Generational Grace

It's no secret that this year at home has been very VERY hard for me.  This weekend was the first time I went back up to Tallahassee after graduation.  Everyone was asking "So how are you?" and with my friends - my sweet, wonderful friends - that means, "tell me about your heart.  right now."  So I had to tell people, "I'm okay.  it's been hard.  three jobs in as many months that I've lost.  but I'm okay." Only I had just gotten fired.  So I wasn't really okay, but I was trying to be, and I wasn't letting myself think about how scared, how hopeless, and how angry I was.

I let myself have a moment on Friday night, with my mom in the car.  I questioned God's motives.  I questioned God's presence in my life.  Cause I have friends who seem to get everything, and I mean EVERYTHING they want or would like to have from God.  And I can't see why God favors them over me for His blessing.  Please notice here the sin of comparison and discontent - I'm SO good at this, guys.  Favorite sin. I questioned God's faithfulness to me.  I never really doubted, but sometimes I just have to let those things out.  I felt like Job - so much like Job.  I was scolding God through my mom, but really I just wanted God to come down from heaven and tell me He is who He says He is.  to prove it isn't just words on a page.  I'm somewhat lucky He didn't decide to prove it by striking me with lightening this weekend.  There was plenty of opportunity.

Anyway, to the point of this post.  Which is basically external processing.  During my fit of jealousy and hopelessness, God did remind me of who He is and what He is doing in my life. 

I went home (actually to my sister's house...) after meeting with some sweet and very dear friends and found out I had lost yet another job through no fault of my own.  That was the breaking point.  I couldn't handle this anymore.  I held it in as long as I could, but eventually that moment in the car with mom happened.  The rest of the evening was spent in complaining and whinging and basically being as morose as I could be again, I'm pretty good at that kind of thing.

Then I woke up Saturday.  I had breakfast with a woman who cares about me, who always tries to help me see beyond my situation and look to Jesus.  I didn't want to, but women you respect and who you know well have a way of making you do what you don't want to do in such a way you don't mind doing it.  I followed breakfast with a meeting with a woman I had mentored and cared for.  This beautiful, sweet woman cared for me without even knowing she was.  She ministered directly to my broken and aching heart by showing me God had used me in her life.  I wasn't even interested in taking the credit - God had done everything.

So I was feeling a little better.  But I was still not up to praising God again or recognizing His power at work in my life.  This was hers - He was working in her.  not in me.  So despite the enormous blessing of seeing the second of the three girls I mentored for a year or more in a more grown-up and spiritually mature place than when I met her, I still didn't see what God was telling me.  Despite the admonition I'd received from my mentor to be attentive.

Then everything changed.  That night, at my sister's AMAZING recital and a dear friend's equally astonishing recital (same recital, two star performers...) my third beautiful and amazing disciple came to me, and introduced the girl she was mentoring.  Christine, the lovely, wonderful girl I was meeting for the first time, looked at me and said "So you're my spiritual Grandma, right?"

At that moment it was like I'd entered the twilight zone and everything stood still.  I processed a ridiculous amount all at once, flashing back to a meeting I'd had with my girls (each separately) explaining the idea of discipleship and spiritual generations.  I took them to Isaiah 54 and showed them the verses that I believed God had used to promise me spiritual generations.Isaiah 54:1-5

In the midst of my craziness, God was telling me He was fulfilling promises still.  And He continued.  On Sunday I met Carrie, and understood my tent is becoming very large indeed.  And it's all God.  For God, through God, with God, by God.

And I have very little left to complain about.

Co-op Farming - the importance of community to a Christian lifestyle

Poor guy - he's really kinda irrelevant in the whole process

While reading this morning, I came across an interesting fact.  In farming, human work and care only has about 5% to do with the crop that actually comes up.  Which is interesting to me.  So many other factors have to be present, or the best care in the world can't achieve any kind of fruitful harvest.  There has to be so much potassium, so much nitrogen, and so many other things already existing in the soil - the farmer can't really put them there.   Then there's climate.  Only so much rain, only so much sun, only so many cold spells, only so much heat.  It's really kind of exhausting to think about all the work that goes in and how it only matters a small percentage.  This is why I'll never EVER be a farmer. 
The context of my reading had to do with the parable of the Sower, in Matthew 13:1-23.  You know the story - the one where Jesus is talking about the Word of God as a seed.  Anyway, at the end He tells about the seed that fell in good soil, and how it produces 30-100 times that of the other seeds.

I began to think about the soil in my own heart - wondering what condition it was in, what I could do to improve the conditions in my heart.  I began to think about what kind of fruit I was producing.  And I was comparing fruit not only of discipleship, but also fruit of the Spirit.  You know, from Galatians 5 (and that really fantastic Steve Green kid's song...) where it talks about "love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self control"  (which I only ever remember because of that song...).  I began to wonder what other things contribute to the growth of fruit in my own life.  What are the climate and soil conditions that influence the size of my harvest?  What kind of fruit have I grown, and what can I do to grow the rest?

The main thing I can come up with is that it's this whole community farming idea.  To produce certain fruit, it will be better if you surround yourself with certain nutrients.

Warning: I'm gonna get real here.

I'm gonna go ahead and say that I've grown some love, some patience, kindness, and goodness already.  I have been told by others they're there.  I'm seeing some longsuffering starting to bud as well as some self-control.  Peace is struggling along.  But I'm really lacking joy in my life.  I am not a very joyful person right now.  Mom and I were discussing it last night.  So, obviously, it needs some help.

So I did a quick investigation about why joy isn't growing well.  Don't get me wrong - there's a little yellow leaf on the joy plant.  BUT it's yellow, it's droopy, and it's just not very healthy.

It might have something to do with the unemployment, the bills to pay, the car-less-ness and a bunch of other stuff that just doesn't seem to be going right.  But I'm a big proponent of the idea that a Christian's joy is not dependent on their circumstances.  A Christian's joy should come out of someplace different.

I want that joy, but I'm feeling so bogged down by my circumstances. I'm trying to look beyond the circumstances and upward to Christ and find my joy in Him, but it's hard on my own when everything is weighing my head down.  And I'm not surrounded by the most joyful people at home.  Cause we're all in the same situation.  We're all stuck.

Some nutrient just isn't to be found in my home soil.

Which means it needs to be brought in by somebody.

That's where this whole idea of co-op farming comes in.  If I'm in community that's paying attention to the way things are going on the farm, they're gonna see that the amount of joy in me is not producing fruit.  They should ask me questions to diagnose the problem: Are you in the Word? yes.  Are you in prayer? yes.  Are you LISTENING to God's voice? trying.  Are you in community? yes. 

A bunch of college kids in a co-op.  Look how joyful they are!

They should probably see what needs to be done.  I'm thinking joy is like mulch - you gotta spread it around a little - especially where people don't want it around and don't produce it on your own.  At first, the un-joy-full person is annoyed.  It stinks.  But then it works its way down into your heart and begins to help that flower bloom, just like the nutrients in the mulch.

But I don't have mulch.  Cue the Co-op idea.  Someone who has it should pile it on! And then, when my harvest comes in, and they need a little of what they helped me produce, I should share what I've gotten.  After all, I am only responsible for 5% of the harvest.  Everything else is God and others used by God to get the results He wants.

Unemployment

(originally started Jan. 14th)

Yesterday at church something interesting happened.  I worshipped.  Not just empty, ritualistic, mainly-cause-it's-right-and-I-owe-it-to-God worship, but heartfelt, soul reviving worship.

At this point, let me say something.  There is nothing wrong with worshiping because God deserves it, if that's all you can muster.  At least you're worshiping.  But my heart has been hungry for something more for a VERY long time.

I've been craving a soul-revitalizing worship experience, where I say words with my heart full, not just with my emptiness of words.  Sometimes, I feel like all I have to give is that empty word worship.  Sometimes, I'm so exhausted that I want to be with God desperately, but my heart just is so heavy that it's hard for me to lift it into God's hands.  And the problem is I've been focused on my problems and my self and how God has to fix it.  And it's sinful.  And I'm broken.  And I would go into this worship with all that weighing on me.

Yesterday was different somehow.

Nothing has changed.  I'm still on the edge of unemployment, with bills to pay.  I'm still inching nearer to my 24th birthday, with nothing really to show for nearly a quarter century of life.  I'm still living at home, failing to be able to care for my self of my sisters who are in similar situations.

But right before I went into worship, I acknowledged something important:

That God knows what He's doing.  He's not let me fail yet, and He's not in the business of letting people fail.

I was talking to one of the ladies in my Sunday School class.  And I was choosing to believe what I was saying.  Not that I didn't believe it before.  I just said it.

I guess sometimes, that whole "confess with your mouth" idea really is essential. 

A Call to Discipleship - Woman to Woman

It's no secret that one of the things that preoccupies my life is contemplating the differences between men and women, and the roles that they occupy.  I believe that when we were created "in His image" as "male and female" each gender was given a specific role, a specific way to tell the world who God is.

I recently had a very dear friend, one of my fab five, comparing her way of ministry to her husband's way of ministry, and somehow feeling like she was coming up short.  I know how she feels.  When I'm doing ministry, I don't want my results to look different from any man's.  And I'm not even comparing myself to someone so specific.  She was concerned that her view on what a disciple-maker is was somehow flawed, even though she feels very convinced of the way she cares for other women.

So I've been poking around.  :)

Interestingly, I'm preparing to pitch an idea for a women's mentoring program at my local church.  And in contemplating the pitch, God instructed me to throw what I considered a curve ball.

My vision for teaching about women's call to discipleship came from Matthew 25:31-46.

read it here (before going on)

Okay, let's get the stuff we're not gonna be dealing directly with out of the way.

Sheep = Believers
Goats = Pretenders

Son of Man = Jesus Christ

Good.  Got that done.  Now in giving the passage a cursory glance, we see that the difference between those separated as "sheep" and those separated as "goats" is not that one produces wool and one produces delicious cheeses.  That would be weird.  The difference is the amount of care provided to others.  Sheep feed the hungry.  Sheep clothe the naked.  Sheep shelter the wanderers.  Goats do not do all of these things.

Now let's dig a little deeper.  I hope that if you are reading this, you consider yourself a sheep.  I hope you think you'd feed, clothe, and shelter the less fortunate in the name of Christ, but yesterday, I delved into a whole new realm of meaning. 
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What kind of hunger are we talking about?  What kind of nakedness?  What kind of wandering?

According to Maslow's heirarchy of needs, one needs to have the physical needs taken care of.  But after those are taken care of, a whole new realm of needs opens up for those enlightened individuals who can discover them.

Spiritual needs.

Every individual on earth is struggles with spiritual hunger, spiritual nakedness, and spiritual wandering.  These needs will always be there, slowly tugging us toward something to fill those needs.  That's where a woman's role in discipleship comes in.

Feed the spiritually hungry.
Clothe the spiritually naked.
Shelter the spiritually wandering.

Interestingly, the Good Wife in Proverbs 31 is shown doing, primarily, actions to address hunger, nakedness, and wandering.

verses 15-16 see her rising early and working hard to provide for her family and her servants
verses 21-22 talk specifically about the clothing she makes
verse 20 sees her providing for wanderers, reaching out her hands to those who need her help.

But she also is shown to do these things on an abstract level.  She "dresses herself" with strength and dignity, she opens her mouth with wisdom and kindness (feeding others).

So this is the role of a woman.  And in Titus 2:3-5 Paul instructs Titus to have the older women teach the younger women these things.  And in teaching the younger women these things, the older women are spiritually feeding, clothing, and sheltering the younger women; they are teaching them to do the same.

This is what a Woman's Way of Discipleship looks like.  Our primary objective should be to feed, clothe, and shelter.  To take care of others.  Men in the bible are consistently giving each other charges, battle plans, and sending each other out.  Women are hanging back, providing the much-needed home defense as the men go out on the offense.  Sure, there are times when roles overlap (like in the case of Deborah in the book of Judges).  But a woman's primary function is to nurture, to care, and to teach.  That's how God made us.  We are not so much the banner careers, or the front line fighters.  We hold down the fort.  Without us it would fall.  And when we do our job, we rock at it.

So this begs the question: Women, are you feeding, clothing, and sheltering?  Are you doing your job?  Or are you leaving the back door open while expecting the men to meeting the battle head-on?

Love Story of a Recovering Sinner

As I was wallowing in my misery the other day, facing a mountain I couldn't climb, I remembered kinda what got me facing the mountain in the first place.  I have this insatiable desire to PLEASE EVERYONE.  no matter the emotional or mental cost to my self.  Living that way is a challenge, to say the least.  But it's exceptionally challenging when you're trying to please God, too.

See I have this idea that I'm not lovable.  So I have to MAKE people love me by being amazing.  I try really really hard.  And most of the time, it works.  People love me.  But then they don't love me for who I am, they love me for how I make them feel, or what I do for them.  So I'm left feeling just as empty as before.  The only love I have is the love I create by making myself indispensable.  oh, THAT's why I'm always busy, stressed out and tired.

This might seem quite all right to you, but it has bigger repercussions.  I can't believe that God loves me for me, either.  I believe He loves me when I'm doing something for His kingdom (like leading Bible Study or doing evangelism) but when I'm NOT performing up to par (like recently).  (Up to par in my head is leading a bible study, praying with other women on a regular basis, basically being a busy Christian woman doing Christian woman things and not having time to think).  So there's this big mountain that I've built between me and God, separating us because of my attitude toward Him.  I can't experience His love completely, and I can't experience His blessings.  Sounds like that whole idea of sin, right?  Oh, right.  Sin.

So yesterday, I was sitting there, in Macy's Taste Bar physically, but mentally I was facing this huge mountain.  I want to be on the other side, to see and experience the beauty and majesty on that side of the mountain.  To set up my tent and just...stay there.  But I can't get there on my own.  No matter how hard I try to make people love me, I can't move that mountain.  And it's getting in the way of the love I want, know is mine, and God wants to give me.

Then, Jesus comes from around the other side of the mountain.  Well, actually, I'm not sure how he got there.  He has this habit of just APPEARING randomly, especially when I'm pouting.

Hey Sweetheart, let me help you move this mountain.

AND like any truly hopeless woman, I said to Him:

Good luck, mister.  I been workin' on this here mountain for far too long.  I just wanna get to the other side, but it's impossible to get there.

Then I turned my back on the man and continued to pout.

ok, so maybe the dialect on that was not characteristic of yours truly, but that's how it's running in my head.

I can do it.  I'll move this whole mountain for you.  Will you marry me?

Excuse me? Run that last part by me again...

I said, will you marry me?

*dramatic pause*  Is this a trick?

 Then He laughs, shakes His head, turns His back, and starts digging.  WITH His bare hands.

Now look, I've known this guy for a long time.  He's really not all that impressive at first.  Short curly hair, dark skin, muddy brown eyes.  Kinda short...although He has great muscle definition.  Probably from digging at mountains with nothing but His bare hands.  We've been friends for a long time - since I was three.  When I was 18 He went from being my childhood friend to being my best friend.  Sometimes we go a really long time without talking - usually because I'm angry or ignoring Him.  We're coming off a stint of not talking for a while, at least not really about anything important.  Story is, I got angry and confused and He didn't tell me His plans, so I figured I'd do things my way.  Then I got into a mess and He saved me from it and I was licking my wounds for a while.  I shifted my focus from my relationship with Him to making His Dad love me despite me. (The fact that He and His Dad are really the same person doesn't necessarily always compute...)

Another reality is I promised to marry this guy a long time ago.  Like, when I was three.  I didn't understand it then, but I promised.  And we were married.  And then, because I didn't really understand what I promised, I got distracted and started not acting like I was married.  Then He pulled me out of a bad situation, and I remembered.  And then I forgot.  And then I remembered.  And then I forgot.  And now He was asking me to marry Him...again.

I turn around to look at Him - this man I married so long ago.  Somehow, watching Him work for me turns a key in some lock in my heart, I got up, and walked over.

Hey, what are you doing?

He smiles.  I take a minute to look at Him again.  His muddy brown eyes are serious, going about his business like it was the only thing that mattered.  I remembered that it was looking into those eyes that always made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered.  But I know Him better than that.  Everyone matters to this man.  His heart is so...pure.  So full of love.  For everyone.  Which makes me feel even more humbled that He would spend this time with me, when so many others need and deserve His time. 

I suddenly am hit by the reality that He's sweating, like His clothes are drenched.  As I'm looking at Him, I also see His hands.  The old scars that have been there since I met Him have opened and started bleeding.  Bleeding badly.

Jesus, You're bleeding.

Yeah, these old scars open up every time I do something like this.

Does it hurt?

Not as much when you're talking to me again.  It's always worth it just to hear your voice.  I wish you wouldn't stop talking to me.  The silence hurts more than these old wounds.

This is silly.  Let me do this.  It's my mess.  My mountain to move.

You already tried, Remember? you can't by yourself.  I have to.  But if you like, you could help me.  We could work on taking apart this mountain together.

Will it hurt?

Yes.  But you won't bleed like I am.  I'll do all the really hard stuff.

Okay.   

We work together in silence.  My hands are all chapped after a while, but it's good to be working with Jesus.  He has this song He sings to make the work go by easier, and His voice is beautiful.  I know a few verses, and the chorus, so I sing with Him when I can, but when I can't I'm content to just listen.  Every once in a while, I make a mistake and He takes over to fix the mess.  I feel awful, but he comes to comfort me, telling me I'm still learning and I'm not expected to be perfect yet.  And I look into His eyes and see no disappointment there, only overwhelming love.  I start to cry and He wipes my tears away.  He holds me comfortingly and kisses my cheek, and we just sit for a while, Him and me.

  You know what?

Nope.  No idea.

I love you.

Jesus, You always say that.    

It's always true.  Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, Forever.  I'll always love you.

I love you too.

I know.  Just don't forget again, please. 

And then He kisses my cheek again, gets up, starts whistling, and we go back to work.  Trying to move this mountain.
  

Beauty...(It's a theme right now)

I was thinking the other day out loud to my mom, and I was talking about how *beautiful* a certain friend of mine was.  Mom saw a picture, and later said she didn't understand.  not to be rude or anything, Mom thinks my friend is beautiful, but she was expecting the face that launched a thousand ships or something because of the way I talked this girl up.  Her physical beauty is what my mom was expecting to be hit by.  Mom said she was very pretty.

Helen of Troy - or Diane Krueger.  Same difference.

Which made me think today...I have this idea that I'm friends with the most beautiful people in the world.  None of them are supermodels, none of them are Helen of Troy or Aphrodite, or even Iseult, but they're the most beautiful people I know.

Mom has never met most of them.

I've learned and grown through the influence of each of them.  Especially the ones I'm closest to.

I seem to remember being struck by their beauty the first time I saw each of them.  While I'd like that to be true, my mom's reaction made me wonder if I'm remembering right.  I seem to remember thinking all of my friends were the most beautiful woman I'd ever met...no homo.  But for so many women to be the most beautiful woman I've ever met...

I'm beginning to think Helen of Troy wouldn't stand a chance when lined up to my friends.  Because my friends have beautiful hearts. Beautiful, wonderful, feminine hearts that God made knowing I would need women with such good hearts around me.  And while none of them would mind being called the most beautiful woman ever to live in a contest including a few angry goddesses, none of them would trade their current titles as wives, sisters, friends and daughters to the people around them for the world.  Helen of Troy *apparently through no fault of her own, Aphrodite* did.  Sorta.  you'll have to read the story.  How to start an ancient war for dummies.

So, thanks to my beautiful friends.  I think you're all physically the most beautiful people in the world, but also the women with the most beautiful characters I've known.

I feel like I'm not making my point very clear...

Let's think about a practical example of beauty - the Mona Lisa. What's so beautiful about her? She has no eyebrows, her forehead is really a six head, he eyes are kinda close together, and her hair is kinda greasy. She actually looks a little sick now that I think of it.What's captivating about the Mona Lisa is that enigmatic half-smile she greets you with, and the light that DaVinci captured in her eyes. She is inviting. You can't imagine her as a real person with crossed arms and a pout. I can't even imagine her sitting for the portrait with crossed arms. The real Mona Lisa just HAD to be one of those women who treated everyone like a close friend, invited you to tea even when it meant moving her schedule around and made you feel like you were the most important person ever.

As a disclaimer, I don't sit around thinking about how my friends DON'T live up to my idea of beauty...I was making a point.

Beauty that I enjoy, to continue with the definition I gave in my last post about beauty, is the kind which provides rest, which provides some kind of nourishment through contemplation.  And it's not necessarily all wrapped up in the physical attributes of something.  So many times it's about how it makes you feel when you think of it.  It gives you a sense of peace, of awe, and of transcendence.  My friends will continue to be beautiful throughout all time to me.  Because beauty doesn't rest on the absence of blemishes (which I don't seem to remember on my friends anyway...) or how much you weigh or what your laugh sounds like or how you move.  It rests on those qualities which make something enjoyable.

A Discourse about Beauty and Daleks

My sisters are coming home for a visit next week tomorrow! By which I mean, we were expecting them next week but they'll be here tomorrow.  Which, actually, now is today.  Woops. *mental note - I should be cleaning*

In thinking of this I realize - my family always has visitors we're really not expecting.  And most of them are family members we haven't seen in a while.  :) which is great, and lends itself to great stories.  The most recent one is that our cousin Jason came into town on his scheduled visit, but we had forgotten to write down the schedule.  So Jason texted Dad about directions to our house.  Cue mass hysteria.  we had forgotten that he was coming!

But his visit was great, and we had some great conversation.  Which is always nice.  Because I think I was still a little kid last time I saw Jason.  It's nice to finally have grown-up conversations with my grown-up cousins.  Which brings me to the point of this whole thing.  One of our topics was the complete misunderstanding of God on the part of most modern-day thinkers and people in general.

We talked about sublimity - the difference between the Sublime and the Beautiful.  In literary and art and philosophical circles, it's not an unheard of topic.  Philosophers have studied the Sublime aesthetic for a very long time.

Basically what it comes to is this - Beauty makes you feel good.  it's there for enjoyment and pleasure. It inspires contemplation. The Sublime is something different.  The very beauty of something that is truly Sublime is terrifying.  Because that which is Sublime is capable of terrible things - That which makes you long for the experience of the sublime (its beauty) is inherently capable of killing you.  it's like you're a moth attracted to the light dancing from the dew of a spider's web.  You know it's gonna kill ya, but ya can't resist it.  The experience of the Sublime inspires action in response.

The disturbing thing is that we came to the conclusion that our culture has lost the idea of the Sublime.  We think any kind of beauty should be peaceful, should be conciliatory, should bring people together.  But the Sublime has a way of dividing people.  There is not a gray area when one is confronted with the Sublime.  Everything is an extreme.

In consequence of watering down our idea of beauty, our culture has lost depth, vitality and true inspiration.  What's truly tragic is who we have made God into.  Even the church has watered God down from a Sublime being to merely a Beautiful and benevolent benefactor.  The way we worship Him corporately, the way we pray to Him, the way we look to Him takes into account all of His delightful beauty, but subtracts His terrifying glory and power so that we forget we should respond to Him as a Sublime Deity.  That which originally inspired man to worship - the unimaginable power of God combined with his unimaginable Beauty - has been forgotten, and we are left with lifeless worship of dead choruses merely repeating how much we love Jesus.  Like a bunch of drones.  

 

Daleks, from the hit BBC TV series, Doctor Who.  One of my guilty pleasures.

When I worship sometimes, or watch others worshipping, it seems like we're all only going through the ritual - doing what we've been told to do.  It reminds me of some characters from the popular British TV show, Doctor Who.  The Daleks, a race of time-traveling beings whose goal is to become the only life form in the universe because they believe themselves to be superior, constantly chant "Ex-ter-minate. Ex-ter-minate." in a robotic monotone.  The Daleks firmly believe they should kill everything that is not Dalek, because it is not Dalek. They passionately believe in their cause, without having their own inspiration or proper understanding of why they must do what they do.  We may not be out to exterminate all other life forms, but it seems like we're holding on to this form of worship without understanding where the worship comes from.  We do it because we're meant to.  We may even feel something, because we know we're supposed to.  But do we do it because it's the only option left to us when faced by our cultural view (as a Church) of God?

In being confronted with the truly Sublime nature of God, the prophets Daniel, Ezekiel, and John could do nothing but hit the floor and worship.  They saw His beauty, His power, and His glory - and it was too much. It was terrifying, and it was wonderful.  They desired not to leave the LORD, but desired to hide themselves from Him too, because of the power displayed in His Sublime Beauty.  They desired to be close to Him, but knew it was not safe to be close to Him.  Their experience of God was a paradox of sorts.  They loved him so much it hurt, and feared him so much it hurt.  They wanted to be as close to Him as possible, and wanted to be as far away as possible.  They wanted to stay, and yet wanted to leave.

I do have some hope.  When I first began learning about the philosophical idea of the Sublime versus the Beautiful, it was difficult to comprehend.  But there were a few who eventually did - myself, another Christian, and a few Muslim women.  In a class of 250 college students, there were only 5 or so who ever really grasped the idea of Sublime vs. Beautiful - and all of us equated the Sublime with God.  Something Christianity and Islam have in common is this historical fear mixed with longing inspired by the presence and knowledge of God.  And in being confronted with a growing Muslim community in the world (Islam is the fastest growing religion in the United States, proportionately), American Christians are beginning to rediscover the proper response to God.

I encourage you all to read Immanuel Kant's Critique of Judgement: Book 1 and Book 2.  They lay out an idea of Beauty versus the Sublime which, from a Christian perspective, enriches and enhances one's idea of the Character of God.  The Cliffs Notes version might be the most helpful, if you're not interested in translating the philosopher's jargon.  It's not exactly an easy read.  After reading that, and chewing on it for a few hours (...or days), I encourage you to return in your quiet times to Colossians 1:15-23 and contemplate what it says about Christ.  I think it will enrich your relationship with God and your worship experience.

Happiness is a straw.

So much has changed from my last post...it's been a year and some change.  Another reason I was intimidated by the prospect of a blog in my first entry - I'm really bad at follow-through.  ha.

A reason I've been uncommunicative - so much has changed since I wrote my last blog!  I graduated, moved back home, got a *cough* job.  and have been thoroughly disillusioned with the wide world.  YES! PROGRESS!

...

Sorry that was disheartening.  Really, my emotions are all over the place.  I'm SO THANKFUL FOR THE MERCIES OF GOD in NOT giving me what I think thought I wanted.

The truth is, I can't even tell you everything I've learned.  my heart and head don't always give me the words to communicate my thoughts.  Some lessons I don't didn't even want to learn.  Some I thought I should would learn in a way other than the way God chose to teach me.  And while I wouldn't say I'm HAPPY about the changes, I also wouldn't say I wish they hadn't happened.

I guess I've learned (yeah, right) begun to learn the secret to contentment - something I studied last semester with a very special young woman named Rachael.  It's not necessarily being excited about what you've been given.  Cause sometimes it's like getting a package of hanes sports socks as your only christmas present.  You're like *WHAT?!* but the truth is you needed them more than any other stuff you could have gotten.  It's not even necessarily being happy about it.  But it's choosing to see the things you've been given as a blessing because they're what you've been given.  It's choosing to recognise that HOLINESS that sets God apart from us, and the perfection that is inherent in His divine plan.

It's like Joy.  Joy isn't happiness.  It's something different all together.  I think maybe I've been chasing my happy ending, but waaaay before the end.  maybe that's why I've been discontent and heartsick.  I'm grasping at straws to change God's plan.  I'd rather stick to joy and contentment.  Maybe that would make me a happier person too.

Christmas Confessions

As we start this Christmas Season, there's one thought I just can't shake.  It's captured in the last couple lines of this poem by Kay Ryan:

Crib

From the Greek for 

woven or plaited,

which quickly translated

to basket. Whence the verb

crib, which meant “to filch”

under cover of wicker

anything–some liquor,

a cutlet.

For we want to make off

with things that are not

our own. There is a pleasure

theft brings, a vitality

to the home.

Cribbed objects or answers

keep their guilty shimmer

forever, have you noticed?

Yet religions downplay this. 

Note, for instance, in our

annual rehearsals of innocence,

the substitution of manger for crib–

as if we ever deserved that baby,

or thought we did.

This poem kinda reflects how I feel about the whole Christmas idea right now: guilty.  I feel like a filthy sinner who deserves to be shut out of the Kingdom forever.  But the thing is...I'm not.  In sending His Son to Earth to die for me, God gave me the innocence of that manger baby.  It's mine, and I get to walk in the fact that the greatest part about Christmas is that Christ's innocence has been credited to me.  As I say this, I struggle with sin.  I struggle with my own imperfection, my own rebellion, my own total lack of anything good to call my own.  And I don't feel good about it.  But therein lies the heart of the gospel: I am not capable of good, so I don't have to be "good"... God doesn't see that about me any more.  So while I'm frustrated and feel dirty and stained, God is saying to me "Have hope, my little Daughter - I'm not asking for your good, but for your heart. Dirty and all.  I'll wash it up a bit before I use it."  In the midst of my darkness, I have hope that I am not defined in Erin terms, but in God terms.  God's messenger uses my own name to preach to me.  Erin - Peace.  Evangeline - Good news.  granted, they were saying it in Aramaic, not Greek.  but somehow, God knew I would need to remember who I am.  A sinner given the peace of God through the good news of Christ.  my guilt no longer matters.

so please excuse this bit of self-evangelism...sometimes preaching to yourself is necessary.  But please don't think that this message is only meant for me.  It's for all of us.  this Christmas season, think about that manger baby.  Think about what He means.  Really.  Personally.  To you.  You will get no greater gift this year.

The Eternal Now.

It's been a while since I updated this thing.

I recently encountered an argument against Christianity in the books of Philip Pullman, author of the "His Dark Materials" trilogy.  In his books, he exploits the past and present failures of Christianity to say that God has outlived His usefulness, and it's time to watch Him blow away.  The main argument is that the Christianity of men like CS Lewis is grounded not in our present reality, but in an intangible future hope that renders Christians incapable of present goodness.

I think he missed the point.  I think we all sometimes do.

So what is the point?

I think in the Bible it's very clear - Christ was about the Eternal "here and now".  That sounds contradictory, but let me explain.  When Christ came, the Prophets had all been saying "The kingdom of God is coming...."  Christ began preaching "The kingdom of God has come.  It is here.  Don't miss it" (see Mark 1:14-15).  Obviously, people were a bit confused.  Still are.  But after Christ, this preaching continued, and people continued to say that following Christ was about what I've called in this post "The Eternal Now".

What do I mean by that?  I mean that for the Christian, the hope of Eternity glorifying God starts in the moment they decide to make Jesus Christ the Lord of their life.  Their Spirit, now born of God, has been given the promise of Eternity with Him, and is therefore immortal.  We cannot be separated from God, not even by death. (Romans 8:38-39) We are now counted as being God's children, and we are ambassadors in the "now" for the Eternal God (2 Corinthians 5:20).  Again and again, we are told to live while we are in the present age - the "now" - in this Truth, conducting ourselves in a way to bring glory to God (1 Peter 1:17-21).  All the letters of the apostles to the Church emphasize our responsibility to live in the now in a way that will glorify God.  Jesus Himself instructed us on the way to live.  The point of the New Testament is to show the fulfillment of God's promise, and to answer the question "How now shall we live?"

Unfortunately, we've gotten caught up in the fact that we cannot be "of the world" rather than owning the fact that we are "in the world" for a reason (John 17:15-18).

Heart Cry for RezWeek 2011

Hey friends and family! This is the poem I wrote and read for REZweek.  It was a work of the Spirit, not of me, but some people said they wanted to see it, so here it is.

Do you remember Me?
I know you in the dark places,
in the secret places hidden from time.
I form you from the dust of the earth
fold and knit you from fabric of My making
so that you may know Me.
don't you remember?

do you remember Me?
I nourish you with Manna,
Bread of Heaven, Words of Life
I give you Living Water from the Rock
and teach you to drink deeply
to quench your thirst from My bounty.
do you even remember?

do you remember Me?
My voice rumbles from the mountaintop
prophets declare my thoughts
you are struck through with fear and rightly
for I am holy and you are lowly
but I am wholly yours.
don't you remember?

do you remember Me?
I give to you the Good and Promised Land
I choose you to be My People,
you stubborn, unmoving children!
not because of your merit
but because I choose to love you
do you even remember?

do you remember Me?
I am the Lord who loves you,
the God of gods and Lord of lords
the great God, mighty and awesome
The Lord who is among you
The One who hears your cry.
don't you remember?

do you remember Me?
I hang upon a cross
drink the boiling cup of God's hatred
I drink it to the burning dregs
agony upon agony
All for you, My cherished People
do you even remember?

do you remember Me?
I remember you.
there's a place for you in eternity
you'll share with Me in Victory
all pain forgotten, all foes vanquished
I long for you to join me here
don't you remember?

do you remember Me?
do you remember your First Love?
do you remember Light?
do you remember answered prayers
do you remember the joy of faith
the joy of restored sight?
do you even remember?

Breached

I was Jericho
with walls high and wide
But love higher and wider
Swept over the side
Now I've been captured
With love so divine
The wall has been breached
This wall that was mine.

I thought I was covered,
I posted the guard.
Who knew that you'd soften
A heart that was hard?
I locked all the doors
And melted the key
But I never counted
On Your love for me.

Inside the walls
I cowered and cried
No one would rescue me -
No body tried.
And You came along
And softly you said
I'll give You a life
if you give up your death.

The dam's broken loose
We'll let the tide flow
as over and under
Your love quickly goes
Knee deep in water
That washed away fears
And anger and hatred
And traded with tears.

The walls have begun
To crumble in me
And now I'm beginning
To finally see
A wall built on nothing
Round a hole six feet down
Where a little girl hiding
All alone was found.

Who celebrates surrender
when everything's lost?
Only when you see
what Victory cost.
A life lived in love
And a heart filled with grace
Hung on a tree
To die cursed in my place.

The wall was breached
The wall that was high
And now without it
I can see sky!
I'm free to live life
Unbounded by chains
Of sin and of sorrow
And of suffering and pain.

Breaking Holy

Recently, there's been a phrase that has been going around that I despise. I'm not going to tell you the phrase, because I don't want to seem as if I'm judging anyone, cause I'm not (my sister brought this to my attention when I was ranting at her). But I'll tell you why - because it glosses over the significance of who God is. 

What do I mean by that? I mean that the significance of everything that is most important about our God - His Holiness.

And as I was thinking about this, I realized. We have no cultural concept of "holy." What does it mean in Revelation 4 when the creatures around God's throne cry out that He is "Holy, Holy, Holy!"? Our culture has no idea.

Holiness is an idea of being set apart. Being special. Being special because of being touched by the divine. In a culture that denies holiness, we deny the Divine. We deny that He touches us, that He uses us, and that He - is.

Everything that was once holy is no longer. Take sex as the classic example. Sex was something so pure, so special, so celebrated in the context God designed for - its holy context. It is a holy metaphor: The longing for one another, the connection, the feeling of joy and being love no matter what, the feeling of being enough and of being essential and of being whole - it all points to how God wants to be with us, how He wants us to be with Him. It was holy in its context of being set apart. And then it stopped being set apart for two people. With the assault of porn, it became something other people could take part in. With orgies and multiple partners, sex lost its mystery and its "set apartness". Then it started being included i movies, in tv, in commercials, in music, on billboards. And now, sex is for everyone. it means nothing except physical pleasure. Sex has ceased to be holy. And this is just the easiest example. I could show you so many things that used to be holy - the cross, music, the Bible - that no longer are holy.

The consequence of breaking down barriers setting things apart is that we no longer see barriers at all.

Back to my point - the phrase that I am objecting to. I object to it because it glosses over something so holy, so special, so integral to our understanding of who God is:

HIS NAME.

Madeliene and the Meaning of Grace

So, right about now those of us who remember the way our world was shaken on 9-11 are celebrating the fact that the mastermind behind the horrendous events is dead.  I myself was relieved and felt vindicated.  I remember worrying about my Dad at Ft. Bragg while we were in Pittsburgh.  I remember seeing the towers fall on live TV.  I remember feeling a pain that was more than physical - my security, comfort, and trust were all brought down as I watched a powerful symbol of the Free World come crashing to the ground.  I remember being scared about another attack.  I remember the plane going down in Somerset just a few minute's drive away.  I remember the fear.  I remember watching as people mourned their losses.  I remember sending my Dad off to war.  I remember wondering if he was coming back.  I remember praying that God would keep my Daddy safe and I remember hoping that bin Laden be captured, then drawn and quartered, or flayed alive, or anything to prolong his agony before he died.  I didn't think of the fact that no matter how he dies, he's gonna be in eternal agony.  As the worst of sinners, a man who believed in a false prophet (eternally cursed according tothe Apostle Paul) he deserved as much agony as we could give him.

My reaction to bin Laden's death was joy.  He'd gotten what he deserved, and died like a coward, using a woman as a shield.  Even now, I can't help feeling a sense of having won and the irony of it all being just and right.  He died like a rat.

And then Madeliene, as she is so prone to doing, shook my world again.  She said in the car this morning that she was sad that bin Laden had died, but relieved.  I asked her why she was sad.  "It's kinda complicated and confusing" she said "I am relieved that he can't hurt anyone else, and even glad about that.  But now, he can't be forgiven.  He missed his chance, and now he's seperated from Jesus forever.  I can't imagine being seperated from Jesus.  It would be horrible."

and I thought...CONVICTION 

This kid knows the meaning of Grace.  my almost-eleven-year-old-sister understands the gospel better than I do.

Granted, she doesn't remember the Twin Towers.  She was a baby.  Her world wasn't shaken that day.  But she does know that this man has caused Thousands upon Thousands to die.  Some have even gone to hell because of his delusion that he was doing the will of God.  She knows that Daddy put his life in danger because this man was alive.  But she wouldn't deny him the Grace that God extends to every man, woman and child.  I can't say that I would do the same.  Deserving of death? Osama was.  Deserving of eternal seperation from God and eternal agony? Madeliene knew that wasn't her place to judge.

You see, Madeliene, in her short life, seems to have grasped exactly what Paul meant when he said "For ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23, emphasis mine) and "The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord" (Romans 6:23).  We are all sinners.  We are all equally deserving of eternal seperation from God.  "For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.  For He who said "Do not commit adultery," also said, "Do not commit murder." If you do not commit adultery, but you do commit murder, you have become a lawbreaker" (James 2:10-11).

I'm reading this awesome book by Jerry Bridges called The Discipline of Grace at the same time that I am reading Prodigal God  by Tim Keller.  In both books, the authors define sin as anything that does not glorify God.  Anything that does not glorify God is an act of rebellion against Him, basically spitting in His face.  According to this definition, obedience to the law in order to show what a perfect Christian YOU are instead of how good God is, is in fact sin and rebellion against Him.  I am guilty of rebelling against God every day of my life, for I am guilty of doing things for reasons other than those that would glorify God.  That's in addition to just breaking the law of God about 325,000 times a day (ok, so that might be an exaggeration - there aren't even that many seconds in a day...but you get my point).  I am a sinner - a lawbreaker - and the worst kind.  One who does so knowing what it costs and yet does it anyway.  I deserve death.  I deserve seperation from God.  I deserve hell just as much as Osama bin Laden did, if my actions are the measure by which I'm accepted into heaven.

but Madeliene understands something else - 

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isaiah 53:6

Madeliene understands that no matter what our sin was, is or will be, God's paid for it already.  He made Christ Jesus the representative of all humanity, and though Christ had lived a sinless life, he absorbed the entire penalty of our sin - everything we deserved: God's hatred, malice, justice, essentially everything I wanted to see Osama bin Laden receive at the hand of American soldiers.  Christ knew the penalty, and took it for us.  Being one with God, he knew how powerful God's hatred of sin was.  And he took it.  He hung there and drank it all.  And all He asks in return is that we accept His love, His sacrifice, His payment for our just desserts, while we live our days on this planet.  ANYTIME while we live our life, grace is available to us.

And my brother, the son of Adam, Osama bin Laden, missed his chance.  He could have been saved from everything, but he wouldn't accept the forgiveness of God.  And you know what? If I had been there, I wouldn't have given him a chance to do it.  I would have sent him straight to hell for everything he's done.  I would have been guilty of denying him the chance God mercifully extended to me. 

None of this is to say Osama would have taken it.  I doubt very strongly that he would...he was living his life for something else that he believed was right and good.  He denied the grace of God with his every breath.  But that's not my point.  My point is that my reaction to what I've been viewing as a triumph is wrong.  This is a tragedy.  There was a free gift of grace for this man, this fellow sinner, and he just didn't grasp it before he died.

If this has meant anything to you at all, then do what I did after dropping Madeliene off at school this morning.  Thank God for the gift of grace that he's extended to all of us.  If you haven't already, please accept the fact that you can't get to heaven on your own merit, that it is the grace of God in sacrificing His Son as the payment for our crimes and belief in that grace alone that saves us.  Commit to a life that you will live for the glory of God, even when you mess up.  Which you will.  And tell someone about it.  Pray and begin a journey toward heaven that will make your life a triumph of God instead of a tragedy of Men.

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son.This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. John 3:17-19

“I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be condemned; he has crossed over from death to life." John 5:24

I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life. 1 John 5:13