The Woman who has Become a Ghost

There was this woman.  She used to sit outside the Library, just sit there.  She was a beautiful woman.  She had one little red rolling suitcase of all her things, she had one little bag.  She was always in the same shoes, the same beige sweatshirt, the same fleece pants.  She had a smile on her face, and every time I'd see her, she'd greet me.  I saw her a fair amount, sitting on that concrete bench.  She was always willing to share a smile, and a story of the Lord's goodness.  Some friends and I had invited her to church - she came...  Once.  I'd like to think she was a friend.

And then one day, she just disappeared.  I've been looking for her, wanting to say hi, wanting to make sure she was doing ok, to ask her how her job search was going.  But she hasn't even been around for me to ask those things.  It breaks my heart.

Not so much because I can't help her anymore (although that certainly breaks my heart, too), but because I'd like to believe she found a place to live.  That sounds weird I know - and I'm hoping and praying and praising the Lord for it, because if she's found a place to live, that would be one of the most wonderful things the Lord could have done for her.  But I'm also deeply saddened, because I wanted to rejoice with her.  I want her to come back to church.  I want her to come back and say she's found a place and she's doing well and getting back on her feet.  And then I want to rejoice with her!  I want to walk with her, and celebrate the small victories, and help her through the tight and hard times ahead.   To laugh and cry with her, to celebrate and worship the Lord together.  I want to hug her on good days and bad, I want to look forward to seeing her, knowing she'll be there.   I want to talk to her, to relish her dreams and hopes, to grow together as we pull one another toward the Lord in fellowship and friendship.  But she's dissappeared.  I can't find her anywhere - and I've looked.

That's what breaks my heart - that if she's found a place to live, I can't share it with her.  Whether by her deliberate choosing or just by circumstance, the Lord has closed that door.  Maybe for a time, maybe forever.  And I recognize that the Lord is sovereign over all this - truly, He is.  He knows exactly where she is, He knows exactly what's in store for her, and exactly what she needs.  And He knows that, if it's His will, I would like to share my life with her.

Lord Willing.

What's the Point of the Gospel?

There are few things worse in this world than one who knows what he ought to be doing, and still deliberately and intentionally chooses laziness instead. It is a short lived glory, for those who struggle most deeply with laziness are the ones who often are most aware and most capable of accomplishing many great things.  And when you are that kind of person, as I am, laziness is one of the most dangerous vices one could fall into. Laziness, once begun, is an immediate and downward spiraling habit which may nearly be called a dangerous and revolting addiction. One hour spent in laziness quickly feeds into 4 hours of laziness, and without the mighty power of  God to pull you out, will only feed itself into further laziness and depression. Suddenly, 1 hour of laziness becomes the dangerous pattern of a lifetime of laziness. This is not an exaggeration or a scare tactic, friend. This is immediate and serious (as sin always is) but this is one of those sins which creeps in quickly and takes deep root. It is not like drinking, or cursing, or lying, which although just as destructive and abhorrent to God, build themselves so slowly you almost don't notice. The enemy, with sins like those, most often uses a slow and steady exposure and opportunities to practice, so that one day, you suddenly notice that every other word you utter is unglorifying to god, or that your drinking habits have somehow spiraled out of control to the point of an addiction. But laziness, laziness takes root so quickly that you don't have time to notice or react. It's one of those things that you almost can't trace, it happens so fast.  It has you on your backside so fast, and then it holds you there.  Hard. 

And this is where we humans sit. Stuck between sins that take hold in our lives so deeply and quickly that we can't root them out, or so slowly and deeply that we can't root them out. Either way, we are stuck. The enemy never lobs us a soft underhanded pitch of sin, that we see coming and easily bat away. That is too easy for us, and gives him no leverage. Not that those sins ought be ignored or that we ought to remain unprepared. But rather, we must meet them, while recognizing that the devil has his best hold over us when we can no longer see what is coming. 

Let us take a moment, then, to understand what exactly laziness is.  Perhaps, a better approach would be to understand what laziness is not.  Laziness is not resting.  Resting, likewise, is not laziness.  Although, they can sometimes look the same.  Watching TV can be a lazy act, or it can be a restful act.  So how are we to differentiate if the actions sometimes look the same?

Resting involves being in communion WITH the Lord.  It is sweet, and refreshing, and delightful!  It brings smiles and laughter and fellowship, and a deep-rooted joy!  It is something we seek in the war-time lifestyle we live, when we have fought a hard day's battle and know we are in a safe place surrounded by God's goodness.  It is always, always with the end of winning the battle in mind - recognizing that as we depend on the Lord for our strength, our sinful selves cannot sustain us - even when we are trying as hard as we might to rely on that Gracious God we serve.  It is temporary rest, that we might be refreshed, renewed, sanctified, convicted, empowered, and strengthened for the battle that lies ahead of us again (take a close look at 1 Peter 5:6-11.  The Devil is an adversary "like a roaring lion... prowling around".  This is most definitely a wartime life.  But the Lord promises the refreshment and strengthening we need, if we only humble ourselves.)  This is not to say we ought ever take the battle into our own hands - this would be entirely destructive to the cause, and would result in utter failure.  Rather, there is a difference between resting our bodies and souls and minds in Christ, and depending on Him as we fight for and alongside and through Him.

Laziness is selfish and an end in itself.  Laziness, if you have ever taken the time to notice, will only breed more laziness.  Rest, on the other hand, breeds a fierce and rejuvenated desire to return to the battle we are fighting.  Have you ever noticed that?  One hour of rest is often enough that we may continue the day or the next few days in a battlefield mindset, glorifying and exalting the name of Lord effectively!  But one hour of laziness leaves you unfulfilled, seeking another hour, and another and another.  Laziness sucks motivation from us faster than just about anything else! Laziness does not seek the end of winning the battle for Christ, but seeks to create the truth that we are the center of the universe.  Friend, you live like this ore often than you know.  When someone does not move off the sidewalk for you, even when they are taking up the whole sidewalk, and you get upset, what is it that you are implicitly saying?  You are not only angry because that person is acting as if the world revolves around them (which we both know it does not), but if that alone were the truth you might be saddened, or compassionate.  But anger and frustration indicates that you are believing that while the world does not revolve around them, it DOES revolve around you!  You, whether you say it or not, probably act like you think the world revolves around you more often than you know.  Laziness is the ultimate statement that our time is our own, that our resources are our own, and that we can do with them as we please.  It is the ultimate "F--- you" to the Lord's sovereign provision in our lives, and to the task the Lord has given to us - one which will be fulfilled whether we choose to participate or not. 

This is where the posture of our hearts is so important, and requires constant examination and readjustment!  We must always be aware of where our hearts sit, of how we are understanding ourselves. 

Think on this, friend:  Jesus did not die on a bloody, murderous cross that you might spend time in front of TV, or that you might have a big house. 

Read that again.  Slowly. 

Also:  The point of the Gospel is not that you get God.  The point of the Gospel is that you are made righteous in God's eyes that you might worship him.  The fact that we get to be counted righteous despite our numerous sins, that we get all the gifts and glories of God is a wonderful, breathtaking thing - I am not trying to downplay this one iota.  It is a mystery that I do not pretend to understand one tiny little bit, and one that absolutely sweeps me off my feet and takes my breath away; it brings me to tears on my knees in a way I could not otherwise be humbled.  It is the most incredible thing.  It is beauty.  But do not loose yourself in this beauty that you cannot see the end for which this was done.  The end is not that we are the most important things in the universe.  When you stop at "we get God" as the end of the Gospel, you are saying implicitly that YOU are the most important thing in the world; that God thinks you are SO important that He would send His only son to die a horrendous death in order to bridge the despicable and revolting gap of infinite sin that you could never overcome alone, and defeat the incredible power of that sin and it's wages, death, for your salvation.  Not true friends.  GOD is the most important thing.  He did send His son, only out of gracious love for you, but first and foremost out of his desire to have a people for himself.  Not just to be a saviour, but to be a saviour that he might have a people to worship him! Jesus did not say, "Therefore, go, and have comfortable and joyful lives knowing that you have eternal salvation".  Jesus said, "Therefore, go and make disciples in my name, baptising them in the name of the father and the son and the spirit." This is a wartime cry, one which proclaims the goodness and sovereignty of the Lord. 

It is a difficult truth to grasp.  It often seems, for our sinful hearts, sometimes an ugly truth.  But when we understand our true position - that this is what we were created for - then the truth suddenly becomes much more palatable (not that this ought to be the ultimate point of accepting truth).  Nothing else will satisfy us.  Least of all, living as if we are the center of the universe.  

And so laziness can no longer be one of those "little sins" that we overlook easily.  The enemy would have us believe that laziness is only a little slip-up, that it's not that bad.  But it is.  Laziness must be something that we guard our hearts against, day and night, that the enemy might not gain an all-too-easily claimed foothold in our lives. 

This is where I need repentance.  I confess that I have been lazy in my school work over the last week.  I confess that I have been lazy in my prayer life - in praying for others, in praying for this city, in praying for the nations, in praying for my church family, in praying for the leaders of this country, in praying for the humility to do my job and my schoolwork to the best of my ability and to the glory of God.  I confess that I have been lazy in the way I approach evangelism, that I have been lazy in the way I am fighting sin in my life, and in being a part of community.  I confess that I have too often tried to rely on my own strength and have lost battle after battle.  I confess that I have been lazy in my worship of the Lord - that I have allowed my emotions to be an impediment. 

But the wonderful thing is, the Lord, despite being the ultimate end, became the ultimate picture of humility, and "being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross." (Phil. 2:8).  And it is in this that the Lord has wiped out my sin - blotted it out forever.  That I may continue to be seen as righteous, in order to be a reflection and manifestation of God's glory.  Praise be to God.

Supremely Glorious

Yesterday was November 14th - that's wintertime, in my book.  And yet I wore short sleeves all afternoon/evening.  It felt like May!  I spontaneously went downtown with B. to take pictures, hang out, explore, and just geek out about the fact that we actually live in DC on one of the most gorgeous days ever! (Can you say happy camper!?)

And friends, what a glorious day I had reveling in the glory of the Lord!

I've spent the last four weeks putting my head down, blinders on, and plowing through the massive amount of work I've had to do.  My daily quiet time has been a lot of begging the Lord for adequate rest, for the patience and strength to honor Him amidst all the work and class and chaos.  There's been a lot of sleeping on my Sabbaths, and a lot of just trying to get through.

What a reminder yesterday was of the abundant joys of serving the Lord! I could not help but give praise to God for what he has provided me, and for what he has created! There are no words.

I could not stop myself from giving praise; during my quiet time yesterday evening, that was all I could do!  The Lord delights - yes, delights! - in bringing the sun up every morning, in painting beautiful sunsets each evening with colors only he could have imagined, in making the changing light ever more beautiful, in giving fellowship and joy to his beloved children.   And I was gracefully given the chance to experience that, even amidst a broken world.

The glory of the Lord.  

Do you get that friend?!  Let that sit for a moment.  THE GLORY OF THE LORD.  the glory of the Lord.  The GLORY of the Lord!  Whispered, shouted, proclaimed, wailed, cried amidst tears of joy or pain or persecution... all of it - the glory of the Lord! Do you understand what that means, what that entails?  Because if you do not - oh, what you are missing!!!  The Lord is jealous for the praise and glory of his name, and how he will display it, if only you will look at it! Examine the cross, and if you do not find in it the Lord's supreme purpose for his own glory, you are missing the point.  Re-examine, and look closer.  Let the whole weight of the glory of the Lord sink into you - you will never be (you cannot be) too full of it - so fill yourself as much as you can!

I cannot wait for the coming age when we get every moment of all of eternity to worship the most holy God!  What a joyful glimpse that was into the restoration to come! The more time I spend in the Word, the more I pray, learn, think, and seek God, the more joyful it is to praise his holy name.  I am perpetually and utterly beyond words at the greatness of God, and how he chooses to reveal this to us in such refreshing and unexpected ways.  It was a refreshing time with God and a dear friend, just living in praise of God - and there was nothing I would rather have done with my time on a Monday afternoon.

True Thankfulness

So it's been over a month since I ended my veganism.

Let me tell you, the Lord is wonderful.  He is so, so good! He is still certainly teaching me through the process, but one of the things that was immediately apparent was the wonderful and beautiful provision of the Sovereign Lord.

I can walk into a grocery store, restaurant, or even campus dining hall, and I can eat absolutely anything I want.  Anything!  Do you know what a beautiful realization that is?!  It actually took me a few weeks to adjust to the fact that I didn't have to think about what I was eating anymore...

I've never been so thankful for food before - I try to pray before most meals, I try to give thanks to the Lord for his wonderful provision of abundance in my life, but I don't always feel thankful.  Even when I was vegan, I was thankful, but not in the same way.  Now... now I'm thankful in a whole new way! It's such a wonderful and beautiful thing.  I can literally eat anything.  Absolutely anything.

I'm beginning to understand the multi-faceted role of fasting in a spiritual walk... It's not something that I understand fully, but the Lord is continuing to grow my heart for him, and to bring me deeper in relationship with him. Praise be to Him.

Painful Breakups and Ugly Letters

Dear Higher Education,

I don't like you anymore.  Seriously, I don't. I did, really - when we started this relationship I thought it was going to work.  I wanted it to work.  But I was young and naive then...  Now I see you for who you really are, and what you really want from me.  All this time, you put up your facade, and you tricked me into believing this was the best thing for me.  Even when I started seeing problems, I fought for this relationship - I did everything you asked of me.  And even then, I thought we could work through this.  But clearly, we can't.  I've seen the light, and I don't actually like you anymore.

You give me too much to do, and too much stress.  I want to learn (believe me, I do!) but I really, really despise you.  All too often you squelch learning in favor of doing, which really just pisses me off.

You ask me to sacrifice sleep for you, fun for you, friends for you, even God for you.  You zap my brain of all energy and coherent thought.  I sit in class trying to pay attention and simultaneously writing essays for other classes.  That is not acceptable.  I struggle to stay awake, and I feel the pressure to get a good job and to make money.  You tell me that unless I have a 4.0, I'm not doing good enough.  Your professors tell me that their class is the most important, but all 6 of them say that!  You tell me that I'm on facebook too much, but also not enough.  You tell me that I should make school my first priority, but you make it so expensive that I have to work at the same time.  Your professors say that my work isn't good enough, and that if I can't do it I shouldn't be here.  There are no late assignments, ever, because nothing outstanding ever happens in life that would require me to ask for a reasonable extension, but if I'm not also out "living life" then I'm missing out on the experience. You are the reason my schedule looks like this:

You tell me that I have to sacrifice everything, including my standards and my expectations, especially the most basic of standards like sleep, food, and pursuing God. You have cost me money, and time, and friendships and sleep.  You have cost me sanity.  You don't adequately equip me for the things you expect of me, and you fail to account for your waste and my struggles.  You engage with corrupt politicians, and poor teachers who are here only because they didn't know what else to do.  It's a miracle I haven't thrown a brick at someone yet (or through the window).  Your administration has no interest in my education, they have interest in their kingdoms and their money, and only costs me everything.  You would claim my identity and my soul if I let my guard down.

But I won't do it anymore!  I'm going to stand up "against the man" and take as many naps as I want, for as long as I want.  I will not be a stereotype or a statistic, and I will not end up on the cover of a magazine for my successes or failures.  I'm not going to gain weight, nor will I be affected by an eating disorder.  I will not be a partier who flunks out, or that girl who locks herself in the library, only to look back on college wishing she'd let loose.  I will not sleep around just because it's college.  I will not do what you tell me, college!  You will not claim my identity or my life.  I will no longer let school get in the way of my learning.  You do not own me, you do not define me.  You will most certainly not demand anything of me - because you are not my identity.  I refuse to let you claim me with your vice-grip.

Dear school, I wash my hands of you.  I will pursue learning to the highest standard, but you - I'm breaking up with you.  I want to say I'm wishing you well as we part ways, but that's not true.  I wish you the most rapid and humiliating of demises.  We're through, we're finished, and I don't ever want to hear from you again.

Hugs and Kisses.
K

Regarding Biblical Womanhood, Part IV: Men and Feminism

This was not a post I intended to write.  This "Biblical Womanhood" thing was supposed to be a trilogy (because all good things come in 3's, right?).  But there's more.

(As a refresher, you can read Parts 1, 2, and 3, here, here, and here respectively)

I've always considered myself a feminist.  I'm strong, and fiercely independent.  I'm athletic, I can play sports and keep up with the boys.  I can do things on my own, I don't need any man to carry my luggage for me, or to help me change a flat, or to validate me.  I am my own woman.  


Furthermore, all women need to have this realization - All women need to understand that they can empower themselves by taking action, standing up to men, that they themselves are capable (perhaps with a little outside assistance) of freeing themselves from this perpetual suppression by men.  One of the best ways to achieve development and freedom is to empower women, and to make them equal with men.  Right?

But the thing is, I'm not independent at all (much as I fancy myself as such)!  I'm entirely dependent.  I'm not my own at all - I belong entirely to God (you do too, whether you realize it or not)!  All those things above - all those things are lies.  Lies of the enemy and of the world.  I can't keep up with boys (at least not all of them), I can't do things on my own, I do need help.  This whole "independent" thing I've been striving for and basing my entire life on, it's actually really bad.  Because everything I have has been given by the Gracious God, and everything I can do is only through the Lord Almighty.

While empowering women is great, the flip side of that issue is how we portray men.  By portraying men as perpetually hedonistic animals who will always suppress women without the checks of government, or moral/ethical codes strictly imposed, and women as strong, enabled, people who must overthrow this culture of oppresion, we are hurting both men AND women.

And I'm totally guilty of this.  I do it often.  I play the victim who has overcome because that's what culture tells me I need to do, and I see men in my head as horrible human beings (save the few decent ones I'm friends with).

What if we used the Gospel to empower women AND men? What if we allowed the Gospel to be used as a way to empower men to stand up against cultural norms that measure masculinity by how many STI's you have?  Or by how well your wife submits to you, or by how many fights you can tough out, or how big your muscles are?  What if we could empower men to stand up and say enough, to treat their fellow humans well (both men and women)?

And what if we could empower women to accept help sometimes?  What if we could redefine feminism not by how militant you are against men, or how well you support yourself, or how "confidently" you dress, or how many men you can beat out for that promotion?  The living in the extreme of women who believe that equality means "exact same in every way" narrowly defines what good means - and it still defines it on male terms.  It's slavery disguised as empowerment. It's the empowerment of Satan to continue to enslave ourselves to the lies of the world - twisted truth.  What if we could find some way to empower women to be who they were designed and created to be, without dependence on masculinity OR submission - what if we could find a way to empower women in the image of their Creator?

I'm thinking it might be a good idea to re-evaluate not only how I see myself, but how I view gender-relations issues across the world.  I don't totally know what that means or looks like, but change should probably accompany this thought process.

A Collision of Misplaced Anger and Outright Shame When:

I walked past a homeless man tonight....

Not that that's anything new for me. I live in a city where homelessness is relatively commonplace.  Even in the richest parts of the city, people are still out on the streets.  I'm even friends with some of them.

For some reason tonight was different.  I walked past a man -  I almost didn't notice him.  He wasn't panhandling, he wasn't crazy, he wasn't wandering.  He was trying to sleep.  On a bench.  I was walking and talking with my mom (who's here to visit) and a very dear friend who we'd gone out to dinner with, and I almost walked right past him without even noticing.

But then I did notice.  And maybe it's just because I was a little over the edge already that night, or I was just tired, or something else.  It probably has something to do with the fact that it's that time of year again, when the weather starts getting a little colder, and that I happened to be right along the National Mall, and very, very close to the White House.  But I did notice.  And it shut me up good.  He was huddled under a blanket.  It was a worn blanket - I imagine that man, who didn't look more than 5 or 10 years older than me, had been on the streets for a while.  He didn't have more than a backpack and a bag of things.  And it looked like he was wearing a good portion of his clothes - mostly to keep warm.  And these are not, by any means, the coldest months in DC.  Not even close.

And my heart felt like it had been wrenched from me.   It's not fair.  I want to spend paragraphs and paragraphs railing in anger about the injustice of it all.  I want to ask the Lord, "why?!" over and over again until He himself steps down from on high and offers this man food and drink and a place to live and comfort.  I want to be angry, I want to march down to the president's house, I want to take down all the people who live right next door to me who live in multi-million dollar homes with rooms they use once a year and cars that cost almost as much, and yell and scream and cry until there are no more homeless people.  And don't get me wrong, I am angry, and I am hurting because of that injustice - that will not end until Jesus himself returns.  I am royally, royally pissed off.  And heartbroken beyond measure.

But then I walked past.

I. Walked. Right. Past. That. Man.  Without stopping.  Without even the slightest flinch in my step.

And then I felt nauseous.  I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut, and like my heart (which had previously been removed from my chest) had been stomped on and crushed.  And I am so, so ashamed.  I should have stopped.  I should have asked him if he wanted some warm coffee, or a meal, or a kind ear.  I should have asked him if I could run to target, to get another blanket or a heavy jacket for him.

But I didn't.  In my pride and arrogance, in my self-righteousness, I kept walking.  I did a dis-service to that man when I ignored him.  I hated him, in that moment.  I hated him...

And so I will continue to be angry, about this gruesome injustice being done in this world.  I will be heartbroken.  And I will speak up about it.

But I also need to change my attitude - I can be angry about it, but anger itself accomplished nothing.  I must be angry BECAUSE I love those people.  

And that requires that I actually, do love these people.

The First Day

Today was my first day of non-veganism.

Friends, I would be lying to you if I said it wasn't absolutely delicious! Never, ever again will I go for 7 1/2 months without eating cheese.  Ever.  It is far too wonderful. 

Would you care to hear about my first meal(s)?  No? Then leave.  Because I'm going to tell you anyways. 

Breakfast: apple
Lame, I know.  Wait.  It gets better.

Lunch: Sushi -  California Roll. Dragon Roll. Spicy Crunchy Shrimp Roll.  Teriyaki Beef.  Vegetable Tempura.  Dumplings.  It was FANTABULOUS.

Dinner: Chipotle.  With pork.  And cheese.

Oh friends... going without something for so long, it makes you appreciate it so much more!!! I've never had such a party on my tongue before.  It was awesome. 

I know right now, I'm riding on the tide of beautiful "new" tastes.  But I also know over the next few weeks I am going to have to guard my heart against the enemy, twisting this into something it is not.  I do not regret my decision to be vegan, but it is time for me to go back.  It is time.  I know this.  I am not a failure because of it, I did not make this commitment because of anything other than God's command.  And I did not go back because of anything less.   I pray that the Lord will graciously use this experience for his own glory, and to refine me into something other than the worldly creature I all too often am. 

Regarding Biblical Womanhood, Part III: Men

This is part 3 of a series.  You can also read Part 1 here, and read part 2 here.

I had a friend (a male) open a car door for me the other day.  It wasn't just a passing thing - he insisted. But the thing is, he wasn't hitting on me.  He wasn't demeaning me, but he wasn't hitting on me either.  He was simply treating me with the utmost respect in the manner he though appropriate.  I was beside myself.  I didn't know how to react.  I'm so used to fending for myself, and to holding up the walls around my vulnerability and my independence, that I didn't know what to do.  I've never, ever in my life had a man intentionally seek to open a door for me.  It's started to make me rethink how I treat men....

Am I treating men with respect when I demand that I do everything myself?  I certainly don't mind being needed; I'm often (though, in my sinful flesh, not always) happy to help people.  It makes me feel valuable and wanted.  I think men are even more programmed to think and behave that way.  When I demand that I do things under my own power, I am not only depriving men of the opportunity to serve me, but I am essentially telling them that their help is not good enough.  I would hate that, if someone did that to me....

What else do I do that does not respect men?  Where else do I think I am enabling myself, when really, I am only hurting myself and others around me?

This is where the issue of understanding my womanhood as a single woman comes into play.  I ought to be seeking to be a godly woman right now.  That is not something which waits to be cultivated until marriage.  Just as we don't wait to cultivate a good football team with solid plays and good communication until game day (unless, apparently, you're the Broncos...), I ought not be waiting to cultivate my godly womanhood until marriage. 

I say I am looking for a man to do ministry with - that in seeking a husband, my primary goal is to do ministry in a way that I would not be able to do otherwise.  And I say that, but do I always mean it?  In my head I mean it - I think, gosh, if I find a man who I love and am attracted to and can do ministry with me, I'll marry him.  But if he doesn't met all of those criteria, then I won't marry and I'll just do ministry alone.  But is that really what I'm seeking?  Or am I just too afraid to try a messy relationship with another sinner?  What would this relationship even look like?

And the thing is, I just don't know.  Am I one of those women who is called to singleness for the rest of my life?  I don't know.  I heard a sermon once about relationships, and the pastor said that if we were one of those people called to a life of singleness, we'd know.  Otherwise, our goal should be to pursue godly dating and a godly view of sex and relationships until we are married.  But the thing is, I'm not sure if I'm one of those "single" people or not... I have yet to feel that I "need" a man.  I'm quite content to do life in a single fashion - now.  So does that make me someone who is called to singleness?  But I don't know if I'll always feel that way.  I do desire to get married - someday (I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't).  But I don't know what being in a relationship in which both people are pursing God more than they are pursuing one another even looks like or acts like or feels like.  And I want someone to show me, so that I can know for sure.  So that I can try it and say - yes, this is something I think I am supposed to have in my life, this is something that I think God has called me to, or so I can say - no, this is not what God has called me to.  God has called me to a life of singleness and contentment in him alone.  And then I can stop wondering and move on.

Part of me wonders if I'm too weak to handle a relationship.  That I would be the worst Christian wife ever, because I wrestle with defining what my role is, and acting on it.  What if I'm too much of a sinner to be able to balance a relationship with a man and a relationship with God and His local church and work and whatever else I'm up to?  Part of me thinks that I would begin to idolize that man, that I would be simultaneously too afraid to let myself go and too involved to get out. 

But then part of me thinks that I'm too weak to handle life alone.  That without someone to come home to at the end of the day, without someone to point me and guide me, without that solidarity and consistency, especially with what God has called me to do, that I would simply fall apart and be of no use to anyone. 

The thought of being married scares me a little.  But so does the thought of never getting married.  The thought of going to a third world country like the DRC or rural Pakistan completely alone, without a husband, without a brother in Christ to support me and love me and walk with me through that experience, to hold me accountable, to encourage me and to talk with me, to balance me out... that terrifies me.  And so I feel stuck... 

I want to be running after Christ with such fierce tenacity that my husband has to run with me to not loose me to God.  I want him to be in front of me so that I can draft off him when I am tired, so that he can show me the way when I am lost, and I want to be strong enough to pick him up when he falls.  I want to be so wrapped up in Christ that we cannot help but be wrapped up together.  I want to have the singular sense of companionship in Christ with one another that I see in some of the marriages at church.

But I'm beginning to think that I'm too afraid of being let down that I won't open myself to the fact that God may in fact have a husband in my future.  I may even already know him.  Why should I doubt that?  What reason, what possible cause could I have for not trusting in the Lord, the creator of the universe, who has my life in His hands?  I'd rather have God in control of my life than myself - I'm going to screw it up.  But God?  God will not screw up.  He does not make mistakes.  He has not let me down to this point, and He will not let me down in the future.  If God promises me a husband, He will give one to me.  It may not be in my timing.  It may not be who I think or when I think or how I think, but He will deliver on his promises.  He always does.  Why am I so afraid of letting God make that promise to me?  Am I afraid that I will not hear that promise?  Or am I afraid that I will hear that promise?

I honestly don't know.

The Last Day

Yes, today is my last day being vegan.

It's been an interesting and fantastic journey.  One I most certainly do not regret. I have learned about discipline, God's mighty provision, about what is truly important, about how to be more flexible.  I have been pushed and challenged to share my faith in ways that I would not otherwise have done.  I have been able to minister to people in ways I could not have foreseen, and I have been challenged to trust the Lord, despite not knowing what He had in mind for me. 

And I am about to take that step again, just the flip side.  I went vegan out of blind obedience, and I will return to eating everything out of blind obedience.  

I would be lying if I said that all of me wanted to remain vegan.  Certainly part of me does.  But there are certainly parts of me that do wish I could eat meat.  That I could go to Z-Burger and get a real burger and not just fries. But I am not making this decision out of indulgence or tiredness.  I have prayed through this for the better part of a month now, I have thought and talked with people.  I have been convicted in my heart, and through scripture. 

I believe that if I continue in this lifestyle any longer, it would only be detrimental to me.  I have started to pursue veganism for the praise of man, rather than the glory of God.  I see myself falling into the trap of continuing not out of obedience, but rather out of fear of failure (or rather, perceived failure).  I have begun to be legalistic about it, which is never something we ought to do.

So I am about to be challenged once again. I am going to be re-teaching myself what it looks like to live an obedient life without having a "vegan" title to discuss.  I am going to learn about deliberately tearing praise of man from myself, because the Lord is sufficient.   I am going to be learning about fighting the part of me that pursues titles and fame - and that in my family (both blood and church), nobody cares whether I'm vegan or not. 

So today I will enjoy my salad, but tomorrow - tomorrow I will be enjoying some delicious Sushi.  :)  There will be pictures to come.

Regarding Biblical Womanhood, Part II: Marriage

Biblical womanhood is something I have been wrestling with for the last year - sometimes rather reluctantly.  What does it look like?  Especially for me - how does it affect me personally - a woman who isn't sure she's ever going to get married?  What does it mean for the woman who used to be a staunch feminist and is now pretty sure that most "real" feminists would be ashamed of her, but is also reluctant to let go of that title (fear of man, anyone)?  In a world that simultaneously tells me that women are distinctly less than men, and that women are exactly equal to men in every way, where does the Biblical truth lie? And how do I go from the former extremes to the truth?

This is (for some of you) going to be a scary thing to hear from me, but I'm slowly changing my mind about what biblical womanhood ought to look like.  I believe the Bible - the word of the holy and living God - says that wives ought to submit to their husbands.  Yes, it's true - I said it.  It's in the Bible pretty clearly.  Over and over.  I'm not entirely sure it's something that I like...  and it's definitely not something I understand.  I've never been in a (romantic) relationship that is built on God instead of self (I'm only now learning how to have a friendship built on this premise).  The word "submission" still makes me twitch and cringe and wiggle around with great discomfort, and occasionally anger and resentment.

But my pastors have challenged me to examine whether I am projecting my own desires and views onto the Bible, or if I am truly allowing the Bible to shape and change the way I interact with the world.  And so I have begun examining.  And one thing that has come to light is that the Bible is clear - wives ought to submit to their husbands.  The flip side of that coin, of course, is that husbands ought to love their wives the way Christ loved the church.  If that were happening, then submission wouldn't be such an issue.  (But, as sinners, no matter how hard we might try, none of us are the husbands or wives we ought to be. Therein lies the root of the extreme worldviews mentioned above.)

This whole concept makes me incredibly uncomfortable.  I don't like the idea of submitting to anyone.  I don't even always like submitting to God - sometimes that involves doing or saying things that make me (and others around me) very uncomfortable.  But to submit myself to a human man?!  That seems like too much to ask on some days.

And then I look around.  I look around my church and I see marriages that work.  Marriages based on this principle of reciprocal submission and love.  Not just my pastors' marriage, but just regular couples in the church.  It really truly works.  I don't get it.  It really freaks me out some days.  But I can see that the marriages of the church are truly more robust, healthier, and more fulfilling than any other marriage I've ever seen.
 
It still makes me nervous.  I'm still resistant, and hesitant. 

But when it comes down to it, understanding what a Biblical marriage ought to look like is rooted in my understanding of my identity as a woman of Christ.  Throughout the Bible, God uses the metaphor of a prostitute, of an unworthy bride to symbolize the church, with Him as the bridegroom.

I am that prostitute.  I am the one who returns to my evil ways, despite the love of the Lord.  I follow my own plans, rather than His.  I whore myself out to the world, to the traps of pursuit of glory, money, power, fame, success, living the American dream, and many other things which, in the end enslave me.  But I don't see that.  I am the one who all too happily and freely gives out her identity and security to the nearest and easiest promise, which is almost always one of the world and not of God.

And God still pursued (and continues to pursue) me.  My sinful and wretched heart.  To the point of Marriage.  Forever and ever.  With me.  A filthy whore. All I have to do is not run away. 

Why then, should I wait to understand what Biblical marriage looks like?  If marriage between a man and a woman is to be a reflection of the marriage covenant between Christ and his church, shouldn't I seek to understand that as fully and deeply as I can, now?  Shouldn't I, as a single Christian woman who has time and intelligence and reason and community, understand the Biblical marriage covenant better than anyone?

Things I Wish I'd Known Earlier About College...

• You don't have to find your best friends immediately - or even your first year.  Cultivating relationships and building new ones is a good thing.  You're allowed to feel a little lost.  Just don't let it paralyze you.
• Procrastination is NEVER a good thing.  [And yet so tempting...]
• However, procrastination is never an excuse for not doing your homework.
• Group projects suck just as much as they did in high school.  Maybe more.  But professors still assign them, so get over it.
• Oreos and Ice Cream (together or separately) make the best late night desserts (or sorbet, if you happen to be vegan...)
• Learning how to laugh with your roommate, at your roommate, and allowing your roommate to laugh at you will make life infinitely more fun and easy.
• Sometimes implementing a bedtime, even in college, is a good thing.
• Grades are not as important as your parents told you they were.
• Journal.  It's good for the soul.
• You should never buy your textbooks from the bookstore.
• You're allowed to jump on your bed now, whenever you want - if you want.  And you should want, because it's great fun!
• You can even jump on your bed in red onesie pj's and sing Michael Jackson into your hairbrush at the top of your lungs at 12am if you want.
• Spend time with little kids.  They're one of the best, most sanctifying and most encouraging gifts God has given us, even if they aren't biologically yours.
• Make yourself a little bit vulnerable.
• Making friends with people who own cars is a good thing.  Just remember to give them gas money.
• If you have a car, be nice to people who don't.  They'll be eternally grateful, and you might make some new friends in the process.
• Sometimes people are just grumpy.  Some people are always grumpy.  It doesn't mean you have to be.
• You do not have to know what you are doing with your life.
• You do not have to know what you are doing with your life.
• One more time: YOU DO NOT HAVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING WITH YOUR LIFE! God's plans are very often not our plans.  Tear up your 10-year plan.  It's worthless.
• Learn to love the chaos.
• Cultivating your silly is important.
• You will be poor.  It's ok - it will make you creatively resourceful.
• You will eat a lot of microwave food.  It may or may not give you cancer, depending on who you talk to.  But you will eat microwave food or starve, so you will eat microwave food and risk the cancer.
• Couscous is the BEST college dorm meal - boil water, pour in couscous, let sit.  Enjoy.  Easiest. Thing. Ever.
• You're allowed to bend some of the rules.
• You don't NEED a printer.  But they're nice to have...
• You DO need more than one set of sheets and one set of towels, no matter what your father tells you HE went through school with (the uphill-both-ways-in-the-snow-stories from your parents - tell them to be a big girl/boy and get over it.  You need at least 2 sets of each).
• Similarly, you do not NEED to do laundry until you are out of underwear.  But when you are out of underwear, you NEED to do laundry.
• Flip flops, tie-dye t-shirts, jeans that you have worn every day this week, sweats, pj's, oversize hoodies, and mismatched outfits are all acceptable to wear to class.
• You can fit 2 loads of laundry into 1 dryer.
• You need tupperware.  So you can steal a weeks worth of meals from the dining hall. Plan it into your schedule
• Living in a dorm is tight.  (Literally, it's a tight space.  But it can also be cool, yo) You will learn to deal.
• Living on campus is a good experience, even if it's hard some days.
• Stop complaining.
• Engage - with everything.
• Don't burn things.  Setting off the fire alarm in your building makes EVERYONE mad.
• Send letters.  Find a friend and be pen pals.  Getting mail is fun, sending mail is even funner.
• You're allowed to make up words like "funner", as long as you do it with authority.
• You're allowed to have hard days.  Some of them will be so challenging and difficult, you'll want to cry.  Some days you will cry.
• You're not allowed to have bad days.  Every day is a gift from the Lord, so treat it as such
• You are allowed to cry
• You are allowed to miss home
• Call your parents every now and again, just to say hi

 Most importantly:

• Learn, love, and grow.  Do everything to the glory of the Lord - all else will fall into place.  

Things That Frustrate Me About Higher Education

Stereotypes.  And conversely, hipster stereotypes.  Because yes, they do it too - its just the flip side of the same coin (and yes, I do recognize the irony that I am stereotyping here too).  It's like being a non-conformist by rejecting everything that is popular just because it's popular. 

For those of you who don't go to AU - I go to a school that is sometimes very challenging.  Both in good ways and in bad.  Because everyone is so into rejecting stereotypes and being "enlightened", that sometimes people miss reality altogether.  It can be very elitist. 

Today, for example, I was in my contemporary Africa class.  Talk about a class that tries to defeat stereotypes... Africa isn't inferior.  Africa isn't all poor.  Africa isn't "tribal".  Africa has civilization.  Africans are smart.  Africans are the same as Europeans, when it comes down to it. Africa deserves study unique to itself. And on and on and on.*

But sometime the sterotypes merit close examination.  Because sometimes they are completely true.

We have been told that stereotyping is wrong.  That assuming others are inferior is wrong.  That acknowledging that differences are bad is wrong.   Cultural relativity is something that has permeated our culture so deeply, that we do not even recognize it's fingerprints sometimes. 

In comparing Switzerland (a country with 4 official languages because of it's great diversity) and Nigeria (a country which has 250+ recognized  ethno-linguistic groups), I offered up the analysis that Germans, French, and Italians have a strong common underlying culture, that often overrides the differences, allowing them to live peacefully together despite the differences.  Meanwhile, the 250+ in Nigeria have an overwhelming number of differences rather than similarities, which override the potential unity of cultures and creates intra-state conflict and interstate conflict.  Which makes unification, operation, and involvement in the international community extremely difficult.  

[In retrospect, I could have articulated this better.  What I meant was that the actual, statistical number of things that could be classified as "different" and "common" might be exactly the same, or even in favor of Nigeria.  What I mean (and this is strictly my perception) is that the RELATIVE number of differences and commonalities are extremely different.  As in, the relative strength or weakness of each.]

My professor quickly shut me down on my "differences over commonalities" theory.  She did it respectfully, and I appreciate that, but it was quite clear that she thought I was dead wrong.  And we then proceeded to discuss the extreme difference between various countries and groups within countries for the next hour.  And there are many significant differences.  It was a nuanced thing, probably something only I noticed (although perhaps that is not affording my classmates enough credit)... But it frustrated me.  Because this, folks, is cultural relativity in action.  This is my professor telling me that the stereotype is wrong, because no culture can be wrong, and then proving that she is wrong in the span of an hour and a half.   [Welcome to AU].

The inverse-stereotype that exists in this academic sphere (especially, in a most extreme version, on this campus and in the IR department) is that Africa's countries are not inherently any different than European countries, they were just unfortunately involved in some of Europe's shadier moments and came out with the short end of the stick, because of various factors beyond their control.  To suggest otherwise makes you an uneducated rat who doesn't deserve to be in college.  But the truth of the matter is, they ARE different.  In a lot of ways.  In attempting to avoid stereotyping with "common" stereotypes - the stereotypes that were part of the "old age", the less enlightened way of thinking - She inadvertently fell into intellectually dishonest territory.  She (and many others in the class who reacted to my statement), in attempting to be "fair and equal" actually found themselves being dishonest.  They were analyzing the situation and history based upon their presupposed conclusions rather than allowing the history to tell them what truly happened.  And the honest truth is, that with a vacuum of strong leadership virtually anywhere on the continent, factions rivaled one another as soon as the common enemy left.  Once the relative strength of that unifying factor was eliminated, the relative strength of the differences grew.

Clearly, people in Switzerland are not having problems with genocide, toppling various dictators every other decade, collapsing economies, rebel armies, or stolen resources.  So people with vast and numerous differences CAN live together.  And despite the fact that they may not even like each other, the underlying issue is that they do not FEAR one another.  The problem in much of Africa is that everyone who is different poses a threat.  Because they might try to take away your water resources.  Or your land.  Or your children.  Or your virginity.  Or your government position.  Or any other number of things.  And so people protect.  And they take up arms to protect.  And they fight to preemptively take out anyone who might be a future threat.  Because that's just how it is.  The fear exacerbates the differences, and makes them stronger than the similarities. 

And that's an issue that needs to be honestly addressed before Africa is going to come anywhere close to being as stable as Switzerland.  I don't care what you believe about the superiority or inferiority or equality of Africans - there is nothing good about a state that is that destabilized. It doesn't have to resemble Switzerland in any other way, but stability is a necessity. 

So there you have it.  Intellectual dishonesty makes me CRAZY.  As do stereotypes.  And sometimes, hipsters. 



*Please understand - I'm not saying these are false.  They aren't bad or dishonest.  I am not saying that Africans are unable to overcome differences.  I am not saying they are "worse" or "lesser" people than the people of Switzerland.  But these are the converse stereotypes - the reactionary version of colonialism in a post-modern enlightened era, if you will - which dominates the field in general.  And sometimes things are more complicated than stereotypes.  But also, sometimes there is truth in the "old, uneducated" way of thinking.  And this needs to be recognized. 

P.S.  You know what else makes me crazy?!  When people ramble.  So if you made it all the way through this - congratulations.  And my sincerest apologies.

Regarding Biblical Womanhood, Part I: Sex

So there was a sermon a couple weeks ago about sex.  Yes, you read that correctly - it's not a type-o.  Sex.  We talked about it.  In church.  With my pastor...  Awkward? There were definitely moments.  Important and enlightening? Absolutely.    (It was actually very, very good.  You can listen to it at http://www.restorationchurchdc.com/2011/09/a-biblical-view-of-sex/ It was extremely edifying and well-handled.)

We talked about why it's important to talk about sex.  Especially in church.  We talked about what sex should be and what sex shouldn't be. Because let's face it - sex is something that gets talked about outside the church.  A lot.  We're bombarded with it.  So maybe it's something we should talk about in church too. 

It's something I've heard over and over - you don't have sex 'til your married, otherwise you're a dirty filthy whore.  You don't talk about masturbation, or about desires, or about struggling with singleness.  Porn is a no-no, and if you're stuck in a porn addiction, you ought to be ashamed of yourself and just buck up and pull yourself out by your bootstraps, because real godly men don't ever struggle with that issue.  And women don't struggle with any of this.  Sex is for marriage, so just hold on until you get there, but even then, don't talk about it!  It's still kinda dirty and we don't really want to think that we enjoy something like that, because we were told it was bad for all our lives!

The reality is that men and women alike, Christian or not, struggle with things like porn, masturbation, having sex outside of marriage, lustful thoughts, homosexual behaviour, dressing inappropriately, not guarding their hearts, and otherwise engaging in inappropriate behavior.  Statistics say it's rampant, friends experiences say its rampant - even my experience tells me it's rampant.  So yea, I'd say it's a pretty important thing to talk about.  No matter how uncomfortable it makes you.

I have very people very near and dear to my heart who have had sex outside of marriage.  Who have objectified members of the opposite sex.  Who have lusted after a relationship (sometimes even a relationship for the sake of itself) for the physical element.  Who have dressed inappropriately to get attention.  Who have been involved in porn and masturbation.  I myself have struggled with nearly every one of these things at some point in my life.  And they are issues that need to be addressed in a healthy, biblical manner - which means we have to talk about them.

This sermon raised some interesting issues.  How should we talk about sex?  How should we talk about marriage, for that matter?  What about gender roles?  What about defining biblical manhood and womanhood, singleness, and relationships?  Why are they important to talk about?  

Sex ought to be a good thing.  It's healthy, it's joyful - it's something God created! When Adam and Eve started having sex in the garden, it wasn't a surprise to God.  Sex is good.  But only in the context in which God ordained.  But that's not the answer the world likes.  The world would have you believe that sex with anyone, anywhere, anytime = freedom and happiness.  But my pastor gave an analogy, and its one that merits repeating.  Imagine there's a train.  On the tracks, it's free to go wherever it wants, as efficiently as it pleases, arriving on time and safely.  The train is doing exactly what it is designed to do, and is doing it well, so we say it is good.  If you put that very same train in the very same spot, but without the tracks, it will not go anywhere.  Before, it was "confined" by the tracks.  Now, you say, you have set the train free!  But where will the train go?  What will it do?  Will it do it well?  No.  Such are God's mandates for our lives.  The rules exist in order to give us freedom, not to take it away from us.  The question then becomes - do I love God's authority more than I love my own authority?  Am I willing to submit myself to the Lord's will for my life - including in this area?

What does a biblical view of sex mean for me?  I'll be blatantly honest for a moment: the desire is there.  I desire to have sex.  God gave me that desire, so that's ok.  But I'm not married.  I'm not even in a romantic relationship of any sort.  So how do I balance those two things?

Primarily, I think I (we) need to understand that sex is not the end-all-be-all of relationships, of my experience here on earth, or of enjoying someone else's company, be it in a Biblical marriage or not.   Culture certainly tells me that it is.  Even the church sometimes tells me that it is.  The "just hold on until you get there" line - what about the people who never get married?  The church sometimes treats sex in the same manner that culture treats it - it's just the flip side of the same coin.  It's hyped up into something more than what it is - something it shouldn't be. 

If I may, I'll have another honest moment:  There is a chance I will die a virgin.  And that just has to be ok.  Because to say that it is not would be to up-end the order which God created, and to fancy myself having a better comprehension of good than God - which is absurd.  His glory is ultimate.  Everything else is not.  Will there be sex in heaven?  I don't know.  Maybe, maybe not (that's a debate for another time). But the bottom line is, sex is not the only way to glorify God.  It is not even the best way (perhaps you disagree?  Let's talk.  I'd be interested to hear what you have to say - but that is not a conversation for this particular blog post).  Glorifying God is my ultimate mission - not pursuing my own pleasures.  I don't exactly know what that means for me yet, but I know that God is in control.  And I am not. And I will (humbly attempt, and often fail to) submit myself to his Holy and almighty authority.

Earthquakes, Hurricanes, and Bombs, Oh My!

So the last 3 weeks have certainly seen their fair share of excitement here in DC.  The first week I was back, I was welcomed home with my first ever earthquake experience (also, it happened to be the biggest quake DC has seen in almost 100 years...) and a hurricane.  Then, 2 weeks later, the 10th anniversary of 9/11 sent everyone into a hysterical tizzy about potential threats against the city.

One common thread seems to be that of over-reaction.  I've noticed that this city is on edge, always ready to jump to the conclusion that someone is bombing, attacking, or otherwise creating general chaos and mayhem here in the capitol city.  The earthquake - while definitely a shaking experience (ha! I'm so clever...) - was met with evacuated buildings in DC, New York, and Boston, and the remainder of the work day being called off for most Federal employees (yes, it was a big earthquake.  But when the only thing that happens is 3 spires fall off the top of the cathedral, it doesn't warrant an extra week of vacation for all feds...). 

Irene, with her potentially disastrous threat only 4 days later, had the city out buying up every bottle of water and every bit of food with long shelf life that existed in district limits (and beyond).  I was told to expect power outages for upwards of 48 hours, to prepare an evacuation bag in case we had to evacuate the entire campus (where on earth they would have put us, I have no idea - I sit on quite possible THE highest spot in the entire DC limits... if AU is flooded, this city is screwed, bigtime), and to get ready to bunker down and see the terror of the heavens open up upon us. 

With 9/11, the city news had near-constant reports on the "update" of a "credible but unconfirmed" terrorist threat against DC (if that's not vague enough for you, you should go to work for the government).  Many people (especially people, ironically, not directly in the DC area) were concerned, and we were told to stay home, to stay off public transportation, to watch out for stolen Penske trucks, and to generally be on high alert. 

You'd think DC was about ready to fall to shambles, yes?  With an earthquakes and hurricanes that are "the wrath of God" trying to get the attention of the dirty politicians, with the bomb threats galore, with everything - it's mass chaos!!

Actually, here's what really happened:  An earthquake hit us.  It was a little bit weird... The building really does sway, for those of you who have never experienced one.  It shook for upwards of 45 seconds, but the first 25-30 seconds of that, it just felt like a really big rumble of thunder might, or like someone was rolling a really heavy cart down the hall... A few pictures fell down.  A couple of the topmost spires on the National Cathedral also came crashing down, but the spires were, in all fairness, solid pointy things of stone which were bound to break during something like that (See Physics 101 if you don't understand why).  Also, the Washington Monument suffered some damage, but the same general principle applies to Washington as it does to the Cathedral Spires.... It was weird and kind of exciting, but not particularly "scary" or "wrathful".  The hurricane forced me to spend a whole 24 hours inside, while it rained fairly hard and was pretty windy outside.  The power did not go out.  The city did not flood.   There was no rapture.  It was just very very humid for about 4 days... Then this past weekend, I went out.  On the Metro.  And the bus system.  Nobody was panicked.  There were no bombs that went off - not even thwarted attempts.  I had fun this weekend, hanging out with friends.  There was remembrance, but no chaos. 

While I recognize that each of these events could have potentially been significantly more disastrous, (And I am praising God that they were not, at least for me) and while I am not downplaying or ignoring the significance of this city, or of the events on 9/11, I'm noticing a problematic pattern here... People are driven by fear.  Fear of bombs, of flooding, of having to live 4 or 5 or 6 days without power, or without transportation.  Fear, even after the fact, of what "could have happened".  Fear of not having control, of being forced outside their comfort box. 

While I don't particularly like the idea of living a week or more without power, I think I could manage.  I am resourceful, and creative.  I am not the type of person to typically be paralyzed by fear.  But most importantly, my identity is not rooted in anything earthly.  My identity, and therefore my hope and my trust is in the Lord.  This city is driven by fear because this city holds its identity in power, in prestige, in comfort and in people.  This city, for obvious reasons, holds its identity in nationalism, in patriotism, and especially in works and doings and business.  This city is a city of go-getters who are all (as a broad generalization) lacking a genuine community.  These people simply circle one another, searching for some semblance of power, but most people in this city, if they were honest, would be alone.  Because of all of these things, and more, this city is prone to overreact.  Often, and substantially.  But perfect love drives out fear.

"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son.  This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us. into the world that we might live through him.

We know that we live in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. And we have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world. If anyone acknowledges that Jesus is the Son of God, God lives in him and he in God. And so we know and rely on the love God has for us.

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in him. In this way, love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment, because in this world we are like him. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." - 1 John 4:7-18

It's seems cliche.  But it's true.  And actually, it's not cliche, because it's so profound once you truly understand it.  It's only cliche when it's shallow.   And it truly makes living in this city an entirely different experience, when you can experience they joys and the resources and the wonderful fun, and the people without all the fear and the hype.  Because God is not about fear and hype.

Still going...

This is a somewhat nostalgic list of the top ten foods that I miss... (and maybe the first ten foods I'll eat when I go back to eating all food...)

1.  Mozzarella sticks (and all cheese products)
2. Chili Cheese Fries
3. Breakfast Burritos
4. Chicken Piccatta
5. My Grandmother's Molasses Crinkle Cookies
6. Real Milk with my Cereal
7. Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory
8. A Really Good, Juicy Burger from Red Robin (or my Dad)
9. My Sister's Homemade Cinnamon Rolls
10. (I never thought I'd say this....) A good, stone-oven baked pizza with real cheese and some sort of meat...
11.  Sushi
12. My sisters shish-kebobs.  :) (yes, I know that's two more than ten...)

So yes, I'm still vegan.  But that doesn't mean I can't dream, right?  :)

Although the last few months have certainly presented their fair share of challenges in the way of dietary restrictions, it's also been an incredibly fruitful and unexpectedly delightful time for me to grow and learn.  There have been many significant moments, none of which I could have foreseen, in which being vegan allowed me to share my experience and my faith in a completely new way.  Although it continues to be challenging, I will continue to pursue this challenge until God calls me to something else... 

Permanent Ink and Singing Stars

There are a lot of things I need to blog about - I did a very, very poor job of communicating with people this summer.  So I will spend the next few weeks attempting to get updated with all things new and exciting (or old and repetitive) in my life, but only one at a time.  Given, however, the new (and apparently surprising) addition to my person, I think the first thing to address ought to be my new tattoo. 

Yes, I got a tattoo.  Yes, my parents know (do you really think I'm stupid enough to post about it on my blog if my parents didn't know?).  No, they don't really "approve" per se, but they did give me permission before I got it (yes, I also know that I'm 20 and don't technically need their approval... but I wanted it.  Get over it). 

It's a, well, let's call it unique tattoo, to be certain.  I've gotten a lot of funny looks when I show it to people.  So, I think I ought to figure out an eloquent way to articulate it, even if only for myself. Here you go:

If you haven't read The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, first, you ought to go get it from the library and read it (or from me), it's a wonderful book, and secondly, my tattoo may still make no sense to you, even after reading this.  So just go read it.  The Little Prince is my favorite book, given to me by a very dear friend at a moment in my life when I needed a reminder of it's themes and ideas.  To recap, the story goes something like this:

It's narrated by an adult who, when he was a child, he wanted to be an artist.  But the adults didn't understand his drawings (a drawing of a boa constrictor eating an elephant, which was mistaken for a cowboy hat), and so told him to give up art and pursue something "practical" and "meaningful".  The man became a pilot, but always lamented not cultivating his artistic skill. 

The story begins when the man crashes his plane in the Sahara Desert.  During his attempts to rebuild his plane, a golden haired boy appears out of nowhere and asks the man to draw him a sheep.  This young boy is the Little Prince.  The narrator insists that he cannot draw a sheep, but draws him his snake instead.  The prince recognizes it for what it really is, which surprises the man, but he still insists upon his sheep.  As the story progresses, the man slowly uncovers the story of the young boy... He lived on his own planet (Asteroid B-612), along with 3 volcanoes and a vain rose with whom the Little Prince is in love.  The Prince, eventually disillusioned with his Planet, left to visit other planets to try to find companionship and purpose.  Along the way he encounters a variety of adults (6, on 6 other planets, to be exact) who seem to be living their lives in ridiculous and/or roundabout manners, which confuses and discourages the prince. Eventually, he gets to Earth.  He finds a field of roses, and at once decides he is never returning to his flower - he thought his rose was a one-of-a-kind, but here in front of him were a field of roses that looked just like her.   

As the story progresses, the boy and the man become good friends, and through the course of a few days, while the man fixes his plane, his relationship with the Prince convinces the boy to return home.  It was his love that tamed the flower, that made her unique, not her outward being, and he ought to treasure that.  The man helped the Prince get back to his asteroid, and in the process experienced the gain and loss of a friend.  In the loss of his dear friend, he discovered that he never could look at the stars the same way - he swore that he had special stars, that he could hear them laughing with him whenever he was lonely, because he knew the Little Prince was up there, loving his flower and missing his adult friend. 

Only a few people have actually asked me why I bothered to get something so seemingly childish and trivial permanently inked on my body, but I can see the question lingering in almost everyone I show it to, so here goes: 

The snake and the desert sky are the first and last illustrations of the book, which make for nice symmetry in my mind (silly, but true).  The snake is a reminder to always be captivated by a childlike sense of wonder.  One of my favorite things about God is how big he is - it was one of the first things I fell in love with.  He often turns something that looks like one thing into an entirely different something, and better thing; one only has to be able to see it in a manner of wonder and limitless conception (imagination, if you will, although nothing of God is of imagining, it is of the utmost reality).  The rose is a reminder that my identity, my uniqueness and my worth are all founded in the love of Christ.  Not in my outward, physical being - not in my skills or my beauty or my abilities, but solely in the love of Christ.  The desert scene from the end is a reminder that in allowing my identity to be shaped by God, I can shape others.  I can be a vessel through which God loves others, and begins to transform them.  I can give others singing stars, so to speak.  And I can have laughing stars in the way I allow others to love me.  To be vulnerable and honest is the only way in which we can develop true relationships. 

Perhaps a bit deep for a childrens' book, yes?  But I don't think the book was written for children at all. 

Oh, How The Joy Overfloweth!

I have a lot to blog about.  From the summer, from DC, about my new tattoo (yes, tattoo...), school, and many other things.  But one thing comes to the forefront at this particular moment:

I am so, so blessed!  Beyond my comprehension.  Not just in my ability to go to school (though that is a HUGE blessing in so many ways), the fact that I won the genetic and geographic "lottery" (although I don't believe it was random in any manner), have access to basic amenities and have avoided much (though not all) discrimination in life, or in the fact that I have the most wonderful family anyone could ask for, but in another way that is particularly unexpected....(though let me be clear - all these are things that are very very true, and very very apparent to me as enormous provisions from the hand of the Almighty).

No, I am blessed tonight because of one thing - Restoration Church (specifically, the women there).  I never, ever thought I would count a group of women sitting around a table making cards (yes, you read that correctly - making cards) as one of the biggest blessings in my life, but oh, how it is such a blessing!  I cannot tell you what a joy and an honor it is to be counted among these women as a friend and sister in Christ!  I have never, ever felt so beloved by a community in my life [not counting, of course, my family - by a chosen community, I suppose...].  Least of all did I expect it to be a group of Southern, Church-going (Baptist, for that matter!) women who sit around and make their own cards who would fill the shoes of the community I did not know I needed, and thought I did not want.  But they have filled it, and the cup overfloweth (oh, how it overflows!!!!)....

The Lord, in his Almighty and perfect providence, provided to me something I did not know I wanted, or needed.  But good gracious!  These women, despite knowing the dirty, dark, and un-sanctified places of my heart, still love me in a way I thought only existed in fairy tales.  I did not grow up with a close group of women who loved me whole-heartedly and joyfully.  I distrusted women, especially adult women, and did not seek their company.  I did not want anything to do with these women when I first walked through the doors of RC.  But they pulled me in anyways (and what fun it has been!)....

So now I spend my Friday evenings making delightful and gorgeous cards, and laughing so hard I think I'm going to pee my pants.  And feeling more loved than I have ever, ever felt before. 

Despite the mess that I am, I have not been this joyful in a long, long time.  

Exhaustion and Bubbles

There has been much weighing on my mind recently.  Not the least of which is how over-worked and under-rested I am at this particular moment. I am regretting my decision to work 60+ hours/week this summer. 

I love my coaching job with (almost) all of my being.  I love the kids, and my fellow coaches.  It has been a joy and an honor to work with such a great staff and (for the most part) great team this summer, and to get to do something I love (and get paid for it!).  My office job, on the other hand, has progressively become more and more challenging.  I am discovering very quickly that God's provision is not always what my provision would have been.  It has certainly been a wonderful opportunity to learn and grow, but a challenging, difficult, and rarely enjoyable one.  The frustration from one job, the time consumption of another, the excessive hours and little sleep finally caught up to me last week.  I couldn't move.  I didn't want to move.  I haven't been that tired since high school (which, for those of you who know me, is quite a significant statement).   To put it in perspective, I called in to work on Wednesday morning, which put me at 9 hours of sleep, Thursday through Saturday nights I averaged about 7 hours of sleep per night.  I then slept for 17 (yes, you read that right.... 17) hours yesterday, and am just now beginning to feel like a functional human being again. 

In all of this exhaustion and frustration, I have found some undesirable and unpleasant emotions bubbling up and rising to the surface.  My irritability, for one.  Anger, for another.  More anger than I'd like to admit.  While there are many, many issues which were thought-resolved-but-aren't I have discovered in the past few weeks, there is one in particular that irks me more than the rest.  That is the issue of men. 

I have never felt the need to date simply for the sake of dating.  I'm quite comfortable being single (actually, significant and complete commitment to one man still freaks me out a little bit...), and I rather enjoy the freedom it allows me.  But I am human, and there are moments when I panic, think I'm going to die alone and single, having never had a significant relationship in my life.  I went on a few dates in High School (very few... and rarely was there more than 2 with the same guy), but never really clicked with anyone.  It wasn't until my senior year that I had any real relationship of any sort. 

I'm not entirely sure how to approach this topic gracefully or tactfully.  In fact, I'm not sure there is a way... I don't like bad-mouthing people, and I try very hard to avoid anything of the sort.  But I think this is one of the ways in which well-meaning women (and, although less often, men) can be used as a doormat; when women (or men) are afraid to stand up and say to the world that someone has hurt them in a significant way, simply because they don't want to hurt anyone, they damage themselves and let others get away with it.  So I suppose it's time I came out and admitted that the last guy I dated really, really messed with me.  So much so that I haven't been on a single date since him, not out of disinterest but, in part, out of genuine fear and incredible hurt. 

The sad thing is not that our relationship was the problem (although it was problematic...), but it was our post-dating relationship which really did the damage.  It does not matter how - that is a private matter - but the problem is that because I fancy myself a kind, drama-free, honest person, I allowed myself to be manipulated and used in ways I didn't know was possible.  And the end result cost me not just his friendship, but every single one of our mutual friends as well.  At a time when my life was falling apart right in front of me, he nearly single-handedly destroyed all precious people and relationships in my life, and left me with only ashes of what I used to know. 

And wouldn't it be poetic and wonderful and inspiring if I could conclude now with imagery of a phoenix rising from the ashes, of a person remade and all the more beautiful and empowered because of it?  But that's not how this ends.  I'm still in the ashes stage (yes, even now, 2 1/2 years later...).  I'm trying to get over the anger (and how deep it runs), to forgive, but it's not as easy as it sounds (even as petty as this fight was).  I'm still working to let go, to learn to trust men again, and to try to figure all this out.  I'm trying to figure out my identity as a woman, how empowerment and feminism plays into my role (if at all) as a woman of Christ, how my standards for men in general (and, hopefully, my future husband) need to change, and how I need to change if I am to become the person God has called me to be.  I'm learning a lot, about myself and about others.  But it really just sucks some days.

Reflections from Haiti: Part 3

I've been back for almost exactly one and a half months, and I'm just now at a point where I can talk about the trip without having to fight back tears, where I can walk into a grocery store without feeling like I just got punched in the stomach, and where I can actually interact with humanity in a semi-normal manner. 

But I am not over this trip.  I can not get over this trip.  I don't know that I ever will. 

Days 2.5, 3, 4, and 5 were all spent at the orphanage and in the community, painting and loving on the children, enjoying one anothers company, growing and learning together, and sharing the gospel. It was these days that touched my heart so profoundly.  The country and the people and the love and joy and the fellowship with my brothers and sisters - all of these things resonated with me. 

This mission trip was a new one for me.  Not in the sense that I'd never been on a mission trip before - I've been on a few - but in the way it was run, in the way we approached it.  Every other trip I've been on was goal-oriented.  Not to say this one wasn't but it was in a very different way.  Other trips have been oriented around accomplishing some sort of building task.  This one was people-oriented, not task-oriented.  The goal was to love, and share the Gospel. 

This was the first trip for me where there was a significant language barrier.  I've been to Mexico, but I spoke Spanish pretty well at the time, so it wasn't a big deal. Similarly, on the Native American reservations I've been to, one family spoke English, and the other family we never even met, much less communicated with.  And those parts were so isolated that we never saw or interacted with the neighbors.   This trip, however, required a huge learning curve.  I went in not knowing Kreyol at all.  I can't say I know much now, but I'm at least working on it.  I can say basic things like "Hello", "What is your name?", "Praise Jesus!", "I don't speak Kreyol", and "Don't touch that."

This trip (this year - well, let's be honest, this new life) has completely changed the way I think about almost everything.   I still don't have words.  I still feel like I can't articulate this trip to anyone who asks.  My heart is still there, with those children and those people.  I look through my pictures almost every day.  I ache to be back in that place. 

I have never begged God in the way I did in Haiti.  I have never been reduced to tears because I wanted something so badly, not for myself, but for others.  I have never seen people move the way they do in Haiti - with weight and joy and hunger and brokenness and wisdom all in one step, in one being. 

God is still teaching me - and I am still (sometimes less than enthusiastically) learning lessons, both hard and fun.  We mostly just spent time distributing clothes, supplies, carrying children, teaching English, playing games, sharing the Gospel and the Love of God.  But it was so much more than just that list.  God is continuing to show me new ways to love, to work, to share His glory, and to be refined. 

Writers Block

I can't write.  I can't write anything.  I can't write poetry, even bad poetry (although I'm not sure any of my poetry is anything other than bad...), I can't write stories, I can't journal, I can't even write about not being able to write. 

Seriously, that one sentence took me about 10 minutes and 35 tries to even get that out.  

I'm not sure why.  I get writers block often, but normally only in regards to one aspect of my writing.  Not everything.  This is incredibly rare.  It's weird for me - I have all these things that I normally process by writing, and I just can't.  I'm felling a bit.... overwhelmed, I guess.  I currently have about 4 journal entries that are incomplete, and 3 drafts on this blog that are started and not finished.   Try as I might, I can't.  And trust me, I've tried.  

So here I am.  I have writers block.  Bigtime.  And I need it to go away, fast.  I was hoping this blog post might lead me to something, to some sort of deeper conclusion, to some sort of magical and mighty and enlightening thought, that as I wrote it would just magically disappear (as if that was how the world worked....).  But there's nothing.  There's just writer's block.  And this freakin' ginormous screen staring back at me with nothing to say.  The TV is on in the background, my fingers move over the letter keys, and then over the delete key just as frequently.  

Sometimes, we just have to sit with suffering... 

Apologetics and Ritual Boredom

I recently have been on an apologetics/research hunt.  It's been really fun, and I've been learning a lot.  I am reading just about every Theology textbook I can get my hands on (thanks M., for your generous donation to my intellectual and spiritual growth!), and doing a lot of research online.  During this hunt, I found a website dedicated to the book Pagan Christianity, by Frank Viola and George Barna.  It was then that I stumbled upon this quote regarding church, and why Viola, who used to be a pastor, left the institutional church. 

"Thus for me, if a ritual becomes boring, it simply means that it lacks life and should be changed so that God’s people can re-connect with their risen Lord who is anything but boring"

For a split second, I thought why yes, that sounds exactly right!  If God is not boring, then all things relating to God should not be boring, so this makes sense!  Then I paused for a moment to consider the thought more carefully, and discovered something -- it is this attitude which is actually destroying local church, rather than building it up. 

What's tricky about this premise is that the underlying assumption is actually completely correct.  God is not a boring, small, timid or simple God.  He is Big, and Powerful, and complex beyond our wildest imagination.  God is, in all senses of the word, awesome and wonderful. 

The problem comes when we shift that boredom from the Character of God, to our own emotions and moods regarding God.  God is never boring, but we as humans are often bored with God.  It is a problem, a genuine display of how broken and fundamentally backwards we are as humans.  When we attribute our own boredom to the rituals associated with God, and claim that it is the rituals which have failed and not us, we are in essence placing ourselves above the divine ordination of God, and above our own sin.  Not only is this a dangerous denial of our own essence and God's divine providence, but it is this very attitude which I think has led to so many problems within the church. 

We are designed to need God, not the other way around.  God has absolutely no need of us, not even of our worship and praise.  We are not giving God anything He doesn't already have when we do these things.  Those rituals are given for our benefit, not God's. Perhaps boredom then ought to be interpreted as a warning sign that something is not right in our hearts, that we are struggling with a deeper sin issue than we perhaps realize.  When we become bored in church, it is perhaps a warning sign that the church is failing.  But more likely, it is a sign that your heart is failing.  Most likely, the church is still the same church it was when you first joined, it is still healthy and preaching the word and living in genuine and sanctifying community (if, of course, that is actually what it was before).  It is you that have changed, not everyone else. 

Obviously, there are some rituals which are not Biblical, and are entirely man-made.  Regarding these rituals, it is perhaps fair to say that a few of those which are "boring" are not useful, even if they were in the past.  But even that is dangerous.  The mindset framed in the above quote is what leads people to look for churches under the "what I like" premise.  This is when people look for churches based on what they are comfortable with, what "suits them", what they agree with, what churches just "aren't for me".  But God is for you!  All churches are flawed - they are composed of humans.  But this does not mean that there are not good things.  Yes, some churches are healthy, some are surviving, and some are dead.  But not all healthy churches look the same!  Church ought to challenge you, to ask you to grow together and walk together, it should be uncomfortable sometimes.  Similarly, if I get bored doing my quiet time in the mornings, I know that rather than abandoning that practice, I must begin to pray through that ritual, to seek truth and desire - because I know that despite my boredom, the truth is that God commands us to be in his Word constantly.  Boredom is not something that ought to succumbed to, but rather something that must be overwritten with Truth. 
(Here's the link to the q&a page with Viola, if you're interested)  http://www.paganchristianity.org/answers.php