I grew up in Christian home. We did all those things that typical Christians do: went to church every week, spent time with the elderly and sick, went to mid-week service, youth group, and prayer group, participated in Christmas and Easter programs. We even had family worship, and my parents taught us all about Jesus, His sacrifice, and saving grace. I think we can all agree that many times a person or an entire family can live the life I just described and still not be a 'Christian'.
Sure, a lot of people say they are Christian because they go through the motions, abide by the rules, learn what's expected of them and do it. Reading this some people may think that's exactly what my family was doing, but they'd be wrong. See, my parents never once forced any of us kids to participate in church or religion in general. I'm sure that had any of us rebelled against it we would've been expected to at least keep the Sabbath while under their roof, but generally my parents left it up to us.
What they did might frighten some Christian parents. It may downright upset some altogether. What my parents did was teach us all they could about God at every opportunity, give us every chance we wanted or needed to experience God's love through service to others or fellowship with other Christians, and then they let us do what we wanted.
So...
Every Sabbath we were in church.
Every Wednesday we were at Pathfinders (most of us liked it so much we went on to lead out as adults).
Once a month we went to a nursing home after church to sing to the elderly.
Every fall we would collect canned goods for the needy.
Every Christmas we would sing our hearts out at the Christmas program.
And we did all this of our own volition.
It's true, we as a family were highly involved in church, but I don't think anyone ever questioned our motives--not even when we sometimes had the opportunity to just be kids.
I can definitely account for at least 6 Halloweens in my childhood that I dressed up and went Trick-or-Treating. I'm sure there were more, but I know for sure I went those years because I remember my costumes. Once I was an angel, two years I was The Little Mermaid, two years I was Pocahontas, and at least once I was a hippie. I can say with complete sincerity that my dressing up and traveling the neighborhood with droves of other young children in the spirit of fun did not diminish or damage my relationship with God in the slightest way. I will go further and say that none of those other children that I spent most days with, that saw me in the hallways at school, or played with me in our yards in evenings thought any less of me as a sincere Christian because of my participation in the activity.
My parents' three fun-loving, and church-going children didn't return home after Trick-or-Treating with a mean or evil spirit. Mostly we just shared laughs and candy.
It's not the healthiest holiday (but none are). It doesn't have the brightest story in history books. It costs money (unless you are good with a sewing machine or paper mache), and takes time.
But that is how memories are made. I have many memories from my childhood, most have to do with church trips or Pathfinder trips, family camping trips, and holidays. What I remember about Halloween is that it was a lot of fun to Trick-or-Treat with my brothers and parents and friends. It is my oldest brother's birthday, so we got to have birthday cake and Halloween candy.
I also always seem to remember a story about a little boy that my parents new from college. They were all in college for ministry, and this little boy wanted to go Trick-or-Treating, so his parents took him. He dressed like the devil complete with the red suit, pitchfork, and pointed tail. When at one house he was asked if he could do a trick for some candy he stood as straight as he could, his chest out so proud, and sang "Jesus Loves Me" in his devil outfit.
Now, my sons are still a little young for such tricks, but some that my oldest knows is how to pray, how to share, and how to love. He knows some Bible stories and truths about our Lord. The truth is that these aren't tricks at all. They are our lifestyle. Sure, every year we carve a pumpkin for our porch, we let him pick out a Halloween costume, walk door to door with a bag for candy, and he brightens faces behind every door with his smile. For now this is what Halloween is about for him. He has a lot of fun, and so do we. When we start handing out candy we may attach something to the candy to give the kids a little something meaningful, but when we don't get that stuff in our kids' bags, it doesn't upset us. Our kids learn all about God through our lifestyle. They don't unlearn it over one night of Trick-or-Treating.
So this Halloween when you open the door, one of the many Batman faces you see will be with me. I hope he and his cowboy comrade (his little brother) bring you some joy, because they sure get joy out of Trick-or-Treating.
I urge everyone to educate themselves and make your own choices regarding holidays. Where there seems to always be 'Pagan roots' to many of our beloved holidays, there are also Christian ones. To many holiday traditions are just a time to spend with family anyway, and so I say Celebrate! But please remember, if you study the history and decide not to celebrate a holiday in a certain way, be careful not to judge others who still do. It may not take away from their Christian experience in the least, and who are you to make that judgment anyway?
This website (Celebrating Holidays) is very helpful, not only to explain the Christian history of every major holiday, but also includes activities and hints to keep holidays wholesome. I encourage anyone on the fence to check it out. And if you decide to go Trick-or-Treating be SAFE and HEALTHY!
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Thursday, October 25, 2012
A Picture of God from Red
What happens when you listen to Christian music almost exclusively for a year and a half? Apparently what happens to this girl is that I go to buy a song from one of my favorite secular artists' new album and in my brain, turn it Christian. It's not a bad thing. My favorite song from Taylor Swift's new album Red, "The Last Time", can hurt if it reminds you of an old or current love, but the lyrics can be heartbreaking if it reminds you of God's love.
Maybe the lyrics speak to me in this way because I've been reading a book called Pursued by a Relentless God in which the author, Shawn Brace, explores the grace of God in a new light--or at least a light I've never explored or realized.
An interesting trend in modern spirituality seems to be an inclination toward mysticism, in which Christians are seeking God through various forms of prayer and meditation. Some people feel the only way to get close to God is to empty their minds and disconnect from their physical bodies through repetitive prayers and chants.
This is not a thesis about the dangers of contemplative prayers. I am just using this as an example because it is a hot issue in Christian circles. There are many examples of Christians attempting to get closer to God. One example is legalism; another is the participation in a pilgrimage. There are many ways in which we attempt to bring ourselves closer to God.
But what I'm learning through reading this book and studying God's Word is that God is already close to me.
He is pursuing me.
Think about that. Think about every way you have tried to sabotage your own salvation by pursuing mindless whims. Think about your life, however long. My life has been a long road of 26 years. Some may not think it long, but when you take into account all the mountains and valleys (many of which I placed in my own way), it has been a long journey. Now think about God's pursuit of you. How often did you find God when you sought him? I will be honest and say, most the time I was seeking God, I couldn't see Him, because my sin was in my way. All the times that I found God, it was because He was there, waiting for me.
With that in mind, read over this selection of lyrics from Taylor Swift's "The Last Time" and imagine that they are God's words to us:
"I find myself at your door,
Just like all those times before,
I’m not sure how I got there,
All roads they lead me here.
I imagine you are home,
In your room, all alone,
And you open your eyes into mine,
And everything feels better.
I'm right before your eyes,
I’m breaking.
No thoughts, no reasons why,
Just you and me…
This is the last time I’m asking you this-
Put my name at the top of your list,
This is the last time I’m asking you why,
You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye…
You find yourself at my door,
Just like all those times before,
You wear your best apology,
But I was there to watch you leave.
And all the times I let you in,
Just for you to go again,
Disappear when you come back,
Everything is better."
It being a secular song, not all of it 'fits', but this section really gets me thinking about God's pursuant love for us. If you haven't heard this song, it's a duet. The male character pursues the girl, ends up at her door. The female character keeps letting him in and letting him hurt her. That's generally how heartbreak works.
But God plays both parts. Not only does he pursue us relentlessly, ending up at our door time and again (Rev 3:20), but He also waits patiently for us to come to Him time and again "wearing our best apology", and once we've gotten what we want we leave.
The patience by which God waits for us comes from the Greek word makrothumia. The word originates from makros (long, far, distant) and thumos (an outburst of passion). This type of patience driven by the passion of God Himself is enough for Him not only to pursue us, but to keep letting us return.
It is the patience of a father when his child leaves the nest, makes terrible decisions, squanders love and money, and returns...again.
It is the patience of a mother, a phone call away, waiting for the need to arise, waiting to swoop in to the rescue.
Something I've learned about parents is that they pursue their children. They will also watch them leave again and again.
God is the same.
Because that patience is of God. His love, mercy, and passion drives that patience. No matter how many times I land on His doorstep, I can rest assured that He spent the night on mine. No matter how many times I break His heart by walking away, I imagine Him one step behind me.
How can I not love a God like that?
Maybe the lyrics speak to me in this way because I've been reading a book called Pursued by a Relentless God in which the author, Shawn Brace, explores the grace of God in a new light--or at least a light I've never explored or realized.
An interesting trend in modern spirituality seems to be an inclination toward mysticism, in which Christians are seeking God through various forms of prayer and meditation. Some people feel the only way to get close to God is to empty their minds and disconnect from their physical bodies through repetitive prayers and chants.
This is not a thesis about the dangers of contemplative prayers. I am just using this as an example because it is a hot issue in Christian circles. There are many examples of Christians attempting to get closer to God. One example is legalism; another is the participation in a pilgrimage. There are many ways in which we attempt to bring ourselves closer to God.
But what I'm learning through reading this book and studying God's Word is that God is already close to me.
He is pursuing me.
Think about that. Think about every way you have tried to sabotage your own salvation by pursuing mindless whims. Think about your life, however long. My life has been a long road of 26 years. Some may not think it long, but when you take into account all the mountains and valleys (many of which I placed in my own way), it has been a long journey. Now think about God's pursuit of you. How often did you find God when you sought him? I will be honest and say, most the time I was seeking God, I couldn't see Him, because my sin was in my way. All the times that I found God, it was because He was there, waiting for me.
With that in mind, read over this selection of lyrics from Taylor Swift's "The Last Time" and imagine that they are God's words to us:
"I find myself at your door,
Just like all those times before,
I’m not sure how I got there,
All roads they lead me here.
I imagine you are home,
In your room, all alone,
And you open your eyes into mine,
And everything feels better.
I'm right before your eyes,
I’m breaking.
No thoughts, no reasons why,
Just you and me…
This is the last time I’m asking you this-
Put my name at the top of your list,
This is the last time I’m asking you why,
You break my heart in the blink of an eye, eye, eye…
You find yourself at my door,
Just like all those times before,
You wear your best apology,
But I was there to watch you leave.
And all the times I let you in,
Just for you to go again,
Disappear when you come back,
Everything is better."
It being a secular song, not all of it 'fits', but this section really gets me thinking about God's pursuant love for us. If you haven't heard this song, it's a duet. The male character pursues the girl, ends up at her door. The female character keeps letting him in and letting him hurt her. That's generally how heartbreak works.
But God plays both parts. Not only does he pursue us relentlessly, ending up at our door time and again (Rev 3:20), but He also waits patiently for us to come to Him time and again "wearing our best apology", and once we've gotten what we want we leave.
The patience by which God waits for us comes from the Greek word makrothumia. The word originates from makros (long, far, distant) and thumos (an outburst of passion). This type of patience driven by the passion of God Himself is enough for Him not only to pursue us, but to keep letting us return.
It is the patience of a father when his child leaves the nest, makes terrible decisions, squanders love and money, and returns...again.
It is the patience of a mother, a phone call away, waiting for the need to arise, waiting to swoop in to the rescue.
Something I've learned about parents is that they pursue their children. They will also watch them leave again and again.
God is the same.
Because that patience is of God. His love, mercy, and passion drives that patience. No matter how many times I land on His doorstep, I can rest assured that He spent the night on mine. No matter how many times I break His heart by walking away, I imagine Him one step behind me.
How can I not love a God like that?
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Jesus Prays
I have just stumbled upon a passage in the scripture of John in which we get a glimpse of Jesus in an intimate prayer with His Father. There is something about Jesus' prayer here that draws my attention. Of course Jesus prayed throughout His life and ministry on earth, of that I'm sure. So why does this draw me so?
Do you have someone you speak to regularly, draw encouragement and strength from, and to whom you confide in in an intimate capacity? I have three of these confidants--my cousin, Ally, my mom, and my husband. When I speak to these people I rarely invite someone else into the conversation, nor do I discuss the issue outside of our conversation.
Of course I believe Jesus prayed actively and often throughout His life and ministry on this earth, but I always imagined His praying as a sort of intimate conversation between father and son (much like my talks with my mom). So what makes this instance any different?
One of the most known prayers of Jesus to His Father, I think, would be in the garden of Gethsemane before His arrest in which he pleads "Oh, my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Matthew 26) He prays that prayer 3 times while trying to take comfort in his Father's presence through prayer, as well as His disciples' support (but they keep falling asleep). This prayer is a desperate one between a Father and a Son. Jesus knows His Father holds all authority, but when I read this prayer I think of a time when I may have called my mom up, tears streaming down my face, trying to come up with the words to identify my pain. Jesus' prayer here is short and distressed, but His Father knows His heart. This is the kind of prayer I had always pictured Jesus praying, until I found this one in John.
According to the gospel of Matthew this is the last prayer Jesus prayed before His arrest. It isn't recorded in John, though. In John we get a different picture of Jesus. I tend to think the prayer of John 17 came before that of Matthew, because the disciples are with Jesus, awake. In this prayer, in public (or in the presence of the disciples), Jesus takes on a different ere, one of authority, in which he prays for Himself, His disciples, and His Church. I think what draws me to John 17 so is the passionate love Jesus shows through His prayer. Remember, this is one of Jesus' last prayers to His Father before His arrest. He could be asking right then, "let this cup pass," but instead He prays for glorification--not for Himself, but so that God can be glorified through Him; He prays for the disciples--that they may be one, made perfect, that they may have Jesus' joy, that they will be kept from evil, that they be sanctified, and that they may be with Him in glory, and that they may have the love in them that God has for them. Really, the fact that God's final words are of love for His people and His church blows me away. I shouldn't be surprised, though. God is love, and Jesus is God in the flesh. Also, it's not just any prayer--not just a conversation between a father and a son. Jesus is taking on an ere of authority in this prayer. He has the power to pray on behalf of these people He loves so much and He knows His Father has the power to see it through.
This is how I want to pray. I can pray for myself, sometimes even beg God to do things my way (and a lot of times I do), but I hope that when the time comes that I have little time on earth I spend my prayers to pray for those I love. Jesus spent verse after verse in John 17 praying for others. He prayed a short prayer of personal anguish and need in Matthew, but the majority of His words were for others.
I have to make it a personal goal to remember this. When I pray I don't want it to be repetitive requests for myself (although sometimes I do need to pray for myself), but prayers for others. From talking to my mom about her prayer life and just observing how she prays I have come to realize that prayers are more powerful when you're praying for others. I know I personally want to have a powerful prayer life, so that I can have those intimate, personal moments with God as well as interceding on behalf of others.
Do you have someone you speak to regularly, draw encouragement and strength from, and to whom you confide in in an intimate capacity? I have three of these confidants--my cousin, Ally, my mom, and my husband. When I speak to these people I rarely invite someone else into the conversation, nor do I discuss the issue outside of our conversation.
Of course I believe Jesus prayed actively and often throughout His life and ministry on this earth, but I always imagined His praying as a sort of intimate conversation between father and son (much like my talks with my mom). So what makes this instance any different?
One of the most known prayers of Jesus to His Father, I think, would be in the garden of Gethsemane before His arrest in which he pleads "Oh, my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt" (Matthew 26) He prays that prayer 3 times while trying to take comfort in his Father's presence through prayer, as well as His disciples' support (but they keep falling asleep). This prayer is a desperate one between a Father and a Son. Jesus knows His Father holds all authority, but when I read this prayer I think of a time when I may have called my mom up, tears streaming down my face, trying to come up with the words to identify my pain. Jesus' prayer here is short and distressed, but His Father knows His heart. This is the kind of prayer I had always pictured Jesus praying, until I found this one in John.
According to the gospel of Matthew this is the last prayer Jesus prayed before His arrest. It isn't recorded in John, though. In John we get a different picture of Jesus. I tend to think the prayer of John 17 came before that of Matthew, because the disciples are with Jesus, awake. In this prayer, in public (or in the presence of the disciples), Jesus takes on a different ere, one of authority, in which he prays for Himself, His disciples, and His Church. I think what draws me to John 17 so is the passionate love Jesus shows through His prayer. Remember, this is one of Jesus' last prayers to His Father before His arrest. He could be asking right then, "let this cup pass," but instead He prays for glorification--not for Himself, but so that God can be glorified through Him; He prays for the disciples--that they may be one, made perfect, that they may have Jesus' joy, that they will be kept from evil, that they be sanctified, and that they may be with Him in glory, and that they may have the love in them that God has for them. Really, the fact that God's final words are of love for His people and His church blows me away. I shouldn't be surprised, though. God is love, and Jesus is God in the flesh. Also, it's not just any prayer--not just a conversation between a father and a son. Jesus is taking on an ere of authority in this prayer. He has the power to pray on behalf of these people He loves so much and He knows His Father has the power to see it through.
This is how I want to pray. I can pray for myself, sometimes even beg God to do things my way (and a lot of times I do), but I hope that when the time comes that I have little time on earth I spend my prayers to pray for those I love. Jesus spent verse after verse in John 17 praying for others. He prayed a short prayer of personal anguish and need in Matthew, but the majority of His words were for others.
I have to make it a personal goal to remember this. When I pray I don't want it to be repetitive requests for myself (although sometimes I do need to pray for myself), but prayers for others. From talking to my mom about her prayer life and just observing how she prays I have come to realize that prayers are more powerful when you're praying for others. I know I personally want to have a powerful prayer life, so that I can have those intimate, personal moments with God as well as interceding on behalf of others.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Hi. My Name Is Rachel...
It's true what they say about men and women. Maybe men aren't from Mars, and women aren't from Venus (although it makes for a close shave), but the two counterparts of humanity are so different they may as well be on different sides of the universe!
For instance, something Morrel says to me, or something I say to him may be the same word or phrase, but we understand it completely opposite. I'm not one to steal, so I won't. I do very much like a book called Love & Respect, though, so I will just paraphrase a great example.
He says: " I have nothing to wear!" (jerking a hanger off the closet rod). What he's really saying: "You never do any laundry!"
I say: "I have nothing to wear!" (throwing clothes into the floor from the dresser). What I really mean: "I'm so fat nothing fits!"
Bottom line is we speak a different language, women and men. Something to do with the chromosomes that make us who we are also makes us understand things in a certain way. This is an area I have had to grow in lately. I'd say in the last 2 years God has opened my eyes to my failures as a wife, and strengthened me enough to implement change. It is important to make a change when you realize you can do better.
"Hi. My name is Rachel, and I disrespect my husband." There, I said it. The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one. Notice I didn't say "I do not respect my husband". The fact is that I do respect him--very much. That doesn't change the fact that I very often disrespect him. By the words I say, the way I say them, the gestures I make, and the general things I do I can paint a shade of harmony in my marriage, or I can paint the red of anger. And when Papa ain't happy, ain't nobody happy (yea, that works both ways as well).
It is something that men feel but rarely say: I NEED RESPECT!
It's something women feel, but rarely say: I RESPECT YOU!
I decided that it was time to tell my husband that I respect him. It's funny that when I started thinking about respect and how I respect him I was perplexed, because I knew I did respect him, but I didn't rightly know for what. So I used a white board we have on our refrigerator and started writing him notes everyday or every other day--reasons why I respect him. It was something he did that day, or maybe around that time, or something big that just blew me away. It's funny, the more I thought about it, the more reasons I came up with to respect my husband. Over time I realized that there was very little reason to disrespect him, and that even the slightest disrespect was unloving.
Unloving.
Now there's a term a woman can understand. I am genetically made up to nurture and love everyone, but by showing this disrespect for my husband, I was failing to show him love. That is a big pill to swallow for a wife. You never want to realize that you aren't loving toward your husband. Because we know how it feels to be treated "unloving", and it hurts. The fact of the matter is, men need to feel respected and women need to feel loved.
Paul knew this fact almost 2000 years ago when he wrote in a letter to the Ephesians: "Nevertheless let each one of you in particular so love his own wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband" (5:33).
I pray every marriage can be strengthened by this realization, that wives' eyes will be opened to this revelation that has been available to us all for centuries in scripture that we have failed to read. Just think about how much you need to feel loved. That is how much your husband needs to feel respected.
For instance, something Morrel says to me, or something I say to him may be the same word or phrase, but we understand it completely opposite. I'm not one to steal, so I won't. I do very much like a book called Love & Respect, though, so I will just paraphrase a great example.
He says: " I have nothing to wear!" (jerking a hanger off the closet rod). What he's really saying: "You never do any laundry!"
I say: "I have nothing to wear!" (throwing clothes into the floor from the dresser). What I really mean: "I'm so fat nothing fits!"
Bottom line is we speak a different language, women and men. Something to do with the chromosomes that make us who we are also makes us understand things in a certain way. This is an area I have had to grow in lately. I'd say in the last 2 years God has opened my eyes to my failures as a wife, and strengthened me enough to implement change. It is important to make a change when you realize you can do better.
"Hi. My name is Rachel, and I disrespect my husband." There, I said it. The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one. Notice I didn't say "I do not respect my husband". The fact is that I do respect him--very much. That doesn't change the fact that I very often disrespect him. By the words I say, the way I say them, the gestures I make, and the general things I do I can paint a shade of harmony in my marriage, or I can paint the red of anger. And when Papa ain't happy, ain't nobody happy (yea, that works both ways as well).
It is something that men feel but rarely say: I NEED RESPECT!
It's something women feel, but rarely say: I RESPECT YOU!
I decided that it was time to tell my husband that I respect him. It's funny that when I started thinking about respect and how I respect him I was perplexed, because I knew I did respect him, but I didn't rightly know for what. So I used a white board we have on our refrigerator and started writing him notes everyday or every other day--reasons why I respect him. It was something he did that day, or maybe around that time, or something big that just blew me away. It's funny, the more I thought about it, the more reasons I came up with to respect my husband. Over time I realized that there was very little reason to disrespect him, and that even the slightest disrespect was unloving.
Unloving.
Now there's a term a woman can understand. I am genetically made up to nurture and love everyone, but by showing this disrespect for my husband, I was failing to show him love. That is a big pill to swallow for a wife. You never want to realize that you aren't loving toward your husband. Because we know how it feels to be treated "unloving", and it hurts. The fact of the matter is, men need to feel respected and women need to feel loved.
Paul knew this fact almost 2000 years ago when he wrote in a letter to the Ephesians: "Nevertheless let each one of you in particular so love his own wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband" (5:33).
I pray every marriage can be strengthened by this realization, that wives' eyes will be opened to this revelation that has been available to us all for centuries in scripture that we have failed to read. Just think about how much you need to feel loved. That is how much your husband needs to feel respected.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Faith and Politics (oxymoron?)
I'm just going to do what you're not supposed to do and write a blog about politics so close to a presidential election day.
I've been thinking a lot about this because like any responsible citizen I feel the duty to vote--especially every four years for the presidential election. I may not get to the polls every other year, but like many Americans, I make a point to get there to cast the presidential vote.
It's kind of ironic, really. It matters to me who is leading the country, so I vote. Yet, it doesn't matter enough to me to keep track of the major (and minor) issues throughout the years in between, unless the issue directly affects me. So then it comes to about August 2012, and I'm getting bombarded with articles, news outlets, facebook and twitter feeds swinging this way or that, DEBATES, propaganda, documentaries, etcetera, etcetera.
The problem is sometimes I find myself so far removed from an issue that I can't properly pick a side until I do some digging.
This isn't the only area that I have this problem.
In my own personal spiritual life I have chosen the leader. Every day I am faced with the decision--Who do I follow? Who gets my vote?
I choose God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.
It is an important decision to make, right? So I have to make it. I can't just bide my time on the fence. I have to pick one or the other. Someone will be leading, so if I don't choose, someone will.
So, I pick. God.
He will guide me, help me do the right thing, protect me from ultimate harm, bless me in various ways He promised, so I get a gold star for decision-making.
I put my gold star sticker on the back of my hand and go on with my life. Mostly my Bible sits quietly, closed, and I don't bother myself with the details (kind of like the political issues I try to ignore). Oh, sometimes something lands in my lap. A good book. A popular Bible study. So I study the prescribed ideal, exactly what the author wants me to study (kind of like the right-wing slant of FOX news telling the stories they want me to hear exactly how they want me to hear it).
It's interesting that during this time in between choosing the leaders in my life (both spiritually and politically), I end up letting a lot of people lead me around by the ear, leaving me unable to form my own opinions about the real issues.
This is a really complex issue now that I'm trying to put it into words. Plain and simple, I need to take charge of my life--my spiritual life and my political life, as well as every other facet of my life.
It's not just my problem though! I see people all the time who get something in the mail from a religious organization, read through it, and then adhere to the prescribed doctrine therein.
I see people on my facebook and twitter feeds that see a movie or a news story, a doctored photograph or audio recording of a candidate or politician and prescribe to the doctrine therein.
The truth is I am proud to be an American citizen, and I need to also be a proud voter and active in the issues that make America America.
I am also and foremost a proud Christian, and I need to also be a proud disciple, leader, and Christian example--not just when a religious debate comes up on facebook--but all the time.
Form my own opinions.
Learn my own viewpoint.
Study study study.
Then maybe I can teach someone else something too.
I've been thinking a lot about this because like any responsible citizen I feel the duty to vote--especially every four years for the presidential election. I may not get to the polls every other year, but like many Americans, I make a point to get there to cast the presidential vote.
It's kind of ironic, really. It matters to me who is leading the country, so I vote. Yet, it doesn't matter enough to me to keep track of the major (and minor) issues throughout the years in between, unless the issue directly affects me. So then it comes to about August 2012, and I'm getting bombarded with articles, news outlets, facebook and twitter feeds swinging this way or that, DEBATES, propaganda, documentaries, etcetera, etcetera.
The problem is sometimes I find myself so far removed from an issue that I can't properly pick a side until I do some digging.
This isn't the only area that I have this problem.
In my own personal spiritual life I have chosen the leader. Every day I am faced with the decision--Who do I follow? Who gets my vote?
I choose God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.
It is an important decision to make, right? So I have to make it. I can't just bide my time on the fence. I have to pick one or the other. Someone will be leading, so if I don't choose, someone will.
So, I pick. God.
He will guide me, help me do the right thing, protect me from ultimate harm, bless me in various ways He promised, so I get a gold star for decision-making.
I put my gold star sticker on the back of my hand and go on with my life. Mostly my Bible sits quietly, closed, and I don't bother myself with the details (kind of like the political issues I try to ignore). Oh, sometimes something lands in my lap. A good book. A popular Bible study. So I study the prescribed ideal, exactly what the author wants me to study (kind of like the right-wing slant of FOX news telling the stories they want me to hear exactly how they want me to hear it).
It's interesting that during this time in between choosing the leaders in my life (both spiritually and politically), I end up letting a lot of people lead me around by the ear, leaving me unable to form my own opinions about the real issues.
This is a really complex issue now that I'm trying to put it into words. Plain and simple, I need to take charge of my life--my spiritual life and my political life, as well as every other facet of my life.
It's not just my problem though! I see people all the time who get something in the mail from a religious organization, read through it, and then adhere to the prescribed doctrine therein.
I see people on my facebook and twitter feeds that see a movie or a news story, a doctored photograph or audio recording of a candidate or politician and prescribe to the doctrine therein.
The truth is I am proud to be an American citizen, and I need to also be a proud voter and active in the issues that make America America.
I am also and foremost a proud Christian, and I need to also be a proud disciple, leader, and Christian example--not just when a religious debate comes up on facebook--but all the time.
Form my own opinions.
Learn my own viewpoint.
Study study study.
Then maybe I can teach someone else something too.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Where Have All the Men Gone?
I read an article today that mentioned a quote by Australian activist Irina Dunn in which she quips: "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle." Unfortunately this particular saying has become a slogan or battle cry for women's liberation (I use this term with a cringe) in Australia and in other places in the world. Sitting here on my couch in the quiet of the morning I wonder if these women really listen to what it is they're saying. Obviously by definition we don't need anyone--at least not in a human capacity. I don't need my husband anymore than a fish needs a bicycle. I do, however, need him as much as a fish needs another fish to procreate. When my two boys play and giggle, looking up at me with their Daddy's eyes, I have a hard time imagining life without them. And yes, I needed him for the act of love that created them.
I don't think the issue we as women have is with men. I have been reading a book by Lisa Bevere called Fight Like a Girl in which she investigates the gender confusion of women today. She asserts that women don't like women, don't like being women, and don't like men simply because they are blessed to not be women! I am not too far in the reading, but I am loving it, because I have never realized the complete upheaval women are in as a societal whole, as individual persons, and as mothers of a race.
Can we continue to mother a race without men to father them? Some say, yes. There is enough frozen sperm to keep the race alive if all the men were to drop dead at this instant. There are enough women to take care of a race of young boys and girls. After all, who needs the men around to teach them to play in dirt and burp, right? Why do we need men to teach our boys to be boys? If we women were left to the child-rearing as many would hope, we would have armies of young boys sweeping and cooking, carrying laundry baskets, and taking out the trash. Our little girls would be carrying baby dolls around on their hips, reading, learning to play piano and sing, and learning how to be...wives?
Is it possible that we as women are trapped in a societal role of womanhood that we don't even like, and we wish something better for our own daughters, yet we advocate this role given us? I don't need a man and neither does any woman that may be reading this. I can't imagine a woman that likes to be alone, though. It's interesting that even though we don't need men, we still date them, marry them, or live with them, have babies with them, and love them--all the while reminding them that we don't need them. This article I read today explained the problem that exists with this mindset and arrangement. If we as women let men "off the hook" when it comes to earning money, raising children, being the leader of the home, what will happen?
They will be happy to oblige! Fifty years ago men would not be caught dead in their "man cave" with a video game controller in one hand and a beer in the other in the middle of the day, unshaven and unkempt. The men got up with the sun, donned their respective uniforms, and earned an honest wage, came home and relaxed, spent time with children, taught their boys to build things, fix things, fear dad, and fear God. Fifty years ago they didn't have women standing an arm's reach away saying "you don't have to, just let me".
Many women today let the men "off the hook" and then expect them to pick up the slack out of consideration for us. Why would they do that? If I tell my husband that I want to keep the house, and then silently expect him to help with dishes after dinner, we are both going to be disappointed. I will be disappointed while doing dishes every night, and he will be disappointed because of the silent treatment he gets every night.
I don't think I've ever thought of the male gender role much. Since James Standish got me thinking about it today after reading his article "Filling the Father Gap" I have realized more than women need men, men actually need women in a more urgent capacity than we realize. Think about it, in Genesis 2, when God created Adam, He said "'It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him'...And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall on Adam, and he slept; and He took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in its place. Then the rib which the Lord God had taken from man He made into a woman, and He brought her to the man. And Adam said; 'This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man'...Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh" (verses 18, 21-24).
As I read these verses my attention is drawn to the fact that Adam was created first and God--the Almighty and Magnificent Creator of all things--saw that it wasn't good for him to be alone. It sounds like to me that God saw a need, and fulfilled it for Adam. Adam needed someone to keep him company, and God created the perfect companion for him. He didn't create Eve out of dirt as He did Adam. He instead took a rib from Adam, making Eve part of him. Without Eve, Adam was not whole, was he? You could even say that Adam needed Eve, perhaps in the same way I think men still need women. It is this deep need that is causing the turmoil in gender roles today. Women are pushing the men away, saying "we don't need you", when it's the men that need the women. Without the women, men have little purpose. God has commanded the men to leave their mothers and fathers and be joined with a wife. God created this codependency in Eden, and I believe it still exists. When we STEAL the men's role they are lost, and end up wearing sweat pants in a basement with an X Box and a bag of chips. We steal their Biblical manhood, and then we're surprised when we have to toil away at a job to make ends meet, clean up after everyone in the house, make the parent/teacher conferences, take care of the kids, and take care of bills. Where have the men gone?
It seems the men are free and the women are in tears, juggling cinder blocks with arms outstretched in all directions wondering where the men went. If we truly didn't need men, we would be able to do it all, but we can't. By limiting men's role in our homes and lives we end up limiting ourselves. Women have a nature altogether different than men and the two compliment each other.
I'm not sure how or when women will become comfortable in their own skin and role, but I hope I raise young men that can see women for their splendor and grace, and never sacrifice their own roles for the sake of fitting into a societal mold. When it seems likes it's too late to fix our own generation we can turn to teaching our own children a better way--but this too requires the mother and the father.
I don't think the issue we as women have is with men. I have been reading a book by Lisa Bevere called Fight Like a Girl in which she investigates the gender confusion of women today. She asserts that women don't like women, don't like being women, and don't like men simply because they are blessed to not be women! I am not too far in the reading, but I am loving it, because I have never realized the complete upheaval women are in as a societal whole, as individual persons, and as mothers of a race.
Can we continue to mother a race without men to father them? Some say, yes. There is enough frozen sperm to keep the race alive if all the men were to drop dead at this instant. There are enough women to take care of a race of young boys and girls. After all, who needs the men around to teach them to play in dirt and burp, right? Why do we need men to teach our boys to be boys? If we women were left to the child-rearing as many would hope, we would have armies of young boys sweeping and cooking, carrying laundry baskets, and taking out the trash. Our little girls would be carrying baby dolls around on their hips, reading, learning to play piano and sing, and learning how to be...wives?
Is it possible that we as women are trapped in a societal role of womanhood that we don't even like, and we wish something better for our own daughters, yet we advocate this role given us? I don't need a man and neither does any woman that may be reading this. I can't imagine a woman that likes to be alone, though. It's interesting that even though we don't need men, we still date them, marry them, or live with them, have babies with them, and love them--all the while reminding them that we don't need them. This article I read today explained the problem that exists with this mindset and arrangement. If we as women let men "off the hook" when it comes to earning money, raising children, being the leader of the home, what will happen?
They will be happy to oblige! Fifty years ago men would not be caught dead in their "man cave" with a video game controller in one hand and a beer in the other in the middle of the day, unshaven and unkempt. The men got up with the sun, donned their respective uniforms, and earned an honest wage, came home and relaxed, spent time with children, taught their boys to build things, fix things, fear dad, and fear God. Fifty years ago they didn't have women standing an arm's reach away saying "you don't have to, just let me".
Many women today let the men "off the hook" and then expect them to pick up the slack out of consideration for us. Why would they do that? If I tell my husband that I want to keep the house, and then silently expect him to help with dishes after dinner, we are both going to be disappointed. I will be disappointed while doing dishes every night, and he will be disappointed because of the silent treatment he gets every night.
I don't think I've ever thought of the male gender role much. Since James Standish got me thinking about it today after reading his article "Filling the Father Gap" I have realized more than women need men, men actually need women in a more urgent capacity than we realize. Think about it, in Genesis 2, when God created Adam, He said "'It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him'...And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall on Adam, and he slept; and He took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in its place. Then the rib which the Lord God had taken from man He made into a woman, and He brought her to the man. And Adam said; 'This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man'...Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh" (verses 18, 21-24).
As I read these verses my attention is drawn to the fact that Adam was created first and God--the Almighty and Magnificent Creator of all things--saw that it wasn't good for him to be alone. It sounds like to me that God saw a need, and fulfilled it for Adam. Adam needed someone to keep him company, and God created the perfect companion for him. He didn't create Eve out of dirt as He did Adam. He instead took a rib from Adam, making Eve part of him. Without Eve, Adam was not whole, was he? You could even say that Adam needed Eve, perhaps in the same way I think men still need women. It is this deep need that is causing the turmoil in gender roles today. Women are pushing the men away, saying "we don't need you", when it's the men that need the women. Without the women, men have little purpose. God has commanded the men to leave their mothers and fathers and be joined with a wife. God created this codependency in Eden, and I believe it still exists. When we STEAL the men's role they are lost, and end up wearing sweat pants in a basement with an X Box and a bag of chips. We steal their Biblical manhood, and then we're surprised when we have to toil away at a job to make ends meet, clean up after everyone in the house, make the parent/teacher conferences, take care of the kids, and take care of bills. Where have the men gone?
It seems the men are free and the women are in tears, juggling cinder blocks with arms outstretched in all directions wondering where the men went. If we truly didn't need men, we would be able to do it all, but we can't. By limiting men's role in our homes and lives we end up limiting ourselves. Women have a nature altogether different than men and the two compliment each other.
I'm not sure how or when women will become comfortable in their own skin and role, but I hope I raise young men that can see women for their splendor and grace, and never sacrifice their own roles for the sake of fitting into a societal mold. When it seems likes it's too late to fix our own generation we can turn to teaching our own children a better way--but this too requires the mother and the father.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Memorial Day
So today we got up and ready early and went to the National Cemetery in Mounds City, Illinois to visit Morrel's grandpa's grave. He was a WW II vet and my husband's hero--the reason he joined the service--and I'm glad we finally went to his grave sight. It was also nice to see all the flags waving high, and the flags placed at each grave, the several families there to pay their respects, and the guy (who I assume is a volunteer) helping people find graves, giving out free water, and shuttling people to graves all while enduring 95 degree weather (at least that's what it was at 10 am). It takes people like that to make something as sad as visiting a cemetery a little better, because you realize there are other people who care about that side of Memorial Day.
We all know what Memorial Day has come to mean, yes? Barbeques, backyard pools, rope swings into lakes or maybe jet skis, beer and wine coolers (for some), or just spending time with family. But why do we even have this holiday off? There are several stories as to how it started. They say organized groups of women began placing wreaths of flowers on the graves of fallen soldiers as early as the Civil War. And there are several states that would like to take credit for the start of the holiday. The point is, though, that the holiday was started because people had a common interest, a need to fulfill, and it may have taken a day off to accomplish it. For instance, when I was younger I remember my grandma would buy arrangements and visit the graves of my uncle and grandpa every year on Memorial Day. Families all over still do this I think. But between the hotdogs and hamburgers the view has been clouded. It's almost like America needed a holiday to let them know when summer starts and Memorial Day was at a prime location on the calendar. Pools don't open until Memorial Day. The fashion world says women can't wear black after Memorial Day. Retailers say we need to save 40 % at the Memorial Day sales. On and on it goes.
I am not condemning. For years all Memorial Day has meant to me is that it's the weekend our family goes to the boat races and end up with a sunburn on Tuesday. I think that has changed for me though. Because although we did get together with family and barbeque today, we also got to visit an extraordinary grave in a cemetery filled with hundreds of identical stones. It is extraordinary because the guy that did a lot of form the man my husband grew into has been laid to rest there. I am one who believes in the Biblical death, meaning when someone dies they rest (sleep) here on earth until Christ returns, but there is something to be said for visiting the dead in respect, and other gestures, like putting up flags at banks, and in cemeteries for the holiday weekend. This year I realized that this is something I want to teach my children and for them to remember. Memorial Day is not just the doorway to summer. It was started and observed to remember those who have lost their lives in combat for this country. Shouldn't we do our best to remember them--whether or not we agree with whatever war we are currently involved in, whether or not they we active duty, National Guard, or reserve, whether they were Army, Navy, or Air Force. These guys died for something other than themselves, for something they believed in, whether or not you do. It makes me proud to live in this country where we have such a holiday. So I hope people continue to remember the real reason behind it.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Ministry Is...[4]
...Never Finished
When the harvest is ready in autumn there is no time to rest--not only for the farmers, but everyone involved. A man from our church works on barges on the Mississippi River and he will tell you, he works 7 days a week during harvest season. Why? Because once the farming is done, something must be done with the harvest. The produce, the grain, it will all spoil and ruin if it isn't put to use. Some will be used to plant more for the coming year and some will be used to feed others. Either way, the harvest can't be wasted.
We mustn't forget this truth. Jesus used farming as an analogy for ministry for a reason. He knew that centuries after his death we would still need this counsel. The harvest must be used or it will waste. So when we have someone in our "field" ready to "harvest", do we stick them in the "storehouse" (church/record book) and go about our farming elsewhere? What do we do with these new believers?
What do farmers do with their produce? Well, they live off some of it for sure. The rest they sell. It can be used to plant future crops, or to feed others, or to make other products for purchase. The point is, none of it goes to waste. That portion that feeds the farmer's family and others can represent the new Christians joining the community of believers, be it a church or other organization of believers. The portion that goes on to plant a future crop can represent those that become leaders or workers, ministering to others with seeds here and there. The final portion that goes to produce other commodities for purchase can represents the many many spiritual gifts that new Christians have to offer a church or personal ministry.
The important thing to remember about these portions of crop is that it cannot do these things alone. The farmer must cook the food to feed the family. The companies must prepare the food for sales. The agriculturists must prepare the produce and seeds for future planting. And the manufacturers must break down certain produce items to create chemicals for household items, etc to sell. The harvest does not do these things on its own. If it was left to do anything on its own once harvested, the whole lot would be wasted. And when we as ministers leave new Christians to their own devices once they're "harvested" and they fall away from church just as quickly as they come in.
Isn't it the same sort of waste the farmer would experience if he left the bail of cotton in the field, or the wheat in the bushels in the barn? Jesus did not entrust to us the task of The Great Commission to do it halfway. Jesus gave us a clear picture of how to so this enormous job. Farming has worked the same way for centuries, and I'm certain that even as Jesus spoke those words to His disciples there was a farmer in his mind doing all parts of this work in a field for his livelihood. We should be working just as hard, because it's the livelihood of Jesus we're talking about.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Ministry Is...[3]
...A well-planned endeavor.
In Luke Chapter 8 Jesus tells a parable of a sower. He says "A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown." (verses 5-8). Later in the chapter He actually gives the meaning to this parable: This is the meaning of the parable: The seed is the word of God. Those along the path are the ones who hear, and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. Those on the rocky ground are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away. The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature. But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop." (verses 11-15). We know from other verses that if we are to be ministers of God, we are to be harvesters, toiling in the fields of potential believers to bring in the harvest for God.
If you know anything about farming, you know that it's a lifestyle. Now, I know very little about farming, but I know that much. I live in rural Southeast Missouri where farmers can be seen on the road or in their fields in giant farm equipment at all ours of day or night. The fact is that the harvest is only part of that lifestyle. What a lot of people don't know is that it takes time to get the soil ready for planting, never mind harvesting. Certain crops grow best in certain chemical/acid conditions in the soil. Some crops grow best in lower basins where moisture collects. Other crops thrive with direct sunlight and daily precipitation. Obviously there are certain parts of the country--or the world--where certain crops grow best.
You've heard the saying "No Farmers, No Food" or seen a bumper sticker that reads something like it, I'm sure. Well, it is true of course. If you knew how many household products aside from food contain corn you'd be surprised. The fact is that we need those farmers for our survival. So, it's fitting that Jesus used such an analogy for his parable. We need to be soul-seeking field workers, just as a farmer needs to produce crops (for their livelihood and survival). They need to have a successful harvest...or else. They could lose their home, their farm, their future crop, their future meals. So they put their blood, sweat, and tears into their work. The plan for the crop of this year may have been in the works 5 years ago. They plan when and where to plant which seed. They plan how much and how often they will fertilize, which fertilizer to use, which irrigation system is best, how often to irrigate. Even a decision like leaving a tree to grow in the middle of their field could affect their crop in 10 years.
I think we can agree that farmers do a lot of work for their harvest. They don't start with the harvest or the plant; they start with the soil. And they work with it until it is right, and then they take care of seeds until they are plants, and then they harvest the final product and send it on its way. The farmer does that. But I think we can also agree that the farmer has to depend on nature to do it's part as well. I say nature but more specifically I mean God. Farmers do all they can to bring in a good harvest, but they have to depend on God to protect their work, to feed their plants, and protect their crops from natural disasters that may destroy the whole field.
This is another way in which Jesus chose this parable perfectly! As ministers we must work, and I mean work hard for our harvest. It doesn't start with stumbling onto a field of perfectly ripe fruits and veggies. It starts with the soil, our environment. If my church isn't healthy enough to grow believers for God, then it needs some more work. If my home isn't inviting to my neighbors, then it needs more work. If my heart isn't open to sharing with others, then it needs more work. This parable that Jesus is sharing speaks through generations. He knew that even today, 2000 years across time, farmers would exist--I mean, of course they would. A man's gotta eat, right?
In Luke Chapter 8 Jesus tells a parable of a sower. He says "A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown." (verses 5-8). Later in the chapter He actually gives the meaning to this parable: This is the meaning of the parable: The seed is the word of God. Those along the path are the ones who hear, and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. Those on the rocky ground are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away. The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature. But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop." (verses 11-15). We know from other verses that if we are to be ministers of God, we are to be harvesters, toiling in the fields of potential believers to bring in the harvest for God.
If you know anything about farming, you know that it's a lifestyle. Now, I know very little about farming, but I know that much. I live in rural Southeast Missouri where farmers can be seen on the road or in their fields in giant farm equipment at all ours of day or night. The fact is that the harvest is only part of that lifestyle. What a lot of people don't know is that it takes time to get the soil ready for planting, never mind harvesting. Certain crops grow best in certain chemical/acid conditions in the soil. Some crops grow best in lower basins where moisture collects. Other crops thrive with direct sunlight and daily precipitation. Obviously there are certain parts of the country--or the world--where certain crops grow best.
You've heard the saying "No Farmers, No Food" or seen a bumper sticker that reads something like it, I'm sure. Well, it is true of course. If you knew how many household products aside from food contain corn you'd be surprised. The fact is that we need those farmers for our survival. So, it's fitting that Jesus used such an analogy for his parable. We need to be soul-seeking field workers, just as a farmer needs to produce crops (for their livelihood and survival). They need to have a successful harvest...or else. They could lose their home, their farm, their future crop, their future meals. So they put their blood, sweat, and tears into their work. The plan for the crop of this year may have been in the works 5 years ago. They plan when and where to plant which seed. They plan how much and how often they will fertilize, which fertilizer to use, which irrigation system is best, how often to irrigate. Even a decision like leaving a tree to grow in the middle of their field could affect their crop in 10 years.
I think we can agree that farmers do a lot of work for their harvest. They don't start with the harvest or the plant; they start with the soil. And they work with it until it is right, and then they take care of seeds until they are plants, and then they harvest the final product and send it on its way. The farmer does that. But I think we can also agree that the farmer has to depend on nature to do it's part as well. I say nature but more specifically I mean God. Farmers do all they can to bring in a good harvest, but they have to depend on God to protect their work, to feed their plants, and protect their crops from natural disasters that may destroy the whole field.
This is another way in which Jesus chose this parable perfectly! As ministers we must work, and I mean work hard for our harvest. It doesn't start with stumbling onto a field of perfectly ripe fruits and veggies. It starts with the soil, our environment. If my church isn't healthy enough to grow believers for God, then it needs some more work. If my home isn't inviting to my neighbors, then it needs more work. If my heart isn't open to sharing with others, then it needs more work. This parable that Jesus is sharing speaks through generations. He knew that even today, 2000 years across time, farmers would exist--I mean, of course they would. A man's gotta eat, right?
Friday, May 11, 2012
Ministry Is...[2]
...Open 24 hours.
We have a Hucks gas station around the corner from our house, and it says in big painted letters on the side of the building "OPEN 24 HOURS". So one night shortly after we moved to the area I went to Hucks in the middle of the night. I don't remember why I was out so late, or what was so important that I drove the 2 blocks to the station. What I do remember is that when I got there they were closed. Lights were on, the employee was inside, but doors were locked. A sign taped on the door said "Closed from 1-2 am for accounting". Imagine my surprise. Could it be that Hucks meant to paint "OPEN 23 HOURS" on the side of their building? I don't think so. I'm pretty certain that they wanted to advertise they are open 24 hours, knowing full-well they intend to close for one hour every night. What if I desperately needed something from Hucks at 1:02 am? What if it were life and death?
I remember when I was about 15 years old and I woke up with the most excruciating pain in my head. I felt like the entire world was echoing in my skull and just screamed hysterically through our very quiet house. My mom being a nurse practitioner knew immediately what was wrong. A bug had crawled into my ear and was playing marching band on my ear drum. She put oil in it to kill it and then we piled into the car and headed to the ER. About 45 minutes later, we stumbled sleepily into their doors in PJs and flip-flops and it was as if they were waiting for us. A nice receptionist waiting behind a desk with crisp white papers waiting to be signed, bright lights lit every corner, smiling doctors and nurses. They went right to work.
Now what would have happened had the ER kept hours like Hucks? Well, I would have had to live with the bug in my ear until Mom could fish it out, but some scenarios would not end so nicely.
In my morning devotional The Chosen by Dwight K Nelson I read something along these lines yesterday. The author compared church to an ER, and it really hit home with me. Our churches should be centers for healing. Sanctuaries, houses of prayer, pretty buildings, and hospitals! Jesus was the Healer, and he expects us to heal the broken hearts that he sends our way, exactly as they come. The staff at the local ER was not the least bit surprised when I showed up in the middle of the night in my PJs--no more than any one would be surprised to walk into an ER and see crying babies, runny noses, blood, vomit, stinky air, and high tension to top it off. These are things we expect to see in an ER when we walk in, because people come to it broken and sick.
So why does it seem churches expect people to walk in off the street as if they aren't broken and sick, in need of a healer? We'd just rather they come in and walk straight up to the podium in khakis and polo, grab a guitar and sing praises. Am I right? But that isn't how people find us. Some people may wander into church with unkempt hair, they may smell like alcohol or have drugs in their system. They may be angry, hurting. They may not have a penny to their names. Yet Jesus expects us to meet them at the door with a bright smile just like the receptionist at the ER. Jesus expects us to be ready for the brokenhearted just as the doctors and nurses are ready and waiting for their patients. They are prepared; they are trained; and they are willing. Any medical professional will tell you that you have to be a certain type of person to work in the ER. That's because you have to be willing to do the dirty work--the hard work.
Jesus was willing to do the dirty work. He repeatedly reached for sinners. He approached them as they were and then started the healing. If He had sat and waited patiently and happily for them to be healed before meeting Him, would they have come at all?
I now understand why it is so vitally important to accept, love, and encourage people just as they appear in our door.
And if we say we're 24 hours, we had better be.
We have a Hucks gas station around the corner from our house, and it says in big painted letters on the side of the building "OPEN 24 HOURS". So one night shortly after we moved to the area I went to Hucks in the middle of the night. I don't remember why I was out so late, or what was so important that I drove the 2 blocks to the station. What I do remember is that when I got there they were closed. Lights were on, the employee was inside, but doors were locked. A sign taped on the door said "Closed from 1-2 am for accounting". Imagine my surprise. Could it be that Hucks meant to paint "OPEN 23 HOURS" on the side of their building? I don't think so. I'm pretty certain that they wanted to advertise they are open 24 hours, knowing full-well they intend to close for one hour every night. What if I desperately needed something from Hucks at 1:02 am? What if it were life and death?
I remember when I was about 15 years old and I woke up with the most excruciating pain in my head. I felt like the entire world was echoing in my skull and just screamed hysterically through our very quiet house. My mom being a nurse practitioner knew immediately what was wrong. A bug had crawled into my ear and was playing marching band on my ear drum. She put oil in it to kill it and then we piled into the car and headed to the ER. About 45 minutes later, we stumbled sleepily into their doors in PJs and flip-flops and it was as if they were waiting for us. A nice receptionist waiting behind a desk with crisp white papers waiting to be signed, bright lights lit every corner, smiling doctors and nurses. They went right to work.
Now what would have happened had the ER kept hours like Hucks? Well, I would have had to live with the bug in my ear until Mom could fish it out, but some scenarios would not end so nicely.
In my morning devotional The Chosen by Dwight K Nelson I read something along these lines yesterday. The author compared church to an ER, and it really hit home with me. Our churches should be centers for healing. Sanctuaries, houses of prayer, pretty buildings, and hospitals! Jesus was the Healer, and he expects us to heal the broken hearts that he sends our way, exactly as they come. The staff at the local ER was not the least bit surprised when I showed up in the middle of the night in my PJs--no more than any one would be surprised to walk into an ER and see crying babies, runny noses, blood, vomit, stinky air, and high tension to top it off. These are things we expect to see in an ER when we walk in, because people come to it broken and sick.
So why does it seem churches expect people to walk in off the street as if they aren't broken and sick, in need of a healer? We'd just rather they come in and walk straight up to the podium in khakis and polo, grab a guitar and sing praises. Am I right? But that isn't how people find us. Some people may wander into church with unkempt hair, they may smell like alcohol or have drugs in their system. They may be angry, hurting. They may not have a penny to their names. Yet Jesus expects us to meet them at the door with a bright smile just like the receptionist at the ER. Jesus expects us to be ready for the brokenhearted just as the doctors and nurses are ready and waiting for their patients. They are prepared; they are trained; and they are willing. Any medical professional will tell you that you have to be a certain type of person to work in the ER. That's because you have to be willing to do the dirty work--the hard work.
Jesus was willing to do the dirty work. He repeatedly reached for sinners. He approached them as they were and then started the healing. If He had sat and waited patiently and happily for them to be healed before meeting Him, would they have come at all?
I now understand why it is so vitally important to accept, love, and encourage people just as they appear in our door.
And if we say we're 24 hours, we had better be.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Ministry Is...
...the MEANS to an end.
When Jesus set forth the "Great Commission" for His return to Heaven, the disciples had all they needed to do the work--and so do we. The passage so very well-known as the "Great Commission" is Matthew 28:18-20 "Then Jesus came to them and said, 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.'"
Rightly named commission because in issuing such an order, Jesus granted the disciples the authority to go forth in His name and finish his work. The definition of commission includes granting authority for a particular action or function. When leaders issue commissions they make certain that all the facts and resources are present to get the job done. For instance, in the military when a commander issue such a command, it is accompanied by other instructions to finish the task. When the President of the United States issues such commands, it probably comes with a file which includes all of the facts needed to get the job done. One major problem in ministry is that we take this "Great Commission" and make an island out of it. We assume that all we need to know is in this passage--disciple, baptize, teach. We fail to read the "case file" accompanying the command--The Bible. We aren't utilizing the provided up-link to our Commander--prayer.
We as Christians know what we want to do. We know what we're supposed to do. However, it isn't always as easy to want to do the work. It's not easy to want to make the hard choices, take the hard road, take a precious hour out of our day for that debriefing required to complete the task assigned. My husband is in the Army National Guard, and he and his soldier buddies joke and complain about debriefings and what they call "death-by-PowerPoint". The fact is, that the military knows how to get things done. They know how to create leaders (disciple), recruit members (baptize), and follow rules (teach them to obey commandments). They have an age-old system that Jesus also trusted.
It may not be fun for soldiers to spend hour upon hour in a dark room with a projector and a monotone presenter, but it is worth it when the work is done and people are safe.
It may not be fun to wake up an hour before the kids everyday to spend some time in prayer and Bible study, but it is worth it when the work is done and people are safe.
Praise God for leaving us with the resources we need to do it!
When Jesus set forth the "Great Commission" for His return to Heaven, the disciples had all they needed to do the work--and so do we. The passage so very well-known as the "Great Commission" is Matthew 28:18-20 "Then Jesus came to them and said, 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.'"
Rightly named commission because in issuing such an order, Jesus granted the disciples the authority to go forth in His name and finish his work. The definition of commission includes granting authority for a particular action or function. When leaders issue commissions they make certain that all the facts and resources are present to get the job done. For instance, in the military when a commander issue such a command, it is accompanied by other instructions to finish the task. When the President of the United States issues such commands, it probably comes with a file which includes all of the facts needed to get the job done. One major problem in ministry is that we take this "Great Commission" and make an island out of it. We assume that all we need to know is in this passage--disciple, baptize, teach. We fail to read the "case file" accompanying the command--The Bible. We aren't utilizing the provided up-link to our Commander--prayer.
We as Christians know what we want to do. We know what we're supposed to do. However, it isn't always as easy to want to do the work. It's not easy to want to make the hard choices, take the hard road, take a precious hour out of our day for that debriefing required to complete the task assigned. My husband is in the Army National Guard, and he and his soldier buddies joke and complain about debriefings and what they call "death-by-PowerPoint". The fact is, that the military knows how to get things done. They know how to create leaders (disciple), recruit members (baptize), and follow rules (teach them to obey commandments). They have an age-old system that Jesus also trusted.
It may not be fun for soldiers to spend hour upon hour in a dark room with a projector and a monotone presenter, but it is worth it when the work is done and people are safe.
It may not be fun to wake up an hour before the kids everyday to spend some time in prayer and Bible study, but it is worth it when the work is done and people are safe.
Praise God for leaving us with the resources we need to do it!
Monday, May 7, 2012
We All Have Faith
Thanks to Netflix online streaming, I have been re-watching all my favorite ABC Family shows I watched years ago. A quote from Make It or Break It caught my attention today. When Peyson Keeler and her family are deciding for or against possibly-career-saving back surgery, her mother asks the surgeon how to have the kind of faith it takes to agree to the surgery. The surgeon says to her something like: you have plenty of faith...that it won't work.
That got me thinking--we all have faith, don't we? We all have faith that things will happen, good or bad. Some people are afraid of heights, driving, germs, the dark, etc. They are afraid because they have faith that things will go wrong. How their lives would be transformed if they would have faith that things will go right! Some people have complete faith in hell, but zero faith in heaven. Where does that faith come from?
Sometimes we need to adjust our focus, don't we? There is nothing worse than going through life fearing and dreading everything that could be magical. Next time I see a person afraid or pessimistic I will have to share this insight with them. Someone try and stop me! The assurance that comes with faith in God is worth sharing!
That got me thinking--we all have faith, don't we? We all have faith that things will happen, good or bad. Some people are afraid of heights, driving, germs, the dark, etc. They are afraid because they have faith that things will go wrong. How their lives would be transformed if they would have faith that things will go right! Some people have complete faith in hell, but zero faith in heaven. Where does that faith come from?
Sometimes we need to adjust our focus, don't we? There is nothing worse than going through life fearing and dreading everything that could be magical. Next time I see a person afraid or pessimistic I will have to share this insight with them. Someone try and stop me! The assurance that comes with faith in God is worth sharing!
Monday, April 30, 2012
Baby Food and The Bible
Since I found myself "with child" in December of 2008 with my first little one I have been getting bombarded with recommendations from all sides. Books, television, other moms, my mom, doctors, WIC ladies, lactation consultants, the list goes on and on... The research says that babies should be breastfed for best immunity health--for a year would be good, but 6 months would be GREAT, and if you can't do that, the first week is something to try for. Then there is the issue of formula--so many kinds, so many prices. How long do we do formula (or breast milk), and how do we introduce those other foods? I have heard that introducing cereal before 4 months causes obesity in childhood and adulthood later (actually I've heard this for 3 months, 4 months, 6 months, etc.). I had a pediatrician tell me that if a child is old enough to need cereal, it should not be put in a bottle. Some people skip cereal altogether as well as "baby food" and start with table food (which, ironically enough, I've never really heard anyone "frown" at this).
A person with no children would probably never bother with asking themselves these questions, but I have two children now, and I think more and more about this because my sons are so different. For instance, my oldest son was exclusively breastfed for 6 months, and we slowly introduced vegetables and then fruit week by week, one at the time, he was weaned from the breast at 12 months, and was also off the bottle, and pacifier at that time.
My young son was exclusively breastfed for 2 months, on formula for the rest, started solid food at 6 months (in no real order), and is now on table food at 11 months.
Both of my sons are equally healthy--meeting all the important milestones (also highly recommended from all sides)--so what gives? Is one of my sons going to be smarter, healthier, happier, than the other?
These questions are age-old. In fact, as I noticed today, the issue of babes and food is found in the Bible--and the issue was just as important.
Paul actually discussed this in 1 Corinthians (3:1-3): "And I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual people but as to carnal, as to babes in Christ. I fed you with milk and not with solid food; for until now you were not able to receive it, and even now you are still not able ; for you are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men?"
As a mother, I can totally get this analogy, and Paul is pretty brilliant for picking a comparison that would still be so important centuries later. After thinking about it, I realize that I have been missing this! When we go out as Christians and witness to others about God, we can't start with the things as deep as Sabbath or prophecy. We can't start out with smoking and diet. When we go out and witness to others about God we are to do just that.
Peter puts it similarly: "Therefore, laying aside all malice, all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and all evil speaking, as newborn babes, desire the pure milk of the word, that you may grow thereby, if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is gracious." Something a lot of people may not know is that infants before the age of 12 months don't need solid food at all. They receive all the essentials from that "pure milk" (breast milk and/or formula).
Following along with Peter and Paul's analogies, what is the "pure milk of the word"? In my opinion, this pure milk is the pure love of Jesus--his ministry and sacrifice. So why is it SO hard to start with this? It seems like we like the "ahh factor". We like to throw out big terms and big issues, and start a dis[argument]cussion. We like to push people, just like it seems we like to push babies to eat too soon/walk too soon/potty train too soon/grow up too soon. Peter and Paul saw this happening centuries ago, and I just figured it out!
[my apologies for the length...there will be a part 2]
A person with no children would probably never bother with asking themselves these questions, but I have two children now, and I think more and more about this because my sons are so different. For instance, my oldest son was exclusively breastfed for 6 months, and we slowly introduced vegetables and then fruit week by week, one at the time, he was weaned from the breast at 12 months, and was also off the bottle, and pacifier at that time.
My young son was exclusively breastfed for 2 months, on formula for the rest, started solid food at 6 months (in no real order), and is now on table food at 11 months.
Both of my sons are equally healthy--meeting all the important milestones (also highly recommended from all sides)--so what gives? Is one of my sons going to be smarter, healthier, happier, than the other?
These questions are age-old. In fact, as I noticed today, the issue of babes and food is found in the Bible--and the issue was just as important.
Paul actually discussed this in 1 Corinthians (3:1-3): "And I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual people but as to carnal, as to babes in Christ. I fed you with milk and not with solid food; for until now you were not able to receive it, and even now you are still not able ; for you are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men?"
As a mother, I can totally get this analogy, and Paul is pretty brilliant for picking a comparison that would still be so important centuries later. After thinking about it, I realize that I have been missing this! When we go out as Christians and witness to others about God, we can't start with the things as deep as Sabbath or prophecy. We can't start out with smoking and diet. When we go out and witness to others about God we are to do just that.
Peter puts it similarly: "Therefore, laying aside all malice, all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and all evil speaking, as newborn babes, desire the pure milk of the word, that you may grow thereby, if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is gracious." Something a lot of people may not know is that infants before the age of 12 months don't need solid food at all. They receive all the essentials from that "pure milk" (breast milk and/or formula).
Following along with Peter and Paul's analogies, what is the "pure milk of the word"? In my opinion, this pure milk is the pure love of Jesus--his ministry and sacrifice. So why is it SO hard to start with this? It seems like we like the "ahh factor". We like to throw out big terms and big issues, and start a dis[argument]cussion. We like to push people, just like it seems we like to push babies to eat too soon/walk too soon/potty train too soon/grow up too soon. Peter and Paul saw this happening centuries ago, and I just figured it out!
[my apologies for the length...there will be a part 2]
Thursday, April 26, 2012
A GOOD WEEK
It has been on my heart to serve others lately. In service to others, we have an opportunity to LOVE them as Jesus did. What better way is there to minister than the way of Jesus? He wrote the book on love, and I'm ready to read every page and share it with everybody! So this is my story:
Last Thursday, one week ago, we went to McDonald's to get some lunch (unhealthy and CHEAP) and this day we had very little money--I think around $20.
So as we came into the parking lot there was a man holding a sign "On the Road--Anything Will Help". Probably a high percentage of people would drive by, go into McDonald's, order Extra Value Meals, and never give him another thought. Instead, my awesome husband went over and invited him to eat lunch with us. He declined because he had already eaten, but he accepted $2 (which is all Morrel had in his wallet) and a handshake. We ate our Dollar Menu lunch and got our smiling boy a Happy Meal. Blessing #1.
On the same day I went to the bank to change our teams Relay for Life money into money orders. When I got back into my car, I sat and texted someone for a moment, and when I looked up there was a man speaking to me through my window, but I couldn't hear him. I cautiously cracked my window (because of the money order I just got that was still blank), and he asked if I could help him get a taxi to Carbondale (about 7 miles away). He said it's about $17, but he didn't expect that from me, but could I help. He had with him a young girl, about my son's age, in a stroller, in a long sleeve shirt, sweaty, sippy-cup in hand, and crying. He said his car broke down and he couldn't afford it to be fixed, or to have it towed home, so he didn't have a ride home, and his car was at the wrecker lot. Well I didn't ask any questions. He told me everything I needed to know--he needed help, and I had $5 on me. Blessing #2.
After our McDonald's Dollar Menu lunch, the friendly vet, and the man with the baby and stroller, this happy couple had $2 left to our name. We were flat broke, but very happy that we were able to help.
In the last 3 days...
...Someone has GIVEN me a no-strings-attached $100 bill to buy groceries.
...Morrel FOUND a $20 bill on the ground.
...I FOUND a $5 bill on my sons bedroom floor.
...An unexplained $57 was loaded to my Walmart gift card that never left my wallet.
Blessings #3, 4, 5, & 6
Today I had a Relay for Life team meeting in another city--not a nearby city. I started the drive with a 1/2 tank of gas in my truck, not wanting to take the time to stop on my way out of town, but also not wanting to get gas in the other city because it would be $.20 more expensive. Until 3 weeks ago I had taken this same drive 5 days a week for 9 months for my job. I KNOW that I should have been out of gas when I arrived, and would have to get gas before heading home. Instead of getting gas though, I headed for home. With every mile I got more and more anxious, but after 30 miles my fuel gauge needled hadn't moved. Of course I would get home--then I could buy gas for the cheaper price. But when I arrived home after the 65 mile drive home, the needle STILL HADN'T MOVED! Not only did I not have to get gas for $.20 MORE in another city, but I didn't have to get it tonight either! The quarter tank we have will probably last until payday! Blessing #7.
In 7 days God has shown me His glory 7 times--and I had to share!
GOD IS GOOD.
Last Thursday, one week ago, we went to McDonald's to get some lunch (unhealthy and CHEAP) and this day we had very little money--I think around $20.
So as we came into the parking lot there was a man holding a sign "On the Road--Anything Will Help". Probably a high percentage of people would drive by, go into McDonald's, order Extra Value Meals, and never give him another thought. Instead, my awesome husband went over and invited him to eat lunch with us. He declined because he had already eaten, but he accepted $2 (which is all Morrel had in his wallet) and a handshake. We ate our Dollar Menu lunch and got our smiling boy a Happy Meal. Blessing #1.
On the same day I went to the bank to change our teams Relay for Life money into money orders. When I got back into my car, I sat and texted someone for a moment, and when I looked up there was a man speaking to me through my window, but I couldn't hear him. I cautiously cracked my window (because of the money order I just got that was still blank), and he asked if I could help him get a taxi to Carbondale (about 7 miles away). He said it's about $17, but he didn't expect that from me, but could I help. He had with him a young girl, about my son's age, in a stroller, in a long sleeve shirt, sweaty, sippy-cup in hand, and crying. He said his car broke down and he couldn't afford it to be fixed, or to have it towed home, so he didn't have a ride home, and his car was at the wrecker lot. Well I didn't ask any questions. He told me everything I needed to know--he needed help, and I had $5 on me. Blessing #2.
After our McDonald's Dollar Menu lunch, the friendly vet, and the man with the baby and stroller, this happy couple had $2 left to our name. We were flat broke, but very happy that we were able to help.
In the last 3 days...
...Someone has GIVEN me a no-strings-attached $100 bill to buy groceries.
...Morrel FOUND a $20 bill on the ground.
...I FOUND a $5 bill on my sons bedroom floor.
...An unexplained $57 was loaded to my Walmart gift card that never left my wallet.
Blessings #3, 4, 5, & 6
Today I had a Relay for Life team meeting in another city--not a nearby city. I started the drive with a 1/2 tank of gas in my truck, not wanting to take the time to stop on my way out of town, but also not wanting to get gas in the other city because it would be $.20 more expensive. Until 3 weeks ago I had taken this same drive 5 days a week for 9 months for my job. I KNOW that I should have been out of gas when I arrived, and would have to get gas before heading home. Instead of getting gas though, I headed for home. With every mile I got more and more anxious, but after 30 miles my fuel gauge needled hadn't moved. Of course I would get home--then I could buy gas for the cheaper price. But when I arrived home after the 65 mile drive home, the needle STILL HADN'T MOVED! Not only did I not have to get gas for $.20 MORE in another city, but I didn't have to get it tonight either! The quarter tank we have will probably last until payday! Blessing #7.
In 7 days God has shown me His glory 7 times--and I had to share!
GOD IS GOOD.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Bottom Line
I have been a "stay at home mom" for 25 days now, and I feel like I'm making strides in some areas, and taking huge backward steps in others. For instance, my house is the tidiest it has been since I can remember (that is an over-used term, but honestly, it's true). We have de-cluttered every nook and cranny, have started re-modeling, I've stored baby clothes, baby toys, baby books, winter clothes, summer clothes, too-small clothes, rearranged furniture, organized toys, books, clothes, food, dishes, shampoo...
Bottom line: My house looks awesome.
Aside from this sort of house-overhaul, is a spiritual overhaul that has been brewing for quite some time now. I am in the process of learning so much about God and myself as well. I am learning to organize and collect my spiritual clutter just as I did my house clutter. I call it a process of learning because it's not something I "learned". I can't stop myself from learnING more and more. As soon as I learn something, I want to learn something else--dig deeper. I can't help but find books to read, open my Bible while I'm sitting around the house, talk to God about every little thing I come across. I am learning that this really is a relationship I need to work on. Just like I need to work on my marriage every day, I need to work on my relationship with God every day. To be honest I'm surprised I haven't drifted completely away from God as little as I've been interacting with Him lately (at least up until this point). We all know how exciting a new relationship is, and I can't let this slip away.
Bottom line: My view of God looks awesome.
Of course, life is not all sunshine and rainbows. In fact Christian life promises to be sort of an uphill battle, that is why the way is narrow. This is where I run into problems. Times are tough--in the world, in America, and in this wonderful, de-cluttered, organized, and tidy household. We are blessed with all we have, and praise God for it, but it is always tough to give Him praise when times are tough. This is where I struggle, while exceeding my own expectations in other areas. What's funny is that it all goes back to God. How do I know what job is right for us, what budget will work for us, what diet to keep for us? Well, as long as I keep up with God in prayer and study, I don't have to wonder so much about this "little" stuff. He says not to worry about tomorrow (Matt 6:25-33). So, what right do I have to do so?
Bottom line: I've obviously got a lot to learn.
Bottom line: My house looks awesome.
Aside from this sort of house-overhaul, is a spiritual overhaul that has been brewing for quite some time now. I am in the process of learning so much about God and myself as well. I am learning to organize and collect my spiritual clutter just as I did my house clutter. I call it a process of learning because it's not something I "learned". I can't stop myself from learnING more and more. As soon as I learn something, I want to learn something else--dig deeper. I can't help but find books to read, open my Bible while I'm sitting around the house, talk to God about every little thing I come across. I am learning that this really is a relationship I need to work on. Just like I need to work on my marriage every day, I need to work on my relationship with God every day. To be honest I'm surprised I haven't drifted completely away from God as little as I've been interacting with Him lately (at least up until this point). We all know how exciting a new relationship is, and I can't let this slip away.
Bottom line: My view of God looks awesome.
Of course, life is not all sunshine and rainbows. In fact Christian life promises to be sort of an uphill battle, that is why the way is narrow. This is where I run into problems. Times are tough--in the world, in America, and in this wonderful, de-cluttered, organized, and tidy household. We are blessed with all we have, and praise God for it, but it is always tough to give Him praise when times are tough. This is where I struggle, while exceeding my own expectations in other areas. What's funny is that it all goes back to God. How do I know what job is right for us, what budget will work for us, what diet to keep for us? Well, as long as I keep up with God in prayer and study, I don't have to wonder so much about this "little" stuff. He says not to worry about tomorrow (Matt 6:25-33). So, what right do I have to do so?
Bottom line: I've obviously got a lot to learn.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Sometimes It Takes a Two-Way Mirror
As some of you know, my family has been struggling because my husband has been looking for a job, and nothing seems to fit. But this past week God has blessed him with a great-paying job with regular hours and off Sabbath! Of course this is heaven-sent--everything we could ask for. So, he came home from orientation yesterday and wanted to celebrate. He and our son hit the road to good-ole Walmart and returned with orders for me to "stay out of the kitchen until dinner is finished". Well, I'm not one to complain when someone else does the cooking (plus, he is a fabulous cook), so I obey.
When dinner is finished he calls me in and we have some nice pasta and vegetables, dinner rolls, and even French Silk Pie for dessert. To drink he got a bottle of champagne and was very proud to afford even a pretty cheap bottle because we were celebrating.
The dinner was great. We've been remodeling, so we haven't eaten at the dinner table in awhile, but he even cleaned the kitchen up so we could. Everything was very nice, and I even drank some of the champagne (even though it is very strong for my taste).
After dinner we were sitting around and I checked Facebook, only to see that my husband posted something on his status about celebrating his new job with champagne. Automatically my mind went to all the people he is friends with on Facebook that would pass judgement on us for drinking champagne. He didn't even tag me in the post and I was imagining all the comments I would get from people I knew about being so public about drinking champagne. I didn't even stop to notice how thrilled my husband was on his Facebook status about his new job, and spending time with his wife and boys. All I could think of was that someone, somewhere was going to see that and say something, anything, to make me feel "less christian".
Now, I won't get into the obvious--which is that I didn't consider my husband's feelings at all, and actually ended up hurting him by pressuring him to remove his own Facebook status. What is still bothering me one night later is how unhinged I got at the thought of someone seeing me for who I am.
I am a Christian. I love Jesus, and am saved by God's grace and mercy alone, and everything good in my life is from His hand. My husband's job, provided in the nick of time, was a divine intervention from God to keep our family afloat during a tough time, and he even said that in the status that I was so unhinged about. So, why all the fuss?
I think I forgot who I'm trying to be a Christian FOR. We all need a mirror sometimes to inspect ourselves--to see the plank in our own eye (Matthew 7:3). And yes, that mirror is a two-way mirror; it has to be. The world will be watching us all. If you say you are a Christian, standing for God, and have been changed by God, then expect to be watched. There are people in the world that want to see you, want to see what makes you so different, what makes you so "Christian".
But I'm not a Christian for them. I'm not a Christian for my church. I'm not even a Christian for myself. I am a Christian for God. And I can be whoever I want to be on Facebook, but God sees me for who I am.
I guess the moral of this story is, I was wrong. It definitely is not the first time and will not be the last. I was wrong for jumping all over my hubby's back for being honest on Facebook and happy about his job (along with tromping all over his feelings). I was wrong for valuing other people's opinions more than I do God's, and failing to see the big picture. The big picture is pretty clear to me. God gets the glory in our life (1 Cor 10:31). Is alcohol the very best thing to be drinking? Well, no. Probably a non-Christian could tell you that. But, in our kitchen, in our home, and in our life God gets the glory. We are everything we are because of Him. My husband even gave God the glory in his Facebook status, but no one will ever know, because I was so mortified at the mention of champagne that he removed it.
I notice that before I noticed God in his post. And I was certain everyone else would too. I noticed everyone else seeing through my two-way mirror before I realized that God made the mirror, and sees on both sides. Also, when I decided to give my heart to God I was joining a community of people who had also given their hearts to God. We can hold each other accountable, can hold each other up, but our promises are not to other people. Our covenant is with God.
When dinner is finished he calls me in and we have some nice pasta and vegetables, dinner rolls, and even French Silk Pie for dessert. To drink he got a bottle of champagne and was very proud to afford even a pretty cheap bottle because we were celebrating.
The dinner was great. We've been remodeling, so we haven't eaten at the dinner table in awhile, but he even cleaned the kitchen up so we could. Everything was very nice, and I even drank some of the champagne (even though it is very strong for my taste).
After dinner we were sitting around and I checked Facebook, only to see that my husband posted something on his status about celebrating his new job with champagne. Automatically my mind went to all the people he is friends with on Facebook that would pass judgement on us for drinking champagne. He didn't even tag me in the post and I was imagining all the comments I would get from people I knew about being so public about drinking champagne. I didn't even stop to notice how thrilled my husband was on his Facebook status about his new job, and spending time with his wife and boys. All I could think of was that someone, somewhere was going to see that and say something, anything, to make me feel "less christian".
Now, I won't get into the obvious--which is that I didn't consider my husband's feelings at all, and actually ended up hurting him by pressuring him to remove his own Facebook status. What is still bothering me one night later is how unhinged I got at the thought of someone seeing me for who I am.
I am a Christian. I love Jesus, and am saved by God's grace and mercy alone, and everything good in my life is from His hand. My husband's job, provided in the nick of time, was a divine intervention from God to keep our family afloat during a tough time, and he even said that in the status that I was so unhinged about. So, why all the fuss?
I think I forgot who I'm trying to be a Christian FOR. We all need a mirror sometimes to inspect ourselves--to see the plank in our own eye (Matthew 7:3). And yes, that mirror is a two-way mirror; it has to be. The world will be watching us all. If you say you are a Christian, standing for God, and have been changed by God, then expect to be watched. There are people in the world that want to see you, want to see what makes you so different, what makes you so "Christian".
But I'm not a Christian for them. I'm not a Christian for my church. I'm not even a Christian for myself. I am a Christian for God. And I can be whoever I want to be on Facebook, but God sees me for who I am.
I guess the moral of this story is, I was wrong. It definitely is not the first time and will not be the last. I was wrong for jumping all over my hubby's back for being honest on Facebook and happy about his job (along with tromping all over his feelings). I was wrong for valuing other people's opinions more than I do God's, and failing to see the big picture. The big picture is pretty clear to me. God gets the glory in our life (1 Cor 10:31). Is alcohol the very best thing to be drinking? Well, no. Probably a non-Christian could tell you that. But, in our kitchen, in our home, and in our life God gets the glory. We are everything we are because of Him. My husband even gave God the glory in his Facebook status, but no one will ever know, because I was so mortified at the mention of champagne that he removed it.
I notice that before I noticed God in his post. And I was certain everyone else would too. I noticed everyone else seeing through my two-way mirror before I realized that God made the mirror, and sees on both sides. Also, when I decided to give my heart to God I was joining a community of people who had also given their hearts to God. We can hold each other accountable, can hold each other up, but our promises are not to other people. Our covenant is with God.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Embracing This Season
It is February 7th and most of the country is having considerably mild weather. We, for instance, today was t-shirt weather, like so many other days this week. It is odd; it may be striking the farmers with fear of a harsh Spring; it is confusing the birds into staying, and being caught in small snow showers. I have heard talk of El Nino, or La Nina, global warming, the list is endless. But one thing that is striking to me about this odd weather is that people don't seem to mind. I don't see people wearing their snow suits and mittens. I don't see them building "snow" men out of mud on the side walk. I don't see anyone packing up to move to Canada to catch some winter weather. It seems like everyone (at least here in Southeast Missouri) is embracing this unseasonable weather. Kids are outside on their bikes, wearing jeans and t-shirts. Parks are full of families playing, Happy Meals on the nearest picnic table. No one is too upset about the sweaters staying in the closet.
So here I am, trying to embrace this season of my life. Not the warm weather, cool nights, flip-flops and sunglasses season. I am ready to embrace this season of my life. It seems that every season has a purpose, every chapter of my life thus far has had a clear intro, body, and conclusion--fantastic images, similes here and there, quotations from the best books and wise souls who've helped shape me. This one has been kind of like 60 degree weather in February. When I want to stay home with my children I am working. When I want to wake up early to run, I am too tired. When I finally have a passion for community and church service, I don't have time. When I want a(nother) baby, I can't have one, or keep one. It seems like the trick to making this season mine, is to do just that. I am ready to wear shorts on the warm days. I am ready for this season of life to be mine (and my husband's and my two wonderful sons'). We deserve to enjoy this little life we have been blessed with.
Since I am working, and will be working for the time being, I should do a truly awesome job. Not only should I do a truly awesome job at work, but also at home, where it matters a little more. Since I am tired in the mornings, maybe I should go to bed earlier, or maybe run later in the day. If I am passionate for church or community work, I should watch less TV, or pick things that can fit perfectly into my life--because after all, it is mine. No one has told me what to do with it. The weather has changed, but I have a wardrobe full of possibilities.
So here I am, trying to embrace this season of my life. Not the warm weather, cool nights, flip-flops and sunglasses season. I am ready to embrace this season of my life. It seems that every season has a purpose, every chapter of my life thus far has had a clear intro, body, and conclusion--fantastic images, similes here and there, quotations from the best books and wise souls who've helped shape me. This one has been kind of like 60 degree weather in February. When I want to stay home with my children I am working. When I want to wake up early to run, I am too tired. When I finally have a passion for community and church service, I don't have time. When I want a(nother) baby, I can't have one, or keep one. It seems like the trick to making this season mine, is to do just that. I am ready to wear shorts on the warm days. I am ready for this season of life to be mine (and my husband's and my two wonderful sons'). We deserve to enjoy this little life we have been blessed with.
Since I am working, and will be working for the time being, I should do a truly awesome job. Not only should I do a truly awesome job at work, but also at home, where it matters a little more. Since I am tired in the mornings, maybe I should go to bed earlier, or maybe run later in the day. If I am passionate for church or community work, I should watch less TV, or pick things that can fit perfectly into my life--because after all, it is mine. No one has told me what to do with it. The weather has changed, but I have a wardrobe full of possibilities.
Rereading Dreamland
For awhile now I've been trying to finish writing a ya novel that I started years ago. It is a problem novel about an abusive teen relationship. I've had problems getting into, so I decided to re-read my favorite Sarah Dessen book, Dreamland, which is also about an abusive teen relationship. When I was in high school and read it, it made me feel happy, that anyone else in the world could read it and possibly know all my secrets, without really knowing they were mine.
Well, I finished reading it last night, and was not ready for what I felt. As it turns out, I am much happier forgetting what it was like back then. In the book, Caitlyn, who tries everything to be something different than anyone expects, ends up in the arms of a "bad boy" who deals drugs and beats her up. Now, I didn't get beat up. I didn't even get hit, really, at least until much later--when it was much too late to make any real changes. But things that happened to Caitlyn hit way too close to home, and I don't know why I was so surprised at how I felt when reading them.
For instance, rushing through a crowd, maybe school, to get to him before he had to wait a minute. Never going anywhere, afraid he would come, and wait, growing angry, and then find me. Shutting out all the friends that would let me, knowing if they got close they would know something was wrong, and then when that one friend finally wouldn't take no for an answer and "kidnapped" me, the fear, the constant dialing, wishing he would pick up. Then after I sat crying on her living room floor as time ticked away, his exhaust rumbled in the driveway. He always found me. And once again, I let him drag me away from a life I missed desperately.
I remember, like Caitlyn, being terrified of other men talking to me--at church, school, on the phone, even wrong numbers. How class was the safest place I could be. He would never find me in class, never interested enough to figure out my schedule or the buildings on the big college campus. Maybe that's why I did so well in school, knowing that as long as I was in college, I'd have those classrooms with the thick wooden doors that he'd never open to find me.
I remember when guys from my classes would see me at the gas station or grocery store. Even if it was just a "Hi, this must be your husband", that was enough to make me dread the long walk across the parking lot to our car, he refusing to hold my hand, jaw set, cursing under his breath. Then when the doors closed would lay into me "So, what have you told people about me?...How many times have you f*cked that guy?...I wish I knew what kind of (insert the worse female curse) you'd turn out to be before I married you." Usually that was enough. He liked to just make me feel small, and helpless. Other times he would throw things, big or small, leaving bruises that he said were accidents because I "should've gotten out of the way" and they were my fault anyway, because I made him do those things.
The worst part of reading Dreamland was remembering the fierce protection I had for him over myself. Wanting to hide his flaws, hoping no one would see, praying that everyone could still believe I was some semblance of what I was before. Even after we finally split up, I missed him the way Caitlyn missed Rogerson, and had to go to a "shrink" to put me back together.
Obviously I don't miss him now, or that life, but I am having trouble deciding if reading the book again was a good or bad idea. I probably won't read it again, ever. I really hope young girls don't pick it up and have the feelings I did while reading it. Even though I do know there are young girls out there that have fallen in love with that "bad boy", and that learn the wrong ways to love before they even learn what love should be. Mostly, it makes me really sad, and I'm glad that someone thought to write a book about it. It's all well and good to read a love story and fantasize about what life could be, but it's altogether different to read a love story that's your story and know that just maybe another person on the planet has gone through it.
Not sure what the point is I'm trying to make, other than the obvious--I needed to say all this. I don't think I have before. And there's still a lot I haven't ever said, but my story hasn't been told yet.
Well, I finished reading it last night, and was not ready for what I felt. As it turns out, I am much happier forgetting what it was like back then. In the book, Caitlyn, who tries everything to be something different than anyone expects, ends up in the arms of a "bad boy" who deals drugs and beats her up. Now, I didn't get beat up. I didn't even get hit, really, at least until much later--when it was much too late to make any real changes. But things that happened to Caitlyn hit way too close to home, and I don't know why I was so surprised at how I felt when reading them.
For instance, rushing through a crowd, maybe school, to get to him before he had to wait a minute. Never going anywhere, afraid he would come, and wait, growing angry, and then find me. Shutting out all the friends that would let me, knowing if they got close they would know something was wrong, and then when that one friend finally wouldn't take no for an answer and "kidnapped" me, the fear, the constant dialing, wishing he would pick up. Then after I sat crying on her living room floor as time ticked away, his exhaust rumbled in the driveway. He always found me. And once again, I let him drag me away from a life I missed desperately.
I remember, like Caitlyn, being terrified of other men talking to me--at church, school, on the phone, even wrong numbers. How class was the safest place I could be. He would never find me in class, never interested enough to figure out my schedule or the buildings on the big college campus. Maybe that's why I did so well in school, knowing that as long as I was in college, I'd have those classrooms with the thick wooden doors that he'd never open to find me.
I remember when guys from my classes would see me at the gas station or grocery store. Even if it was just a "Hi, this must be your husband", that was enough to make me dread the long walk across the parking lot to our car, he refusing to hold my hand, jaw set, cursing under his breath. Then when the doors closed would lay into me "So, what have you told people about me?...How many times have you f*cked that guy?...I wish I knew what kind of (insert the worse female curse) you'd turn out to be before I married you." Usually that was enough. He liked to just make me feel small, and helpless. Other times he would throw things, big or small, leaving bruises that he said were accidents because I "should've gotten out of the way" and they were my fault anyway, because I made him do those things.
The worst part of reading Dreamland was remembering the fierce protection I had for him over myself. Wanting to hide his flaws, hoping no one would see, praying that everyone could still believe I was some semblance of what I was before. Even after we finally split up, I missed him the way Caitlyn missed Rogerson, and had to go to a "shrink" to put me back together.
Obviously I don't miss him now, or that life, but I am having trouble deciding if reading the book again was a good or bad idea. I probably won't read it again, ever. I really hope young girls don't pick it up and have the feelings I did while reading it. Even though I do know there are young girls out there that have fallen in love with that "bad boy", and that learn the wrong ways to love before they even learn what love should be. Mostly, it makes me really sad, and I'm glad that someone thought to write a book about it. It's all well and good to read a love story and fantasize about what life could be, but it's altogether different to read a love story that's your story and know that just maybe another person on the planet has gone through it.
Not sure what the point is I'm trying to make, other than the obvious--I needed to say all this. I don't think I have before. And there's still a lot I haven't ever said, but my story hasn't been told yet.
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