leave the light on....

Leave a light on so I can come home

Two blogs in one day! Bet this will never happen again. I feel inspired. Which is a good thing, because the older I get, the less inspired I generally feel. Except by children.

Anyway. With that depressing start. This was someone’s status on facebook. No idea what it is in reference to – but do you have those times in life when you feel like you keep getting walloped over the head, and yet that “kick me” sign is still on your back? You’ve been knocked down so many times you can barely see the light up at the top of the stairs, much less the steps themselves. It’s my life story, really. I don’t mean the getting kicked while you’re down part. I mean the leave the light on part. Time and time again I can’t see anymore. Because I’m crying, because it’s snowing, because that rain just keeps on coming, driving against me. And All I want is someone to flip that lightswitch on and illuminate what is around me so I can at least get my bearings and then try to figure out what the bigger picture is.

But I don’t think it says anywhere that I get to look at that bigger picture.

I think as long as God leaves that light on, with enough of a glow to make my way in the right direction, that’s all I need to see. Even if I have to feel my way towards it, and I am blinded by blurry tears, as long as I can still see that muddy glow, then everything is okay.

And I keep trucking on towards home. Not my death, though that’s part of it as well. But home in the peace and safety that I am determined to bask in on a daily basis, the most valuable gift that accompanies eternal life.

51%

51%

I have never in my life heard a sermon quite like the Christmas eve sermon at LCBC. Which is a good thing actually. Dave used the phrase “51% Christianity.” Incredibly astute of him, because that, in essence is the answer, I believe, to my last post.

I have no idea how this happened, and maybe its only here in our Western consumerist culture where to be a Christian does not, inherently, mean you sell all of your possessions or face death or exile. And somehow, watered down and ignored, we have managed to turn the “God cannot stand the sight of sin and you therefore, if you want a relationship with him, should do everything (in His power, which is endless) not to sin,” message into “well, as long as you try pretty hard and only do not-so-bad sins that you can’t help anyway, you’ll be good.”

As Jonas would say “To try means to fail.”

And, as I think maybe even God Himself would say: “I did not send my only son to die to give you a life to live so that 51% of the time you can act like Christ and fall more in love with us every day.”

It’s rather shameful to take on the mindset that as long as we’re more good than bad, as long as we purposefully do good things to make up for the bad ones, or as long as we pretend to keep trying, it’ll be okay. We’ll still be 51% good. God will still get us into heaven to enjoy the 100% purity of Him every day.

Maybe the message got lost in the media, or the reaction against the older, puritan movements, or just in our whirlwind speed of life. But the message is not, and never was, about being 51% good. The message is about being all good. 100%. All the time.

Impossible! You say. We are human beings! You say. We live in an imperfect world! You say.

All of which are true. I am not negating the fact that we all have sinned and are sentenced to death without the blood of Jesus.

I am trying to dispute the attitude we have adapted of well, if I do just enough to make it by, then Jesus will be satisfied.

Jesus can only be satisfied, as He was only satisfied to give, with our all. Everything. 100%. 100% good. 100% on His strength. 100% giving up our bad habits, fears, chronic addictions whatever. From lying to your mother-in-law to having sex with your boyfriend. From cheating on your time card to manipulating your friends or spouse. From swearing while you’re driving to drinking too much yet again.

God will not accept lukewarm Christians. That is not what He created heaven for. He did not set up a scale outside the pearly gates and weigh everyone to see if they are 51% good before they go in.

God died for us.

God lives for us.

And I think we owe it to the amazing gift and immeasurable strength in Him to not just try, but succeed in being the best that we were created to be.

They will know we are Christians by...

They will know we are Christians by our Love….

I don’t know if this is a Christmas song or not, but I remember it as being sung mostly at Christmas. As it was yesterday on the Christian radio station where I live. So soon after I had finished reading a Barna Group study as to why Christianity has come to be viewed so negatively by my generation. The study found, not surprisingly, that many people in their teens, twenties, and thirties have had a bad experience with a person, group, or church, and view Christians mainly as judgmental, hypocritical, and more concerned with the rules they are governed by than the love they are infused with. Though I don’t find the bad experiences people have had with Christians shocking, as I have had them myself, I did find the percentages in the study shocking, as showing a less than a quarter of those decades as being neutral or feeling positively towards Christians. Evangelical Christians especially were seen as some of the most negative representation of the faith.

Oy. I’m not Greek, but that’s the only word for it. On the one hand – I don’t think anyone or anything should ever be judged by one small encounter that left you wondering why they don’t practice what they preach. No one does that 24/7. Everyone hates traffic, crowds of noisy, rushing shoppers, in-you-face you’re-not-good-enough speeches, etc. On the other hand, the large majority of the people interviewed by the Barna group in that study did not list a general feeling towards Christians based on heresay, but on multiple personal experiences with Christians. Most identifying factor of Christians according to three-quarters of the “young people” population? Rejection of homosexuals. MOST identifying position.

Now, along that note, I do not and never will believe that homosexuality is anything but a choice, brought on by any number of legitimate or non nurturing, situations, and misunderstandings. However, “rejection?” Christians should never, ever, reject someone for being a sinner. Because that is what we are. Paul is so clear about this in one of his letters: “judge not, lest ye be judged.” A reality to his life, once converted. Paul realized that as someone who had spent his early life passionately trying to extinguish the church by any brutal means possible, he had no right to judge the prostitutes, gays, liars, manipulators, politicians, lawyers, frauds, step-fathers, abusers, or anyone else.

Not that he accepted what we’ve done and told us to go on doing those things. But Paul, and many others in the Bible, knew this fundamental fact: the sin is not the sinner.

It’s a pretty basic understanding that somehow gets shoved under the carpet in our everyday interactions – mine included. And yet – it is the foundation of Jesus’ ministry on earth. If we are to live like Jesus, full of the love and kindness that I’m sure must have just surrounded Him like a cloud (mixed, I’m sure, with the smell of dirt and sweat and sawdust), then we have to separate sinners from the sin. You can love a person and not like what they’re doing. Parents treat their children like that. Friends treat their friends like that. God treats us like that. He never stops loving us. He never quits, pauses, or momentarily steps out of the office. He can see us as his children through the veil of our many, many mistakes.

We see how Jesus demonstrated that time and time again. The prostitute who poured perfume on his feet. The one who he saved from a death by stones. The untouchables he healed, tax collectors he ate with, thieves he conversed with. Like no one else in history, Jesus is able to separate the sin from the sinner, and be neither condemning people nor encouraging sinful behavior.

Yet, today. Christians are viewed according to what they reject, not what they embrace. Do they know we are Christians by our love? That’s how Jesus was recognized. No crown, no big white horse, no whip, no priest’s garb or three piece suit or receipts from all the charities He’d donated to. By His love.

By His wounds, we all are healed.

By His love, we all can live.

By His love, we should be known.

All I want and All I need

So. (this is how this brilliant English major and conversationalist begins every single conversation in person or over email). Do you ever have those moments where you look at the path of your life and you say, "Huh. Guess you knew exactly what you were doing God. Sorry about all the whining. Thanks for getting me here with what I need."

I constantly, as do most american consumers, I think, have the urge to say, or even pray "God, if I could just have this..." and you know the rest. Truthfully, I tend towards practical things, like, if we could just have someone give us some portable casserole insulated containers, we could bring meals to people in need. Or a space heater so people could stay with us in the dead of winter when we can't afford to turn our gas heat on. Or some extra money so we could finally finish our kitchen cabinets.
Either that, or my requests tend toward the seemingly impossible. If we could just have enough money to go on vacation for a whole week, and not just to see my parents, but to go someplace tropical, ride a jet-ski, lounge on a beach and then learn to surf. If If I could just get the job I've always wanted, with the best benefits and only 5 miles from my house. If my parents would move down here so that when I have kids, I won't have to pay ludicrous amounts for day care.
One can see that I don't need any of these things I'm asking for. And when I look back at the footsteps that I have sometimes so blindly walked, I see that I got exactly what I needed.

I have a job that is not my dream job, but it has benefits that my husband's will never have, with the ridiculous perks that made it hit the number ten spot on best places to work in PA this year.

I paid an enormous amount of money for my undergrad education, and as a result have strong leadership skills, an easygoing work personality, an endlessly positive attitude towards the impossible and eternal tasks at my day job, superhero time management skills, a tireless work ethic, a hunger to use constructive criticism, and a tenacity and persistence to never let a project lag. Some people's worst boss, I know, but without my almost as much as a mortgage education, I wouldn't have all of those characteristics.

I have a freakin' house, which was one of those diving off a cliff decisions, hoping that I am either more rubbery than Wile E. Coyote and can bounce back up, or I'll fall onto a trampoline. I thought I'd be paying rent until I could pay off my student loans, but I own a four bedroom, amazing kitchen, adorable backyard, front porch with a swing house!

I have somehow inherited the most pleasant, kind, and interesting in-laws on the planet. One of whom lives near me and is an endless support and conversationalist, and another sister and the parents who are unceasingly generous and will always be there for me.

I have a car that I didn't really want (okay, because its not a stick and because its an ugly gold color) which has run strong for two years and 45,000 miles, which hardly ever breaks down and is entirely paid off. And lets face it, for a 2000 pontiac, the insurance is pennies.

And that's just the big stuff. There's the random guy from my short-lived temp job who connected Tim with the job of his dreams. There's the dining room table we bought for 25 dollars that we could transport in Tim's almost as short-lived scion. There's the table saw that let us re-do our entire kitchen and hand-make all of the cabinets that we bought off of craig's list. There's the cards my mom randomly sends with 20 bucks in them, somehow always during the week I'm thinking "How am I going to afford buying food for all the people coming over to my house in three days?" and so on.

It is amazing the intricate patterns God works in our lives. It's probably even more amazing, though in a different way, how often we forget or overlook this fact. He really and truly does never fail us and never leave us.

I always feel bad for those horses hooked up to carraiges in cities with their blinders on. I know its for safety reasons so they don't freak out at movements they see in their peripheral vision in the middle of city traffic, but that's just disconcerting. I can't handle not being able to see everything around me.

So why is it that when I can look around and see all that God's done in my life, sometimes I just look in one teeny direction and see what He hasn't and what I wish He would?

Probably a fault of human nature. But God didn't make mountains that He didn't mean for us to climb. So let get out our walking sticks.

Hard Work

If this post were a catch phrase for my junior high girls class - I'd say: "Relationships are Hard. Period." We make t-shirts with our easy to remember and fun to say phrases that remind us of life lessons.

I've been contemplating this one lately, for many reasons. As friends from college drift apart, I've discovered that I have many friends who aren't neccessarily willing to work at keeping the friendship. Not returning my calls, not really keeping updated on group blogs or facebook, etc. It happens, its not even really a bad thing, because life just changes with time. But sometimes I regret that I am willing to work to keep relationships going, but the other person isn't.
Young as I am, I've seen it in marraiges - often people are willing to make it work for their own selfish reasons, but not for their partner, not for the committment that they made to God and their spouse. So if their selfish reasons are overpowered by other things, they stop fighting for that committment. They stop working at it.
I've seen it in those relationships, if they can be called that, that consist of mostly just sex. That's the easy part. That's the fun part. Once it hits the real relationship, which requires sweat, tears, and hard work on both sides, one or both partners bail.
Maybe its good that I'm young and I already have learned this.

As I thought about this, I realized that it is a concept that many fail at applying to the relationships in their daily life, but may also fail to apply to their relationship to God. It's a two sided relationship, and God will never stop doing the work on his end. He will never stop loving you, chasing after you, talking with you, holding you in His hands. But we so often stop. We forget that it's a two-sided relationship, and instead it becomes This wierd sort of backwards zip-line. We sent God messages. We tell the Lover of Our Soul what we need and why we need it, and the conversation ends there.

Here's a picture from my marraige of what that ends up looking like (motivation aside). I am naturally a person who likes to keep things organized and neat looking. It doesn't have to be spotless, scrubbed clean, or sterilized, I just like surfaces and rooms to look put together. Every Saturday I do the laundry. I wash it, dry it, fold it, bring it upstairs, and put my clothes away. I leave my husband to put his clothes away himself. Sunday goes by. Monday goes by. Tuesday goes by. I don't address him putting his clothes away, because I am afraid that he will just shout at me or tell me to stop nagging and leave him alone, and then we'll both be mad and nothing will get done anyway. Wednesday goes by. What I've expected still has not happened. Thursday comes. On Friday night I sort the laundry in preparation for Saturday morning's first load. I need the laundry basket to carry the laundry downstairs to the washer. The basekt is still full of clean, folded and sorted laundry of my husbands. By Thursday, fed up with trying to wait and not tell my husband what I want him to do, I generally get snippy and say something like "you know its my biggest pet peeve for you to leave laundry sitting out for the entire week. Why can't you just take the forty seconds to put it away?" To which his response is guaranteed to be one of two things: "If it bugs you, why don't you put it away?" Or: "Stop nagging me."

Granted, this is a very ridiculous example of the kind of communication we are often guilty of in our relationship with Christ. We don't say anything for awhile, hoping life goes the way we want it to. When it doesn't we get mad and tell God exactly what we want or need, with a slight attitude since He hasn't seen fit to give us this before now. Sometimes it will never come. Sometimes, there will be piles of laundry covering the entire 4' x 2' section of our bedroom floor, clean and/or dirty. Sometimes, I should just be talking with my husband, strengthening our relationship, not waiting for him to figure out what I want and then yelling at him when he doesn't do it immidiately. Sometimes, God puts in 100% and more, and we sit on the ground, staring balefully up and wondering why this isn't as easy as we want it to be.

Relationships are hard work. Period.

We, too

I read a devotional today about Lazarus, about how his spiritual calling/gift was his incredible testimony. and the devotional ended thus: "we too, have died and been ressurected."

Sometimes we forget that. Sometimes I forget that, anyway. I remember to pray for my friends and family. and I remember to have patience, be kind, and trust God for the big stuff and the little.

But how often do I remember the new life I live, the resurrection made possible by Christ? In floating moments of worship at church, or in moments of acute contemplation. But rarely while I shower, drive, type, and do chores.

We too, have died and been ressurected. We too, have this great testimony to share.

Entire Sanctification: Mounthful of Jargon - or Hope?

Ah, the Nazarene Swirl - I mean doctrine. For those of you who are wondering, the Nazarene movement came just about a hundred years ago, from the Wesleyan Church, which came from
the Methodist/Puritan movement begun by John Wesley, that great linebacker.

The big breaking point for Nazarene's to compose their own denomination during the "holiness" movement was the phrase "entire sanctification.” It’s a weird theological point that goes hand-in hand with salvation.

The basic definition is that at some point after salvation, when sinners are covered by the blood of Jesus and forgiven their sins now and forevermore, we sinners should commit our every day to becoming more like Jesus. Not on our own strength, but on His own strength, a handy little fact with enormous possibilities. This is "entire sanctification" being covered and guided by the Holy Spirit to attain perfection.

When we are cloaked in the Holy Spirit, we, as sinful humans, have the possibility of becoming sinless. The sad reality is that in this life, on this earth, that is impossible. Then again, with God all things are possible, which means that at some points in time in our lives, we could indeed be “sinless.” If only for a moment. And underline this point: only because of Jesus' own blood and God’s own strength.

So in our strivings following salvation to live as Jesus’ would, he makes it clear that He will be the means, if we will be the vessel to focus on and strain towards a perfect life. One in which we always consider others’ needs before our own, consider our own wealth in this world not ours but those who need it, and maintain that the message of Jesus Christ should always be utmost in our actions and words.

It's a hard calling, and the “entire sanctification” that Nazarene’s preach is the message that it is possible to live as Jesus lived, even in today’s polluted, convoluted, and downright despicable world. With the cloak of sanctification – God’s act of making His people Holy – we can strive for His holiness to be the entire motivation for everything we do and say. Hence “entire.” It is entire in that God does nothing half way, and the possibility of being sinless, washed by His blood and living His choices is attainable, though not maintainable permanently on earth.

This is probably confusing to many, and I’ve heard it expressed in this way:

It’s like marriage vows. Depending on the wording, the vows expressed in that sacred commitment include to cherish, to care for, to love unconditionally, etc. Just because you made those vows does not mean you will remain in them at all times and never slip up, even miniscule-ly. What it does mean is that with those vows, you promise that every single day you walk this planet, you will put everything you have into committing to your spouse. There are days you mess up, but you know that ultimately those vows and that wedding day created an expectation and a possibility that you can be a part of the perfectly growing and loving marriage.

Thus, when you are entirely sanctified, you acknowledge that by His Grace, you are healed, and that you will go on from that moment in your life to spend every moment reaching for that sinless and perfect existence. It does not mean that you are perfect, but rather than the Holy Spirit deigns to make it possible to walk with Him and be like Him, though we are sinful in nature.

This is crazy theology here. Many people get the logic of this twisted, mainly because there is very little logic involved. God is rarely logical, seeing as His “mind” probably functions at a much higher level than our own as humans. His logic is Hope. His logic is Peace. His logic is the blatant acceptance of the worst of evils in order to present the cleanest and whitest of souls. It’s not supposed to make sense.

Some others misinterpret this line of theology, thinking that “entire sanctification” translates into instantaneous and eternal perfection – like the Amish and the Quakers try to pursue: a sinless existence. Sadly folks, good Nazarenes and everyone else in the world alike can acknowledge that humans will never be permanently without stain on this earth. No one is touting this.

What this theology stands firm upon is the unending Grace of God the Father. The idea that a being so exalted would make a point to come down to earth, die for every soul that has ever sinned against God, and then offer free shiny clothes and the possibility to become like Him.

Pretty much the best possibility I’ve ever heard of.

The Lord Gives.....working towards deliverance

Tonight at my young couples Bible study, one of the questions concerning our exploration of ecclesiastes was "Can you think of a time where you didn't feel like God was there, that He had let a bad thing happen?" The obvious answer is yes, so much of a resounding yes that I could not count the emotional memories connected to that question.
One of the guys that attends our bible study spoke up with a story I've heard before, that his grandfather was terminally ill with emphasima (sp?) during his college years, and then ended up dying. My friend said that the only saving grace that allowed this guy to keep his faith was that his grandfather was allowed to die at home in his own bed, surrounded by family. But even just the debilitating disease affecting the person my friend looked up to the most had an effect upon his faith. Though his grandfather was a devout catholic and was not bitter; the "why did this happen to a good man" question still lives in my friend's heart and soul. And not in a...safe, comforting way, like with time and perspective, or even just acceptance without understanding, he and his faith have grown. In a grudge-holding, hurt kind of way, and his relationship with God is handicapped because of it.

A similar thing happened to my father when he was in his twenties. His favorite and most respected friend, his grandfather, died. In that moment, my dad disowned his God. Not decided that God didn't exist, but rather that the God that did had no mercy for those who deserved it.

For years, he shouted at God, bitter and in pain about the death.

One day. In a church for the first time in years, with his new girlfriend who insisted that it was going to be with God or without her, my dad broke down in tears. I have never seen my dad cry in all of my life; not through pain, not through the birth of his children, not in joy. My mom says he bawled like a baby in the back of that church. And he saw his God again, not as the stranger and sinful being he had created God to be in his mind, but for who He is, and was, and is to come. A Just, Merciful, Grace-filled, Omnipotent God.

God did not kill either grandfather. Nor did He let either one die in an act of apathy.

Everything works together for the good of those who love him. As a pastor at my church would say "God always works towards deliverance." Though we cannot see it, though we cannot understand it, though it seems nonsensical to us, the everyday events of this world are always working towards deliverance. Evil still exists, and bad things happen because of our original choice in the garden and our choices now as sinful human beings, but God does prevail. He will always weave the events and relationships together for the good.

My friend and my dad demonstrate two ways to react to the sorrow that life may bring. One recovered his faith, and realized that God will give, and God will take away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. Though he slay me, yet I shall trust in Him.

Ratio of Care

I am constantly trying to remind myself that God knows and cares about all of these big unknowns in my life. But sometimes, something comes up that reminds me that God knows and cares about the tiniest details in my life.
Last night was one of those nights at the end of one of those days. I left for work at 7:45 a.m., spent three hours on my feet at a meeting I didn't need to be at, rushed around in heels planning an event, drove a half an hour after work to a meeting, drove back home and went to the gym, and then stopped by the store on the way home. I didn't get home until 9 p.m. At which point, Tim was out at his men's Bible Study, so I was all alone.
Feeling very solitary, I decided to call someone. One of my friend's is in China, two others didn't answer their phones, and my mom was busy. So I wallowed for a bit in my own lonliness. Then my phone rang! Excited, I picked it up, expecting a returned call from a friend. What I got was Houghton's fund. The girl making the call was a freshman at my alma mater, and seeing as this was only the third week of school, probably feeling overwhelmed. She sounded nervous and not sure what to say, so I eased her into a conversation. We talked for about fifteen minutes, giving advice, talking about the new experience and new england, where we both originated from. She left the call sounding much more confident in herself (even though I didn't give any money). I hung up feeling better, having just chatted with someone.

I stopped for a second, realizing that in the exact moment of my lonliness, God sent a ray of light. in an unexpected way, of course. But He didn't just pretend He didn't hear because I was whining again, He saw my need, essentially, knew my need, and provided exactly what I needed. I never cease to be amazed.

Lost the Identity

I used to wear an ID bracelet (that I conveniently ordered and then had my dad pick up from a jewlery store so he'd have to pay) that had the word "Beloved" engraved on it. It wasn't from my now-husband, Tim, or from a creepy secret admirer. I picked it out myself, to remind myself every day of my identity. Some say Identity in Christ, but I feel like that puts a clarifier on it. It doesn't need to be clarified. It's the entire foundational level of my identity, like the fact that I'm the eldest sibling, I look like my dad, I sound like my mom, I tell it like it is, I make things more dramatic, I don't waste time, I love to write, and my butt is always in good shape :) But before all of those things, before the nature, the nurture, the choices, is the ground zero of my life: I am God's Beloved.
Some of you may recognize the inspiration of my bracelet from Henri Nouwen, with good reason.

I read a devotional the other day, after a couple of recent rejections in one of those situations that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't please my editors. Side effect of being a writer. They know me, they like me, they just are impossible to match exactly sometimes. I was very frusterated and trying not to despair, telling myself: for every article that doesn't come to fruition by being published (and myself getting paid) there's another publication that has asked me to write for them. But logical math doesn't help the grieving woman!

The devotional, by the much-admired Max Lucado, discussed how rejection, on human terms, can hurt very deeply. But on a spiritual and emotional plane, maybe wallowing in that is ridiculous. If I know my Father in Heaven has not, will not, and cannot reject me, then what does it matter if silly, sinful people do? The most perfect Being there ever was, or ever will be, has declared that he will not let me go, will not let me fall, and will not ever send me packing. Ever. For as long as we both shall live.

So why should I lose my identity, my grounding, me, every time things don't go my way? Just because someone does not appreciate my effort or accept my hard work, so what? They can do whatever they want. The foundation, my Beloved status, will not be shaken. Houses with strong foundations are less likely to fall prey to natural disasters. If I trust in my foundation, why should itty bitty breezes, or even large gusts of wind knock me down?

I don't have that ID bracelet any longer. But I will remember the reason I bought it: To declair the definition of my life. To never forget who I am. Beloved.

Shouting = Faith

I am not the writer of this inspiring piece, its from Streams in the Desert; the september 4th reading:

"Now, no on can suppose for a moment that this shout caused the walls [of jericho] to fall. And yet the secret of their victory lay in just this shout, for it was the shout of a faith which dared, on the authority of God's Word alone, to claim a promised victory, while as yet there were no signs of this victory being accomplished. And according to their faith God did unto them; so that, when they shouted, He made the walls to fall. "

Steering Wheel

It was very dark, the kind of Pennsylvania dark with patches of fog, no streetlights, and no moon that night. My husband sat behind the wheel of my car, chauffering us home after a very long day at an amusement park. The last couple of rides we went on I was near tears from fear and exhaustion, and our quick bite at a local restaurant resulted in a salad drenched in too-strong dressing, which I picked the walnuts and chicken out of and left the soggy lettuce for a mere 9.99, and then felt my stomach upset on the ride back from the spicy dressing.
Needless to say I was a bit on-edge
My husband, wonderful man that he is, likes to drive slightly faster than me, and he also tends to brake more last-minute than myself. So as we're driving along curvy country roads in PA, I have my foot on an invisible brake on the passenger side of the car, trying to keep my dinner down, and I'm gripping the hand-rail on my door like my life depended on it. I just keep saying over and over again "Keep us safe, keep us safe," whether it be from a deer, a guardrail, or another dangerous driver on the road. I even closed my eyes for a moment, then snapped them back open because it made me even more nervous if I couldn't see where I was going.

This is the story of my life. I have kind of a bad day, and then when I sit in the passenger seat of my car, which I have promised to do because lets face it, God's always going to be the better driver for my life, I freak out. I try to fight the wheel back (God gently lets me have it until I willingly give it up again). I try to brake and turn when I'm not even the one driving. I grip the door like my life depends on it, when really, my life depends on me taking these curves with grace and flexibility. I can't even close my eyes to relax and enjoy the ride, I have to constantly have them wide open to make sure that I am in control, when really I should just acknowledge that I'm not, I gave up control of my life to Him. Sometimes I remember that, but often I forget.

When I'm riding a roller coaster, I have a set of motions I have to go through to beat the fear and get onto the ride. I have to be riding with someone who will let me hold their hand. I have to be strapped/buckled in as tightly as possible, even if it hinders respiration. As soon as the coastar starts scaling the first hill, I close my eyes. I keep them closed as we go up, up, up. At the top, as everyone pauses for breath, I screw my eyes shut as the camera snaps the photo and grip my faithful friend's hand in a death grip. As we fall down that first hill, I scream in terror.

And then I get over it. After the first, and inevitably biggest and most dramatic, drop, I'm fine. I put my hands up. I laugh a little. I yell. When I get off, I feel invigorated, ready to go again if the lines were shorter.

This is not the story of my life. But maybe it should be. I have to close my eyes, forcing myself to trust that no matter how high we go and how fast I fall, all will be as it should be and I will not be irreparebly hurt. The wind may rip at my hair, I may scream in fear, but all will be well, as Julia of Norwich would say.

Worth the Pain

I saw a sign on a small presbyterian church that I happened to be using to turn around in, and written in the largest letters that nearly engulfed the sign read "Love is worth the Pain"
A resounding thought, to say the least.
Now, having felt many types of love and many types of pain, I have joined the camp of "it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." However, I was not always a member of that camp, and sometimes I still go on hiatus from that camp when pain is very intense and I do not think the joys are worth the pains, momentarily.
It prompted pondering about all of the types of love and if they are worthwhile when you know or suspct (or don't expect) pain.

Love of a pet, who you are aware will most likely not outlive you.
Love for a child, requiring pain to bring into the world, pain as they grow, and pain as they move on.
Love for a spouse, possibly the easiest to cause pain to, and the most painful when hurt.
Love of a best friend, who doesn't always get it right and can cause you great pain.
Love of a sibling, which was probably founded on pain but has grown deep.
Love of a heavenly Father tht you cannot possibly understand, and who sometimes even seems to cause pain, or at least let it happen unhindered.
Love from a Creator, who sees His children hurt every second of every day by bad choices (theirs or others).

And that's just a few.

My point being exactly what that church sign said: "Love is worth the Pain." If it was not, where would God's Grace be? or rather, where would we, as a human race, be?

Safety

I defer to these two songs to much better express my gratitude for God's unending faithfullness and Grace:

"I will be Here" by Steven Curtis Chapman

Tomorrow morning if you wake up
and the sun does not appear
I will be here
If in the dark, we lose sight of love
Hold my hand, and have no fear
'Cause I will be hereI will be here
When you feel like being quiet
When you need to speak your mind
I will listen

And I will be here
When the laughter turns to cryin'
Through the winning, losing and trying
We'll be together
I will be here

Tomorrow morning, if you wake up
And the future is unclear
I will be here
Just as sure as seasons were made for change
Our lifetimes were made for these years
So I will be here

I will be here
And you can cry on my shoulder
When the mirror tells us we're older
I will hold you
And I will be here
To watch you grow in beauty
And tell you all the things you are to me
I will be here
I will be true to the promise I have made
To you and to the One who gave you to me

Tomorrow morning, if you wake up
And the sun does not appear
I will be here
Oh, I will be here.


"Your Grace Still Amazes Me" by Phillips, Craig, and Dean

My faithful Father, enduring Friend
Your tender mercy’s like a river with no end
It overwhelms me, covers my sin
Each time I come into Your presence
I stand in wonder once again

CHORUS: Your grace still amazes me
Your love is still a mystery
Each day I fall on my knees
Your grace still amazes me
‘Cause Your grace still amazes me

Oh, patient Saviour, You make me whole
You are the Author and the Healer of my soul
What can I give You, Lord, what can I say
I know there’s no way to repay You
Only to offer You my praise

Your grace still amazes me
Your love is still a mystery
Each day I fall on my knees
Your grace still amazes me
‘Cause Your grace still amazes me

It’s deeper, it’s wider It’s stronger, it’s higher
It’s deeper it’s wider It’s stronger, it’s higher
than anything my eyes can see

Your grace still amazes me
Your love is still a mystery
Each day I fall on my knees
Your grace still amazes me
‘Cause Your grace still amazes me

Dwelling

Last night, as I lie away thinking of the business of the next day, I began to let my mind wander in my exhaustion. For some reason, I find that when my mind is tired and I'm too sleepy to control it, my thoughts start sorting through all of my failures, and try to find any bitterness hiding out in my brain. I don't understand why, at one of the most vulnerable times of the day, my thoughts begin to wallow in the pain of past emotions. Inevitably, my dreams become affected by the negative wanderings before I fell asleep.
So last night, as I thought of the harsh moments in my life, I tried to shake myself out of it, literally saying to myself: "Stop dwelling in these places, they can ruin your entire attitude."

And then I stopped.

Because the word "dwelling" evokes so many scriptural references my mind is suddenly flooded, and not by darkness, but by light.

Psalm 4:8 "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, Oh Lord, make me dwell in safety." Probably the most comforting words I've ever heard in my life.

Psalm 23:6 "Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

John 1: 14 "The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us. We have seen His glory..."

Ephesians 3:17 "So that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith."

and perhaps most appropriate:

Isaiah 43:18 "...forget former things, do not dwell on the past."

Though I'm pretty sure at the time in grade school I only memorized verses to recieve a prize, I'm truly reaping the rewards today and tomorrow. In moments of trial, even minimal, late at night confusion trials, the Lord's words 'dwelling' within me is His perfect gift.

As Jesus started many of His parables "The kingdom of heaven is like..." I believe that the Kindom of Heaven is like dwelling. With God, in His Son, in the power and presence of the Holy Spirit, in the peace and safety and joy of simply


dwelling.

"From the Inside Out" - Hillsong

A song from this weekend's service:

A thousand times I've failed
Still your mercy remains
And should I stumble again
Still I'm caught in your grace

Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades
Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame
In my heart, in my soul, Lord I give you control
Consume me from the inside out Lord
Let justice and praise become my embrace
To love You from the inside out

Dependence

So this weekend I attended church service alone, as my husband committed nearly four hours to ministering to 7 year old boys (more power to people like him!). The sanctuary of any of my home churches has always been my thinking place. They don't call it 'the sanctuary' at the church I currently attend, probably for some evangelical cutting edge vocabulary reason (I believe they refer to it as the 'auditorium,' which evokes memories of grade school talent shows and choral concerts. entirely not the same idea), but I refer to it as such regardless. The sanctuary is what it sounds like: a safe place, a place of rest and refuge and release. A place where inspiration can abound because the pressure, for one hour, is off. It doesn't matter that you didn't finish that project or that you're fighting with a friend or that your air conditioner is broken. God is here, and you are here, and that's all that matters (though both of those cases should be viewed as constants in our every day lives, but thats a different discussion).
Sitting in a cushy chair all by myself, waiting for the lights to dim and the band to start playing, I let my mind wander in conversation with God, consciously blotting out all other directions. I think about how I'm sorry for the stupid thing I said to my husband earlier. About how I need to work on certain areas of my spiritual life. about how I'm sorry that I'm emotional and I get all stirred up over little things when I should just remain in God's peace.
and then it hits me. the feelings I'm going over in my brain and the reactions I've been having all day show a lack of one thing: dependence.*
I'm depending on a relationship to determine my mood, my reactions. I'm depending on a project, on a plan, on a life event. All of these can be good things and determine good moods, but they can also spiral downward and evoke not-so-good moods.
But with dependence, namely on the One Who Created Me, that roller-coaster of feeling I so often find myself fighting to get off of could dissapear. I would still have feelings, a fight-or-flight reaction, jealousy and fear and hope, but they would be rooted in the "peace that transcends all understanding"**
Its like a compas. Or a solid foundation amidst the sands on a beach. Or a pole to grasp in the subway as it twists and turns. Or a life jacket. Or headlights on a rainy day. Or a friend's hand to hold on tight to.
Dependence on God is what produces this transcendant peace. And that peace, provided by the One and Only, is the staying factor in any and every situation. The piece that holds it all together, and literally keeps everything from falling apart. As the poingant line from A Tale of Two Cities intones, "The wind is rushing after us, and the clouds and flying after us, and the moon is plunging after us, and the whole wild night is in pursuit of us..." everything in the world may seem to be against us, but with dependence on Christ, our foundation cannot crumble.



















*see blog entitled "intensity of emotion."
** Phillipians 4:7

Flying through a window?

This morning, I listened to the "meditation moment," the politically correct spiritual thought of the week provided by our head director of spiritual care. The thoughts range from silly to sobering each week. This week, I heard the director's voice start out "once there was a woman who noticed a fly trapped in her kitchen..."
He continued to describe how the woman observed the fly running over and over again into the closed window, searching for the fresh air and light outside. Feeling sympathetic, the woman walked over and opened her back door. With the door wide open and a fresh breeze sliding in from outdoors, the fly continued to run into the solid glass of the window.

I have rarely heard a better example of what we so often do with life choices. We decide that this is the way we want to go, we think that this is the opportunity, the choice, the position that we will spend time and energy to gain. Sometimes, our determination pays off and everything is as it should be, as God wished it to be. But I think more often than not, our decision reflects that of the fly hitting the window. There is a wide open door less than ten feet away, with all of the tantalizing scents and offerings of where we belong, but we blindly continue to plod on in our choice because we either can't or won't see the other possibilities God has in store.

God grant me the wisdom to see the difference...

Potential gods and godesses

Earlier I was reading a quote from C.S. Lewis' sermon entitled "The Weight of Glory." He notes that, "It is a serious thing, to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you sw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship [a resident of heaven]...it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another...There are no 'ordinary' people. You have never talked to a mere mortal..."

C.S. Lewis invokes both the awareness of the Kingdom of Heaven and the remembrance that we are made in God's image, two powerful perspectives to highlight our everyday interactions. Its quite a lot to think about: the person who nearly rammed my car making an illegal u-turn on sunday could someday be my dinner partner in heaven; the neighbors accross the street who only speak in shout volume and only after 10 o'clock at night, and only outside on the street were made in the image of the One True God; the professor who questioned my integrity and shook the foundations on which I built my character may be the first one to greet me in heaven. Self-righteousness is not a virtue, but I feel that many of us, especially those who walk with God, often fall prey to this fissure of sin.

To be clear, Lewis is not touting tolerance or indulgence as the Way. He clarifies, "[take] each other seriously--no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner..."

To slough off the sin of self-righteousness is not to take on the un-biblical burden of tolerance. It is to love the sinner deeply, to cherish them in their image of God and possibility of eternity, and to encourage them along the way. Not to say "I cannot love you because you sin," nor to say, "its okay, I will love you and the sin because that is who you are," but to say "I cannot accept your sin as the best reflection of the heavenly being you were meant to be, but I love you within and through the sin."

I don't think that position is easy to find. I don't think its like walking along a wide trail through a flat prairie holding hands with all of the Christians and non-Christians alike. I think its a balance beam. You know, the ones you see skinny gymnasts doing backflips on that look to be about 2 inches wide? In reality, the balance beam is four inches wide and usually four feet off the ground. Its a dangerous distance to spin and leap and flip around. But that is the narrow path we are called to. Not to avoid others and consider them below us. Not to become dragged down and fall in the trough. Though there are supposed to be mats on the floor to protect you, often in life there are no mats, and sometimes there seems to be no floor, just an endless fall. Merely to come alongside them and help them balance on their own 4" wide beam. The key is to stay on the beam, hold your brothers and sisters up no matter what you think they do or do not deserve, and continue on this journey loving deeply and treasuring people. All people, because they are made in the image of our God, and they are, just like you and me, chosen by Him to be a part of His family.

Waiting Room

The times spent in waiting rooms of Dr.’s offices are always awkward. The most common, of course, is the doctor's office. You're surrounded by moms with children, elderly folks who smell and aren't aware of it, and teenagers that are either very tan or very very pale. The small children hit a toy over and over again on the little plastic table, making your groggy head feel worse. The smell of the babies' diaper whimpering next to you joins the wafting from the elderly gentlemen across from you. The muted strumming of the acoustic guitar and the wailing trumpet that sometimes makes it through the cacophony of non-muted coughs and clearing of mucous from the respiratory system. The nurses in their bright, multi-colored scrubs with cartoons dancing on them provide a kaleidoscope effect to your numbed senses. You sign several forms with a pen that runs out of ink randomly throughout your insurance information, which makes you hope that someone else gets charged the deductible. You can't remember if you put on deodorant, or maybe that’s just the teenager next to you.
Waiting rooms are never for good reasons. You don’t go there when you took a vacation day, or when you want to enjoy the sunshine or want to relax. Only problems (yours or someone else’s) send you to waiting rooms. Sometimes trivial but chronic symptoms, sometimes much larger issues.
Sometimes I feel like I’m in the waiting room in my life. Nothing around me seems to uplift me or encourage me, everything drags me down and depresses me. It’s grimy, unsettling, uncomfortable, and I feel gross.
Rick Warren, in a devotional, says of his time spent in a waiting room, “you just need to stop and trust God. He’s never late or in a hurry, because His timing is perfect.”
That phrase struck me right where I sat in my waiting room of life. It didn’t give me some euphoric feeling that everything will be sunshine and daisies, but it reminded me that on the other side of that waiting room door, the Maker of the Universe sits, loving me, asking me to lean on Him, and mercifully encouraging me to realize that His timing is perfect.

Intensity of Emotion (a.k.a. chaotic passion)

I'm the type of person that talks to myself in my head. Don't worry, there are no multiplicities up there, but while on the exterior I will appear calm and productive, on the inside I could be having a nervous breakdown. This bodes well for keeping my vocational endeavors, but does nothing for my mental health.
The reason I talk to myself in my head most often, other than when I make some sort of blunder I didn't mean to (forgetting to lock the bathroom door in a unisex restroom and looking up blankly as the CEO strode in), is the everyday challenge to put the passion I feel into my activities. The problem there is not so much that I do not sport passion as a main characteristic, nor that I am unsure of how to apply my enthusiasm and excitement to my mundane daily life. Its more that I have so much passion that I cannot seem to find a middle ground on which to display it.
When I say middle ground, I mean an in-between stage that entails an enthusiastic but steady level of passion to demonstrate my love for (fill in the blank), without tipping to the overly dependent on outcome side, or the apathetic side. Those are the two norms I excel at.
For example, if there's a writing opportunity I find out about, I will do everything needed to secure the story or possibility. I will maintain regular contact, provide writing samples, speak with individuals on the phone, conduct preliminary research, and make it presistently clear that I have all of the passion required (along with the experience and skills) to make it happen with style and pizzazz.
But sometimes it doesn't work out. Then in my head, the discussion starts. "Just stop caring. It's not your problem. You're still great at what you do. Stop depending on stuff like that. Be self-confident. Be independent, not dependent," and so on. In essence, in my brain I tell myself that to survive everyday dissapointments, I need to be apathetic. Which is impossible.
So I yo-yo back and forth, up and down. Agressive, full of life, determined, on-the-ball, dissapointed. One day I told myself "I wish I could buy stock in dissapointment, I would be making a fortune by now."
I had this very conversation in my head this morning, when I was about to open an email with the deciding fate of an opportunity I was expectant and happy about the possibility, but apprehensive enough to save the email for later, when the cementing or shattering of the idea would not effect the whole rest of my day.
I lasted until about ten thirty. When I opened the email, I found a short and straightforward response: the door was closed to me.
While my brain starting yelling about how I should not let this affect me, my body did the right thing by picking up the phone and calling to leave a thank-you message for the solid communication. My brain continued discoursing on all of the ways I am awesome and how I should keep looking to do what I love. Only my brain was telling me to find the openings, make my excitement for the possibility known, and then forget about it. That way, if I stop hoping and waiting on finding out if the window is open and I can fly through, I won't be let down when and if I get rejected. Again.
So the conversation continues. While my brain is intelligent (I like to think), it does not know everything. Yes, the logical side argues to remain apathetic and hope will not be dismayed. The logical side, in as far as it can see or feel, is correct.
But it does not apply to the rest of me. For the logical side is void of passion, exuberance, and glow. The rest of me (body, spirit, emotions) are filled with those qualities, and thus, I cannot be
apathetic.
But nor can I maintain this draining level of passion for everything. Thus, finding the middle ground.

I haven't discovered how to do that yet.

Except.

There's this one thing. Not a breaking of emotion, nor discarding of heart, but a tempering. A solidifying and calming of the strength within me. I cannot do the tempering myself, as we have seen. but Someone can.


and He is faithful.

Serene

Grant Me the Serenity

I have always been jealous of women whose faith is serene. I knew a woman when I was in high school; she was the mother of one of my friends, who contracted a rare form of cancer. I saw her accept the diagnosis, fight for all she was worth, and recover from the crippling disease. She is now a beautiful, healthy woman again. Throughout the entire process, she always seemed full of faith, calm, and completely waiting on God. I have a friend whose husband was called to his military duty as a marine in Iraq shortly after their first child was born. She rallied her friends and family around to support her while she raises the little one, and again, she seems serene as she plays with her tiny baby girl, serene in her faith that no matter what happens, God is right next to her, holding “the whole world in His hands.”
I don’t think I have ever been serene. Not when I was a child, with my rambunctious spirit and bouncing curls, not as a teenager, determined to get the best grades, save for college, and be a strong leader in the youth group. Not in college, when my determination grew even more, to graduate at least a semester early, to earn not one degree but two, to hold two or three jobs at a time, and to become a visible and effective leader of the student body. Not in my marriage, where I discovered that mortgages can be stressful, houses tend toward disrepair, and compromise is a necessary component. Not in my career, where I am always committed to doing my job better than expectations and where I always push the bar a step higher, yet where I find few employers are willing to give me a chance to explore my full potential.
Serene, sometimes I think, is incompatible with me. With the economy in America. With the busyness that we are raised to launch towards, the immediate satisfaction we strive for. Serene sounds too much like an old novel, with a picnic near a lake, swans floating nearby, where there are no cars breaking down or bosses getting angry or trying to survive on oatmeal and bananas. Serene no longer exists in the 21st century, as far as I can tell.
But then I open my Bible. My Bible is full of strife, just like my life. In the first year of marriage alone, I have been unemployed twice, my husband once, we have totaled my husbands car, bought a house, replaced a dryer, water heater, ceiling fan, several parts of my rapidly aging car, and eaten a lot of hot dogs in an effort to stay afloat financially. We have no t.v., try to shower at the gym to save our water bill, and my husband has become Mr.-Fix-It in times when we find a gaping hole in the side of our house or when my car breaks. In the Bible, most strife is worse than my economic and personal struggles. David had the man who was once like a father to him out to kill him. He became king but committed adultery, lost the respect of two of his sons, and let his daughter be raped with no punishment for her attacker. Elijah wandered alone, feeling abandoned, in a land riddled with drought, knowing that he was one of the last prophets. Judas betrayed the one man who saved us all, and died a horrible death. Job suffered endless trouble, all for his faith in the one God.
But unlike in my life, the Bible is also full of serenity. Of peace. Of those who knew that there was a time for strife and a time for blessing. Of Faith. Hebrews has an entire chapter dedicated to those who showed that they were faithful even when they did not understand anything going on around them. Take Rahab, who let strangers from another land into her house inside the city walls of the fortress of her country, hid them from the authorities, and then lowered them outside the city walls in a basket so that they would be safe. I bet she was serene during that entire event.
In the Bible, strife and serenity seem to go hand in hand to those who carry faith in God. In Peterson’s paraphrase of the Bible, The Message, he writes of Jeremiah 17:7 “But blessed is the man who trusts me, God, the woman who sticks with God. They’re like trees replanted in Eden, putting down roots near the rivers – never a worry through the hottest of summers, never dropping a leaf, Serene and calm through droughts, bearing fresh fruit every season.”
I want to be a tree that doesn’t worry. A tree that no matter where I am or what I’m going through, I feel like I am in paradise, and I know that even though I can’t see water right now and I haven’t seen it in a long time because of a drought, that it will come. That I will never have to go a season alone, that I will always bear fruit as I trust in God. That strife, though I use it to become worrisome and restless, is supposed to build faith in my Maker so that I can come to embody that word that seems so foreign: serene.
God grant me the serenity….Amen.