallen into this trap of putting on a mask to appear Christlike, when what I really needed to do was be real and allow myself to be vulnerable. You need to know I struggle with dark sins--some of which have been either removed from me or curbed significantly because of God's work within me, and others that I still deal with daily. I'm truly sorry for the times I have been fake with you, and may have made you feel that I have it all together, and that I'm somehow not a soft place to land if you ever fall and need someone to help you up. I will be there for you, and I'm not afraid to admit there is nothing good about me except what Christ has wrought within me, and there is no sin or struggle you could ever confide to me that would shock me or make me question your walk with God. We are all gross and evil, and pretending like we aren't and not being honest with each other is Satan's way of ensuring he can get us alone and lead us away from God. Don't fall for it; let's you and I get real with each other.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." - 2 Cor. 12:9 (ESV Study Bible)

We don't prove to each other that we're great Christians because of our seeming lack of imperfections; we ARE more Christlike when we're honest and even thankful for our weaknesses. Also read 1 John 1:5-10, and listen to Casting Crown's "Stained Glass Masquerade" and tell me if you don't agree that we are dealing with a plastic menace in our churches that is damaging our relationships with each other and God.

For This Reason

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28, ESV Study Bible

Again, I wish I had more time to really delve into what this passage means to me, but I've got a feeling I won't be able to write it all. It's important to me to write at least the basics, though, so I'm going to get right to it.

This semester has been more packed, more hectic, and (more?) bursting with exciting opportunities and blessings than all of my previous semesters combined, and it has just gotten started! I'm stretched out all over the place, but I'm absolutely loving it and can sense God's Hand upon me, blessing me and helping me keep up with all of it, while still furthering our relationship. It's absolutely mind-blowing.

But where this verse becomes relevant to me is in the most recent development in my life; I applied for and was selected to be the communications student worker in one of my university's departments, and it's an unbelievable opportunity. It's writing-intensive, and I will gain experience in interviewing people and writing feature stories.

The job was offered to me this morning, but before I could accept, I had a nagging question to answer: Would taking this job interfere with my spiritual preparations for my trip to Tokyo? Would this job truly be beneficial, or am I just pursuing it because it's great experience and will look good on my resume after I graduate?

I wrestled with this question all day, and told God I would walk away from it if accepting the position would jeopardize my spiritual preparation. Tonight, I received this response:

First, the word "journalism" flashed through my mind, and I heard Him say, "Lindsey, I am sending you for this reason. No one else can do it."

It became clear to me that He was saying He sent this job to prepare me for the journalistic tasks I will have while in Tokyo, and He intends to prepare me for that purpose through this job. He seems to feel Christians don't know the great spiritual needs there are in Japan, and I have a part to play in spreading awareness.

I was afraid this job would hinder my spiritual preparation and my schoolwork, but that verse promises that "for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." I've already seen Him work in mysterious ways to help me pack everything in and get it all done, and I sincerely believe it's because He knows I need ALL of these experiences to help prepare me for what lies ahead, and His purpose for my life.

"And if our God is for us, who then could ever stop us?" - Chris Tomlin

An Ancient Work

Each month, the mission organization that is sending me to Tokyo this summer sends out something a Monthly Challenge, or a "MoChal" as they call it. January's MoChal is about accepting that, as a missionary, I am not "starting" the work of God in any person's life (either here or in Tokyo); I am joining into an ancient work that God started long before I even arrived. The second half of the MoChal is reflecting on the ancient work God put into place to lead me to Himself.

The verses they give include the story of Phillip and the Ethiopian (Acts 8:26-40), and the story of Peter and Cornelius (Acts 10:1-11:18). When I read these chapters, I was struck by the thought of how crucial it is to follow God's directions as quickly and thoroughly as possible. What if Peter hadn't accepted the vision's message, and insisted that all Gentiles were unclean? What if he hadn't gone to Cornelius' house? Cornelius and his family (who sound like they were all devout, practicing believers) might have never heard the Good News, and the Jews who protested Peter going inside Cornelius' house might have never had their hearts softened to sharing the gospel with Gentiles. All that could have happened (or could have not happened) if Peter had chosen to disobey.

God gave me an insight recently, and it was this:

When you talk with someone about Christ, you have no idea what your role in their life is going to be. You could be the one who plants the seed (tells them the basics), or the one who waters it (explains the details and answers their questions), or the one who harvests the plant (actually praying with them), or the one who processes the plant (guiding them as they begin their walk with Jesus). You really don't know where God is sending you in, but you must be content with the role you have been called to play.

So many Christians seem go straight for the "harvest" part, and in doing so they act in a way that seems unloving and insensitive to the person they are speaking to. It is far less destructive and far more constructive to take the time to listen to what a person is saying and asking about Jesus, and to try to figure out what your role in that person's life will be at that moment. Let the Holy Spirit guide you, and accept His direction and His words. Do not hinder the ancient work God began in that person by acting like you know exactly what needs to be said. Humble yourself and accept your role in the work He started in that person a long time ago, and be confident that He will continue that work even after you're gone.

As for the second half of the MoChal, I don't know how thoroughly I can do that right now (I'm a little pressed for time), so it might need to wait for another time, when I can lay out the details and marvel at the awesome journey that has led me to the point I'm currently at. I can already tell it's going to impress me :).