Did you know you can be overdressed and underdressed at the same time? It's possible. Just look at fashion these days. You just don't get enough fabric for the price you're paying. Last night I saw concert-goer after concert-goer pass before us, each in a fancier dress than the last. It reminded me of prom, except the dresses stopped about 6 inches from the waist instead of brushing the ground. THere I sat wondering if I missed the red carpet on my way in. These girls probably paid top dollar for their dresses, yet very little was covered. So why wear a skimpy and expensive dress to an outdoor concert just to sit in the grass and cover up with a blanket anyway? Makes little sense to me, but then again, not much about the world does. The outrageousness of the night did not stop at the ostentatious attire.
What I Saw: People-watching at Brad Paisley's Beat this Summer tour - St. Louis 2013
1. A guy that couldn't have been more than 12-13 years old sporting a full beard
2. A guy encouraging and then photographing his girlfriend kiss another girl (classy)
3. A few thousand people raising their cigarettes to the "No Smoking in this Venue" sign
4. A $4.50 bottle of water and a $10.00 cheeseburger!
5. Complete strangers watching each other's stuff, saving each other's place in line, sharing blankets
6. 20,000 people (give or take a few) all cheering for the American flag, and for a tribute to George Jones
7. A whole lot of people getting drunk, but not one fight
8. Kids waist-high all the way to gray-headed seniors singing the same songs at the same time (with not curse words)
9. Couples slow-dancing under the stars
10. Thousands of cars in lines, but no yelling, cursing, or bickering (a little honking)
Lessons Learned:
I don't have to be scantily dressed or inebriated to have a good time. My beloved and I had the best date we've had in awhile. We didn't have to spend a lot of money (except the almost-$20-pretzels). We didn't have to have front-row seats, or a beer in hand. We didn't need anything but each other to have a blast. It's kind of funny. Back when we did those things, drank and carried on, we only needed each other then too. The gray-headed seniors in the amphitheater knew this secret. I'm glad I figured it out. Life is too short to waste one minute on lesser things. We need to always ask ourselves: CAN I DO BETTER? Not "can I perform better" or "can I behave better", but CAN I DO BETTER? Is this worth my time? If you are settling for anything less than your time and energy deserves, then maybe you should do something different.
But I love my husband/wife/significant other, you say. We enjoy each other the way we want. Maybe so, but there is another element to what I'm relaying. Once you get a glimpse of Higher things, you no longer want to lie in the muck. Think about it. Once you have felt God's goodness, you want to breathe goodness to others. So while many around me were drinking and carrying on at the concert, I was wondering if the couple in front of us were getting their butts wet, and if they'd like to borrow our blanket to sit on. I thoroughly enjoyed myself at what was the best concert I've ever been to (maybe it was the fine gentleman I had in tow), but I didn't forget the goodness God has shown me, and how I pray He will visit the same on all those who sat around me. I remember when I was like them. Now I am changed, but I can't forget that we are still alike.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Saturday, May 4, 2013
What's the Point?
I was watching a pretty good film today called To Save a Life. It deals with all sorts of issues that people of all ages endure today: suicide, loss, unplanned pregnancy, cutting, drinking, various self-image issues. I wouldn't recommend it to very young audiences (although I did watch it with my 6 year old nephew, but we discussed a lot of what we were seeing, and I think that 'parental guidance' that they recommend is a good idea for most television-watching). All that aside, there is one part of the movie that I particularly like. This kid (I say 'kid', but really the character, Jake, is 18 years old, just got his 18 year old girlfriend pregnant, just lost his childhood best friend to suicide, and is currently seeking the Lord--so he may be a 'kid' age-wise, but's dealing with some very adult issues like a pro) is attending a youth group meeting that his girlfriend just left because she felt judged. I'd try to explain the whole scene, but it's easier to use a clip, so enjoy:
The whole movie got me thinking, but this scene in particular got me thinking deeper. Today at church I got very frustrated with myself and my kids. Many things fell into order that left me and my brother alone at church with our children. My three were sitting with me (if you can call it that), and his two were sitting in front of me. He preached and I had other obligations during church service, so we were both up and down from the podium throughout the service, and our kids? They were up and down from their chairs throughout service. Between managing them during the church service, and then managing them while teaching Sabbath School, I was fairly exhausted. When the baby woke up hungry and I had to nurse him I had to throw in the towel and resort to sitting and issuing orders that went seemingly unnoticed.
As I started my car and sat waiting for Mickey to buckle his car seat, I took a moment to reflect. Why did I bother coming to church when I knew it would be like this? It's no surprise. It's always difficult when I'm by myself with the kids. So why don't I just skip church on drill weekends and have a pajama day with my kids?
It's because of my heart.
Yep, my heart is in God's church on Sabbath, no matter where I am.
So in the words of Jake: "What's the point of all this if you're not gonna let this change you?"
You can ask yourself the same question about anything. I ask myself about my work for God. Why toil away at different programs and events if our heart isn't in it? Some people will take on a job because it sounds good, and looks good, and may even feel good, but if their heart isn't in it, it'll always end up being more work, a bigger headache, and essentially a heartache.
"What's the point of all this if you're not gonna let this change you?"
What's the point in coming to church? What's the point in following the rules? What's the point to what can become very monotonous routines if you aren't going to let it change you? But not just it--Jesus. I have been in the race without the clean heart. It is dirty and brutal. I don't want want to return there. I want Jesus to change me through everything I do. That means teaching Sabbath School when I'm overwhelmed, counting to 10 when I'd rather be spanking the behind of one of my kids, or putting all my time, energy, and money into an event or program. What's the point if I don't let Him change me?
The whole movie got me thinking, but this scene in particular got me thinking deeper. Today at church I got very frustrated with myself and my kids. Many things fell into order that left me and my brother alone at church with our children. My three were sitting with me (if you can call it that), and his two were sitting in front of me. He preached and I had other obligations during church service, so we were both up and down from the podium throughout the service, and our kids? They were up and down from their chairs throughout service. Between managing them during the church service, and then managing them while teaching Sabbath School, I was fairly exhausted. When the baby woke up hungry and I had to nurse him I had to throw in the towel and resort to sitting and issuing orders that went seemingly unnoticed.
As I started my car and sat waiting for Mickey to buckle his car seat, I took a moment to reflect. Why did I bother coming to church when I knew it would be like this? It's no surprise. It's always difficult when I'm by myself with the kids. So why don't I just skip church on drill weekends and have a pajama day with my kids?
It's because of my heart.
Yep, my heart is in God's church on Sabbath, no matter where I am.
So in the words of Jake: "What's the point of all this if you're not gonna let this change you?"
You can ask yourself the same question about anything. I ask myself about my work for God. Why toil away at different programs and events if our heart isn't in it? Some people will take on a job because it sounds good, and looks good, and may even feel good, but if their heart isn't in it, it'll always end up being more work, a bigger headache, and essentially a heartache.
"What's the point of all this if you're not gonna let this change you?"
What's the point in coming to church? What's the point in following the rules? What's the point to what can become very monotonous routines if you aren't going to let it change you? But not just it--Jesus. I have been in the race without the clean heart. It is dirty and brutal. I don't want want to return there. I want Jesus to change me through everything I do. That means teaching Sabbath School when I'm overwhelmed, counting to 10 when I'd rather be spanking the behind of one of my kids, or putting all my time, energy, and money into an event or program. What's the point if I don't let Him change me?
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Dear Me
I am reading a book in which the author wrote himself a letter at the age of 20 which remained sealed until he was 40. What an interesting idea! Unfortunately I am such a boring twenty-something that I'm not sure I would change all that much in 20 years--20 years of adulthood, that is. I have changed drastically in just 10 years growing from childhood to adulthood, however. I wish I had had the forethought to pen myself a letter 10 years ago; I wish I had done it 15 years ago. We are all so different as children, aren't we?
I was listening to my favorite radio station the other day (Air1) in which the cast was discussing how we as people tend to laugh less into adulthood. How many times per day do you laugh? I am sad to say that I laugh less than 10 times per day, and find it annoying when other people laugh like children. The fact is that I wish I laughed like a child more often. It's something that I miss.
I just recently shopped at our local library's annual book sale. There were fiction books, religious, historical, and children's, but the largest volume of books were of one kind: romance novels. There is a reason that women are drawn toward romantic books and movies. It's the love story. We all miss it. Even as a happily married wife of going-on 5 years I miss the story of our love. I miss the "falling", and I think a lot of others do as well. It's not that I'm not happy; it's not even that I'm bored. I miss the goofy, laugh of my love. I miss the good-hearted, belly-laugh of my life. Where did it go?
If I had written myself a letter 10 years ago, knowing what I know now it would go something like this:
Rachel,
By now you are 26. I have no idea what types of things you'll be doing. You may have kids. Maybe you have a job, a husband, maybe a dog or cat. All I know is what I am. I'm a 16 year old. I'm a new driver, a rebellious daughter, a thriving student, and a Christian. That sounds like just about every 16 year old, right (well, maybe not the bit about a thriving student)?
Truth-be-told I'm a new driver, but I am pretty good at it. I drive a giant truck, one known around town as "Big Blacky". My big brother taught me to drive it, teaching me how a stick-shift works, and telling me that if I could drive that big truck I could drive anything. It felt pretty awesome to get such a compliment from him. I hope you remember that. I may be a rebellious teenager, but there are a lot of people around me that rally around me; they want the best for me. Because they are all here I know that they will still be here when I screw up. Remember them--remember who is here right now. I don't appreciate them now, but maybe you will. I am a thriving student, but what you don't know is that I don't really try that hard. Maybe if I tried I'd do a lot better. Remember that. Remember that I'm not trying all that hard at 16 and doing great, so if you aren't trying all that hard at 26, try harder. Do better. You can do just about anything, can't you? Remember that. Finally, I'm a Christian. Sometimes a hard pill to swallow for a 16 year old, yes. But I love it. I love this great big God I serve, the church family I have, the morals my parents instilled in me, and even the funny looks I get sometimes for going to church on Saturday.
I sound pretty solid, huh? That being said, if you're in any way screwed up at 26, it's your doing, not mine. What's great about it is that you can always fix it, can't you? Don't forget who I am. Don't forget who you were, and who you can be.
Rachel
That might be how the 16 year old me would write to me through a decade of time. However, if she could speak to me, face to face, she'd say something like "you may be happy, but you used to make people happy. You may smile a lot, but you used to make people smile a lot. You may enjoy the innocence of your children, but you used to be one of them. LAUGH!!". How we forget this as adults.
I was listening to my favorite radio station the other day (Air1) in which the cast was discussing how we as people tend to laugh less into adulthood. How many times per day do you laugh? I am sad to say that I laugh less than 10 times per day, and find it annoying when other people laugh like children. The fact is that I wish I laughed like a child more often. It's something that I miss.
I just recently shopped at our local library's annual book sale. There were fiction books, religious, historical, and children's, but the largest volume of books were of one kind: romance novels. There is a reason that women are drawn toward romantic books and movies. It's the love story. We all miss it. Even as a happily married wife of going-on 5 years I miss the story of our love. I miss the "falling", and I think a lot of others do as well. It's not that I'm not happy; it's not even that I'm bored. I miss the goofy, laugh of my love. I miss the good-hearted, belly-laugh of my life. Where did it go?
If I had written myself a letter 10 years ago, knowing what I know now it would go something like this:
Rachel,
By now you are 26. I have no idea what types of things you'll be doing. You may have kids. Maybe you have a job, a husband, maybe a dog or cat. All I know is what I am. I'm a 16 year old. I'm a new driver, a rebellious daughter, a thriving student, and a Christian. That sounds like just about every 16 year old, right (well, maybe not the bit about a thriving student)?
Truth-be-told I'm a new driver, but I am pretty good at it. I drive a giant truck, one known around town as "Big Blacky". My big brother taught me to drive it, teaching me how a stick-shift works, and telling me that if I could drive that big truck I could drive anything. It felt pretty awesome to get such a compliment from him. I hope you remember that. I may be a rebellious teenager, but there are a lot of people around me that rally around me; they want the best for me. Because they are all here I know that they will still be here when I screw up. Remember them--remember who is here right now. I don't appreciate them now, but maybe you will. I am a thriving student, but what you don't know is that I don't really try that hard. Maybe if I tried I'd do a lot better. Remember that. Remember that I'm not trying all that hard at 16 and doing great, so if you aren't trying all that hard at 26, try harder. Do better. You can do just about anything, can't you? Remember that. Finally, I'm a Christian. Sometimes a hard pill to swallow for a 16 year old, yes. But I love it. I love this great big God I serve, the church family I have, the morals my parents instilled in me, and even the funny looks I get sometimes for going to church on Saturday.
I sound pretty solid, huh? That being said, if you're in any way screwed up at 26, it's your doing, not mine. What's great about it is that you can always fix it, can't you? Don't forget who I am. Don't forget who you were, and who you can be.
Rachel
That might be how the 16 year old me would write to me through a decade of time. However, if she could speak to me, face to face, she'd say something like "you may be happy, but you used to make people happy. You may smile a lot, but you used to make people smile a lot. You may enjoy the innocence of your children, but you used to be one of them. LAUGH!!". How we forget this as adults.
Friday, March 1, 2013
And Then There Were 3
As week 39 looms ahead of me I am wondering just how much another baby is about to change my life. This past week my husband and I celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary. In four years we have been through a deployment, numerous reintegration and relationship issues, four pregnancies including 1 miscarriage and one birth to come (hopefully any day now). We have moved 5 times, gone through NINE vehicles, and I've put on roughly 40 lbs.
We have not seen eye to eye, stood toe to toe, and had our share of passionate arguments. In those 4 years we have almost called it quits, but fought through. We have fallen in love several times, and still woo each other as often as we can.
It's been a LONG 4 years, and we finall have a groove. Probably other couples may not use that word. Some couples may call it a "rut", but I like the groove we are in. Sometimes comfortable is nice. It may have taken 4 years and a lot of work, but we finally move together. Even if we don't agree or see eye to eye all the time, at least we understand each others' points of view. I was thinking today about divorce and how high the rates are in America, and how common it is to rule it as "irreconcilable differences". I have realized though that there aren't any "irreconcilable differences". If Jesus can be reconciled to us after all we've done, then we can be reconciled to each other, no matter what the "difference" is.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not on a witch-hunt for divorcees. If I was it would have to start with me. My only point is that I intend to start another year of marriage with this in mind: I want to be happy everyday with the one I love. If that means reconciling differences everyday, then I'm fine with that. If I have to say "I'm wrong", "I'm sorry", "forgive me", etc. a hundred times this coming year it will be less that I predict. I'm just at the point where I want to spend time with my husband and kids. I don't want to be sulking in the shower behind a locked door (which is what I do when I'm mad). I'd rather talk to him than give him the silent treatment. I have done my fair share of picking fights for 4 years now, and I'm just not going to do it anymore. Taking a premise from a well-known relationship expert who wrote Love & Respect, I am jumping off the "crazy cycle" and jumping into my hubby's arms (it's much more comfortable there). With this in mind I am confident that a third baby will only be a blessing in this house, because I've never been happier. We all know the saying "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Well I think that works both ways.
Now enough of this mooshy gooshy stuff. My next blog will be about gun violence and crime statistics. (just kidding)...
We have not seen eye to eye, stood toe to toe, and had our share of passionate arguments. In those 4 years we have almost called it quits, but fought through. We have fallen in love several times, and still woo each other as often as we can.
It's been a LONG 4 years, and we finall have a groove. Probably other couples may not use that word. Some couples may call it a "rut", but I like the groove we are in. Sometimes comfortable is nice. It may have taken 4 years and a lot of work, but we finally move together. Even if we don't agree or see eye to eye all the time, at least we understand each others' points of view. I was thinking today about divorce and how high the rates are in America, and how common it is to rule it as "irreconcilable differences". I have realized though that there aren't any "irreconcilable differences". If Jesus can be reconciled to us after all we've done, then we can be reconciled to each other, no matter what the "difference" is.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not on a witch-hunt for divorcees. If I was it would have to start with me. My only point is that I intend to start another year of marriage with this in mind: I want to be happy everyday with the one I love. If that means reconciling differences everyday, then I'm fine with that. If I have to say "I'm wrong", "I'm sorry", "forgive me", etc. a hundred times this coming year it will be less that I predict. I'm just at the point where I want to spend time with my husband and kids. I don't want to be sulking in the shower behind a locked door (which is what I do when I'm mad). I'd rather talk to him than give him the silent treatment. I have done my fair share of picking fights for 4 years now, and I'm just not going to do it anymore. Taking a premise from a well-known relationship expert who wrote Love & Respect, I am jumping off the "crazy cycle" and jumping into my hubby's arms (it's much more comfortable there). With this in mind I am confident that a third baby will only be a blessing in this house, because I've never been happier. We all know the saying "If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Well I think that works both ways.
Now enough of this mooshy gooshy stuff. My next blog will be about gun violence and crime statistics. (just kidding)...
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Happy Valentine's Day
Today is Valentine's Day.
Men and women in pink and red aisles at the nearest Walmart.
Couples in love smiling over a Maple Butter Blondie,
snuggling in a booth,
giggling into each other's hair.
Long lines at the movies.
Traffic at every light.
Little hands holding Mama hands,
Candies in pockets and balloons on wrists.
From my booth, slurping up my noodles, and leaning into my husby's arm, this Valentine's Day seems like a happy one for everyone I see. But it's the people I don't see who may not be celebrating.
I remember a time when I didn't want to leave the house on this day--when I grumbled under my breath at every passing hand-holding couple. I remember when I was the girl who didn't have anyone and didn't care...
Only I did.
I only hope that all the people shedding tears today will have a smile a year from now when they're waiting 15 minutes for a table, and then an hour for their food, 5 minutes for a fork, and fending off smoke because the only available table was in the smoking section. I hope there is someone sharing a table with them that makes it all worth it :)
Men and women in pink and red aisles at the nearest Walmart.
Couples in love smiling over a Maple Butter Blondie,
snuggling in a booth,
giggling into each other's hair.
Long lines at the movies.
Traffic at every light.
Little hands holding Mama hands,
Candies in pockets and balloons on wrists.
From my booth, slurping up my noodles, and leaning into my husby's arm, this Valentine's Day seems like a happy one for everyone I see. But it's the people I don't see who may not be celebrating.
I remember a time when I didn't want to leave the house on this day--when I grumbled under my breath at every passing hand-holding couple. I remember when I was the girl who didn't have anyone and didn't care...
Only I did.
I only hope that all the people shedding tears today will have a smile a year from now when they're waiting 15 minutes for a table, and then an hour for their food, 5 minutes for a fork, and fending off smoke because the only available table was in the smoking section. I hope there is someone sharing a table with them that makes it all worth it :)
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Why We Trick-Or-Treat
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!
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!
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?
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