Remembering Haiti

So I saw a woman yesterday.  She was on the metro escalator.  I was in a rush, and I almost missed her in that dingy cement hole, the one that sends reverberating conversation up and down until it becomes indistinguishable from the rush of wind or the roar of the train.  I had to look down, to make sure my racing feet didn't stumble over the awkward metro escalators, or someone's bag, or more likely, my own shoes.  But I did a double take for her.

Her floral dress was simple - old lady-ish, if I may say.  It looked almost like it was taken right out of my grandmother's closet in the 60's.  A tad dirty.  Her hair, short, was greying.  She was carrying a large bag, one that seemed cumbersome and heavy, difficult to get onto the 'up' escalator.  Her body, beleaguered with age, moved at a pace that stands out in this city, and in a way that seemed stiff - as if her whole body were groaning for some rest, and perhaps some new cartilage in her joints, too.   But there was something else - her face.  Her face, it reminded me of someone.

And that was when it went from a double-take to a triple-take, to an awkward half-gaping stare across the metro escalators.  From only about halfway down the escalator, I watched her travel up on the other side until the end of my down escalator forced me off, and my attention forward.

She looked like Justine.  Justine from Haiti.  From a world and a half away, this woman could have been her twin sister - even moving and dressing like her.  And my worlds felt like they were colliding, and then crumbling.

I have done a terrible job of being a friend to Haiti.  From my comfortable bed, and my air-conditioned apartment, and my desk piled high with textbooks and essay outlines, forgetting became the simplest solution.  If I don't think about it, I don't have to pray for them.  I don't have to love them.  I don't have to be a steward of my time and experience, to talk about them or to think of them, or to send them encouragement.  I can just forget.

But the truth is, I can't and shouldn't forget, at least not completely, and the Lord uses moments like this to check me.  That place, those people - they own part of my heart and my soul.  Much as I may try to push those memories down, to separate that part of my experience from everyday life, I can't.  Moments like this come crashing down on me not just because I am realizing that I have forgotten - it's a minor identity crisis to realize how much something has affected you, and in ways you did not realize, and in ways you were ignoring.  I left part of my heart there, and I took part of theirs with me.  Not just a dead part, a past part, but a living, beating, breathing, active part of my soul.   A part of my soul that tugs, that cries out desperately for prayers, for help, for love and for devotion.  So sometimes, re-remembering something you have deliberately forgotten is painful.  But it is also beautiful.  And so I will seek to remember, and to be shaped by those people.

The Power of God

One of my professors recently accused me (as a collective part of the class, but I'll admit, it applied to me directly) of being un-educated about the world - insulated by my elite status, economic privilege, and American identity, he said we were not well-travelled or well-read, nor did we demostrate comprehensive (much less exceptional) knowledge of the global community.  Nobody in the room had ever travelled to a country which had US sanctions against it.  Nobody in the room could name the capital of Cote d'Ivoire, or the famous leader of the Ogoni people who was executed by the Nigerian government in 1995.  Nobody could adequately explain US actions against Cuba during the Cold War, or against Iraq during the First Gulf War.** 

And it's true.  While I have travelled some, and I know where on the continent of Africa Cote d'Ivoire is and have a basic understanding of Ogoniland, Cuba, the Cold War, and late 20th century US foreign policy, I couldn't answer any of these questions accurately or in great detail.

And that got me to thinking - he's got a point.  Why don't I know more?  There are people all over the world right now who are probably watching the debates leading up to the US presidential elections, but I couldn't even tell you more than a couple state leaders, much less when they were elected (or took power), who they ran against (or killed), or what their platforms are (or who they hate).  I probably can't even tell you what form of government they have.  In a globalized society, especially as someone who wants to work overseas, isn't this an important thing for me to cultivate?  Shouldn't I be able to discuss these things?

One of the things he said was about making time to watch things like 60 minutes, read the news beyond the front page, and explore other parts of the world.  And then that got me to thinking - yea, right, in all my spare time, let me just pop on the news and take time to know the companies that own other companies that own other companies that are in bed with politicians that are making policy with other politicians that are threatening agriculture in America, and thus determine where I should or shouldn't buy things.  Because that's what I have time for. 

He's right though, if I wanted to make time for it, I could.  I could learn that.

But I started thinking about what I do use my time for, and it looks something like this: get adequate sleep, have good quiet time with God every day, have time to make food for yourself, serve your roomates,  get all your schoolwork done, serve your church body, engage with your city, relax and spend time doing things you enjoy, get out of the city and slow down, get to know people well so that you can love them well, encourage them, speak truth to them, let them speak truth to you, laugh hard, love fiercely, make time to maintain relationships across many miles.... the list goes on.  And I started thinking about what would get cut out to make me a "good world citizen".  And the first thing to go would be my sleep.  And then my time with God.  And then my relationships.  And then my sanity.  And none of those I'm willing to sacrifice.

So you're right, Professor.  I'm a lousy "world citizen".  I'm a lousy International Development student.  I'm a lousy AU student.  I can't name capitals or policies or historic events or politicians.  I can't explain globalization, I can't discuss the US hegemony and it's consequences, and I don't understand the implications of our business ties to other countries.  I don't know a detailed history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I don't know the nuances of US foreign alliances, or the politics of the UN.  So you probably shouldn't elect me as president.  But if you asked me to name all the members of my church, I bet I could do it.  If you asked me to tell you about my friends - what they're struggling with, what they're loving, the way they talk, the things God has brought them through, the things they're interested in, the books they're reading, the things God is teaching them now - I could do it.  If you asked me to tell you about how profoundly my own life has been affected by my brothers and sisters in Christ, you'd have me talking for hours.  If you wanted to know the names and some of the stories of the homeless people who live in my 'hood, I could tell you.  If you asked me to tell you what I desire to see from the Church, what my theology is on globalization, and what my role in that is, I could tell you.  If you asked me to tell you about the glories of God - you'd be amazed at how much I know. 

In this city, it's easy to get caught up in what you don't know, and what you should know.  It's easy to find identity and power in being the supreme authority in the room on some global subject matter.  I've fallen into that trap plenty of times myself.  In one of the most powerful cities in the world, surrounded by powerful people, I have to remind myself what true power is.  These people are only politicians and policy-makers by the will of God.  They only have their position because God has deemed it fit for this time and these people.  But I have the holy, perfect, overwhelming love of God - I have His spirit, the same spirit that raised Christ from the dead, the same spirit that raised me from death, into life - and I am to steward that with the gifts He has given me.  And He has given me people. 

So yes, I am insulated in ignorance simply by my relative position in the world.  And yes, I probably ought to know more about the world I live in.  But I would not spend one drop less of time glorifying God and loving people for all the knowledge in the world.  I might be a crappy "world citizen", but that's not what I'm called to be.  I'm called to be a disciple - a little imitation of Christ - and so that's what I'll strive for. 



~~~~~
** For those of you who are curious like me and wondering, here are the (short) answers:
~Cote d'Ivoire's capital is Yamoussoukro;
~The president of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP) executed in 1995 was Kenule "Ken" Beeson Saro Wiwa;
~The US sanctions against Cuba were initiated because Cuba nationalized all business, and expropriated that land owned by US businesses to the state;
~The sanctions against Iraq during the 1990-1991 period were initiated because Iraq invaded Kuwait and annexed and re-appropriated oil drilling on which the US was dependent.  So there you have it. 

Perpetual Chaos and Beautiful People

When I planned out this summer, it didn't sound quite so overwhelming.  Granted, I didn't really plan half of what happened, and the other half I didn't really think about.  It sounded like an epic adventure that I'd read about from some well-travelled author, or something that would go on my bucket list but never be achieved.

Let's just call it what it is: I'm a nomad, by nature. I'm someone who doesn't really settle in, who doesn't nest, and who has spent the better part of her adult life running away from roots rather than putting them down.  It's something God is working on in my heart.

But this summer, He graciously allowed me to indulge my desires to run rampant around this beautiful globe and play like a kid in a sandbox!  Not only did He allow it, but He actively orchestrated it without me even realizing it was happening!  And what a joy it was to see His work being actively and wholeheartedly pursued around the globe, in ways I never thought I'd get to see.  My God is up to something in the hearts of so many people, He is working mightily in so many places - and everywhere, He is the same! I have been reminded of how incredibly, faithfully consistent my God is.  His hesed love, his covenant with his people - how it is being worked out everywhere in this world!

Only now, nearly 2 months after returning from my latest trip, am I finally able to step back and look at the last 5 months as a whole.  I spent so much time getting ready to travel or processing each trip, that I wasn't able to step back and see the whole thing until recently.  I traveled from the West to East coast of this country (~3200 miles and 12 states), to 2 countries in the Caribbean and one in Central Asia.  Everywhere I went, I saw the beauty of God's character, the majesty of His work, and the love of His people manifested in new and bright and breathtaking ways.   I'm so thankful for the brothers and sisters who prayed relentlessly for each trip, for the the family who funded much of it, for the friends who were able to accompany me, and the new friendships formed.

Now, it's all catching up with me.  The exhaustion.  The processing.  The sitting still.  The Lord has taken this season of indulgence and used it to bring me into a season of challenges.   It's just one of those times when I have to fight for everything.  I am mourning, learning, re-evaluating, seeing sins, and learning about service.  It's a hard season.  But a good one.  It is a season of complete and utter dependence on the Lord of creation. 

This is a season I could not survive, however, without my dear brothers and sisters in Christ.  The ways God is working on my heart are profound and beautiful - I am learning to trust people, to open up to people, to love and serve those around me, and to be loved and served.  I am more thankful than ever that the Lord has redeemed not only me as an individual, but his whole Bride.  I could not persevere through this without their support and love.  

And I am abundantly thankful that He knows my heart so well, that he could orchestrate such a wonderfully delightful summer, and simultaneously give me the best and most supportive church family to come home to. 

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.

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.

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.

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

Short Films and Slam Poetry

One of the best short films I've ever seen.  I might be a little bit in love with TJ Thyne now... 

Seriously.  Watch.  Smile.  Be Inspired.  :) 

Slam Poetry from an Awesome Christian guy about Toms and Life.... 

On Being Vegan (Days 1 and 2)

So I've officially been vegan for 2 days. 

Well, sort of.  I spent all of yesterday being vegan, but I was also detoxing, so I wasn't actually eating anything...  That was hard for it's own reasons - mostly that I would walk past a restaurant and smell food that I know is delicious, and not be able to eat it.  But I feel clean and healthy after 3 days of detoxing, so... all's well that ends well. 

So far, being vegan actually hasn't been that hard.  The cravings for dairy and bacon haven't set in yet.  I'll admit, it's weird to open the fridge and not be able to drink milk.  It's strange when I think about the fact that I may never eat a hamburger again, or chicken picatta (which does make my heart shrivel a little bit...), and to walk through a grocery store or look at a restaurant menu and realize how much there is that I can't eat anymore.  When I think about it, I've found that it's really easy to get caught up in all the No's, all the things that I can't eat anymore.  But if there's anything I learned from Coach, its that the way you think about things really does make a difference (thanks, friend!).  So I'm trying not to focus on that.  I'm trying to focus on how thankful I am that I can afford to be vegan - both financially and simply in terms of the fact that I have food readily available at hundreds of different sources nearby.  

Even over the last 2 days, I'm feeling more blessed and healthy than ever.  Praise be to God.

Food, Inc.

Yes, I know it's a liberal film that doesn't quite tell the whole story. 

But still.  I saw the movie today for the second time in my Human Geography class.  And something occurred to me.  The first time I saw it, I don't really think it sunk in (which might've had something to do with who I was watching it with....). ;)  But in all seriousness, now that I've decided to be vegan (at least for a short while), my decision is being reinforced by things like that.

If you've never seen the movie, you should.  Even if you're not a proponent of animal rights, you still should know what you're eating and where it comes from.  Let's be honest - we ought to know what we're putting in our bodies, but we don't anymore.  It's a well-done movie that, although slightly biased, says a lot of important things.  And after watching it again today, I wouldn't be surprised if I just stayed Vegan.  I've recently become incredibly convicted about being a responsible consumer - environmentally, personally, geographically, socially... in every way possible.  In the food I buy, in the companies I actively or passively support, in the clothes I wear, in the things I say and do... I think it's so important to understand the consequences of our actions.

But what, you ask, can one individual possibly do about issues like global child labor?!  Yes, it's daunting.  I'll be the first to admit that.  I'm often overwhelmed by it, actually.  It's a constant struggle for me to remember that I am not God and that I can only do so much.  But I recently read an article for my Moral Philosophy class that suggested that cruelty persists because people still believe that individuals cannot make a difference.  And so I will, as an individual, stand up and do my part.  It will be small.  But you say, if I don't buy it/eat it/do it, certainly someone else will, right?!  Wrong!  What if 1 million of the 300 million people we have living in the United States decided to stop buying clothes that were made in sweatshops?  That could mean that those 1,000,000 people live in 1,000,000 different communities around the country, who have never met one another and who will never meet one another, and maybe they are even the ONLY people in their communities to do such a thing.  Does that mean that those 1,000,000 people aren't making a difference just because they FEEL isolated?  No!  Being alone in something should not prevent you from standing up for something you know is right - in fact, it should invigorate you!  This is what I seek to do - not just with this, but with every aspect of my life. 

So don't be surprised if I stay vegan.  Because right now, to me, it looks like there are a lot of good reasons for being vegan, and only 3 good reasons for not being vegan:  meat tastes good, laziness, and ignorance. (Ask me again in a month, I might have changed my tune... ;))

Loving Spring

For those of you who don’t have or don’t check facebook, here’s my status: (Yea, mom, this is for you.)

*I’m currently sitting the steps of the Lincoln Memorial working on some homework.*

Yes, that’s right, I live in one of the coolest places ever.  :)

The last 3 days here have been absolutely and fantastically gorgeous, and I’m starting to remember that Spring may in fact be my favorite season (ask me again in June though and I might have a different answer).  Except for the wind.  That part is making me absolutely crazy.  But it’s been phenomenally gorgeous, people have been out, and despite the fact that I am (as always) behind on school work due to procrastination, not entirely sure what the next year of my life looks like (that’s an understatement), and wishing desperately that DC had some mountains nearby (quick shout-out to Colorado!), I’m so incredibly happy.  I didn’t know I could be this happy.  (ok, I did, but it still feels really good.)  It’s not often that I let myself be this genuinely and completely happy.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m good here.  I love it, and I’m mostly happy, but my brain is always running and there’s always that issue (or issues) nagging in the back of my brain.  That’s not a bad thing - I need people and issues and life ot keep me grounded sometimes – but sometimes I also need to let myself go.  I need to just rest in the complete and fantastic goodness of God. Which is what I’m doing right now. 

A couple weeks ago at church, we talked about the passage in Mark where Jesus feeds 5,000 (yep, that famous story with the loaves and the fish).   I love that story, and I love that story even more ever since hearing my pastor preach about it (I pretty much have the coolest church ever).  But one of the things he said that really struck me was that the beginning of the story is Jesus calling for rest and retreat, EVEN WHEN THERE WAS STILL WORK TO BE DONE.  He was going to take the disciples away for some rest and time alone in fellowship, even when there were people still hungry for his teachings.  Amazing!  I need to be reminded of that more often. 

The story gets better.  Mark says that Jesus was sailing along in his boat seeking said rest, when he saw the people running after him, starving for him.  Desperately seeking him.  And it says that he “had compassion for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd.” (Mark 6:34) And Jesus, even in his seeking rest, allowed the Lord to work and to teach to multitudes of people!  I need to remember this too.  That even in my busy, scheduled day, I need to allow God to work in me and through me.  Even when I’m seeking rest.  And even when I’m doing schoolwork.  And even when I’m hanging out with friends. 

Goodness I have a lot to learn. 

But right now, I’m simply enjoying spending time reveling in the Glory and Greatness of My Creator.  He is beautiful and He is good and He is faithful.  And that, simply put, is enough. 

Now, back to homework and enjoying the beautiful day.  :)

On the Nature of [Wo]Man (as [s]He Writes Essays and Watches TV)

 For my moral philosophy class, we have to write an essay on morality (go figure).  It's on the movie Crimes and Misdemeanors, and we have been challenged to decide whether the main character, Judah, behaves in a moral way or not.  (For those of you who haven't seen the movie, the main character Judah hires a hit-man to kill his mistress to cover up the affair and the knowledge she has of his embezzlement of money in his company, and is never caught for the act.  The murder is instead pinned on a homeless man who was arrested for other break-ins and subsequent murders in the area.  After all, "what's one more murder on his record?").  Furthermore, we must also decide if he is a moral person.  It's a challenging subject, not because I don't know what I think about the subject, but because I don't know how to articulate it in an academically acceptable way (especially on this campus). 

As a Christian, my view of morality, of right and wrong, is entirely dependent on God.  It wasn't always that way - I used to be a moral relativist (if you're interested, see some of my oldest posts...).  I still occasionally find myself sympathizing with relativism and the ideas associated with it, especially when I'm confronted with a situation like this one.  I believe firmly, with every ounce of my heart and soul and head, that God exists.  I believe that there is an absolute moral right and wrong.  But I don't know how to academically, philosophically prove that.  So I'm stuck in this conundrum - I believe what I believe, but on a philosophical level I have no idea how to prove it. 

In the process of trying to decide how to appropriately articulate myself, I decided to take a little brain-break, and watch some TV.  I've heard from a few people recently about this TV show (sort of set up like Candid Camera, if anybody remembers that show), called "What Would You Do?".  It basically sets up awkward situations in real life with hidden cameras and actors, to examine how people react.  Some of their set-ups include a waiter harassing a gay couple with children, a racist store manager asking a black woman to leave an up-scale NYC store because she "can't trust people like [her]", and placing a (fake) baby inside a closed up car on a hot summer day on the street with a recording of crying noises.  They set up hidden cameras to view the situation, and afterward often talk to people about why they reacted (or didn't react) the way they did. 

It occurred to me while watching this that people who stand up for the "right thing" are often angry and upset during a confrontation, and relieved when they discover that it's actually a set-up.  On the other hand, the people who don't react (but who noticed the situation) are almost always ashamed, apologetic, and make "politically correct" excuses.  It occurs to me that even with touchy subjects such as racism and gay couples, most people are simply afraid of standing up for what they know is the right thing.  Some people even flip-flopped on the subjects - when talking to other customers or the people who are perpetuating these acts, they agree (or at the very least acquiesce) to their point of view.  But as soon as they find out it's a set up, they immediately correct their position and proclaim how wrong it is. 

All this brings me to think that somewhere, deep down, everybody knows what is right and wrong.  Everybody knows, even beyond cultural norms, but to the depths of humanity what is right and wrong. 

So now I think I'll re-approach my essay with this in mind.  With a sense of community in mind, as well as the understanding that I can, just maybe, articulate the depth of my convictions given the right tools and mindset. 

My Future Husband Had Better Have A Big Family

So I went to Minnesota this year for Thanksgiving - it's where my Dad is from and where most of his side of the family still lives.  Since my Mom got to keep her job (YAY!), we decided we could take a mini-vacation.  At first, I was excited - I didn't think I was going to get to see my family for Thanksgiving, so I was happy that they had invited me to go with them.  But that lasted for about a split second. 


Then I had this thought.  It went something like this - We never travel for Thanksgiving.  We always stay home.  We always have people over.  I don't like traveling around the holidays, it's too busy and chaotic.  I'd rather just stay home.  Why did we have to go to Minnesota, why couldn't we have just stayed home?  That sort of put a damper on my Thanksgiving.  I wasn't that excited about it.  :/

But then I went.  And I sat in my grandparent's basement with 20 other people around and I suddenly had this flood of memories - memories that I'd somehow forgotten, but suddenly remembered. Memories of traveling to my grandparents house for Christmas.  Good memories.  Really good memories.  I almost cried - how had I forgotten?  How could I have forgotten making cake with my grandmother, hanging some awkward glittery putty-like substance on the window in the shape of snowmen and stars and snowflakes (there's a good chance my grandfather invented this putty-stuff), Opening presents, playing in the snow with my little cousins, remembering my uncle bring home his new wife and me meeting her for the first time - the wife who, years later, stands in the basement pregnant?

My dad's family is sort of odd - everybody has their quirks, for sure.  Almost everybody is introverted, but somehow you put us all together and we are LOUD!  Kids run around everywhere, adults talk and cook, clean up messes and laugh.  We have our issues, sure, but I'm so blessed.  It's a crazy family, but good crazy.  Not crazy as in grandma won't talk to son 4 because he married a girl she doesn't like and cousin 12 picks on cousin 4 and uncle 2 isn't ever around because he's in and out of jail and nobody's spoken to him in twelve years.  Not that crazy.  Crazy as in it's almost an entire family of engineers, and if they're not engineers, they're damn smart.  Crazy as in everybody has strong personalities, and we're a stubborn family who is always going going going, crazy as in we eat a ton of food, and we're perfectionists, and babies are a treasure and always get all the attention.  Crazy as in we do things like set up dominos (not play dominos, no, we set them up to go tumbling down like one of those fun videos) even though we're not very good and it takes like 5 tries to get one good run in, and then somebody has forgotten to push the record button on the camera and suddenly we have to do it all over again.  Crazy as in we play board games instead of watching the tv and then get competitive but in a good way and stay up til midnight playing games.  Crazy as in there's just people, everywhere, all the time, and everybody sits on top of everybody else and talks to everybody and it takes 30 minutes to get one good family picture, because there are 4 amateur photographers who are all trying to get their best portraits ever.  Crazy as in all the cousins grew up watching the River Dance VHS, to the point where the tape got so worn out that it doesn't work anymore.  Crazy as in in the middle of a get together my uncle will suddenly jump up and run downstairs and come back a minute later with his entire library of old LP's and his turntable and we spend an hour going through them, and singing along to things like Elvis and John Denver and U2 and Neil Diamond and even the kids know some of the songs.  Just crazy.

And somehow this year I finally got it - my family.  I get why everybody says they're thankful for their family.  Because they're who you really need.  They're the ones. For the first time ever, I got it.  And I can't even begin to express how much I love my family.  And, how much I love having a big family. 

So, Mr. Right.... I hope you have a lot of siblings.  Because otherwise we might have an issue....

(If not, Lauren and James, you're going to have to make up the difference.  That means like at least 5 kids each.)

Black Smoke

So we did some meditation in my sociology class today.  It was interesting - I've always been intrigued by meditation, and have always thought it might be something good for me.

We spent some time stopping and just breathing, pausing for a moment to clear the chatter from our heads.  I think that's something I need to do more often, especially when it seems like I can't pray, like I can't hear God above all the noise and distractions.  Then we did some meditation to help tap into our compassion center.  We looked around at people and wished that each of them might be happy, heathy, and at ease.  That excersize was easy - ok, I shouldn't say easy, but not extremely difficult.  I try to always be aware of other people's needs, and to be aware of any malicious thoughts or judgements I might have, even toward strangers.

The last part was that we sat and imagined ourselves sitting across from people, and imagined taking on their troubles and burdens.  We did this by imagining us breathing in dark smoke and breathing out light smoke. When my professor explained what the last part of our meditation was going to be I almost laughed out loud.  I thought to myself, if I take on any more burdens, I am literally going to die or implode.  She went on to explain that she wanted us to imagine doing it with someone we loved, someone we felt neutrally about, and someone we really didn't like.  I could barely contain myself at this point.  I thought, there is no freakin' way.  There is absolutely no way.  This is so not something I need help with.  I kept thinking along those lines for another split second and then realized something.  I can't do this.  I can't take on other people's burdens.  I don't have the strength or the endurance or the wisdom. I actually, truly, literally, can't do this.  But God can.  And I need his strength to continue to take on others problems, and to relieve them of it.  I have to change my mentality; I cannot rely on myself.  I must do this through Him.  Without it I am nothing - I am dead.

Why Harry Potter Could Be Good For Christians

I HAVE MIDNIGHT PREMIER TICKETS TO THE NEW HARRY POTTER!! It comes out Thursday night, and I'm pretty much super excited about this.  Like really super excited.  So excited, in fact, that I've rented the fourth and fifth ones (the sixth is mysteriously unavailable...) to watch again before Thursday.  :)

In re-watching the 5th movie (for those who can't remember, it's the one with the Department of Mysteries and the weird connection between Voldemort and Harry), I stumbled upon an interesting realization - Dumbledore, in many ways, exemplifies many characteristics of a quintessential Christian life (minus, obviously, the Jesus part.  Which I suppose undermines "quintessential", but... well, I'll just explain.)  I don't think anyone could argue that Dumbledore is a weak figure. To the contrary, he is one of the strongest people through the series - both in terms of the magic he is able to perform and in the steadfastness of his character. Throughout the novels, he displays a gentle strength unlike anyone else.  His ability to stand up for what he knows is right, and yet also simultaneously display love and respect, even toward those he disagrees with (and towards those who are violent toward him or hurt him), is astounding.  He is never passive, he doesn't simply hope that something will be done, or that someone else will object to what is wrong, but he always seems to take the right course of action. He almost always listens before he speaks, he displays genuine affection for the kids he works with, and the other teachers.  He embraces change knowing that he will adapt, and remain steady in his knowledge of good and evil.  He is humble enough to recognize his weakness (which I'm hoping is something that will be particularly evident in the 6th and 7th movies, as it played such a prominent role in the books), and to ask for help when needed without imposing on others for help when he does not.  In many ways, he lives out the characteristics of a Christian life, lacking only the direction of God. 

I wish there weren't such a vehement outcry by the conservative Christian community against Harry Potter - they truly are well written stories with incredible characters.  Perhaps, in moderation and with the right mindset, Dumbledore could be a wonderful example for many Christians, myself included. 

The Dichotomy of Being

I've always had a hard time sharing my testimony.  Actually, I take it back.  Since my testimony is about 6 months old, it hasn't been "always".  But pretty much since it happened.  Even in the thick of it, I hated telling the story.  I hate the attention - I'd almost always rather listen to somebody else talk about themselves.  I hate how vulnerable I feel.  I hate how whiny and privileged it makes me feel.  I hate re-hashing that pain that led to such beauty.  I really truly hate everything that story represents about me.  But mostly, I hate the attention it draws to me.  I love telling the second half of the story - the part about me loving Jesus.  But the part that led to that is the part I hate.  So mostly, I tell people what is pertinent to any given conversation, and avoid the parts I don't like. 

But, in the last 2 weeks I've shared part/all of my testimony 3 times to 3 different people (which, by the way, has been more emotionally taxing than one might expect).  And all three of those people told me how encouraged they were.  How much they admired me.  And how much they appreciated my honesty.  A couple of those people, interestingly enough, also mentioned my strength... which was odd to me.  But I suppose through God, I am strong... and even though I didn't recognize it at the time, I was strong at the time, because God was in my life, even when I didn't want Him there.

God is reminding me that when I tell my story in His context, my story can be powerful and good in His name.  And if it is my mission in life to glorify Him, then perhaps I need to be more ready to share my testimony. 

Boys and Girls

So, there's this new campaign called "Fat Talk Free Week".   I think their facebook page explains pretty well what they mean:

Fat Talk describes all of the statements made in everyday conversation that reinforce the thin ideal and contribute to women’s dissatisfaction with their bodies.

Examples of fat talk include: “I’m so fat,” “Do I look fat in this?” “I need to lose 10 pounds” and “She’s too fat to be wearing that swimsuit.”

Statements that are considered fat talk don’t necessarily have to be negative; they can seem positive yet reinforce the need to be thin. E.g., “You look great! Have you lost weight?” 

It was started by a Tri Delta sorority, and is now a national campaign to spend a week without "talking fat".  I think it's a great idea! But there are people out there who don't.  They say that this promotes an unhealthy lifestyle by telling people they don't need to work out or worry about what they look like.  Firstly, I'd just like to point out that almost all the blogs, reports, and articles I've read against this type of movement are from guys:  Boys, if you don't support this, shut your damn mouth!  Either back girls behind this or get out!  I'm not saying boys don't deal with their own self esteem issues, but I'm sorry, boys, you have NO IDEA what it feels like to be a girl.  None.  At all.  So shut up.  I'm so sick of hearing about this. 

I'm learning how to work out because I love my body, not because I hate it.  I'm learning how to eat right because I love me.  I'm learning how do everything I do out of self-love rather than self-hate.  If people can learn to love their bodies, everything else will fall into place.  It's when we start hating our bodies that problems (like eating disorders - including binge eating) occur.  See, when I love my body I can say, gosh I should work out regularly.  But when I miss a day because I'm busy or sick, I can also accept that that's ok, that maybe my body needs sleep and rest right now more than it needs to burn 400 calories an hour doing an intense workout.  And I'm still leading a healthy life. 

So PUT A SOCK IN IT guys.

Here's a letter I found a while ago on the TWLOHA page, and I think it's a letter every woman should read, and then write one herself. 

Dear Body,

I’ve always let some imperfection or another stand in the way of me seeing what you truly are, that you are beautiful. You are a divine creation housing the most valuable thing known to the universe, my soul. I’m beginning to realize that a person’s soul has the capacity to radiate light that transcends all the characteristics that I have been conditioned to believe are flaws.

You naturally tell a story. Your blue-green veins are like a map to where your heart has been and where it is going. The curve of your waist and the shape of your cheekbones tell a tale of heritage and ethnicity. There are crayon markings on the wall somewhere that has measured your height throughout the years. Always returning to the same spot to see how you’ve changed.

Your eyes bare resemblance to nature. They are a deep forest green with golden yellow sunflower flecks. Your faded birthmark, once beet red, brought me shame because all I wanted was to conform. It now reminds me of how unique you are and all I want is to be different.

Your body begins as a story but continues with new chapters throughout your life. Some are chapters of sadness and pain, others of joy, and all of growth. Each chapter a blank canvas meant to be painted by our experiences. Photos are memories but so are our bodies in a way that’s more real, no posing and no fakeness.

I’m realizing these things now, but I’m so sorry that I didn’t realize them before. I’ve done everything I could to destroy the canvas and deface and burn the pages of different chapters.

I’ve waged war on you before; used razor blades to feel and drugs to numb. I’ve used caffeine to stay awake and alcohol to sleep. Abusing the side effects of my prescription drugs like loss of appetite, to deliberately starve myself into making you skinnier. I’ve spent far too much time on a scale that merely weighs your effect on gravity, not the depth of your beauty. I wanted you to look like one of those girls in the magazines.

But in the ruins there is still a canvas. There is still beauty in your brokenness. The faded scars show healing reminding me that even though I’ve been in dark places, I’ve survived and learned and become stronger.

Although the war is over, the world still takes its toll. You have calluses on your hands from me writing too much and concentrating too hard. Yet the words are beautiful and the studying is worth it. You have the ache when it rains from broken bones, and stretch marks from growing too fast. You have burns from jobs and scars from falls. But those experiences were worth it.

Dear body, as I grow older I worry about how you will age. Together we gain wisdom and wrinkles, after being young and beautiful and naïve. The wisdom tells us that the beauty doesn’t subside, it only changes, and more of it comes from within. So I won’t worry when my hair doesn’t look just right, or when I do something stupidly funny and emerge with another scar because you are telling a story. And what would I be without my story and my past?

Things I [didn't] Learn in Sunday School

The last 6 months have been absolutely indescribable for me.  For those of you who know me, you may be able to see, or hear about, some of the changes that have been going on in my life (both internal and external); and let me assure you, there have been A LOT of them.  I don't know how to describe it, or how it even happened, but suddenly I'm a completely different person.

One of the most significant things that different about me is that I have a newfound faith - something that's not entirely new, but definitely rediscovered, re-invented, redefined, and completely new from anything else in my life, ever.  And I'm discovering that I simply cannot get enough of God.  I've been going to church regularly (more than once a week, which for those of you who know me is a HUGE deal), I've been simply soaking myself in studying God's word and God's person, prayer, fellowship, meditation, and learning.  And from that, I'd like to share a few things that I've recently learned that I was never taught in 18 years of going to Sunday School:

• Acts 2:42-47 -- This is what a christian community should be about!  This is a church.
• God's material blessings to me and those around me is, in fact, a true BLESSING.  It's what we do with these blessings that matters - and God calls us to use our material blessings to help others, not shed our blessings to be with others.  There's a distinct and important difference, and it's something I struggle with. 
• Regarding Doubts:  "if you see through everything you see nothing.  The point of doubt isn't to see 'through' everything, but to see what's on the other side."
• God has blessed each of His followers with EVERY SPIRITUAL BLESSING that could be.  
• God's plan A was the church.  This was not His plan B or C or "collateral damage".  THIS is the plan. 
• Regarding Testimonies:  Most people emphasize the "how bad they were before God" part.  Shouldn't we be telling the story opposite; that is, shouldn't we be living radical, crazy lives AFTER we were transformed for Jesus?  Shouldn't that be the glorified part? The "wow" part?
• If a stranger were to walk into a church, they should look around at the people and say, "what on earth could bring every single one of these people here?  They are all so different - what could they possibly have in common?"
• Your life with God is like a bullseye, with God at the center.  People are all over, facing different directions, walking different directions, some are close to the center some are far out.  Obviously God cares about where we are in relation to Him, but more importantly, God cares which direction we are facing.  If we are in the center but facing out, looking back at where we came from, at all of the great things we've done, at all the hoops we've jumped through, we've completely missed the point.  God wants us to be facing him and walking forward, no matter where we are on the circle.  
• God has entrusted me with the Gospel, and it is my responsibility to share it. 
• We don't have to be perfect to come to God, but we do have to be ready to be perfected.
• Sometimes we grab a hold of an idea before God is done talking.  We need to let God finish His sentences.
• God wants to do something ORIGINAL in me.  Not something he's never done before -- something ORIGINAL.  As in, original to His plan.  Original to how He intended things to be.  Original - back to the origins.  
• Our spirituality is more important than our physicality.
• God often talks of His inheritance IN US.  WE are God's inheritance!
• God is BIG!!!! (This is maybe my favorite thing about God... every time it makes me fall in love all over again.)
• God calls us to do nothing to discredit His name... and that's a big task!
• Prophecy and the Bible is actually NOT up to interpretation - God had only one meaning and one purpose to His word.  (This is not to say that discussion should be squelched, or that His word isn't worth reading over again and again because there are many layers to things, but rather that each of those layers and facets to His word has only one true meaning as God intended.  It is up to us to figure out what that is.)
• This is all temporary.  The book of Revelations is my comfort many days.  

Brides and Hatred

Church Membership has been on my mind lately.  Mostly because I'm contemplating becoming and official member of a church here in DC.  I've always (ok, not always, but definitely the last 5 years) had a huge issue with organized religion.  It wasn't always that way; I grew up in the church, and I remember through 5th, 6th, 7th grade telling people that I actually enjoyed going to church.  Weird?  Maybe. A good thing?  I don't know.  Maybe - it led me to a lot of suffering, but ultimately was part of the Great Symphony.  Even after having "re-discovered" my faith, I found it hard to find myself comfortable in a church setting.... After everything I'd been through, I just wasn't entirely sure I wanted to put myself in that situation again.  For a while, I thought, "well, I believe, and that's good enough.  Some people need a church community, for some people it fosters growth, but not for me.  I don't need that.  I can just believe by myself, after all, this is between me and God, right?"  (In retrospect, that was just delusional... as an extrovert, regardless of it's biblical context or necessity, I need community.)  Once I realized that the Christian faith was not supposed to be lived out in caves by ourselves, I thought to myself - well, I have good Christian friends, I can talk to them, enjoy time with them, and that will just be my version of church, my community, I don't need a formal church to be a part of, because that only leads to problems.  I can have my own church.  And for a while, that was fine.

And so I just lived with a lot of anxiety, a lot of fear and anger and avoidance and resentment about the church built up inside me - mostly fear.   But then, spontaneously, God convicted me that church was, in fact, a good thing (I've not the slightest clue about how God was able to change my heart like that - it literally happened instantaneously, He convinced me that this was so and that I was never going to be afraid of church again.  What?!  This is a question I plan on asking when I get to heaven...).  And that it was maybe something I was going to need out here, all by myself.  And so instead of God asking me to overcome my fear, He just took it away.  Which in a way, was even scarier... But suddenly I didn't have any excuses anymore.  And so I decided that I needed to start looking for a church.

And then God put one in my lap.  It's this great place called Restoration church.  It's super close to campus, people there are wonderfully nice and welcoming, and I already feel like I'm at home there (which, I have to admit, is still a weird feeling).  And they do formal church membership, which involves a class and some other stuff.  It was weird to me at first, because even though I grew up around church, not every church has formal membership, or a formal process to become a member, and since mine didn't I really had no idea what to expect.  So I went to the class just to see what this whole thing was about.  It was interesting.  Different.  Challenging.  Open.  Thoughtfully and tactfully put together.  And during the process, we discussed the biblical foundations of church membership and the church as a whole.  It wasn't something I'd thought about (or liked the idea of, really), that God not just gives us the opportunity for, but actively demands and expects that we be part of a church...

But I was listening to a sermon yesterday about the church, and the pastor discussed the church in the context of 3 analogies commonly used in the New Testament - the family, the body, and the bride.  At the very end of the sermon, in discussing us as Christ's bride, he used the analogy of someone walking up to him and saying, "Gosh, J.  I really like you, you're so funny and smart - I really hate your wife, D. - but you're just so awesome!"  I wasn't following until he equated it to us saying, "God, I love you but I hate your bride."... ouch!  I'd never thought about it that way before.  And it then occurred to me that Paul's analogy to the body of Christ is similar - a Hand cannot expect to survive alone... it can't even survive if it's near a body, or occasionally interacts with an Eye and a Toe... but rather it must be attached to an entire body to even be alive, much less thrive and be active.  The hand can be cut off to preserve the body, but the body cannot be cut off to preserve the hand.

So I don't know if i will officially be a member of Restoration or not - I'm still praying about that one.  But I am more convinced than ever that the church, although flawed, is essential.  Body, here I come!