Our Generation

The Eleventh Hour.

2010-02-23T20:26:00.000-05:00

24 hours until my plane takes off for Kenya, Africa. I don't know what to think. I don't even know if I can think right now. I am really, truly going to Africa! Me. Africa. Tomorrow. Eeee!

I wonder when it will ever sink in.

One year and nine days ago, someone asked me, "Have you ever thought about going to Africa?" And it completely caught me off guard. I gulped and said, "Um, no....not really?" Her immediate response was, "Well, you should think about it! I know about this orphanage that...."

The seed was planted.

I spent a great deal of 2009 thinking about going to Africa. I spent the last two months planning for it. And tomorrow, by God's grace, I'm flying halfway around the world to live at the orphanage there in Kinangop. I don't know what the Lord is going to do through me there, but I am excited for whatever it is. He is a big God -- bigger than I know, and His imagination is infinitely greater than mine.

Right now, I feel a little like Sam must have felt in The Fellowship of the Ring, as he paused on the very edge of the Shire to look out at the great unknown sprawling before him. When Frodo asked him why he hesitated, he said, "If I take one more step, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been."

I think I understand, now, what he meant. This will be the farthest away from home I've ever been too. And this one small step is, maybe, the biggest one I'll ever take.

Am I scared? A little. Do I feel adequately prepared to face everything that might lie in the days ahead? No. But, like the very last verse of Psalm 108 says, "Through our God we shall do valiantly!" It's not going to be me working on my own strength. It's going to be Him, working through me. I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.

He is so faithful.

And I'm really going to Africa.

I Fit Inside My Suitcase.

2010-02-12T00:18:00.001-05:00

I'm leaving for Kenya in just 12 days! I can't believe it! My plane flies out exactly one year and ten days (almost to the minute!) after I first heard about the opportunity. How's that for a fabulous, God-ordained coincidence??

I have all of my luggage now. Besides my carry-on allowances, I am now the proud owner of a big, red Samsonite suitcase and two MASSIVE black duffel bags. I can comfortably curl up inside any of them -- that's how big they are! (Or....how small I am. I don't know.)

Buying them was fairly painless. (Key word being "fairly".) But packing? Not so much. I'm going to be relying heavily on the bathroom scale when it comes to making sure I don't exceed the airline's weight restrictions. It's going to be hard. At this point, my packing list alone could probably fill the first suitcase!

For real, when I first saw the weight restrictions, I wished for an Undetectable Extension charm on all three suitcases, but then realized the weight would stay the same.... (Or wouldn't it? Muggle, muggle head.)

But all magic aside, I think I came up with a reasonable method for weighing my bags beforehand:

1. Weigh self on bathroom scale.
2. Take note of weight.
3. Weigh self on bathroom scale again -- with suitcase/duffel in hand.
4. Subtract current reading from previous reading.
5. Unload suitcase and repack, leaving "most expendable" items aside.
6. Repeat.

Oh and P.S. The words "most expendable" being written in conjunction with my stuff....give me a great big knot in my stomach. Just so you know. (Note to self: work on this.)

But hey. I'm going to Kenya!! In two weeks!! Sheesh, I'd probably travel in a suitcase if I had to!

(Oh, but wait. I would exceed the weight limit. Bleh.)

Commercial Break.

2010-01-26T23:19:00.000-05:00

Well, I decided to take a quick commercial break from my "Forgiveness" posts to give an update on my plans for Kenya. For one thing, last night I dreamed about my trip to the airport. It was....enlightening. (In a bad way.)

Turns out I forgot to fill my prescriptions beforehand -- boarded the plane with a handful of Rx papers and a hopeful heart instead. Then I forgot my laptop case and was busy asking if I could get through security with a carry-on, plus a bare laptop. As you can imagine, they were pretty impressed by me.

Oh yes, and then that little issue of bringing my passport along. (And P.S. Is it really necessary to wear shoes in an airport?)

When I woke up, I started making a master list of everything -- and I do mean EVERYTHING -- I need to take (down to chapstick, an extra pillowcase, and a list of important phone numbers) so my dream (er, nightmare) doesn't become a reality.

I can take three pieces of luggage, total. I'll be gone for two months. Each bag has a separate (and declining) weight limit, so I'm looking for the largest, yet lightest duffel bags possible. (On that note, does anybody have any traveling/flying suggestions for me? I've never exactly done this before -- besides in my dream and that just proved I need some serious help!)

Also, I've been trying to think of a practical, but cute gift for the kids at the orphanage. Something small (and preferably lightweight -- ahem). A couple days ago, I was working on my own packing list when I got it (or at least, I think I did). Headscarves! (Or bandannas -- whatever you'd like to call them.) I'm taking several of my own to wear while I'm there (seems practical to keep my hair tied back and protected while I'm working in the gardens, etc.) and I think the kids would really enjoy having some too.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I'm going to work on buying some, sewing some, and recruiting a few other people to do the same. The scarves will be in all different colors and varieties. Does this sound like a brilliant idea or a brilliantly stupid idea? They all spend a great deal of time outdoors, so it seems like a winner.

Sounding board?

The Hardest Words To Say.

2010-01-25T13:15:00.002-05:00

You’re doing the right thing. A sacrificial thing. Saving innocent lives. Putting yourself in danger for it. And suddenly, your sacrifice becomes enough evidence to convict you to a concentration camp. While there, you watch your sister weaken and eventually die. When you are finally freed, you learn that your father also passed away and that you are the only surviving family member.

”Forgiving Others” begins with a reference to the life of Corrie ten Boom. Two years after Corrie was released from the concentration camp, she spoke at a church in Munich. The message she brought was on God’s forgiveness.

After she left the stage, a man approached her. “You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk. I was a guard there,” he said. “But since that time I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Will you forgive me?”

Corrie stared at his extended hand. The minutes ticked by as she wrestled with the most difficult decision she’d ever had to face. How could she possibly forgive him?

In order to do it—and really mean it from the bottom of her heart—she would have to understand the true meaning of forgiveness. And what exactly is that?

Forgiveness is the dismissing of a debt.

In the New Testament, the Greek noun aphesis denotes a “dismissal” or “release”. So….

--When you grant forgiveness, you dismiss the debt owed to you.

--When you grant forgiveness, you dismiss the debt from your thoughts.

Forgiveness is dismissing your demand that others owe you something. Especially when….

--They fail to meet your expectations.

--They fail to keep a promise.

--They fail to treat you justly.

Forgiveness is dismissing, canceling, or setting someone free from the consequences of falling short of God’s standard.

--The standard of God is perfection, yet we all have sinned.

--The penalty for our sin is spiritual death.

--That penalty for our sin (our debt) was paid by Jesus through His sacrificial death on the cross.

Corrie had a huge task before her. Was it possible to speak those three words—“I forgive you”—and turn to walk away, knowing it was the truth?

Her question is also mine. But in the back of my mind—and hers, we already know the answer.

I Never Forgave.

2010-01-23T20:32:00.000-05:00

How do you possibly learn to forgive someone? On Wednesday, while working at the pregnancy center, I started reading a book about forgiveness. I picked it up because I had a no-show and an extra 30 minutes before seeing my next client. The book was short and the cover was cute. I didn’t think I could learn anything from it. Silly me.

Remember everything that went on last fall? I blogged about it, a little.

I don’t even think I was more than two pages into the book before I realized I still had a problem. A big one. By compartmentalizing the hurt I’d experienced, I found a way to go on with my life without it playing as a constant refrain in my mind. But, though I’d absorbed the impact of the hurt and for all appearances “let it go” by “forgetting” about it, I hadn’t forgiven everything.

Because I wasn’t moving on.

Forgetting is not the same as forgiving. And believe me, it was the worst feeling in the world to realize how much I still have to give up to God.

Last night, I sat on the kitchen table talking to my sister with tears streaming down my face as I tried to explain just how many layers of hurt and unforgiveness are still piled up in my heart. “How does this go away? How am I supposed to forgive everything?” I asked her. “How can I just walk away and accept everything that happened?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s something God gives us the power to do. We can’t do it ourselves.”

So. “Hello Lord, it’s me, your child, again….”

And, on top of that, I’m going to re-read the book. It’s by June Hunt and the title is, “Forgiving Others”. I’ll blog my notes (or any particularly good quotes I come across) as much as I can. I have a lot to learn and I hope I am willing to.

Thanks for joining me.

Shots.

2010-01-21T13:59:00.001-05:00

Apparently, where I saved on my ticket, I was hit by the vaccines. Ahh! But thankfully, I was able to get them done this morning (except for one follow-up shot I'm getting the day before I fly out). The whole operation cost far more than I expected it to -- but that's okay. It's all going to even out in the end.

I decided to start a Kenya scrapbook with all my receipts and pictures and papers and journal entries and other et cetera I acquire along the way. Those are the kinds of things that won't have a place in my book, but I know I'll still want to hold on to them for memory's sake. (No, I'm not being a pack rat. I have a good use for everything -- and a place to put it. See? Ahem.)

Passport down. Shots down. Ticket, pending. I really am going to Kenya. Eeee!!

Stress, Songs, and Airplane Tickets.

2010-01-13T22:52:00.000-05:00

Some days I get stressed out before I even walk out the door. This morning, I knew I'd be seeing more clients than I'd ever before seen in a single day. They were also all first-time clients, which meant the sessions would be long and I'd have to cover all my bases: spiritual, emotional, and physical needs -- always difficult to remember everything. (After I walk a client to the door, it seems like I always remember a question didn't cover -- ugh.)

Oh. And the write-ups. I try not to take notes when I'm in a counseling session so the girls don't think I'm making them into a "case" or a "project", but I had a hard time imagining a whole day without any note-taking. Some evenings I sit down to do my write-ups and can't remember which FOB is employed and which one is here in the United States without a visa. Which girl attends the church on the corner and which one hasn't been in years. Which FOB already has 2 kids and which one has the stepson named Eric who is always getting into trouble at school.

Long story short? I got through it. In some places, it was rough. My first client didn't care where she was going after she died ("This might sound funny, but...."). For a minute, I didn't know where to start. Then the Lord gave me words. My last client barely spoke English. Then the Lord reminded me of my South Korean co-counselor who taught me a lot of useful phrases during our summer together. We finally were able to connect.

When I finally left the center, I no longer felt up to visiting the nursing home, but decided to go anyway because I'd already promised to stop. And as usual, once I got there, I was hooked. I spent an hour and a half visiting and praying with everyone, but after walking up and down the halls a few extra times, my feet were starting to hurt and I decided it was probably time to go.

I told everyone goodbye and started to walk out, but my friend Willie grabbed my arm and said, "Listen sugar, you go ahead and sit down in that chair for a minute until I come back." I kind of shrugged to my other friend Beulah and watched as Willie walked out the door onto the balcony.

"Should I go?" I asked her.

"I don't know, honey," she said. "He might be playing some kind of a prank. Why don't you wait and see."

That sounded good. I decided to wait.

Time went by. He still didn't show up and I was getting impatient. I didn't look forward to an even later, long drive home through the city so I walked over to the balcony door and looked through it. On the far side of the porch, I saw Willie enjoying his evening "smoking privilege" (that all the residents speak of with such reverence). Seriously? I thought. He probably forgot he told me to wait.

I walked back to where Beulah and her friends were sitting. "I think Willie got sidetracked," I said. "I'm going to go ahead and leave."

Then I heard him call out behind me, "Jennifer, wait -- don't go! I want to sing you a song. Or -- oh well, maybe next time."

"Oh no, please sing! I was just going to leave 'cause I thought you forgot about me," I teased. "I'd love to hear your song."

So, with all the residents gathered around in the hallway and a few nurses looking on amusedly, Willie threw his head back and sang 5 verses of song I highly suspect he (mostly) made up on the spot. It was all about how much he truly loved me and how much everyone looked forward to my visit. The fourth stanza was about his work with the local police force (it made me smile) and the fifth talked about how much he wanted to meet my family and go with me to Africa some day.

One line that stood out particularly was when he said their hearts all skipped a beat when they heard my footsteps on the stairs and then saw me walk through the door. Really??!!

Because, wow. I don't deserve that. In fact, tonight, I didn't even feel like coming. I didn't know it meant so much to them. I didn't know what to say.

Then Beulah told me to wait and came back a few minutes later clutching a copy of Our Daily Bread and a stack of type-written papers with guided Bible study notes. "You gave me books last week and I'm still reading that picture book you gave me about Africa," she said. "Remember you wrote in the front of it? Now honey, you take this one and read it. It's about God and I think you'll really like it. Look up all the verses and study it, okay honey? Promise me you'll do it."

I assured her that I would, hugged them all, told them I loved them, and ran down two flights of steps, through the foyer, and down the dark sidewalk to the car, thinking the whole way, "He is faithful, He is faithful". I could barely remember the morning's stress.

And then, as if that wasn't enough of a blessing, when I came home and checked my email, I had a message from my travel agent -- she found me a round-trip ticket! Also, it's missionary fare: which means that I can take 3 pieces of luggage without an additional [and crazy] fee. It was also $200 less than I'd expected to spend and I am so grateful!

I'm still trusting God for the rest of it....but He has a way of working those things out. I'm not worried. He is so good to me. Why do I ever doubt Him?

To Friend or Not to Friend.

2010-01-05T10:51:00.003-05:00

Top 10 thoughts on adding friendship to evangelism.

Crazy lady that Jenn is, she asked me write about evangelism. Specifically, she wanted me to talk about friendship in evangelism.

You've probably heard this debate. One side says we need to spend every waking moment telling people about Jesus (and not sleeping too much). The other side says we need to first cultivate friendships before sharing the gospel. It's like the chicken and the egg, only the gospel is the chicken and friendship is the egg. So which comes first?

Crazy guy that I am, I'm attempting to answer the question with a question: isn't it both?

Lest Jenn never invite me to guest post here again, I'll try to explain myself instead of just leaving you with that Philosophy major answer.

(By the way, I like lists and, evidently, long posts. I hope you don't mind.)

1. The answer isn't either/or.

It's both. You can't expect someone to believe the amazingness you share without trusting you. On the other hand, it's no good when someone trusts you if you're wrong.

2. Trust is important, and friends trust friends.

I've said before that friends accept friends before they accept advice. I'm sure you can think of exceptions to this, but they don't hold when you get into repeating the gospel.

If you just give advice, you're either accepted or rejected right there. That's it – you have one shot. If you build a friendship, though, even if the person doesn't accept the gospel advice the first time, you still have a huge opportunity to follow up again and again.

3. The Truth is important, and the Gospel gives Truth.

The danger in building friendships is that we can easily slip into friendships only, forgetting the truth of the gospel altogether. I think this is why many Christians are so zealous about avoiding “friendship” evangelism. Friendship is a fantastic medium to exchange ideas and beliefs. But we can't forget that it's not the message. The message is the gospel. Friendship brings the gospel to everyday life.

4. Evangelists are afraid to friend.

Friendships require commitment. Door to door, broadcast evangelism often requires no commitment at all. If 100 new Christians were converted to Christ from the efforts, the evangelist would most likely direct all of them to his or her local congregation and eagerly go back to walking door to door.

Christ's commend, though, was to go into the world and make disciples. Sometimes, oftentimes, it's easier to just tell about Jesus than live like Him. (More on this in #9.)

5. Friends are afraid to evangelize.

I remember one time in particular walking door to door inviting people to a home fellowship in a neighborhood where I used to live. I had no problem with the houses where I didn't know anyone. I was more apprehensive about sharing with the neighbors I knew.

At the unknown houses, if I made of fool of myself or for whatever reason they didn't accept what I was saying, no problem. I'd just brush it off and never see them again. But at the houses where I knew someone...

When you share with friends, you put your reputation on the line. You put the whole relationship on the line. Friendships take effort to maintain, so it can be scarier to share with those you know than those you don't know.

6. Without friendship in the beginning, evangelism can easily deteriorate into a duty.

It's easy to spout off the Gospel message and assume you've done your good deed for the day. I know I often fall into this slump. I share, then figure if they don't accept it, it's not my problem. My mission's accomplished. They can't blame me for not sharing with them when they stand before God.

I think a lot of Christians have that mindset. We often share the gospel because it's the Christian duty. But no, I don't want to do that. I want to evangelize because I genuinely care about people. That's why Jesus shared with others. He actually cared about people. Evangelism is a privilege, not a duty. We tell others about Christ because we care.

7. Without the gospel in the beginning, evangelism can easily startle.

Nothing like building a friendship around misconceptions to ruin a friendship. I'm all for friending, but don't ever come across as someone who's not a Christian. I know it can help smooth into friendship in the beginning, but when (if?) the gospel does come up, it breaks the trust of the friendship, destroying the benefits of the relationship. That's why the gospel is important from the beginning. Live in such a way that everyone knows you're a Christian even if you're not directly evangelizing.

8. Friendships don't take as long to build as we think.

The apparent urgency of the gospel message seems to force us to cut to the crucial points of salvation as quickly as possible. This means cutting out the relationship part – or so we think.

We've confused making friends with maintaining friends. Making friends can be a relatively quick process. Start by buying a stranger (not of the opposite sex) a Latte at the neighborhood Starbucks sometime. You'll see what I mean.

9. Friendships are harder to maintain than we think.

Friendships don't take long to make, but they are difficult to maintain. This is where evangelism crosses into discipleship. Discipleship is about committing to someone with no guarantee for response. Discipleship is about following up and opening up. It's about authenticity. It's about teaching by example, not just by the words you say.

Pulling this off requires us to have a much deeper relationship with Jesus than what's required to deliver a track and invite someone to fellowship. Those are fantastic, but they're only the beginning.

10. Friends encourage instead of just providing more information.

For me, this is the clincher. At least in Western culture, everyone's heard about Jesus. They might not have the whole, accurate picture, but they've heard. It's like most other things now - we have all the information we need. If someone wants more info, Google it.

Friends do more than offer more information. They offer encouragement. They build certainty into the information that's already available. Most people have heard the gospel. What they need is to see it walking around, to feel it caring for them. That's where we come in.

At least that's where I try to come in.

But what do you think? Am I completely off base? What role does friendship play in evangelism?

_________________

Marshall Jones Jr. is your average carrot juice drinking, 20 year old PK who lives, writes, and runs a free e-course from beautiful Louisville, Kentucky. He blogs about serving others at www.bondChristian.com.

Cutting.

2010-01-03T16:08:00.002-05:00

Is cutting wrong? The other week, I counseled with a girl named Katie who, after struggling with the habit for many years, realized it might be. She explained that in years past, it brought the release she needed from anger and depression, but now it left her feeling guilty. Did that mean she really needed to quit?

“I mean, I pray to God and ask Him for help with my problems and stuff, but I also need something that works right away,” she added. “Cutting works. Is it really wrong if it gives me peace? God wants us to have peace, doesn’t He?”

I thought for a moment. “If cutting really brings you peace, where does this guilt fit in?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Yeah, I see what you’re saying,” she said. “But then….what does it mean? What should I do about it?”

A Reputation.

Katie isn’t to be blamed for the confusion brought on by her feelings of guilt. As she is now fully aware, there’s a great deal of stigma associated with the habit of cutting, and those enslaved by the habit are often painted as victims: unstable and depressed. Since she didn’t feel like an unstable victim, she questioned the validity of her misgivings, hoping the guilt was misplaced and not evidence of a deeper heart issue.

The truth is that many people who cut (unbeknownst to their friends and family) are easily accepted as normal, happy, and productive members of society. They fear discovery because they know it will risk their “other” image forever. “I don’t want this to define me,” Katie said. “If people find out, they’re going to treat me like a mental case and I know I’m not. I guess if the guilt means I’m being convicted, then fine, but if it’s just because I’m afraid of what other people think, then I don’t want to hear about it. I know myself better than they do.”

Reasons Why.

Are cutters mentally unstable? Many studies show that cutters are not necessarily unstable—they just have great difficulty managing their deeper emotions. Either they spend too little time dealing with them—or too much. The imbalance usually leads to unhealthy actions.

Is this a rare problem? Not at all. According to a poll done by Christian Parenting, 51% of all respondents said that either they, their child, or someone they knew were involved in self-injury. Is this statistic shocking? 2% of the world’s population have already been treated for self-injury—imagine how many more are still dealing with it alone.

So, what makes people start cutting?

There are myriad reasons why someone might resort to self-injury. It’s often the result of intense emotional turbulence, induced by such things as stress, abandonment, depression, relationship issues, failure, or general feelings of worthlessness.

Author and speaker T. Suzanne Eller recounts a conversation she had with a 17-year-old girl: "I've never told anybody before," she said. "I'm only talking to you because you didn't freak out. The last thing I want is for my Christian friends to think I'm evil or possessed. I love God with all my heart. But I feel so worthless. I feel trapped."

Another teen admitted that cutting gave her a feeling of control when she was in the midst of turmoil that otherwise left her helpless. “It’s my way of doing something.”

Eller’s article continues: “Leslie Vernick, author and licensed counselor at Christ-Centered Counseling for Individuals and Families, says what a teen's really saying is, ‘Help, I'm hurting and I don't know how to deal with my pain!’

““The endorphins released during cutting often soothe a deeper pain—the pain of rejection, depression, self-hatred, or helplessness," says Vernick. A teen who self-injures finds instant release through the biochemical reaction and confuses cutting with comfort.”

Wendy Lader, Ph.D, describes self-injury as "self-medication." Cutters haven't learned to identify or express their emotions so the feelings persist. "The teen is using physical pain as a means of saying something she's unable or unwilling to put into words," explains Vernick. "She needs to be listened to and helped to process whatever emotional pain (even if we as adults might see it as typical teenage pain) she feels so she may learn healthy ways of dealing with hurt.”

Who Does it Affect?

Middle-to-upper-class female teens are most likely to fall prey to the habit, according to statistics, though no one is immune.

One teen admitted that she began cutting because her family was under a lot of stress and she felt like adding her own turmoil to the mix would only cause a greater burden. After trying to deal with her emotions by self-injury, she realized that she’d caused a greater problem. When her parents discovered her secret, they were mortified and heartbroken. Their disappointment not only increased the feelings of shame and inadequacy, but drove her further and further away from any chance of rescue.

The vicious cycle is plain to see.

Also, as is evidenced by this scenario, cutting seems to be especially prevalent among empathetic and introspective personalities. These personalities are inclined to bottle up the frustrations and disappointments of others (as well as suppress their own emotional reactions) until they often feel the need for physical release.

The Temptation.

It’s difficult for people outside the situation to understand the true temptation a cutter faces. According to Katie, the mere sight of a knife or razor weakens her resolve. “It’s easy to be unsympathetic if it’s not your weakness. But saying stuff like, “Why don’t you just stop!” or, “Think about how it looks to other people!” or, “Why don’t you just talk to someone about it?” only makes it worse.”

“Sometimes I think, ‘So what if I cut?’” said Katie. “I mean, I have a whole life apart from it. I do a lot of things. I’m involved in church. I go on mission’s trips. My friends even ask me for advice on stuff.”

Is There Hope?

God asks a lot from us. He desires that we rely on Him—not a person, habit, or substance—for our ultimate peace and fulfillment.

No addiction is easy to give up. But at the same time, God never asks us face something He doesn’t also give us the power to conquer, through His grace.

In Leviticus, the Lord specifically forbids the Israelites to indulge in practices derived from the pagan cultures around them. “Do not cut your bodies for the dead or put tattoo marks upon yourselves. I am the Lord.”

In other cultures, death was received with much mourning and despair. People cut themselves to display their grief as well as bring emotional relief. As Christians, the Lord reminded them that they still had hope in such things as death—there was no need to ease pain or depression the same way the heathens chose to. Sadness was expected, but it could be cast onto, and resolved through, Christ.

“For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. Out of all the peoples on the face of the earth, the Lord has chosen you to be his treasured possession.” We belong to Christ. We’re set apart as His treasured possessions. We don’t need the coping techniques of the unregenerate. As Katie admitted, the cutting brought temporary relief, but the after-effects of shame drove her to cut herself over and over again until the habit just consumed her and she was broken.

As Christians, we also know that we are to respect God’s creations—especially what is made in His own image. 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 says, ”Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, who you have received from God. You are not your own; you were bought with a price. Therefore, honor God with your bodies.”

While this entire passage is generally referring to sexual immorality, these two verses obviously speak about much more than our sexual conduct. We are not our own—we were bought with a price: the price of Jesus’ death on the cross. And now we belong to Him. Out of love for Him—and gratefulness for His sacrifice—we are called to be obedient to His will—including the directive to honor Him with our bodies.

Lysamena, author of www.self-injury.org, comments: “God made our bodies (Genesis 1:27), and if we are Christians, the Holy Spirit lives in them. Therefore, a proper Christian life involves care not only for the soul but also for the body—even while the body must be kept under control and used to serve the Lord. Self-injury, then, is prohibited for Christians because it violates the principle explained here: that the Lord's holy people are not allowed to deface God's image in themselves.”

Cutting also demonstrates an acute lack of trust in God’s promises. By defacing our bodies, using them as a release for deep feelings of depression and anger, and trying to “fix” things ourselves, we are basically telling God that He is no longer sufficient in our weakness. We begin to trust our flesh.

When we put confidence in our own wisdom—doing things that are right in our own eyes—we step outside of the circle of blessing that is shown through obedience and in so doing, forfeit our communion with God. If you find yourself in this heartbreaking condition, cry out for His rescue. He is a God of pity and tender-mercy; He won’t leave you on your own.

A Call to Healing

Lysamena continues, “Does this mean that Christians never self-injure? Of course not. Both Christians and non-Christians struggle with self-injury. The wonderful and glorious truth, however, is that Christians believe and trust that Jesus' death on the cross has already paid the penalty for all the sins they will ever commit. Moreover, they have died with Christ and are dead to sin. The life they now live here on earth they live by faith in order to please God (Galatians 2:20, Romans 6:1-13). Does that mean ending self-injury? Yes, it does. Because of the Spirit's help, the Christian won't be doing it alone.”

Lysamena is right. Thankfully, you aren’t called to fight single-handedly. The Lord will give you “grace to help in time of need”. If you’re trying to conquer the addiction yourself, you are likely to fail repeatedly and sink deeper into despair. Ask the Lord to come alongside you and remind yourself that He is good—He will provide for your emotional needs like no one and no thing ever could.

And finally, realize that you can’t—and never will—be able to fix the pain in your heart without Him.

No addiction is easy to conquer and no one should pretend that it is. As I’m sure anyone who has struggled with the habit could tell you: there’s no “quick fix” for cutting. But there is an everlasting love and a perfect promise you can run to when you are faced with temptation or despair.

Is cutting wrong? Yes, it is. It’s a sin against God and against yourself. But it doesn’t ultimately make you a victim unless you let it pull you under. Choose God’s freedom over your bondage. Cast your cares on Him. And, according to your love for Him, strive to obey Him.

He loves you.

A Fresh Start.

2010-01-01T16:22:00.002-05:00

Happy 2010! I’ve looked forward to this new year for some time now. 2009 wasn’t the best year of my life, by any means, but it was a year of growth—in countless ways. I can see that already.

I promised myself I wouldn’t be in a reflective mood when the clock turned and ushered in a new decade. There’s so much I’d love to remember, but it's all so tinged with grief and regret, I figure it isn’t really worth reminiscing over.

I’m ready to turn the page. So far, I’m more excited about this coming year than I have been about any other new year in the past. I know the Lord has so many great things in store and I’m eager for change.

Years like 2009 were necessary years: years designed to shape and prepare me for things to come. I don’t need to remember everything. Certain events are better off buried right where they collapsed, but what the Lord taught me? It should be shouted from the rooftops.

There’s a verse I’m using as a benediction over 2009. In Exodus, the Lord says,

“Build altars in the places
where I remind you who I am
and I will come
and bless you there.”

Even in the midst of heartbreak and turmoil, the Lord showed me His protection and love. The lessons He taught me were by no means easy, but in every instance, He gently reminded me who He was—and who I wasn’t.

He is the Savior who does all things well. The God who never sleeps. The Friend who sticks closer than a brother. The One who loves me with a jealous love. The Author and Finisher of my faith. El Shaddai, Adonai, Jehovah Jirah.

And I am nothing without Him.

So, instead of begging for a memory charm to forget 2009, I will build an altar in my mind—in all the places where my Savior revealed Himself to me—and beg Him to bless me there. Ask Him to redeem lost time. Ask Him to restore brokenness. Ask Him to turn regret into peace.

Maybe 2009 was a good year for you. Perhaps it’s 2010 you’re dreading. Either way, remind yourself that the Lord sends both good times and bad—and through it all, reminds you of who He is. “I will come and bless you there.” His ways are not our ways. What a comfort that is!

What are you looking forward to in the coming year?

Joy.

2009-12-30T16:58:00.001-05:00

Last night, after running several errands in town, I stopped by one of our local nursing homes, loaded down with chocolate and some other pretty little things.

Over the months, our church has built a unique relationship with the residents there, through adoptions and visitations and caroling. But I'd never had much of a chance to visit with anyone personally.

Last night changed that. And now, I know I'm going to stop back there -- often.

After visiting with the two elderly men our family "adopted" and giving them some chocolate, I wandered into the room next door where two women were watching television. The one lying on the bed by the far window was not coherent, but the one in the wheelchair by the door could string a few faltering words together.

I crouched down by her chair and listened to stories of her childhood and all the myriad ways our town has changed since she was in school. (She also gave me detailed directions on how to prepare chitlins, then when she learned I was from Pennsylvania, sniffed that I was a "northern girl" and "that explained it". She made me smile.)

I asked everyone the same general questions, "How was your Christmas? Did you do anything special? Did you have any family come in and visit you? What do you find to do around here? Do you like the food?"

Most of the answers were the same, "I slept. I watched TV. I don't have any family left. I didn't do anything special. There's nothing to do around here. Sometimes the food's good; sometimes it's bad." My heart cringed for many of them -- their boredom and hopelessness. It was a dismal place.

Until I met Willy in room 217. He was sociable and kind and lively. When I walked into the room he shared with a gentleman who couldn't speak (but who had completed an impressive stack of daunting crossword puzzles) he immediately offered me a chair and asked me how my Christmas was.

I was a little taken off-guard. "Oh, it was fabulous! The first white Christmas we've had in a long time. How was yours?"

"Oh, sweetie, it was great. I had a good Christmas. How are you doing?"

Every time I asked a new question, he either turned it right back to me or came up with questions of his own. When I gave him a big handful of chocolate, he smiled and thanked me profusely and ate several them as I sat there across from him. I asked him about the teddy bear on his bed and he told me that the bear's name was George and that he loved stuffed animals and if I ever felt like bringing any more, he'd love to have them.

Hanging on the wall over his bed, I saw a picture of a younger man and woman -- the man bearing a close resemblance to him. "Is that a picture of you?" I asked. I could tell his vision was poor, but he knew what I meant and smiled right away. "That's me and my wife. She passed away in 2003. Best woman in the world."

"I bet you miss her terribly. She looks really sweet."

"Oh, she was -- she was. If she were still alive, I wouldn't be here in this place."

Then I asked him what he found to do all day, confined to one hall. "Oh, you get to know people," he said. "So many people and everybody has something to say. Usually you can just joke around with people and sit in the cafeteria and watch a show or something. There's always something if you're really looking."

Wow. There, in that dark, decrepit, smelly room that was barely 10x10 and shared by two people, I saw a glimmer of true joy. Willy knew something vital: that it is only in truly reaching out to others that your own troubles are diminished.

And then there were the others:

Beulah, who said she would keep the necklace I gave her as a special keepsake and asked if I could bring crossword puzzles the next time I came (she promised to teach me how to become proficient with them since I complained that they always confused me).

Rita, who, despite being in a wheelchair, was impeccably clothed in pale peach (with an added touch of unique jewelry) and deeply concerned about my travels home, alone, through the dark city. She added a special caution to me, making me promise that I would be safe in Kenya.

Maryanne, with a surprisingly deep voice and a brightly-colored head scarf that coordinated with her purple sweatsuit, who told me how much she loved chocolate and how much it meant to her that I would sit and talk to all of them.

Joy, Patty, Mary, Bobby, and the little man with the big smile who never gave me his name, but informed me that he only ever ate cheese sandwiches....the list could go on.

I left with promises of magazines and story books, crossword puzzles, cookies, and stuffed toys upon my return. Some of the elderly folks, I know, won't even remember me by next week -- but I won't forget them any time soon.

Kenya.

2009-12-29T23:32:00.000-05:00

So....I'm going to Kenya!! I'm really going!! If all runs according to plan, I'll leave in mid-February -- and not come back until the end of April. I've been hesitant to blog about it before because there was a lot going on and I never felt a full release to go until Christmas. The day after Christmas confirmed it even more.

It's a long story that began on Valentine's Day of this year -- when God first showed me the door and whispered to me about the possibility of opening it. And now, I'm really going! I got things finalized with my passport today and now the fun begins! ....The whole trusting God that He'll make my paths straight thing. You know, the fund raising. He's faithful, though. I'm not worried. He's brought me this far already.

I'm going to work on writing another book while I'm there too. I know I'm going to learn so much.

I'm kind of really, incredibly excited....

Kenya!!!!

Saving Face.

2009-12-28T15:16:00.000-05:00

After avoiding most of the people I'm closest to, in a silly attempt to save my own face, I finally went back to the circle I know. And you know what? Turns out it wasn't a big deal to anyone but me. I hadn't done anything wrong, so what did I really have to hide?

I lectured myself the entire past week. "You have no reason to avoid people, so you won't. And you will tell everyone the truth if they ask."

So I did. Every free moment I had, during fellowship time and after the sermon, I stood and talked to people. I was honest with them. I was open. I was truly free for the first time in months. I looked them right in the eye and, if they asked, told them all I needed to say. It was brief, it was honest, and I was right -- it wasn't a big deal to anyone but me.

Before yesterday, I felt like I'd be straggling into church as half a person -- and everyone would instantly see how deceived and used I was -- and how I was unable to be real with anyone anymore -- and pity me. Turns out, I was the same person to them. Stronger, even. And I could be real. By magnifying a situation in my mind, I'd let it take control of me.

I wish I'd realized that that weeks ago.

A Dirty Glass.

2009-12-26T15:29:00.001-05:00

I'm a germophobe. Not just your ordinary I-hate-being-sick-and-therefore-I-hate-germs germophobe, but I mean a die hard. Like, really hard. I'll catch myself holding my breath when I'm in public and I know something is going around.

The other day, I was walking through the grocery store and someone sneezed just as I turned into the aisle. My response was completely instinctive. I flung myself about two feet to the right, ducked way below head-level and hurried to the opposite end of the aisle. Holding my breath, naturally. Good thing their back was turned.

Hand sanitizer is my Star of Elendil -- my saving grace. I'm never without a bottle (or two). When I worked as a counselor at a summer camp, I kept a massive bottle of it on the dresser beside my bunk. "Feel free to help yourselves anytime," I always told my kids. And prayed that they would.

And public restrooms? Don't get me started! When I leave a public restroom, I feel like burning my shoes. I'm not kidding. My feet absolutely crawl; I can almost see the bacteria festering on the underside. Public restrooms must be the equivalent of Purgatory or something. Want to torture me? Lock me in one some time. And turn off the lights. You'll get the information you need within five minutes. (I promise.)

Even the soap feels contaminated. I wash my hands in scalding hot water, use my jeans as a towel if there are only hot-air dryers available (bacteria breeding ground, much?) and then either wait until someone else leaves (or enters) the restroom and will open the door for me, or (if I don't have an amused crowd of onlookers) I'll perform one of my greatest acrobatic maneuvers of all time. It's called something like the, "Jenn-strrrretches-and-opens-the-door-with-the-back-of-one-flip-flop-while-trying-to-maintain-her-equilibrium-by-hopping-erratically-about-on-the-other-foot" move. (I think the Olympics has an official category for that. Just saying.)

I worry about food poisoning too. Not that I've ever had it, mind you. I just worry about it. So much, in fact, that when dishes come out of the dishwasher with residual crud on them, I feel sure that if I unwittingly eat something out of a contaminated bowl, I'll be among the unfortunate 9,000 or so people who die annually from food-related illnesses. (Yes, I know these elusive facts.)

So, this evening, I was unloading the dishwasher in search of the perfect cereal bowl to use for my late-night Cheerios indulgence. I tend to be a little particular about which bowls and spoons and plates and -- yeah, you get the idea. So, when I did find the perfect bowl, I turned it over only to find some of the aforementioned residual crud. FOODPOISONINGALERT!

I went over to the sink and began to diligently scrub away at it (it was a teensy, crusty spot along the rim, but hey....), using plenty of soap and hot water. As I scrubbed, I reflected on how many times crusty or smudges dishes had sent me to the sink with soap and hot water. And then I remembered drinking glasses.

I have this thing about drinking glasses. Every time I pull one out of the cupboard, I never fill it immediately with water. I first hold it up to the light and rotate it slowly, checking for residual crud. As I washed my bowl, I realized that, without even thinking about it, when someone else asked me to grab a drink for them (except under very rare circumstances) I almost never checked their glasses for crud.

Not a huge deal, I suppose. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how little that makes sense. Other people may not be as obsessed about food poisoning as I am, but that doesn't mean they want to drink out of dirty glasses either. If we honored the preferences of others even half as much as we honored our own (little things: like, remembering which spoon is our favorite; washing our drinking glasses before filling them; leaving off the Cool-Whip or serving our steak well-done) we'd be living in a different world.

"Do to others as you would have them do to you." The command seems so simple. And yet, it's not! Big sacrifices are sometimes just easier to make. Besides the fact that everybody notices and you get to feel generally heroic for giving up your rights, they're also pretty cut-and-dry! Small sacrifices? Not so much. A life of "doing to others" demands a consistent, sometimes excruciating death to self. And that's not easy!

Do you do unto others?

(There should be a bumper sticker that says that.)

(It's catchy.)

(Kind of.)

Merry Christmas.

2009-12-25T12:17:00.000-05:00

I remember this day a year ago. I sat in almost the same spot, looking at the tree and at the wrapping paper strewn across the floor. As I sat there, I remembered how quickly a year could come and go and wondered what I'd be thinking as I sat in the same place a year from then. Well, now I know. It's not what I expected to be thinking -- and I'm not who I expected I would be -- but the Lord is gracious. And I am thankful.

A year has changed me. How has this year changed you? For the better? Worse? Are you more confused now than you were last year at this time? Have you grown in your relationship with Christ? Do you have a better understanding of the fruits of Spirit and how they apply in your life? There's so much to learn and so little time in which to exercise it. A year is gone so quickly.

This is my favorite passage to ponder at Christmastime. From 1 Timothy 3:16.

"Beyond all question,

the mystery of godliness is great:
   He appeared in a body,
      was vindicated by the Spirit,
   was seen by angels,
      was preached among the nations,
   was believed on in the world,
      was taken up in glory."

In a nutshell, this is why we celebrate. Have a very Merry Christmas, you guys.

Broken.

2009-12-22T20:49:00.000-05:00

Are you like me? I often make impulsive decisions, based on emotions and the people around me. Earlier today, I was thinking of that verse from the end of Galatians that says, "Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load."

I haven't always done that this year. I've inflicted hurt on myself and others because because I failed to test my own actions. Failed to carry my own load. (In fact, often, I carried someone else's unnecessarily.) It's left me broken. But I suppose brokenness is a good place for new beginnings....

Oops.

2009-12-21T16:58:00.000-05:00

I'm not even close to being done with my Christmas shopping. And Christmas is in 1, 2, 3....4 days? Not possible. I remember feeling proud in September when I knocked the first few items off my list. Obviously, that wasn't a trend.

Despite the snow, someone needs to take a shopping trip. Soon. I felt pro-active when I ordered something online a few days ago -- until I realized how long shipping takes. Maybe it will be here before the new year?

A couple days ago, I heard myself starting into the, "Christmas isn't about gift-giving anyway" rant, but I think it was just to make myself feel better. I think we all know the true meaning of Christmas, but the fact remains: gift-giving is a neat tradition -- and it's more blessed to give than to receive. The gift doesn't need to be costly or phenomenal, but it should be thoughtful and individualized. (Granted, it's fine to buy your coworkers the same soy candle, but maybe your family would prefer something more suited to their individual tastes.)

It's neat: the better you know someone, the more thoughtful you can be with the gift. Just because all my shopping is going to be last-minute, doesn't mean I need to sacrifice the personal touch.

I don't know. Am I alone? Does anyone else have shopping left to do?

Not Finished Yet.

2009-12-20T00:12:00.001-05:00

Last week, I got a phone call from a good friend of mine. Her great aunt was in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt. She was doing poorly—and she didn’t know Christ.

"I want to visit her and tell her about Jesus," Hannah told me. I encouraged her and prayed with her, figuring that would be my only part in the matter. I told her to call me back to let me know how the visit went, but instead, when I heard from her several days later, she asked if I would also go along to help share the Lord with the family.

So, I just got back from Washington, DC. It's a good thing the trip was last-minute and I didn’t know many of the details before we left. Two and a half hours into the trip, Hannah told me the family was devoutly Buddhist. And I was floored. I didn't know anything about Buddhism—I was nervous enough about sharing the gospel with unbelievers....but Buddhists?

I watched the highway disappear under the car, mentally bracing myself for the fact that we were on our way—we weren't turning around—and we were going to share Christ with the family no matter what. Buddhists.

Then, as if the Buddhism factor wasn’t enough, about 15 minutes from our destination, Hannah told me that her great aunt didn't speak or understand English. Her uncle and cousin (who were looking after her great aunt) spoke Vietnamese as well, but were also (thankfully) fluent in English. "I'll translate for you if you need it," she promised.

Now I was really in a state of semi-panic. Buddhists that only spoke Vietnamese? What was I even here for? I stared blankly through rain-streamed windows as the countryside fled past. What am I going to do?

“One thing you’ll notice about my uncle and his family is that they’re so rich—they have everything they need—they don’t think they need Christ,” Hannah said as we pulled up to their brick and pillared mansion.

Her uncle came to the door and let us in without a smile. We took off our shoes, dropped our luggage in a corner of the massive kitchen and looked around. Her uncle pointed to the sofa in the livingroom—the one with its back to us. Of course. Her great aunt wanted to see us. We greeted her enthusiastically and she immediately asked Hannah to help her take her medicine in the other room.

So, in less than five minutes, I found myself alone in the livingroom with her rather-imposing, rather-Buddhist uncle.

First, “How do you know Hannah?” Easy enough. “Church,” I said. We looked at each other awkwardly before the phone rang and he went to answer it. I stared around at the 10-plus Buddhas I could see from my vantage point on the couch. My heart sank. This wasn’t going so well.

By the time he came back, I’d lectured myself sufficiently and the conversation wasn’t quite so stilted, but it was far from comfortable. He still scared me to death. I knew right then and there I’d never be able to share Christ with this rich man who was clearly self-satisfied with his life, his accomplishments and his beliefs.

After a grand tour of the house, Hannah suggested that we give her aunt a massage. I could read the message in her eyes. In the seclusion of her aunt’s bedroom, Hannah pulled out her Vietnamese Bible. I prayed silently as Hannah read and shared Christ with her aunt. Tears sprang into my eyes as I listened to Psalm 139 in another language.

Her great aunt fell asleep at some point. Hannah and I looked at each other over her head, feeling defeated. “How about your uncle?” I asked. “Will he listen if I try to talk to him?” She looked hesitant. “I think so,” she finally said. “I can’t be the one to do it, though. In Vietnam, younger people never speak to their elders about things like that. I don’t know if he’ll be angry or not.”

As her great aunt snored and we massaged her bony, wrinkled arms, we whispered about our plan of attack. I had a massive list of questions about Buddhism, some of which Hannah knew the answers to, but most of which, we just guessed at. Looking at the wall covered with her uncle’s awards and certificates, a lump formed in my throat. To ignore a conviction was sin. And I was convicted to speak to Uncle Hung—somehow. Lord, give me strength, I prayed. I still didn’t think I could do it.

I think that afternoon was the longest of my entire life. When Hannah’s great aunt woke up, we helped her out to the livingroom sofa and massaged her back. Hannah read the Bible again, keeping it tucked into her lap so as not to rouse her uncle’s anger. I also held my Bible on my lap, partially covered by my prayer journal, and continued finding passages for Hannah between silently praying and journaling.

As I listened to the truth spoken in a tongue I didn’t understand, I desperately begged the Lord to open this poor woman’s ears and breathe hope into her hopeless soul.

Over and over her great aunt said, “I feel like such a burden. I just want to die. I wanted to get better, but now I know I won’t, so instead I want to die, then I won’t be a burden.” It broke my heart.

After dinner, Hannah and I cleaned up the kitchen, then went back to sit with her great aunt. Her uncle was again absorbed with work in his office—the French doors faced out into the livingroom and we felt like we were in a hostile fishbowl. We’re leaving tomorrow, I thought. I have to do something—tonight. But how?

Finally, her uncle came in with a camera and snapped a picture of the three of us on the sofa together. As he walked past me, back to his office, I said, “Um, excuse me.” He said, “Yes?” I said, “That picture—right there on the wall. What do the words mean?”

He turned and studied it for a moment, then replied, “It says, ‘Breathe, my child’.”

“What does that mean?”

“Breathing is a big part of meditation—that’s what we have to do when we meditate: forget everything except for breathing in and breathing out.”

“Really? What’s the purpose of that?” I asked. “Like, what are you meditating for?”

He obliged and the conversation grew. Eventually, he seated himself on the floor, beneath the picture and set the camera beside him. The minutes ticked on.

“So,” I continued, “just saying there is a little Buddha inside of me and I never acknowledge it, what’s going to happen to me? Do I go to hell?”

Uncle Hung winced slightly. “Well, I think there are other options for you. You will be reincarnated as something less desirable, for instance. But you get nine chances.”

“And then what?” I asked. “What if I still never acknowledge Buddha? Or—what about all the people who never realize they have a little Buddha inside them: what’s going to happen to them?”

“I don’t think the past or future is worth discussing,” he replied. “The present is the only thing that matters. That and your personal happiness and peace.”

“But see, I guess I want to believe something that answers my big questions,” I said. “I want to know where I came from, who put me here, what they want from me…and where I’m going. It just seems like Buddhism isn’t answering those questions. I don’t think I could have true peace and happiness unless I had more security. I mean, you believe Buddha was a good man—well, so was Jesus, right?—so was Mohammed. What sets Buddha apart? What makes Buddhism more appealing to you? Why choose it over the other religions?

“I know all religions require a certain degree of faith since there’s no way to prove everything, but Christianity at least answers more of my questions than Islam or Buddhism. Such as the question of where I came from. I mean, it makes more sense to me to know that an all-knowing, all-wise, all-powerful God created this world and placed me in it for His glory—than that I’m just floating around, trying to do good things and hoping that the little Buddha inside me will think it’s good enough to let me achieve humanity again.” Can Buddhism answer those four questions?”

I could see the thoughts swimming behind his eyes. I tucked my shaking hands further under the pillow that I clutched to my stomach.

“Well,” he said. “Maybe not those questions necessarily. But they’re not the important questions. “Are you a good person?” is the most important question.”

“But who gets to say what’s right and what’s wrong?”

“The Buddha inside you will tell you.”

“Who gives him permission to say what is right and what is wrong? Wasn’t he a human just like us?”

“But he was the person who did the most good.”

“So if I do a lot of good, does that mean I can be like Buddha some day? Will I get to say what’s right and what’s wrong then?”

“Well, perhaps it is possible, but the only people who really have enough time to become so good are the priests, I think.”

It went back and forth. But at one point, I had the perfect and unforeseen opportunity to present the gospel—from a completely objective standpoint: “I….guess it just makes sense to me that I was given the will to disobey God, and that when I did, I faced the fatal consequences of my sin (because the cost of sin is death). I brought it on myself. But God gave me a second chance: He had mercy and sent His only Son to be the sacrifice for my sin—to pay the penalty for me—so that I don’t have to die—you know, I don’t have to go to hell—and I can have eternal life.

“He died so that I don’t have to. In the Bible, God tells us that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. We all fall short, but He has promised salvation if we repent of our sins and confess Him as Lord. I guess it just seems like Christianity has a good answer for those hard questions.”

When I finished, Uncle Hung studied my face carefully for several seconds before finally replying, “All I can say is that right now, all that matters is your own peace and happiness. If you are happy by living a good life, you don’t have to worry about the future.”

“But….what if you’re wrong?” I asked. “What if you’re wrong and you die?”

He was silent for a long time, reflecting. “I don’t know if that’s something I can think about right now,” he finally said.

That night, as I lay awake beside the bed of Hannah’s great aunt, listening to her talk and moan in Vietnamese, I thanked the Lord for taking my weakness and inability and fear, and using it—despite me— for His glory. I thanked Him for Hannah’s heart and for the burden she’d been given for her extended family. I prayed that the seed would continue to grow in their hearts—and that it might eventually yield a good harvest.

The next afternoon, as we packed our suitcases and made our last round of farewells, Uncle Hung approached me and said, “Thank you for the discussion. It was very interesting. It gave me a lot to think about it, so thank you.”

“No, thank you,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Come back anytime,” he added.

When Hannah and I pulled out of their driveway and drove four hours home through the streaming rain, the dread was gone. Only hope remained. The Lord wasn’t through with this family.

Snow.

2009-12-19T15:29:00.000-05:00

I remember the last time it really snowed. It was almost an entire year ago. And I slept outside on the porch. It was after 5 AM by the time I finally turned in -- I called one friend to say "goodnight" and another, to say "good morning". Those simple phone calls marked the end of an era -- and the beginning of a new one. I don't really like to think about it. So much has changed in one year.

It wasn't just a blizzard that night -- it was an ice storm, too. There is nothing like turning out all the lights in the house while it's still dark, and snuggling down into a sleeping bag on an upstairs porch....seeing the light reflect through ice all over the trees -- and have sleet and snow sifting down as you're falling asleep.

I woke up with my sleeping bag crusted with ice....and little icicles in any exposed part of my hair. I don't think there's any replacement for that experience. The wind was blowing: full of fog and mist and freezing rain....and the ice was rattling down out of the trees and crashing on the gravel driveway and the frozen grass. Even my cell phone screen was fogged up with condensation.

It was beautiful.

And now, that year is over -- so quickly. So tragically. The snow began falling yesterday afternoon -- and it's been falling steadily ever since. But I don't think I'm going to sleep out on the porch tonight.

Pro-Life.

2009-12-11T17:03:00.006-05:00

I've always considered myself to be pro-life. I mean, I'm pretty sure I am. If you followed me through my week, you'd probably agree. I spend several days a week counseling young women in crisis pregnancy situations. I believe in the sanctity of life -- that anything created in the image of God is worth defending. And, as much as is possible, I speak up for those who can't speak up for themselves. Pro-life, right?

But a few days ago, I realized I wasn't very pro-life at all.

What on earth am I talking about? Well first, what exactly does it mean to be pro-life anyway? In my limited estimation, "pro-life" meant, "Any stand taken against abortion (and abortion only)". The term used to evoke images of special interest groups, campaigns, protests against abortion, and crisis counseling for young, unwed mothers. Ultimately, I thought it meant making a commitment to help others choose the gift of life.

But I've come to realize that being "pro-life" is more than merely acting as an advocate for the unborn. It's a worldview. It's a lifestyle. Jesus told us that He came to give life -- more abundantly. He demonstrated that very fact when He gave Himself up for us on the cross and took the death penalty for our sins upon Himself -- so that we could live forever. Has there ever been a greater pro-life act in the history of the world?

Because of God's ultimate sacrifice, we are also called to be pro-life in every area of life, not just in the most obvious sense of defending the rights of the unborn.

How does that work? It means building people up by speaking life-giving words instead of tearing them down with discouragement, anger, and manipulation -- all life-taking actions.

Gail Dillinger of LIFE International says, "How can we deliver a life-giving message to a [young woman in need] and at the same time express a life-taking message towards [others]?" She continues, "Whether we realize it or not, when we wake every morning, we decide which side to be on in the cosmic battle between life-givers and life-takers. We reveal our choice through our language and actions, beginning with the first person we speak to and proceeding through the rest of the day. When we interact with our family members, friends, co-workers, and enemies, do our words and actions increase life or diminish life?"

When I leave the center, my work is over. I've made my contribution to the pro-life movement. But my family? I live with them every day -- and they get all the leftover yuckiness: criticism, complaints, and my largely divided attention. Life-taking. I'm tearing them down. De-valuing them. And something's wrong with that picture.

James 3:9-10 says, "With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God's likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be."

Sin is death. Are your words and actions life-giving or life-taking?

Maybe we're not as pro-life as we think.

Enforced.

2009-12-07T14:22:00.003-05:00

The other day, I was driving home from work when I saw flashing lights in the oncoming lane. Instinctively, I checked my speedometer. Nope, couldn't be me. Whew. As I watched in my rear view mirror, a truck in the opposite lane made its way onto the shoulder, an unmarked car sliding in behind it.

Ooh, I hate those unmarked cars. As a rule, I'm pretty strict about following the speed limit, but that doesn't keep my heart from skipping a beat when I see those lights (especially because those few times I've been late....yeah). To be on the safe side, I employ the use of cruise whenever possible, but traffic around here is unpredictable -- it's not always an option.

I love getting stuck behind a car that's going the speed limit. Really. Once I've followed them for a while to ensure that they're being careful and consistent, I only need to maintain the proper amount of distance between my car and theirs, before zoning off into my own thoughts. My only responsibility is to make sure that I don't end up tailgating them. Simple, really. Kind of like an external version of cruise.

But then I have a problem. When I'm not behind a car that's dutifully traveling along at the speed limit (and I can't use cruise), I have to be on my guard. Which means watching for speed limit signs, those flashing school zone lights, and those annoying things that switch between red and green and yellow at intersections. Stuff that I just might be out of practice for.

How about you? Are you a good driver -- or do you depend on the conformity of others to ensure your own adherence to the law?

As with driving under controlled circumstances, growing up as a "good Christian kid" in a "good Christian family" has its own special insurance policy. It's likely that you won't end up in a variety of messes, just by default. But when the big test comes -- when those familiar safeguards are removed -- how do you respond?

That's when you figure out if your convictions are your own, or if they were merely gained by assimilation. I posted earlier about "accidental virginity" -- a few thoughts by Gabriel and Becka Anast. I think Becka's comment in particular, applies here.

Becka says, "A few weeks after I married Gabe, he told me something funny. He said one of the things he most valued about me was that I wasn’t an “accidental” virgin. He said he had met conservative home schooled youth from a dozen families who were virgins just by happenstance. They hadn't personally made a choice to be pure. The parents had made that choice for them - which is good - but the kids had never made that choice for themselves. He said there was no telling how many of them would have given away their virginity if they had been placed in new circumstances and allowed to do whatever they pleased.

"Have you made a choice yet? Are you doing as much as you can get away with in the confines of your parents' ruling, or are you personally walking after the Spirit of God? Do your convictions change with the crowd you're in, or do you know who you are?"

Have you made a commitment to do the right thing, regardless of the people around you? Or are you hanging around hoping the safeguards won't be removed, that you won't eventually be forced to compromise? Life is too short to hope or make guesses.

Driving is more than just avoiding a ticket. It's about making a conscious decision to be safe and obey the law -- on your own -- regardless of the circumstances, people, pressure, convenience, feelings. Then, when you see flashing lights, there'll be no reason for your heart to ever skip a beat.

Marriage: A Business Transaction.

2009-12-05T01:29:00.007-05:00

Are you in love? Unfortunately, heightened emotions can cloud your better judgment and lead to poor decision-making and lots of heartache on the flip side of things. Is your guy really who he says he is? How can you be sure?

There's no real litmus test for determining whether your suitor is really all he appears to be. I find it humorous (and vaguely disturbing) the number of Google searches that are made by anxious girlfriends, in an attempt to discover if their boyfriend is the Antichrist. I mean, really. If you think you're dating the Antichrist, that just might be a red flag. Run -- okay?

In all seriousness, however, you need to know who your guy is. And you can't just figure that out by asking the people who love him most. However nice their complements, they're biased. Bear in mind that if you meet him at school or college or work, he's out of context. If at all possible, view his behavior around the people he's most familiar with. Is he demanding? Lazy? Disrespectful? Manipulative? How do these people respond to him (and his behavior) in return? Are they guarded? Stressed? Surprised (that he's so nice)? Sarcastic? Foul-mouthed? It could be that he easily accepts these things (or returns the favor) when he's not in your presence.

What kinds of things does he rationalize? His choice of reading materials? Recreation? Distasteful humor? Friends? Use of money? Language? Time management? If he's rationalizing the grey areas now, it's only bound to get worse.

Committing to a lasting relationship is a big decision -- even for the best of us. And you deserve to be informed. Like a good friend of mine said, "Marriage is a business transaction. All the mushy-gushy stuff is nice, but it's not important. It's a business deal, plain and simple. You need to know if you want to buy what they're selling and live with it, 'cause it's not going to change. In fact, it's only going to get worse!"

When you buy a used car, one of the first questions you want to ask is if it's been in a wreck -- but why? Because it's going to affect your life as its driver! It might cause you a lot of grief and stress in the future. So find out: what are they trying to hide and why? Is there serious damage? Baggage? I'm not saying whether these things can be dealt with and reconciled or not (that's for another post). I'm just saying, don't be afraid to ask questions. Don't be afraid to poke around. It's your life -- and you should know who you're going to have to spend it with.

Still, it's all very confusing. What can be done? A few things, maybe. But two things, for sure:

First, hear the advice of those who love you (and who are also emotionally detached from the situation). I think there's a quote about that. "Hear the advice of those who love you, though you may not like it at present." Or something like that. It's a valuable tip. There's a lot you can't see in the haze of feel-good-iness. Trust the ones who love you most.
Second, pray every single day that the Lord will only let you be attracted to evidence of His Spirit in your guy's heart. It's a prayer I've not forgotten to pray -- and it's a prayer I'll continue to pray. If your guy is a true and Godly man, the attraction will follow. In the meantime, don't be swayed by appearances or by smooth words. Those things aren't going to last. Character will.

Number My Days.

2009-12-04T15:32:00.005-05:00

Hard to believe it's December already. I had high hopes for this year -- I really did. I wanted to start running consistently. (I've been out here and there, but mostly in the warm weather.) I wanted to go without sugar, wheat, red meats, and dairy for an entire year. (I only made it for three months.) I wanted to finish writing another book. (I barely scraped together a few chapters.) I wanted to study my Bible for at least an hour every morning. (There are still some days I don't study at all.)

The worst of all these things? I could have succeeded in doing those things. I wasted a lot of time on fruitless pursuits this year. I had no eternal perspective, whatsoever. And I made a lot of excuses.

Running: I had a million reasons to stop -- and happily accepted them all. Shin splints, foot problems, bad running shoes, no decent track to run on. Basically, it was hard. And I wanted out. Quickly.

The diet excuses weren't as obvious -- or as plentiful. But do you know how boring it is to eat only steamed vegetables and brown rice and oatmeal day after day after day? When my starved taste buds begged for the once-yucky taste of liquid chlorophyll, I knew things had gone too far.

Oh -- and I had another really good reason to end the diet: weekend company around the 3-month mark. I didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable at mealtime. (How thoughtful and self-sacrificing of me. I mean, really. Wouldn't you feel bad to be eating lasagna when your table-mate is eating almonds and spinach?) So, for their sake (naturally) I ate "people food" for four days and promised myself that when the visit ended, I'd get back on track.

Trust me when I say that after eating pepperoni pizza -- and salad with feta cheese and dried cranberries -- you don't want to eat plain brown rice with broccoli anymore. So, I didn't.

The writing problem. For some reason, it's been a struggle to even update my blog this year -- let alone work on another book. I realized the other day that I spend way more time reading about writing and studying the art of writing than actually writing. No, really. You know those writers who get in sloughs of unproductivity? The ones who read and read and read and then get discouraged because someone else already said it better (first)? Me. I'm one of them. Somehow morphed overnight (or so I'd like to think).

I want next year to be different. I want to stop being blown about by whims and excuses. I want to wake up every morning and ask the Lord to teach me to number my days so I can gain a heart of wisdom.

Do you know what that verse really means? (I think it just hit me in one of those vulnerable "Ah-ha, I-might-have-known-this-all-along-but-didn't-think-it-applied-to-me-yet-for-some-reason" moments.) "To number your days" means realizing the brevity of life -- the purpose of life -- and living like you believe it. Living because you believe it. When you apply your knowledge and abilities for God's ultimate glory, you gain a heart of wisdom.

It's that not-simple. Because, for one thing, it means no more excuses.

But, sitting here at the end of 2009, I realized how very much I need to pray those words every day of 2010. And maybe, if I can wrap my heart and head around it, with the Spirit's help, I won't chase after so many vain (and time-consuming) pursuits. I won't make excuses to avoid self-discipline. And I'll focus more on bringing glory to God and less on what I want or what I feel.

Being disciplined is rough. It's discouraging. Sometimes boring. Often painful. But we're called to run as if for the prize -- not run as if we'd take the first excuse to cower back into the sidelines. Our reward is in Heaven -- not on earth. So run like you believe it.

Makin' a List, Checkin' it Twice

2009-12-02T01:12:00.001-05:00

I don't think it's too early to make a list of New Year's resolutions. I know there's a lot of hype surrounding these lists, which easily warrants the just-tone-it-down-already-would-you comments: ("Oh, you're going to discourage yourself; just do the best you can."). But I don't buy any of it. I've always been a big goal-setter and contract-writer. Many of these said contracts have come close to saving my life. (Well, slight exaggeration, maybe. But hey....)

Is it only the choleric perfectionist who falls for these lists? Perhaps. (Or maybe it's a sweeping generalization and all the naysayers (i.e., phlegmatics) should come apologize. Handwritten notes, please.)

I know I tend towards extreme perfectionism in all things--except for the organization of my bedroom. I refuse to even think about the best way to store my bountiful collection of clothing. And shoes. And books. In fact, my messy room is probably the one area of my life I'm not quite ready to become obsessive-compulsive about. But I know that this coming year, I must, because ignored conviction is a dangerous thing. (It's at this point I begin playing, "Painting Pictures of Egypt" by Sara Groves. Listen to it. You'll understand.)

So, for now, I have two items on my Resolutions List:

1. Clean my room.

2. Keep it clean.

Sounds like 2010 is going to be a good year.

Hurt.

2009-12-01T19:21:00.003-05:00

A few days ago, I sat across from a girl with a hurting heart. Her life was in shambles—her innocence, left amidst the wreckage—her spirit, without the strength or motivation to do the next thing. She’d made some poor choices and found herself violated, rejected, and filled with despair.

After sharing her story, she looked up at me, waiting to hear the verdict—the prescription. What could I say?

At first, I wanted to take her by the shoulders, look directly into her eyes and say, “How did you not see? How could you have missed it like that? How could you have messed up so badly?”

But I’ve made mistakes in my life too. I’ve lied to myself—covered my eyes with both hands, and blundered off the edge of cliffs that I knew (but didn’t want to believe) existed. I’ve hurt myself and other people: I’ve failed to forgive both. I’ve walked into walls that looked like doors. There are scars on my heart; there are choices that I can no longer live down (I don’t even try—they belong to God now; I gave them to Him). But the memories are mine for the rest of my life.

I used to be intimidated by the mere thought of sharing my testimony with girls in crisis situations. (Especially when I worked as a counselor for inner-city youth two summers ago. So many needy girls: I couldn’t even begin to understand the hurt in some of their hearts—so how could the story of a “good, Christian girl” possibly help them?) As a kid, I’d been blessed with a Godly heritage, wise and involved parents who nurtured and encouraged me to grow in the knowledge of Christ—and I’d never been saved from such drastic things as drug or alcohol addictions, illicit relationships, or abuse.

Or had I?

As I journaled one evening, I realized that I had, in fact, been saved from all those things. Before I’d ever endured the pain of living through them. I haven’t been spared all scars in life, but I’ve been spared most. My testimony is a glorious one: a true picture of God’s grace.

Sure, I’ve struggled here and there, but there are those who have struggled more. I’ve been hurt, but others have endured torture. I’ve encountered heartbreak, but some girls gave everything to men who changed their minds. For today, I have been spared these things.

A few days ago, I sat across from a girl with a hurting heart. And instead of condemnation, I took a deep breath and told her the story of grace. For without it, I’d be in the exact same place.

Crossroads.

2009-11-13T01:59:00.005-05:00

Well. I made my decision. (Or rather, I suppose the Lord finally chose to reveal the path He would have me take.) I've sought out advice, listened to counsel, and (hopefully) received instruction. I've dragged my stubbornness, my anguish, my wayward will before His throne and left it at His feet every morning, every night -- nearly every waking moment these past two weeks.

He spoke. He spoke through the voices of people who loved me and knew what I was going through. He spoke through the words of those who had no idea what I was going through, but who had wisdom to share anyway. He spoke through the books I read. The Bible I lost myself in. The prayers that I prayed and the silences I forced myself to endure. The journal entries I made myself write when all I wanted to do was run (and keep running). He spoke through tears and disappointments. Through anguished thoughts and sleepless nights. He spoke through the decisions of others. But most importantly, He spoke -- and I finally chose to listen.

So now, everything is in order and I am tired. Nervous. Bracing myself. Not really ready for tomorrow. I've been asked to do a very hard thing -- to handle a situation I never wanted to face (and certainly never reckoned for) -- but my God will go before me. And if He is for us, who can be against us?

I don't want it. I don't want this responsibility. I don't want to hear myself mouth words that I only mean because I know they're right. But tomorrow, I will speak those words, I will surrender my will only because, through God's grace, I've finally acknowledged that He will use this situation for good -- for His glory.

His way is always best.

Someone gave me a quote today. I've read it a lot. It makes sense -- and I trust the wisdom of it, even though I can't feel it right now. "God never takes away anything that He doesn't replace with Himself." (Jacquelyn K. Heasley) My Savior is all -- and "fillest all in all".

Courage to all you who stand at a crossroads. Choose our Savior -- and His way first -- for even through the valley of the shadow of death, He will lead you. His right hand will hold you fast. And in the end, His glory will be your everlasting reward! Is it worth it? Yes, yes, and amen!

Two Masters.

2009-11-12T15:28:00.003-05:00

It's a dreary, rainy day, tacked onto the end of a vicious windstorm. I fell asleep to the sound of the wind rattling the house, shaking the brittle trees -- and the noise of the rain, pounding against the roof, splashing at the windows. When I looked out the window this morning, the ground was plastered with wet leaves. The trees are nearly bare. Winter is coming. And soon, this year will be over. I'm ready for the seasons to be made new again.

I've been plodding away, working on several blog posts simultaneously these past few weeks. (It's a good thing you can't see all the drafts I have, lurking in my "Edit Posts" folder. It's shameful.) But I'm feeling so terribly distracted these days. I meant to publish part two of my previous post today, but I can't stay focused for more than a few minutes at a time.

You know how it is when you're faced with a big decision? It's the only thing you can think about. It plays over and over in your mind. You can barely sleep. When you dream, it's all you dream about. It's all people ask you about. It's all God speaks to you about. And, knowing what you should do, and knowing what you want to do, leaves a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Because soon, you'll have to choose. "Choose ye this day whom ye will serve...."

And I cringe. It would be so tantalizingly easy to do the wrong thing.

A friend of mine recently told me that you can't serve two masters -- if you desire something more than you desire God, you end up resenting God. And oh, how true that is! So often, over the past few weeks, I've felt myself at the edges of resentment towards God for that very reason -- I'm not willing to give myself (and every area of my life) completely to Him. Instead, I argue with Him: "Why did you have to bring this to my attention right now?" "Why did you have to make me unsettled about this?" "If things had to end up this way, why couldn't you have revealed it all months ago?" "How could you let me go so far?"

Humans arguments, I can answer. I can speak and minds can change. I can even lie to myself for a time. But I can't hide or contend with the unsettledness in my heart. The lack of peace. When I pray, it's there. I still don't want to make any decisions. But I must.

That's where I am right now. Soon, it'll be over. The decisions will be finalized and maybe peace will come again, but for now, I'm losing all my focus for daily tasks. There are things to write -- deadlines to meet -- work to get done -- and I'm stuck here in this slough of turmoil.

In moments like these, it's almost embarrassing to remember that God always comes through -- that He works all things together for good (His good, mind you. Not always our initial perception of what it is good. But in time, He makes His good, our good, through His grace). When I look at my narrow-minded, stubborn, willful self....it's disgusting, the way I've often lost focus. God already promised to lead me in a straight path if only I trust in Him. He already promised to give me wisdom if I ask for it. He already promised to take my cares if I cast them on Him. So why this doubting? Why this refusal to surrender my will to His?

Two masters. I've tried to serve them both, keep them both happy. And in doing so, I have honored no one.

Dear readers, pray for wisdom every day. And when you feel that nudge at your heart, that twinge of conscience, that unsettledness in your spirit....listen. Life is too short to serve two masters. Decide where your allegiance lies, and spend your life proving it.

Forgive Often, Trust Once?

2009-11-10T15:47:00.009-05:00

I never thought I had an issue with forgiveness. (I mean, I don't hold grudges, if that counts.) But, this past week, I realized that, while I'll forgive many times, I usually only trust once. And once I stop trusting someone, it's nearly impossible to trust them again.

Under what circumstances is reinstated trust a wise thing?

The girl's Bible study that I attend is currently going through the book of Romans -- and for starters, we reviewed a bit of Paul's (then Saul) history. Saul grew up in a Jewish family and belonged to a strict sect known as the Pharisees. As he grew, he became a zealous leader of those determined to exterminate Christianity. He was so zealous, in fact, that he was responsible for the brutal murder of hundreds upon thousands of Christians.

Remember the first recorded Christian martyr, Stephen? Saul was responsible for his death. If you read the account of Stephen's murder in Acts chapter 7, you'll see that "a young man named Saul" was the one who encouraged the town to riot and cast Stephen out, finally stoning him to death for his faith.

Do you know how horrific stoning really is? It's not like Stephen had pebbles thrown at him repeatedly until one finally hit him at just the right velocity to enter his brain and kill him, as with David and Goliath. No. Imagine being crushed and bruised by massive rocks, hurled with a man's full strength at your head and chest. How brutal! And how gruesome. And yet, this is the death that Saul ordered upon Stephen. "And Saul was there, giving approval to his death." (Acts 8:1)

As a side note, I find it incredible that, when Stephen knelt there outside the city, committing his spirit to God even as the life was being pounded from his body, he prayed that the Lord would not charge his murderers on account of his death. What grace! (I think his prayer was answered. Read on.)

After overseeing the murder of Stephen, Saul began another riot in the city -- dragging Christians (regardless of age or gender) out of their houses and into the streets, treating them shamefully as he herded them together and drove them before the magistrates. This was business as usual for Saul.

To be perfectly honest, Saul's bottomless, murderous hate towards Christians is difficult for me to understand. (Sure, he disliked them. But, enough to persecute them? Explanation, please!)

Now, read Acts 9:1-2: "Meanwhile, Saul was still breathing out murderous threats against the Lord's disciples. He went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem."

He got permission. The warrant was in his hand. He was already on his journey, traveling the famed road to Damascus.

Then suddenly, a light from heaven flashed around him. A blinding light -- so bright that he fell to the ground and hid his face for the glory of it. Then he heard a voice that said to him, "Saul, Saul: why do you persecute me?"

I love Saul's next question. "Who are you, Lord?" It's like when you ask a little kid to tell you their name: "What's your name, Timothy?" You know the answer (obviously); you just want to hear it from their own lips. I think this is a good indicator of the work God already began in Saul's heart. At this point, he knew God was calling him -- he just wanted to hear Him confirm it.

And the Lord humors Saul: "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do."

Have you heard about Ananias? He was a disciple of the Lord, living in Damascus -- one of the Christians doomed by Saul's mission. Well, after Saul had been in Damascus in three days, still blinded from the exposure to God's glory, and weak from lack of food or water, the Lord called to Ananias in a vision. And Ananias answered.

Acts 9:11-16: "The Lord told him, 'Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. In a vision he has seen a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him to restore his sight.'

" 'Lord,' Ananias answered, 'I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your saints in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name.'

"But the Lord said to Ananias, 'Go! This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the Gentiles and their kings and before the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name."

Ananias knew who Saul was. In fact, it was likely that Ananias had even lost family members or friends to Saul's ruthless regime. Yet, the Lord directed him and he obeyed, albeit fearfully. Can we blame Ananias for doubting? Of course not! Look at Saul's track record! Ananias was fully justified in fearing for his life (after all, the Lord never promised him safety -- only directed him to go to Saul).

After the Lord healed Saul (through Ananias), he allowed him to spend several days with the disciples in Damascus, preaching in the synagogues, proclaiming Jesus Christ to be the Son of God.

But, the Christians weren't so quickly convinced. "Isn't he the man who raised havoc in Jerusalem among those who call on this name? And hasn't he come here to take them as prisoners to the chief priests?" (Acts 9:21)

As Saul became more powerful, the Jews were "baffled" -- and eventually conspired to kill him. Distrusting, much? But do you blame them? Just in time, Saul learned of their plan to take his life and his loyal followers helped him escape the city in a basket, let down through an opening in the city wall. He was on his way to Jerusalem.

We read on: "When he came to Jerusalem, he tried to join the disciples, but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he really was a disciple." (9:26) Barnabas spoke up on Saul's behalf, recounting the story of the light from heaven and of Saul's fearless preaching in Damascus -- and for a short time, they accepted him, allowing him to preach and move freely about their city. But it wasn't too long before the Grecian Jews also began to plot against his life.

Because Saul's conversion and repentance was true, (however hard it might have been), it was the duty of the Christians to forgive him. But it was hardly Saul's place to demand forgiveness. "Well, I said I was sorry, so you guys need to forgive me." I'm so glad he didn't.

So often, I find that when a brother or sister sins against another brother or sister, they expect immediate forgiveness. They're forever presuming upon their fellow believer's better qualities. However, there are two parts to forgiveness: first, the agreement to withhold punishment from the wrongdoer (thereby, taking the suffering for the offense upon yourself) and second, the restoration and embracing of that person. The second part of forgiveness is not so easy. (And it by no means must be proven in some practical way as the newly-forgiven one often asserts. On a rabbit trail: often, I think people ask for forgiveness in order to receive some form of personal gain -- the return of status, trust, responsibility. Not merely because of heartfelt contrition. (Or maybe barring contrition entirely).)

Look at it this way: when the Believers finally did forgive Saul, did that necessarily mean that they needed to prove it by entrusting the lives of their children to him, for example? No. That would be foolish. They were under no obligations to prove their forgiveness for Saul in those ways. (Also, is it true repentance and sorrow that demands the forgiveness be proven by the expenditure of something precious to the one who forgives?)

So, although forgiveness was required (and given, in some cases), they still needed time, with God's help, to wade through both steps. And so did Saul. Knowing this (and having other plans for Saul at that time), the Lord led Saul to Arabia, where he rested for about three years (according to some sources) -- receiving revelation from the Lord: being taught, strengthened, and giving everyone time to heal.

Personally, I find it difficult to swallow the fact that the story of Stephen's stoning is found only a few chapters before the story of Saul's conversion. And then the very next book of the Bible is written by Saul himself -- containing God's plan of salvation for sinners, and then telling the church how to live: first as Christian servants, then as Christian citizens, then as Christian brothers.

This man was a murderer -- he was probably responsible for the death of people they knew and loved. And now they were supposed to listen to him? Accept him as their teacher? Become his disciples? Also, when Paul wrote his letter to the church in Rome, he'd never even visited Rome yet (hence the letter). How could they simply take him at his word, without seeing his changed life?

I'm not going to argue with God about how fast He can save and change a sinner. But, after seeing horrendous sins repeated over and over, it can be a little hard to trust.

Think of Saul's conversion from the perspective of the Jews. He entered their city in a weakened state, needing medical attention and care. He was utterly helpless, having lost his sight. The Jews had to help him. But when he recovered, he could have easily faked a conversion experience, just to get out of the city safely (most of the Jews would have been anxious to take his life, knowing what a cruel and murderous man he'd been) -- he was already thoroughly at their mercy.

I'd have been one of the skeptics.

But look at how the Lord eventually used Paul! I've often thought that, although the Lord redeemed and used Paul in ways we can't even begin to imagine, He also allowed him to undergo all manner of persecution and trials and imprisonment just to prove to the Believers that he had truly given his life to God. Because truly, if he were leading everyone on and faking his conversion, there would be a limit to his endurance. But, through Christ, he was able to endure all manner of sufferings in his body.

After his light-from-heaven experience, Paul was ready to jump head-first into the ministry: his heart burned with passion and conviction to do the Lord's work. His mouth was filled with words and truth. But, understandably, not every heart was ready to hear and receive it. And so Paul had to be patient and wait. He had to persevere in his good work. In fact, he had to remove himself from the situation entirely -- sit at God's feet and learn, grow, and prove his repentance, through time and committed, consistent obedience.

So, perhaps I need to rethink my, "Forgive many times; trust once," policy. While it's sometimes good to remain cautious, there is no end to what God can do in someone's heart. Time can prove it. Maybe even in less than three years.

Pure.

2009-11-09T13:16:00.005-05:00

What will you bring to your marriage? Regrets and moral downfalls? Past impurity? Guilt? Do you realize how these things can affect the marriage relationship - even when both parties are now fully submitted the Lord's leading in their lives? Even if you've seen it "work" in such situations, uphold a high standard for yourself. The marriage relationship is a wonderful thing -- but not if it's entered into with distrust and insecurity. Is this what you want for your life? Is that what God wants for your life?

This morning, I was reading through some notes on Facebook and saw that one of my friends posted this excerpt from a book by Michael and Debi Pearl called, "Jumping Ship: What to do so Your Children Don't Jump Ship to the World When They Get Older". This excerpt is written by the Pearl's daughter and son-in-law.

(To the Youth -- Becka Pearl Anast:)

You are the future. I won't tell you that waiting for your mate isn't hard. It is. I have wondered a million times why God gave teenagers such powerful, raging hormones. Why couldn't He have placed that hormonal curse on the old folks that have all the patience and discipline in the world? It’s hard just to keep your thoughts straight, sometimes. But if you knew what is waiting for you . . . if you only knew how good it could be! You would never accept a toy car in the place of a real, shiny red Porsche.

Don't listen to the disillusioned and bitter couples who talk about how hard marriage is, struggling to get along and trying to make it work. If they talk like that, you can bet they messed up somewhere in the past and have no idea what marriage was intended to be. They think their broken product is the way all marriages are constituted. They are wrong. Out of dozens of marriages (good marriages, but not trouble free), we know of only three that came from pure pasts on both sides, neither of them bringing into the marriage any regrets or moral downfalls. Those three marriages were fantastic from the start.

The Bible says, “Be not deceived, God is not mocked; whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” If you sow trouble with your flesh before marriage, you'll reap trouble later on. If you sow purity - oh, yes! It can be soooooo good! Take it from us (my husband and I): a pure youth makes for a fantastic marriage, without regrets, without heartache, and without fear. Nether one of us has had second thoughts, and we never will. Be assured: waiting is so worth it!

A few weeks after I married Gabe, he told me something funny. He said one of the things he most valued about me was that I wasn’t an “accidental” virgin. He said he had met conservative homeschooled youth from a dozen families who were virgins just by happenstance. They hadn't personally made a choice to be pure. The parents had made that choice for them - which is good - but the kids had never made that choice for themselves. He said there was no telling how many of them would have given away their virginity if they had been placed in new circumstances and allowed to do whatever they pleased. Have you made a choice yet? Are you doing as much as you can get away with in the confines of your parents' ruling, or are you personally walking after the Spirit of God? Do your convictions change with the crowd you're in, or do you know who you are?

Even the Bible College for missionary kids that I attended taught a watered-down form of righteousness for the single person. They discussed whether or not dating, holding hands, kissing, sexual deviances, etc., were okay. Everyone had different standards. One day a frustrated student called out, “Why didn't God just tell us what we ought to do? Why didn't He just give us a list of dos and don’ts?'' The professor couldn't answer him. At that time, I didn't know the answer either. I felt just like that student. Why couldn't there be a list of rules to go by? But he gave us something much better - his most HOLY Spirit.

(Gabriel Anast:)

God was actually specific. The word “fornication'” in the Scriptures is sexual activity outside the confines of marriage. That means, any activity or thought that you pursue for sexual pleasure. This law of God allows for different standards for different people. A thirteen-year-old boy won’t be able to look at or do things that a sixty-year-old lady could, with a clear conscience.

Sexual highs are meant to be enjoyed by one man and one woman in a context that is sacred and safe from the intrusion of other people. But in order for marriage to be holy, those who enter into it must themselves be holy.

Imagine a couple standing at the altar in their wedding finery both of them having slept around, more recently with each other. What does the “holy bonds of matrimony” mean to them? What privileged act of pleasure are they going to receive now that they are married? What could have been is now spoiled and gone. They have the same stolen goods they took before their vows, plus doubt, mistrust, and a nagging sense of discontentment and shame. There is no elation or joy in the perfect gift of physical union. There is no gift at all; only spoiled stolen goods.

Sex is not just a pleasurable act of procreation. It is an act of kindness, care, and generosity. For a woman, it is like an act of worship; for a man, it is an act of joy in the blessings and gifts of his wife. Those highs are righteous, glorious, and a pure. God gave us these intense feelings and pleasures as a gift to be enjoyed. He also gave us boundaries to protect that gift, boundaries to ensure maximum enjoyment and freedom, and boundaries that prevent guilt, shame, regret, and ultimately the destruction of that gift. When the boundary of sexual purity before marriage is disregarded and violated, the enjoyment of His gift is lessened and corrupted. Persistent violation of those safe perimeters will eventually replace all enjoyment with shame and fear. Many couples get married only to discover one or both of them is broken in the area of enjoyment due to the violation of boundaries in the past. God, in His grace and mercy, can mend the broken pieces, but…oh, the joy of having no broken pieces to begin with!

Maybe your parents have a marriage that you admire and desire for yourself; but maybe they don't. If they are working through their past mistakes and are making a go of it, I'd say their efforts are admirable, to say the least; I wish more couples had that fortitude. But don't take their example, however good or bad, and aim for the same. Aim for higher, better, purer, and more glorious examples! Make a decision within yourself to stay pure for the spouse God is preparing for you. There are some folks who need a list of rules; but the highest standard flows out of a sincere love for God. He will show you by His Spirit and with your own conscience when to draw the line. Believe that it is worth it. Be a virgin at your marriage by choice.

Blessings.

2009-11-06T14:19:00.007-05:00

I'm trying to read a book of the Bible every day. (Not just the short ones.) I'm not going to do it forever (I can't), but while I have the time, I thought it would be a good discipline. Yesterday, I chewed through 1 Kings. All 22 chapters.

Solomon's gift of wisdom makes me pretty jealous. I'd like to think that if God told me to ask for anything I wanted, that I'd ask for a discerning heart and the ability to distinguish between right and wrong as Solomon did, but I just don't know. Right now, I'd be more likely to ask for a clear path and a memory charm. (Fail. I know.)

Something jumped out at me as I read. You know how God tells Solomon that if he continues to follow the statutes and commands laid out for him, he will be blessed with wisdom, riches, long life, and honor? Yeah. It seems so simple. God says, "If you do this, you can continue to have this." And Solomon is like, "Great."

But not so simple. The next part of this story always reminds me of those lines from Gilbert & Sullivan: "Of all the woes that curse our race; There is a lady in the case." Remember Solomon's foreign wives? He had like 700 of them. Well, they served foreign idols, and I suppose, to stay on their good side (but that's no excuse), Solomon began to construct idols for the "detestable gods of Moab and the Amorites" around Jerusalem. And his wives offered burnt incense and sacrifices to their gods.

And the Lord said to Solomon, "Since this is your attitude and you have not kept my covenant and my decrees, which I commanded you, I will most certainly tear the kingdom away from you and give it to one of your subordinates."

Now, get this part:

"Nevertheless, for the sake of David your father, I will not do it during your lifetime. I will tear it out of the hand of your son."

If I've learned anything this past year, it's that sin has consequences. Of course, when I was young, my mom would tell me, "Be sure your sins will find you out," (ominous) and I figured that when (not if) I was found out, painful consequences would ensue. But, after committing a few offenses that completely went over my parent's radar, I began to get self-assured.

At that young age, I didn't realize one very important fact: God sees everything. Like, everything. And He's called the Righteous Judge. Whatever man fails to see and punish, God still sees. And God punishes sin.

The thing that gets me here, though, is not just that God always punishes sin....it's the way God chooses to punish sin. I mean, look at this! Solomon was the one who sinned. And God chose to punish the next generation -- Solomon's offspring. They suffered for something they had no control over. And Solomon was spared because his father (David) obeyed the Lord - and the blessing (for his obedience) was extended to the next generation.

Have you ever heard the song, "Generations" by Sara Groves? I probably listened to it a hundred times before realizing what she was singing. I'd explain the words, but you'd probably lose the beauty. So here's the song.

I can taste the fruit of Eve.

I'm aware of sickness death and disease.

The results of her choices were vast.

Eve was the first, but she wasn't the last.

If I were honest with myself, had I been standing at that tree,

My mouth and my hands would be covered with fruit.

Things I shouldn't know and things I shouldn't see

Remind me of this with every decision.
Generations will reap what I sow.

I can pass on a curse or a blessing
To those I will never know.

She taught us to fear the serpent.

I'm learning to fear myself and all of the things I am capable of

In my search for acceptance, wisdom and wealth.

To say that the devil made me do it is a cop-out and a lie.

The devil can't make me do anything when I'm calling on Jesus Christ

To my great-great-great-granddaughter, live in peace.

To my great-great-great-grandson, live in peace.

How often do we really think about the next generation? The generations to come after them? To be perfectly honest, when I sit here and try to think about how my great-great-great grandson's life could be affected by my obedience or my sin, it's kind of hard to care. Who is my great-great-great grandson? (And isn't the Lord going to return before that guy makes his appearance anyway?)

Regardless, we've been given a clear picture in Scripture of how the Lord chooses to delay His blessings and curses. (Think Moses, Joshua and the Children of Israel: the Lord promised to deliver the Israelites to the Promised Land, but because Moses sinned (by not trusting the Lord enough to honor Him before the people), he was cursed and Joshua was subsequently chosen to lead the Children of Israel into the Promised Land. He (eventually) fulfilled His promise to the Israelites -- and blessed them; He just did it in an unexpected way.)

Today is the day to begin praying for the generations to come. Pray that blessings, not curses, will follow you, and that your offspring and their offspring and the offspring to come after that will receive the favor of the Lord because of your obedience.

Lover of My Soul.

2009-11-05T16:55:00.005-05:00

My God is the God who never changes.

The God who is enough.

The God who loves me despite my shortcomings and sins.

The God who knows me intimately.

The God who is always eager to hear me speak.

The God who listens.

The God who never walks away.

The God who knows what I mean, even when my words come out all wrong.

The God who is jealous of me -- my love, my affections, my pursuits.

The God who never chases after other loves.

The God who is never asleep.

The God who I can be honest with.

The God who forgives, even when my apology is garbled and imperfect.

The God who gave His life for me, even while I was still His enemy.

This is my Father and Friend -- the Lover of my Soul!

Ordained.

2009-11-04T11:01:00.004-05:00

I've been praying a lot this week. Like, a whole lot. Not my usual several-minutes-in-the-morning-then-wander-around-and-when-something-comes-to-mind-I'll-pray-about-it. I mean intentional prayer -- for several hours a day.

You've probably guessed already: there's a big issue that I'm agonizing over. And I need direction -- desperately. God knows so much more about this situation than I do -- and in my heart, I do know that He knows best -- but my head is telling me that my way would be so much better.

It scares me how much I want the things I want. But God is in heaven; I'm on the earth. He sees all; I don't even see the next second. Psalm 139 has been my lifeline, time and time again. Here are verses 14-16:

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

"My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

"Your eyes saw my unformed body.
       All the days ordained for me
       were written in your book
       before one of them came to be."

Like the Steven Curtis Chapman song says: "God is God and I am not." Before I was even born, He knew this would come up. He already has the end of this story written -- and He loves me. Of course He'll bring glory to His name through this situation! Whatever happens, will ultimately be best.

But I don't like it. I don't like turning my life -- my desires, my affections, my emotions -- over to Him. Because I'm afraid of how He'll change my life.

Terrified, actually.

Do you know how scary it is to be alone with God? To earnestly seek His will? To bare your miserable soul before the Maker of the heavens and the earth? To ask Him for His guidance -- even if it means forsaking everything you know and love -- and then listen?

Once the Lord sends conviction, to go against your conscience is sin. So, to be perfectly honest, I guess I just don't want to be convicted about some of this! Because some of it has to go and I'm not ready to say goodbye. I was happy before any of this came up, thank you very much! (Erm. Mostly.) I don't want to make any changes now.

But instead, I'm forced to surrender my will to be lost in His. Because He knows best.

"Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting."

Psalm 139:23-24

Singleness: A Hope Deferred

2009-11-02T21:48:00.007-05:00

To all single women who seek to please God, even when living with a hope deferred: Carolyn McCulley has some words of wisdom for you. You may have heard her recently as she was interviewed alongside Candice Watters (think Boundless) for Focus on the Family's 3-part series on singleness.

Recently, I also had the opportunity to interview Carolyn on the subject of singleness. Does contentment mean apathy? How can single women still invest in the lives of children and families? What about hospitality? I think you'll be encouraged by what Carolyn has to share.

Jenn Joshua: I’ve read plenty of books geared towards single women, but the title of yours really jumped out at me. How is your book different from other books written for single women today? Do we really need another book on singleness?

Carolyn McCulley: Do we really need another book on singleness? Well, as an author, I find great comfort in the promise in Ecclesiastes that of the making of books, there is no end (Ecc. 12:12). Job security! Seriously, because of the publishing industry’s short shelf life for keeping most books in print, there is always a need for new voices reflecting timeless truths.

As for how my book is different, I think most books are aimed at helping single women leave our state. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get married obviously, but that perspective only breeds discontent. What I wanted to do was address the good in being single—what in the world God could do in and through it—and also to challenge the conception that being single is less than fully feminine. So often in our culture we put the emphasis on an adjective—single women—rather that on the noun, woman, which is where I think the Bible puts its emphasis.

Jenn: Does finding contentment in our singleness mean we’ve relinquished our dream of marriage?

Carolyn: No, not at all. Finding contentment is a godly quality that we are called to cultivate throughout our lives as believers. The earlier you learn that quality of being a weaned soul before the Lord (Ps. 131), the more fruitful your life will be. To learn contentment now will serve a woman throughout her life, when certainly the issues of trusting God for her husband and children only increase the temptations for discontent and worry!

Jenn: How is it possible to balance our trust in God with our desire to take responsibility in the area of our relationships?

Carolyn: There’s nothing passive about being a Christian, nor is there about biblical femininity. Trust is a proactive quality. It means you are working on your heart issues, your thought life, your innate selfishness. To overcome those things, you have to take action. Your responsibility as a godly woman is to encourage godliness in others, no matter what kind of relationship you have with them. So sow words of encouragement and faith in all your relationships and you will see a profound effect. Sow actions of service and loving charity in all your relationships and again, you will see a profound effect. And when the Lord brings your husband to you, you will be in the habit of proactively building up others and you will be an tremendous helpmate to him!

Jenn: What are some practical ways for women to turn their single years into productive years?

Carolyn: Look at what is required of a woman of noble character in Proverbs 31 and study the areas in which you lack. That’s the focus of my book. Learn to bless those in your private sphere (the home, essentially). Learn the skills necessary in running a home and caring for a family (they are myriad and complicated—it’s not just dusting and cooking—think insurance claims, medical care, mortgages, etc.).

Become financially savvy—how to save, invest, buy property, trade profitably. And be serious about investing your single years in the lives of others. You may long for a date yourself, but if you think long and hard about Satan’s assault on families today, you will realize that it is very important to do what you can to shore up the families in your local church. As families go, so goes the church. So volunteer to care for other people’s children so that these couples can have some time together to build their marriages. In doing so, you are being strategic about the spiritual battles that are taking place all around you. Your spiritual adversary wants to see marriages ruined, families broken, the church maligned, and people hurt. Do what you can to stand in the gap as a wise woman of God.

Jenn: Being single yourself, have you ever found it difficult to practice hospitality? How about childcare? Are there any practical solutions?

Carolyn: Yes, of course. There are always time and money constraints. But if you study the hospitality commands in Scripture, you’ll see that there is a missional focus to hospitality. We can be sidetracked by the HGTV/Martha Stewart marketing machine and forget that it’s not about us, our possessions, or our decorating style. It is about making someone else feel prized and cared for, whether you are having them over for coffee or a weeklong visit. The goal is to build them up for ministry purposes or to share the gospel. Fellowship is the motivating reason. And that includes how you approach childcare – it’s an investment in the next generation, not a chore.

As for practical tips, I think one useful idea is to trade off with someone else. I once had a housemate who was into hospitality. So we would be each other’s kitchen help for various events—or we’d throw parties together. I’ve also held joint dinner parties with other friends, where we shared the guest list and food duties. And don’t forget: being hospitable is a great way to “audition” for single men. HA HA HA! Okay, that’s a joke. But there’s still some truth in it!

Jenn: If you could give single women just one word of advice, (okay, not literally!) what would that advice be?

Carolyn: One word: Pray. Seriously. I’ve seen the Lord move in many merciful ways as single women have prayed. I have been a part of several prayer groups where single women prayed that the single men in their churches would find wives (hopefully among the women already there!), that God would bring new single men to the church, and for God to bring their husbands. One time, I did a count and I would say that on average, about 70 percent of each group eventually ended up married. And that is women of all ages, sizes, and ethnic backgrounds! And for the rest of us who are still single, we have had a small part to play in seeing the Lord’s will unfold and that’s a joy, too!

Jenn: Now for fun: if you were stranded on a desert island and could only bring four items with you, what items would they be?

Carolyn: Uh, oh. Now here comes the truth! I’d like to be all impressive and stuff, but to be honest, it would be: 1) my iPhone, loaded up with games, movies, and music; 2) 70 SPF sunscreen; 3) a great DSLR camera; and 4) the ESV Study Bible. I might trade one of those out for a water purification kit if I were sensible. Of course, my iPhone would be useless within 24 hours if there’s no connection and no electricity. But that goes to show you how much of an addict I am!

Carolyn McCulley is the author of two books, Radical Womanhood: Feminine Faith in a Feminist World, and Did I Kiss Marriage Goodbye? Trusting God with a Hope Deferred. Carolyn is also a contributor to Sex and the Supremacy of Christ, edited by John Piper and Justin Taylor, and to Focus on the Family's Boundless webzine. She is a frequent conference speaker for women's ministry events and also maintains a blog, Radical Womanhood.

Led.

2009-11-01T19:26:00.012-05:00

Just outside the window where I sit to write, there is a spider's web stretching from one corner of the frame to the other. Last night was windy and most of the ancient pecan trees around the house lost their leaves. As they fell, some of the leaves stuck in the silvery strands of the web. I sit here this afternoon, watching them shake back and forth in the breeze, looking like they're caught, suspended in mid-air. They are yellow leaves, and the last few rays of sun glint off of them as they toss about.

The seasons are changing and so am I. The way I look at things; the way I handle stress and disappointment, betrayal, anxiety, and change. But the more I understand my purpose here on earth, the less any of it matters. I'm here for God's glory. When faced with the tumult, I have merely to ask, "Does this glorify my Savior?" And if not, it is excess. It is His to contend with for me. I give it to Him, gladly.

God's glory is what I exist for -- what I was created for. So, in the eternal sense, nothing that happens really matters except that He receives what He justly deserves. Death and separation and bottomless hurt can happen (in fact, it does -- every day), but as Elisabeth Elliot says, "We can pray with perfect confidence, 'Deliver us from evil,' knowing that He may hurt us, but He will never harm us." Because what is intended by Satan for harm, God uses for good -- for His glory.

His glory. Us. So feeble, so ill-equipped to do what we ought, but asked to try anyway. It is my highest calling to be a disciple of Christ -- an instrument to bring Him glory. In this season of my life, it's the only thing that isn't absolutely meaningless to me. I want to walk worthy of being called His daughter.

Two nights ago, I staffed the Compassion International table at a Michael W. Smith concert and as I worked, I met a man who shared his testimony with me. After only a few minutes of conversation, I asked him how he became involved with Compassion's ministry. He explained that he'd been in two accidents within the last several years -- both resulting in severe, traumatic injury: brain injury, a shattered hip, leg and foot, third-degree burns -- he said that just a few months ago, he wasn't even expected to live after a failed bungee jump.

"How about the first accident?" I asked, wondering what all of this really had to do with Compassion.

"I hate when people ask about that one," he said. "I hate to make people cry."

I didn't know what to say, so I waited.

He watched the ground as he continued. "I was driving home one day -- my three kids were in the car and I guess I was tired -- I'm not sure how it happened. I just nodded off and.... My nine-year-old and my eleven-year-old were killed in that accident. This arm [he held out his left arm that was horribly scarred and disfigured] was burned down to the bone. For the second time, I suffered severe brain injury and was in the ICU for months. Now, I have one child -- my daughter -- left. I began sponsoring two Compassion children in honor of the two I lost. Now, I sponsor six."

He was right. I cried.

The Lord is our Shepherd. We can trust where He leads us. While often, we do not understand His ways, we understand that He is perfect and He does all things well.

When His green pastures look more like whitewashed hospital halls, an empty crib, an untouched pillow on the other side of the bed -- a terminal diagnosis, or the prospect of a future without the one you truly love, He is there. With His rod and His staff, He comforts us -- He prepares a table before us -- even in the presence of those who would seek to destroy us.

Deliver us from evil. We pray this with confidence, knowing that through our God -- our Savior, Father, and friend -- we can do valiantly.

And we will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

Guy Questions.

2009-10-09T13:46:00.003-04:00

Are you in a relationship? Or are you seeking to be? When you meet someone you're attracted to, it's sometimes hard to be discerning. Here I've put together a list of questions that might be useful to ask yourself before engaging in a committed relationship. It is by no means exhaustive, but please take from it what you can. It's written to girls, but hopefully guys can benefit from it as well.

--Does he let you talk? Or does he monopolize the conversation?

--What are the things he compliments you on?

--Does he take leadership in your relationship? Does he help make your relationship Christ-centered?

--How does he spend his spare time?

--How does he handle money? Does he tithe? Budget? Is he a saver? Spender?

--Has he set specific (and realistic) goals for himself? (His future?)

--How does he treat other girls he comes in contact with?

--What are his views on TV/movies? Is this a big part of his life?

--How do other guys react to him?

--How does he speak of his parents? Does he respect their advice? Would he ask them for it?

--How does he react to a disappointment?

--Does he give in easily to peer pressure?

--How are his personal grooming/hygiene habits? Does he spend too much time? Too little?

--Is he employed (or actively seeking to be)?

--What kinds of things does he laugh at?

--Do his eyes wander during your conversations?

--Does often look at/comment on other girls?

--Has he ever pressured you to do something you weren't comfortable with?

--Is he chivalrous?

--Is he willing to admit it when he's made a mistake? (Is he willing to apologize?)

--Is he truthful?

--Has he been in past relationships? What contributed to the breakup?

--Does he keep a daily schedule?

--Is he usually early? Late? On time?

--Does he have higher standards (or expectations) for you than for himself?

--Does he walk the talk?

--Does he make time to invest in the lives of others? (Helping the elderly; mentoring/befriending a child.)

--Does he spend excess time, mindlessly surfing the Internet?

--Does he deny himself anything? (What? And why?)

--What is his attitude towards children? Does he ignore them? Have no patience with them?

--What is he most passionate about?

--Do you find it more difficult to follow Christ when you're with him?

--Does he follow through with his resolutions? Or is he always apologizing and doing it again?

--Does he have any addicting habits? Does he drink? Smoke? How much? What for?

--Is he a people-pleaser?

--Does he adjust standards to his benefit in a given situation? Does he change standards/behavior depending on which group of friends he's with?

--Is he bold about his faith?

--How does he prioritize? What (in all honesty) kinds of things are at the top of his list?

--Does he go into debt easily? What are his views on borrowing?

--Are there things about him you absolutely could NOT live with?

--In what ways (and to what extent) does he commit to a life of purity, propriety, and circumspect behavior?

--Is he an attention-getter? A show-off?

--Is he only happy when he has an audience?

--Does he try to justify wrong behavior?

--How does he speak of/treat your parents? Siblings?

--Does he have more female friends than male friends?

--Is he flirtatious? How does he regard flirting? Is it something he intentionally guards against?

--Does he set aside a specific time to pray/read/study his Bible every day?

--Does he pray with you?

--Does he love God more than he loves you?

Finally Home.

2009-10-08T11:54:00.010-04:00

I love piano music. I always have. Not piano music enhanced by strings or brass or percussion, necessarily. Just piano music.

When I sit down to write each day, I'll automatically flip through my iTunes player, in search of a few good songs to put in a playlist. When I've selected them, I'll put the playlist on repeat and get to work. Some music is just really conducive to writing. Some music? Not so much.

There's a new song on iTunes that I'm really excited about. You probably haven't heard of the artist (this is about to change) but his music is excellent. The artist's name is Theo MacMillan. The song? Finally Home.

Raw talent is a rare thing to come by these days. I'm not kidding when I say that it takes a while to sell me on new music. But true talent? I notice. I fell in love with Finally Home for that very reason. (In fact, I've had it on repeat for the past hour that I've been writing.) The guy's got talent.

Finally Home is a simple, yet complex, piano ballad. Soft and reflective at times -- dramatic and sweeping at others. It has a clean and meditative quality -- and while it's sober in places, it's also incredibly fun. Just when you think you can predict the next twist, it rolls in a completely different direction.

If a song is worth a thousand words (and this one is -- at least) it must also be worth listening to. But don't just take my word for it. Visit your iTunes store and look up Finally Home by Theo MacMillan. You won't regret it.

Towns.

2009-10-07T18:06:00.006-04:00

Once upon a time, there lived two couples—both in search of the perfect place to live. As they entered their first prospective town, they came across an old man, whittling on his doorstep.

“What kind of town is this?” they asked the man. “Is it a nice place to live? What are the people like?”

He set down the wood he was whittling and squinted up at them. “That depends,” he said. “What kind of town are you moving from? What were those people like?”

“Oh, the people back there in our old town were terrible. All they ever did was gossip and complain. And they were constantly nosing into our business! I can’t wait to move and be rid of all of them.”

The old man studied them for a moment before picking up his project again. “I think you’ll find this town to be exactly the same,” he said.

Not long afterwards, the second couple approached the old man’s doorstep—their questions almost identical to the first couple’s: “What kind of town is this? Is it a nice place to live? What are the people like?”

“That depends,” the old man replied. “What kind of town are you moving from?”

“Oh, the people there were wonderful. You’ll never meet a more kind and loving bunch of people. They invested so much into our lives. We can hardly bear to leave them when we move.”

“Actually,” the old man said. “I think you’ll find this town to be astonishingly similar. It may take a week or two to get warmed up, but you’ll find these people to be quite open and good-hearted and loving too.”

* * * *

You know, I love this story, no matter how many times I’ve heard it (and its many variations) before. It really hits home! It’s hard to admit (but often quite true) that the people around us reflect our attitudes right back at us.

What kind of town do you live in?

Creativity.

2009-10-06T23:49:00.003-04:00

I’ve always loved crafts. When I was a kid, I’d go on these massive craft-making stints. I’d churn out hand-stitched quilt squares in startling quantities (one set of squares in particular were designed as part of a potential money-making scheme that never quite got off the ground) or cross-stitched pillows or wall samplers. You name it; I’ve probably tried it—or wanted to try it.

Later, throughout my teen years, I’d pick up a project here and there, but my creativity was mainly limited to my writing projects and blog projects. Occasionally, I found a cross-stitch project to contend with. Yet eventually, that passion almost flickered out.

Or so I thought. Maybe these things never truly die: they just get buried? I’m beginning to think so.

This past weekend, I was in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. There are some really neat fabric stores up there and I just so happened to be visiting one. Directly inside the door was a massive bin of leather scraps priced at a dollar a piece. For some reason, I couldn’t walk past it. In fact, I spent the next forty-five minutes digging through the bin, examining the leather: the texture, the color, the scent, the resiliency. I didn’t know why, but I suddenly really, really wanted to begin a project that involved leather.

I thought of wallets. But that seemed too complicated. After all, I’d never worked with leather before. At all. And wallets would likely involve a lot of complicated cutting and stitching. Then I thought of a belt or a gun holster or a knife pouch for one of the little guys in my life. Nothing seemed quite right, though. I was getting disappointed. I needed this leather for something. I was convinced of it!

Then, it jumped out at me: a particularly unique piece of leather—deep ochre, with lots of texture. Soft, yet firm, on the inside, and wrinkled and serious on the outside. And in that moment, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with it. With all of it.

Journals! And suddenly, each new piece of leather represented a different kind of journal. One would be small and neatly bound—convenient for jotting down quick notes or adding up a grocery bill. Another would be large and buckle-bound with creased pages and match-burned edges. Another would be soft and blue—flexible—and just the right size to slide into a purse or carry alongside another book for note-taking.

I limited myself to six unique pieces of leather. Each with plenty of character and potential. Then, I spent the next day or two reading about leather crafting and the different tools I would need to attempt such a project as book-binding.

Then, there was the issue of paper. I didn’t want to fill my neatly-bound journals with just any old cardstock. My first thought was rice paper. It was fun to work with and fairly easy to push an upholstery needle through. But it was rather prohibitively expensive for such a fly-by-night project—probably not the best choice until I was actually more experienced in the art of leather-working.

Then I thought, “Why not make my own paper?”

So. That’s where my project stands. As I type, I have about a pound of clean, white cotton boiling on the stove. Tomorrow, I’ll add a solution of sodium hydroxide to the mix. That will (theoretically) make the fibers of the cotton break down and separate more easily (it will also remove any residual dirt or possible staining in the fabric). Within three or four hours of boiling in the caustic soda solution, I should be able to transfer the boiled fiber to a blender and mix it down to an even pulp.

I’m making my own frame for sifting the pulp. The frame is simple: about 13” by 10” (about 3” high) with a screen stapled firmly across one side. When the pulp is ready, I’ll fill the bathtub with several gallons of water and then blend in the cotton pulp (and whatever other fibrous material I get up the courage to stir in to give it more texture—silk? Mulberry bark? I can’t decide).

Once the pulp is blended into the water, I’ll slide the screened frame into the mix, shake it out beneath the surface so that the pulp falls in evenly, and then draw it upwards. While the water sifts out through the bottom, I’ll press a piece of felt (or another absorbent material) over the top of the wet paper, to press out any excess liquid. Then, I’ll flip the freshly-pressed sheet out of paper out onto another piece of felt and continue stacking each subsequent sheet between the felt until the pulp is finally diminished.

I still can’t decide which final-drying process to attempt. I’ll probably opt for the air-dry, then iron-over-foil method. We’ll see. Or maybe I’ll try a different drying method for each journal in turn.

I forgot how exciting it was to embark on a new project like this! I think the urge to shape and create is inborn in all of us. After all, we are made in the image of our God—and He is the ultimate Creator. He gave us the ability to imagine and dream and finally, construct.

Of course, He was always able to look at His creations and call them “good”. Who knows, in a few days, I may very well be kneeling beside the bathtub, crying my eyes out because I forgot to plug the drain before dumping my valuable pulp into the mix or something.

Let’s hope not!

Generations.

2009-10-03T19:44:00.026-04:00

Both Joshua grandparents and all the grandchildren were gathered around the dinner table tonight. Pop-Pop, at age 80, held little Jonathan, aged 13 months. 79 years between them. So much life; so much experience.

It was a lighthearted time. Not a time for reflection or for pondering the future. Instead, a time of laughter and celebration -- mainly of Jonathan's new little life. At our ego-inducing insistence, he ran through his entire repertoire of tricks: from his two-fingered snapping, to his collection of creative animal noises (not many 13-month-olds can switch off between and a wolf and a tiger like he can. We made him keenly aware of that fact by our enthusiastic applause.).

In the midst of the excitement and hilarity, however, I still managed to notice something I hadn't noticed before. I am not a separate entity from my extended family. Not just by means of my appearance either. (I'm beginning to look more and more like both sides of my extended family.) But somehow, I've also inherited mannerisms, methods, pet peeves. The list is almost endless.

Okay. For one thing, my grandmother keeps her house really clean. I hadn't noticed that before. Why? Probably because I got the "clean bug" from my mom's side of the family too. I grew up in a clean house. My surroundings have always been painfully clean. Clean and neat. This time, I noticed it. And was thankful.

My grandmother is also a workaholic. (So are all my grandparents, actually. And my parents. In the best possible way.) She has this reputation for making massively-massive meals with several main dishes. (Think at least six here.) She'll have three or four on the tables, along with sides, when everyone is first seated for prayer. But after the "amen," she's up and bustling again.

I'm positive -- she doesn't touch her plate until everyone's had fourths at least. She cooks, she serves, she refills dishes, she serves again.

During dinner, I leaned over to my sister and whispered, "I think we come by it honestly," and she laughed.

So, it's finally happening. I'm beginning to see reflections of myself in the vast array of family spread out before me. Growing up (and throughout my teen years), I assured myself that I loved my family, but I was very different from them. I would never be like any of them when I grew up. Yet, somehow, at the end of the day, (when I'm mostly grown up--or doesn't that ever truly happen?) I'm not so very unlike them at all.

And, on top of it all, somehow, I'm kind of really thankful for all they've given me.

I think I've taken the whole Godly heritage thing for granted. Both of my grandfathers were pastors. Which, by default, meant that both of my parents were PKs. I was steeped! Like, seriously steeped. I was the kid who prayed the prayer at five years old and was memorizing entire chapters of the Bible before I was out of elementary school.

I knew the right things to say. I knew the gospel. I knew how to lead someone to the Lord. When I was five, I used to hand out New Testaments to the other kids my age and tell them how to "ask Jesus into their hearts". I knew the routine. No one could dispute it.

As I grew older, however, I realized that my family had something different from what I had. There was heart behind the things that they did. They didn't do the things they did because of how they looked, or how it made other people feel, or what it gave them in return. They did it because they loved the Lord.

I was like one of those people who tell the "Well, I talked to a guy who knew the woman who delivered papers to the person who used to be the foot surgeon of Bill Clinton's neighbor when Bill was five."

I was constructing "wow" stories for how I was best buddies with Jesus, but somehow, when it all spilled out, it wasn't so impressive after all. Anyone listening could tell in an instant that there was no reality behind it. For sure, nothing tangible.

My family changed that.

Grandpa Joshua loves the Lord with all his heart, soul, strength and mind. Everything, somehow, is an object lesson -- an arrow pointing back to Christ. The oddest and most frustrating of circumstances remind him of hymns that he will sing with the utmost abandon. Through all kinds of trials, he has remained staunchly committed to the Lord and to the people he serves. That's an example I can trust. That's an example I can try to follow.

And Grandpa Owens.... He is the most impressive example of a man who has learned to die to self. (That I know to this day. Really.) Not only did he father, nurture, and disciple 9 children (without thinking of his own needs), but he was always a man of high and self-forsaking conviction. Saying "no" to himself and his own desires was something he did--not because it was easy (when is that ever easy?)--but because he knew it was what his Lord required of him if he were to lead a Godward life. You'll never hear him indulge in careless joking or sarcasm or unprofitable conversation. His desire is that the Lord's will would be made evident in every aspect of his being. Nothing in his life, conversation, character, or conduct has ever led me to believe otherwise.

And so, I am blessed. I have a Godly heritage. I am reaping the things that my grandparents and their grandparents have sowed. Excellent things.

Did I have any say in the matter? No.

Do I deserve it? I couldn't. Not in a thousand lifetimes.

And yet, the Lord was pleased to grant it to me. Why? Maybe because I have a responsibility to my children and to the generation that will come after them. I don't take that responsibility lightly.

And maybe--just maybe--someday, I'll be that 80-year-old grandparent, rocking my little grandchild on my lap and another granddaughter, sitting across the table will be reflecting on her life.

And maybe--just maybe--she'll write a blog post like this.

Excuses.

2009-10-02T22:36:00.003-04:00

Do you make excuses for yourself?

I do. Kind of a lot.

The other day, I was out somewhere. There was someone I knew I should talk to—or at least say "hi" to. And I didn't. "I didn't have the time." "They were busy talking to so-and-so." "It wouldn't make any difference to them whether I did or not."

Regardless, I didn't do it.

I'm becoming a firm believer in calling things by their name. Instead of convenient masks like, "They were busy," how about, "I didn't want to," or, "I just don't like them"? The more honest I am with myself, the more uncomfortable I am likely to be with my shortcomings. And the more likely I am to change.

What do you make excuses about? And, more importantly, what are you going to do about it?

Idols.

2009-09-24T16:15:00.005-04:00

Do you have an idol?

I’ve had a few. Still do, in fact. From a distance, certain idols can look like wonderful things. They come disguised in all shapes and sizes—some of mine certainly looked praiseworthy. But they weren’t.

When I was fourteen, 5’5” and 110 pounds, I was convinced that I was overweight. Or at least, underfit. Do all girls go through that stage? Probably. In one form or another.

Those of you who know me now will laugh when I say I counted calories and spent a good hour and a half (at least) every day, exercising to burn off excess calories and “fat”. I followed a fat-free diet for a time, too—priding myself in all the creative ways I’d learned to cook without butter, oil, and other “nasties”.

Then the exercise. It all began in moderation. I found a beginner’s level Pilates program and stuck to it dutifully, exercising for half an hour to forty-five minutes a day. But the more I progressed—moving from the intermediate to the advanced program—the longer and longer I would spend until I was exercising for nearly two hours every day.

Crunches, of course, were the ultimate test of endurance in my book. I worked up to 104 in one stretch. I couldn’t have been more proud of myself. It was difficult—and I’d done it!

My dedication to running was unmatched. Even on the hottest days of the summer (think 97 degrees here) you could find me outside, tirelessly tracing laps around our five-acre property.

Exercise had become my religion. I convinced myself that I was doing it to be healthy. To teach myself discipline and self-control.

And the discipline was excellent. I’ve never had to regret that aspect of it. (It’s still a little hard for me to imagine how I found the time to exercise for that long every day, though! Especially in the midst of highschool.) But thoughts of fitness and perfection consumed me. Books on Pilates, health, and exercise were my choice reading material. Every time I went to the library, I checked out stacks of books on the subject.

That’s all I noticed about other people—how fit they were, and whether or not their calves jiggled when they took a step. (I’m not kidding.) I judged them by it, too.

Anything we put over God is an idol. Now, exercise has moved from the forefront of my priorities, but there are still other things that take preeminence over my relationship with my Heavenly Father. Even just my commitment to my daily schedule. It’s good to be on time—no one said it wasn’t—but when I’m running and running and never making time to talk to God—or when I put my schedule before other people—it’s no longer commendable.

God never said, “I’d like it if you’d use the leftover minutes at the end of the day to spend some time talking to me.” No! The command is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, your soul, your strength, and your mind. That’s kind of a tall order! And it demands that we put Him first—in every area of our lives. Which might mean giving up an exercise program or a music or game habit (you fill in the blanks!) in order to spend time with Him. Is it worth it? Absolutely!

For me, sometimes that means less sleep. Sometimes, it means putting aside a novel or turning off my music for a couple minutes. Or maybe it means a shorter phone conversation with a friend. Small sacrifices. But all done to ultimately make God the central focus of my life.

What are your idols?

Direct My Heart

2009-09-21T12:20:00.003-04:00

“Grant, O Lord my God, that I may never fall away in success or in failure; that I may not be prideful in prosperity, nor dejected in adversity.

“Let me rejoice only in what unites us, and sorrow only in what separates us. May I strive to please no one or fear to displease anyone except Yourself.

“May I seek always the things that are eternal and never those that are temporal. May I shun any joy that is without You, and never seek any that is beside You.

“O Lord, may I delight in any work I do for You and tire of any rest that is apart from You. My God, let me direct my heart towards You, and in my failings, always repent with a purpose of amendment.”
- St. Thomas Aquinas -

The Secret.

2009-06-03T18:15:00.005-04:00

The other morning, I was reading through Elisabeth Elliot's devotional book, "Keep A Quiet Heart" and this quote jumped out at me:

“God came down and lived in this same world as a man. He showed us how to live in this world, subject to its vicissitudes and necessities, that we might be changed----not into an angel or a storybook princess, not wafted into another world. The secret is Christ in me, not me in a different set of circumstances.”

And again, I realized: Anything good that comes out of our lives is because of Him and Him alone. Not us. Or even us in changed circumstances! Jesus Christ set an example when he walked this earth as a man, but we can only perservere with the strength and guidance He lends us each new day.

And for that, I am truly grateful!

Filled.

2009-05-12T12:29:00.005-04:00

“So that’s why I felt so dry!”

I’m training to become a volunteer client advocate at our local pregnancy center. Last night, when I attended the first session, I was fully prepared to hear statistics on abortion, learn proper counseling approaches and techniques, and be given specific case-by-case scenarios to work through.

Nothing of the sort. Not yet.

I was rather humbled.

Instead, we discussed how to prepare our own hearts in order to more effectively reach the hearts of our clients. The example was given of a large, glass pitcher, sitting on a shelf, smudged with dirt and grime, filled with junk and cobwebs. No one could use the pitcher without doing some major scrubbing out and filling first!

Once all the junk was scrubbed and scraped and rinsed out of the pitcher, it was shiny and clean....but it was still empty! You can only go for so long on empty! God works despite us—whether we allowed ourselves to be filled or not—but in order to be the most effective minister, we need to be asking Him to clean and fill us every single day, instead of giving leftovers to our clients—all the stale and stagnant things saved up from yesterday.

When we take that time to sit at His feet, to delight in His Word, and grow in the wisdom and knowledge of Him, we won’t just be filled. We will be spilling over onto everyone we come in contact with!

Morning Prayer.

2009-04-19T22:16:00.005-04:00

I collect prayers. Especially ones like this. It is one my favorites: a prayer for every morning.

"Almighty God, we bless and praise Thee that we have wakened to the light of another earthly day; and now we will think of what a day should be. Our days are Thine, let them be spent for Thee. Our days are few; let them be spent with care.

"There are dark days behind us: forgive their sinfulness. There
may be dark days before us: strengthen us for their trials. We pray Thee
to shine on us this day -- the day which we may call our own.

"Lord, we go to our daily work; help us to be faithful in doing
it. Let all we do be well done, fit for Thine eye to see. Give us
strength to do, patience to bear; let our courage never fail.

"When we cannot love our work, let us think of it as Thy task and by our
true love to Thee, make unlovely things shine in the light of Thy great
love.

"Amen. "

-George Dawson (1821-1876)-

Clutter.

2009-04-10T14:39:00.008-04:00

It’s amazing how complicated our lives have become, all in the name of simplicity.

So, you want to have a quiet time. Walk into any Christian bookstore or gift shop and you will find yourself instantly inundated with a million devices to help you jump-start or enhance your personal time with the Lord.

Electronic hand-held Bibles, anyone? Perfect for Bible-reading on-the-go. (Work-bound fathers, stuck in post-Starbucks-run, mid-rush-hour-traffic come to mind here.) Or better yet, ditch the handheld Bible—how about a Biblezine? Perfect for teens, a Biblezine is complete with topical articles, all “relevant” to today’s culture (as well as full-color illustrations, quizzes, tips, and lifestyle features appealing directly to the age group specified on the top right-hand of the cover).

But, if the “Bible magazine” look is a little beyond the realm of your appreciation, why not try a “Clearly-U” Bible? Because, guess what? You get to choose the cover from a variety of innovative, chic designs! Kids, especially, will love it.

Moving on. Devotional books, everyone? And I do mean everyone. Here we have devotionals and study books for the unmarried, the newly married, the “I’m-tired-of-being-married”, and the “I-don’t-intend-to-marry”. How about for expectant mothers? Frustrated mothers? Single mothers? Dieting mothers? Teenage mothers? Mothers of teenagers? Don’t forget the devotional books for pet-lovers, sports-lovers, gardeners and graduates!

And in case you’re feeling a little lost after 40 purposeful days, you may want to reinforce your spiritual stability with a book on how to reclaim your best life at the time when you want it most (no personal axe to grind here, of course). Or, better yet: how to make Jabez’s age-old prayer ‘fresh’ in your life again.

I digress.

The point is, we have too many choices. What was once offered in the name of simplicity, is now threatening to steal that very gift from us.

The other day, I sat down to read my Bible and in passing, thought how nice it would be to have a One-Year Bible that laid out my reading plan for me. Then, I wondered whether there was one published in my favorite translation. I vaguely speculated on the design of the book—whether it was aesthetically pleasing and whether or not the typesetting would be easy on the eyes. Would there be a study guide? Maybe one for single girls like me? Single girls who—

I stopped short.

My quiet time, in its truest, barest, most honest form, is this:

God. His Word. Myself.

Nothing more.

The extras are helpful (because of course there are some incredible resources available today which should not be discounted by any means) but they are not an end in themselves.

Quiet time begins and ends with the relationship: and until we have that established, no amount of consumer appeal, dressing up the Gospel, fancy gadgets, or relevancy is going to make it any better, easier, or pretty.

So. Is God’s Word for every Christian? Can we understand it in all of its glorious depth and richness? Do we truly need relevancy and fresh perspectives in order to seek and understand His will in our lives?

Those who ask will have it given to them. Those who seek will also find. And to those who knock, the door will be opened to them. Then we can truly echo the Psalmist when he says,

“O, how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day!”

God. His Word. Myself.

Here. Eternity.

Simple, really.

Rainfall.

2009-04-01T16:04:00.005-04:00

It’s been a while since I’ve done any real blogging. And I’m not sure why. Compared to this time last year, I’ve certainly journaled more than ever.

I’m sitting by the window, looking out across the meadow as I type this. Yesterday was sunny and warm around the edges, but today is overcast and drizzly. And still, it’s all so beautiful. So big, so open. So wet.

Leaves are beginning to show. If I squint carefully at the bare trees in the far, far distance, I can see a distinctly greenish haze around them. And soon, the flowers will bloom.

I love to walk through the rain with my head tilted up towards the sky. There’s something about staring into an incomprehensibly deep sky (whether it’s blue or black or white or grey) and feeling the rain fall across your face. It doesn’t have to be warm and gentle. Not always.

Rain is magnificent. It’s rushing and sweeping and blinding and cooling and cleansing and altogether wonderful. I want to run through it. I want it to clean the world and usher in all the changes that are waiting just around the corner. I want to imprint it all into my memory. I want it to fall and keep falling until everything is green and bright again.

Dear Today,

You are beautiful.
The Lord made you;
I will rejoice and be glad!

Love, Jenn

Steve Pruitt: Living Your Worship

2009-03-05T13:38:00.010-05:00

Author, worship leader, and pastor, Steve Pruitt has been ministering in congregational, small group and conference settings since 1982. His three books are available for download on his co-founded website: Just Worship. To learn more about Steve’s ministry, please visit his personal website.

JENN: You’ve written a book called, “The Ingredients of Worship”. What is unique about your view of worship?

PRUITT: Well, I don’t know how unique my view is, but my goal for the book was to use some personal experiences as well as a good biblical foundation to convey the message that worship is much more than what takes place on Sunday morning, Wednesday evening or whenever believers choose to gather.

Activity does not constitute worship. On the other hand, worship is expressed through activity. The activities of church become worship only when one’s life has been totally consecrated to God. We exist for God. No amount of outward expression – be it singing, clapping, shouting, preaching, feeding the hungry or cleaning the sanctuary – can add up to a demonstration of worship if our lives are more consumed with us than with him. He must be our one true passion.

My view of worship is that it begins before the music starts or the preacher preaches. It begins with a daily intimate relationship with Jesus Christ. He must be the first love of our life and doing his will must the priority of our life. Love is the fuel of true worship and obedience is the gauge by which love is measured.

JENN: You’ve said that worship is a way of life, not just an emotional experience. Most people seem to consider worship mainly as an emotional experience. What is the Biblical support for your definition of worship?

PRUITT: First, let me say that the root of worship is grounded in emotion; love. You cannot read through the scriptures, especially the Psalms, and draw the conclusion that worship is emotionless. Emotions are part of our make-up as created beings. However, mere emotional expressions do not constitute true worship.

Paul wrote in Romans 12:1; "I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service." (NKJV) So, our reasonable act of service (which can be translated worship) is to present our bodies to God, one, a living sacrifice, two, holy and three, acceptable. Paul went on to say, "And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." (Romans 12:2)

True worshipers desire to be conformed into the image of Christ and to see the fruit of the Holy Spirit produced in their life. Apart from this desire a person can express a wide range of emotions or have a deep emotional experience without having worshipped.

JENN: You’ve said the Holy Spirit is the one who directs us in worship. Can you explain this?

PRUITT: I believe the Holy Spirit directs us in worship in two ways; inwardly and outwardly. First, he produces the fruit of the Spirit in our lives. As we allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives by convicting us of sin and leading us into all truth, we mature as believers and become Christ-like. The Holy Spirit helps us to understand the will of God and gives us the necessary unction to be obedient to his word. Outward expressions of worship are validated by our willingness to submit to the inward work of the Holy Spirit.

Secondly, I believe that much of what takes place during worship services on Sunday mornings is geared more toward man than toward God. More often than not our programs get in the way of what God really wants to do among us. We are guilty of not allowing the Holy Spirit opportunity to express the heart of the Father.

The Holy Spirit knows the heart of the Father and how the Father desires to be worshiped. We should always be willing to lay aside our agendas in lieu of the Father’s. The Holy Spirit can help us to do that.

This interview was originally published in the February 2008 issue of TIYLmagazine ©.

Peace.

2009-02-07T00:18:00.000-05:00

Moments of silence. Of being still. Of knowing. Knowing that He is God. And that He alone can sustain us. It is only by hoping in Him and trusting that His will is perfect that we can have true peace.

It's a promise. And one that I'm clinging to with both hands. Life can be uncertain at times, but the Lord has promised good to us. We already know the end of the story! Trials can come - persecution can come (and for many of us, it has!) - we can feel hopeless and abandoned and rejected and passed by. But He. Is. Faithful.

When we lay down and sleep...we awake because the LORD sustains us! And for no other reason. The One who first created us, still keeps us alive.

And He will see us through.

Psalm 55:22 - "Cast your cares on the Lord - He will sustain you - and will never let the righteous fall..."

2 Corinthians 4:7-12 - " But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves; we are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not despairing; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying about in the body the dying of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body. For we who live are constantly being delivered over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death works in us, but life in you."

The Man I Prayed For

2009-01-24T01:30:00.000-05:00

This poem by Ruth Bell Graham is so close to my heart! I memorized it several years ago after listening to a lecture by Robin Jones Gunn (she quoted the whole thing and I scribbled it down on a scrap of paper as she talked!). It's one of those perfect, once-in-a-lifetime expressions of the heart. I couldn't have said it better if I tried!

Dear God, I prayed, all unafraid
(as we're inclined to do)
I do not need a handsome man
Oh...but let him be like You!

I do not need one big and strong
nor yet so very tall,
Nor need he be some genius
Or wealthy, Lord, at all;

But let his head be high, dear God,
and let his eye be clear,
His shoulders straight, whate'er his state,
Whate'er his earthly sphere.

And let his face have character,
A ruggedness of soul,
And let his whole life show, dear God,
A singleness of goal!

Then when he comes (as he will come)
with quiet eyes aglow,
I'll understand that he's the man
I prayed for long ago!

Free Music?

2009-01-13T12:17:00.000-05:00

-- You Don’t Need a Patch to be a Pirate --

It’s one of those issues we don’t like to think about. It’s not like we’re walking into a store and taking something off the shelf without paying for it. It’s only one mouse click away – and we’re not even leaving the comfort of our home to do it. Plus, it’s usually Christian music. That has to make a difference, right?

Justin Daniels certainly thought so. “I mean, I was downloading and burning like ten or twelve songs a week at one point to give to some of my unsaved friends. One of the guys liked the Christian music so much that he quit listening to his secular stuff. Seriously, if I’d had to buy all those CDs to give my friend, I could have easily spent a couple hundred dollars. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

Imagine his surprise when his youth pastor called it a sin to download songs from file-sharing sites. “I mean, I went home feeling so guilty,” Justin admitted. “Here I’d turned my friends onto some great Christian music, but I’d done it by stealing from the artists that made the music!”

So what did Justin do about it? Something many of us would probably never have the guts to do. He purchased some compilation CDs that showcased some of his favorite songs and artists and gave them to his friends – along with an apology. “They looked at me a little funny,” he confessed, “but I really think they had more respect for me as a fellow Christian when I explained why I was doing it.”

Justin is not alone. He is one of millions of other Christian teens who download songs illegally on a regular basis. According to a survey done by the Los Angeles Times, Christian teens are just as active in stealing and swapping music as their secular peers. Justin says he had always assumed artists were making hundreds of thousands of dollars anyway and he didn’t think it would make any difference if he downloaded a couple of their songs because “it wasn’t like they were going to lose money over it or something”.

Christian writer and musician, Mark Pettigrew says, “People who rip musicians off often justify their theft by saying that the musicians are already filthy rich anyway. That just shows their ignorance and the need to more effectively educate non-musicians about the realities of the music business. Yes, there are a few musicians who are extremely wealthy, but for every musician in that category, there are thousands of musicians, maybe even tens of thousands, who are forced to work at day jobs for which they are poorly suited because they cannot make a living doing what they love to do the most.“

Besides, even if it were true that all musicians were rich and that stealing from musicians made no appreciable difference [in record sales], the bottom line is still that stealing is stealing. There's nothing in the Ten Commandments to suggest that there's an exemption from the command "Thou Shalt Not Steal" in cases where one's victims are rich: Bill Gates is one of the richest men in the world. He probably makes more money in one hour than I make in one year. But it would still be wrong for me to steal from him.”

There is also a very practical side to this issue. As Christian singing group ZOEgirl put it, "The availability of copying, uploading, and downloading CDs has severely affected the funds that are available to record, market and package the music we now make. People need to be educated on the fact that if piracy continues at the current rate, very soon there will simply not be the amazing music that is out there now."

Pettigrew continues, “When a musician asks for remuneration or requires it, he or she is not "charging people for the gospel" [as some seem to think]. He or she is charging money in order to recoup the costs of all the expensive music equipment people have come to expect during such performances. He or she is receiving reimbursement for the countless hours of unpaid hard work and practice which enable that musician to do what he or she does.”

Los Angeles Times columnist, Geoff Boucher reports, “In a Times entertainment poll this summer, teens were asked about downloading songs from an unauthorized file-sharing network. Among those who identified themselves as religious (of any faith), 63% said they would never do it. Among teens who did not describe themselves as religious, it was a similar proportion at 61%.”

“It’s sad to me that we’re not being the City on a Hill we were called to be. What kind of example is that anyway?” 16-year-old Sarah Clark asked in an online survey. “They think it’s somehow okay because it’s Christian music or because they’re giving good music to their unsaved friends---”

Which was Justin’s excuse exactly. “In my mind, it was like, ‘It’s Christian music anyway, and it made my friend quit listening to the secular stuff.’ It wasn’t just like I was giving away Christian music to unsaved friends and it was just sitting there. It was like, I gave this music to my friend and he completely quit listening to secular music because of it. I wasn’t just hoping for good results – I was getting them. But the fact that some good came out of it still can’t detract from the fact that I was stealing and that it was wrong.”

But does it feel like stealing? That does seem to be the question. For some reason, teens have a hard time making the issue of music piracy a moral issue – especially because the music is right there: it’s easily accessible, and... everybody else is doing it.“I have to admit, sometimes it’s really hard to buy songs off of iTunes when I know some friends who just downloaded the same song from Limewire for free or something,” Justin confesses. “And when I confront them about it, they always seem to have an armload of excuses about why it’s okay – it’s just crazy.”

23-year-old Nathan elaborated, “I've heard so many excuses from Christians saying why it's okay for them to download music online. Honestly, it doesn't matter whether you’re doing it to help a friend or if you wouldn't buy the CD anyway. And it doesn’t matter if you were thinking about buying the CD, but weren't sure, or if you downloaded the songs because you didn't have the money to buy them. Would you steal from a normal store for those reasons? There's no difference. It seems different because it's in the privacy of your home and because so many other people are doing it but the fact is -- between you and God -- it's wrong.”

“But sometimes it’s just plain hard to do the right thing,” Justin adds.

However, the fact still remains: as Christians we are called to live lives that are holy and blameless before God—and men. If it can start out with something as simple as paying for your music instead of just taking it, it’s still a baby step in the right direction.But baby-stepping is not always an easy task. “What difference is it going to make anyway?” we ask. I’m not sure. But, beyond the scope of making a difference, we will still be called to give an answer for the things we’ve done. If we want to be faithful in the big things, we need to be faithful in the small things too. Even if it means a few extra dollars spent.

So, the next time you’re online, consider stopping by iTunes or Napster and glancing through their music. Or, if you’re not able to spend the money, maybe you could stop by the MySpace pages of some of your favorite artists: they always give a great preview of their music – and it doesn’t cost anything just to listen. And, in the meantime, maybe you could also encourage your friends to think through the issue of music piracy.

Justin concludes, “It’s a lot of stuff to work through and conviction doesn’t always come overnight, but if we are true followers of Christ, we need to listen to His Spirit’s leading and do what we know is right – whether someone’s watching us or not.”

My thoughts exactly.

Faithfully

2009-01-11T22:32:00.000-05:00

This song by Eric and Leslie Ludy has been so special to me over the past two years. This is my prayer! I want to be found faithful and deserving of the man who some day captures my heart!

Tonight I saw a shooting star

Made me wonder where you are

For years I have been dreaming of you

And I wonder if you're thinking of me too

In this world of cheap romance

And love that only fades after the test.

They say that I'm a fool to wait for something more

How can I really love someone I've never seen before?

But I have longed for true love every day that I have lived

And I know real love is all about learning how to give

So I pray that God will bring you to me

And I pray you'll find me waiting faithfully

Faithfully, I am yours

From now until forever

Faithfully, I will write

Write you a love song with my life

'Cause this kind of love's worth waiting for

No matter how long it takes

I am yours

Faithfully

Tonight I saw two lovers kiss

Reminded me of my own loneliness

They say that I'm a fool to keep on praying for you

How's can I give up pleasure for a dream that won't come true

But I will keep believing that God still has a plan

And though I cannot see you now, I know that He can

And someday I will give you all of me

Until I find you, I'll be waiting faithfully

Christians...Actors?!

2008-12-29T10:53:00.000-05:00

Question: “I was wondering, is drama okay for a Christian? That is, can a Christian be an actor?”

Answer: Thank you so much for your question! You were wondering if it was all right for a Christian to participate in drama, or work as an actor. The answer is yes! Definitely! BUT (and I guess there always has to be one of those!), there are some certain standards we, as Christians, must uphold.

First of all, we are commanded to be IN the world, but not OF the world (John 15:19, John 17:14-16). 1 John 2:15 says, “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.”

As Christians, there are certain lines we can never cross. God’s Spirit cannot coexist alongside sin, so if we are introducing sin into our hearts and lives, and the Spirit of Christ is living in us, we are going to feel that inner tension of our consciences kicking in and rebuking us. We will feel guilt like no tomorrow if we are truly listening to the Spirit’s prompting about these issues. And on that note, when we accept Christ into our hearts, He gives us His Spirit to live in us and work through us as we grow in Him. He also gives us a conscience. This gift of conscience is a very important, very wonderful gift! But we need to maintain it carefully. If we begin to lower our standards of what is or is not acceptable to watch or participate in, our conscience begins to get numbed. And ultimately, if we ignore our consciences, eventually they will really numb down and we will grow more comfortable with sin and evil every day.

Did you know that if you place a frog in a saucepan of water and leave it to boil, the water will grow hotter and hotter, but the frog won’t try to jump out? The water temperature rises so gradually that the frog doesn’t notice a thing until it is too late. This ‘frog in hot water’ analogy can be applied to our consciences. The more we ‘steep’ ourselves in the things our conscience rebukes us about, the more tolerant we eventually become of evil. So, when the moral danger level is high, we don’t even notice because we’ve become so accepting of sinfulness!

However, if you listen to the prompting of the Spirit from the beginning, your conscience is strengthened. Thessalonians 5:19 says, “Do not quench the Spirit,” or (in other translations), “Do not put out the Spirit’s fire.” When you repeatedly ignore your conscience, you are putting out the Spirit’s fire.

This does not necessarily keep us from participating in drama or working as an actor, however. With movies (or the occupation of acting) there are some questions you must ask yourself... are these scenes you’re participating in honoring to God? Or are they violent or full of foul language and sensual images? What attitude or worldview does it portray? It’s not so much that the ‘act’ of acting that is objectionable, but rather the fact that so many movies and shows premiering these days are full of things that would probably fall under this admonition from Romans 16:19b: “Be innocent about what is evil.”

The more we give in, the more it all becomes a slippery slope – one that is best avoided at all costs. We want to cringe when evil things are before our eyes, not become slowly insensitive to all of it. We are called to live a life separate of all these things that lead to hate, rebellion, lasciviousness, vulgarity, and other sinful patterns.

There is a verse in 1 Corinthians 6:19 that says, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.” That can give aspiring actors something to think about. Our bodies are wonderful gifts from God. But that’s the bottom line. They belong to Him. They’re just given to us on a loan. So, by all means we must honor God with our bodies like 1 Corinthians says! Not just because it’s commanded for us as Christians, but because we love the Lord and want to please Him with our lives. In every area.

Above all, just remember that we are called to represent Christ. We obey His commands as an overflow of our love for Him. Bottom line.

Thanks again for your question -- may God bless you as you seek to follow Him!!

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8)

Hurry Up and Slow Down!

2008-12-27T13:48:00.000-05:00

Christmas Eve - 2008

Happy Christmas Eve to everyone! I was thinking how ironic it is that we spend so much time looking forward to Christmas, and then it goes by so fast! The ‘Countdown to Christmas’ begins unseasonably early every year, too. (Decorations in October? Even before Halloween?!)

And then...the big day arrives, and after the buzz and excitement of opening gifts is past, we’re thinking of our travel back home or the wrapping paper that needs to be discarded of somehow, or about New Year’s and our resolutions and whether or not we’ll be able to keep them. We’re always living with our minds set on the future! (Sometimes even trying to live IN the future!) Isn’t that kind of ironic? No matter what we’ve looked forward to, when we’re there, we’re thinking about the next thing!

In October, we got the chance to see Sarah Palin speak at a campaign rally. It was something we’d really anticipated, and we stood pressed up again the platform for close to three hours (or was it more?), waiting for her to come out. Then, when she finally did, I found myself wondering how long her speech would last, how long it would take us to find our way out of the crowded arena, if we could find our vehicle once we did, how long it would take to get out of traffic, if we could find a place to get something to eat on the trip home, and what time we would end up getting to bed that night. (And not because I have ADHD either! I don’t!)

It just truly amazes me how we are rarely ‘in’ the present. So many things I’ve not enjoyed, simply because I was already dreaming about what came next. On my daily schedule, I printed out Matthew 6:34 that says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself!” I’ve learned that even if we’re not wringing our hands and worrying about tomorrow, per se...it still is lessening our enthusiasm and effectiveness for TODAY because we’re dwelling on the next thing TOO much. We don’t need to worry about it! Any of these things! ...“About what you will eat or drink, or what you will put on for clothes”... When we refuse to be in the present, we end up being pretty ineffective in the future too.

Why can’t we slow down enough to enjoy the present...to its fullest? I wonder what our lives would be like if we did. Maybe there’s a way I can find out! Maybe I’ll try it this Christmas. Oh wait...that’s not until tomorrow, is it! :-)

Exceptional in the Ordinary

2008-12-26T11:59:00.000-05:00

Someone recently sent me this quote by Oswald Chambers. And I think it is something we all need to reflect on more than we do! Every day, every minute, we rely on the 'supernatural grace of God' to accept the 'drudgery' of being a disciple (yes, drudgery!). Think about it. Not every Christian is called to outwardly exceptional things...but we are called to be exceptional in the ordinary things. But how often do we really see it that way?

“Impulse is a trait in natural life, but Our Lord always ignores it, because it hinders the development of the life of a disciple. Watch how the Spirit of God checks impulse, His checks bring a rush of self-conscious foolishness which makes us instantly want to vindicate ourselves. Impulse is all right in a child, but it is disastrous in a man or woman; an impulsive man is always a petted man. Impulse has to be trained into intuition by discipline.

“Discipleship is built entirely on the supernatural grace of God. Walking on the water is easy to impulsive pluck, but walking on dry land as a disciple of Jesus Christ is a different thing. Peter walked on the water to go to Jesus, but he followed Him afar off on the land. We do not need the grace of God to stand crises: human nature and pride are sufficient, we can face the strain magnificently; but it does require the supernatural grace of God to live twenty-four hours in every day as a saint, to go through drudgery as a disciple, to live an ordinary, unobserved, ignored existence as a disciple of Jesus. It is inbred in us that we have to do exceptional things for God; but we have not. We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things, to be holy in mean streets, among mean people, and this is not learned in five minutes.”

What Kind of Friend Are You?

2008-10-20T20:09:00.000-04:00

"Friendship can take different turns--it can run like a river, quietly and sustainingly through life; it can erupt like a geyser, forcefully, and intermittently at times; or it can explode like a meteor, altering the atmosphere so that nothing ever looks, feels, or functions the same again."

--Ansel Adams (1902-1984)--

Jeromy & Jennifer are Coming Home

2008-10-09T13:17:00.000-04:00

When you listen to an album, sometimes the words sound great, but the artist just lacks the conviction or experience to make it sound heart-genuine. Not so with Jeromy & Jennifer’s new album, Coming Home. And it’s not just an album. It’s a journey. A journey from suffering to faith. From intense questioning to endurance and trust.

Jeromy & Jennifer have been through a lot over the past two years. From living in Africa for several months, to the birth of a new baby, an MS diagnosis and the disbanding of FFH, they’ve run the gamut of suffering, trust, and God’s enduring faithfulness. Life is different for them now. But, more importantly, they’re different. They’ve grown, they’ve learned, they’ve dealt with the hard issues and found peace in the midst of pain.

Coming Home doesn’t deal tritely with the object of suffering either. From the first verse of “Where Do I Go From Here”, “You brought me this far/Was it only to see me beg?/Was it only to get me to my knees/and then walk away?” to the chorus of “What it Feels Like”, which says, “This may not be the road I would choose for me/But it still feels right somehow/And I have never felt you as close to me/As I do right now/So this is what it feels like to be led”, this album gets right down to the tough issues with gut-level honesty. But it also never hides the theme of God’s faithfulness and grace through it all.

The star of the entire album, however, is probably the title track, “I’m Coming Home”. It has a folksy sound to it, and a great hook—all carried off Jennifer’s hallmark vocals. The lyrics go from frustration with the pointless competition and approval-seeking in the ‘System’, to a longing for something different and the relief of finally stepping back to see it all for what it is— ultimately realizing that ‘Home’ is a better place to be – at the feet of the Father, “Where I hear ‘Child, you are loved’/And I hear ‘Child, you are forgiven’/I hear ‘Child, I am so proud of what you’ve become’.”...

Through these various life experiences and the album that came out of it all, I think Jeromy & Jennifer truly have found Home. And I know they’re more than welcome there.

_____________
Songs of particular note:
I’m Coming Home
What it Feels Like (to be Led)
Stop the Bleeding
Where Do I Go From Here

Available on iTunes or at www.JeromyandJennifer.com

"I'm not God, I'm a Girl"

2008-10-03T19:12:00.000-04:00

All Right Here
Sara Groves

It's every loss and every love
It's every blessing from above
Here I am, all added up
Oh, it's all right here

It's what I know, and what I'm guessing
Half truths, and full confessions
It's why I choose to learn my lessons
Oh, it's all right here

And I'm not God, I'm a girl - I confess
That I don't have a sea of forgetfulness
No, it's all right here
It makes me stronger, it makes me wince
Makes me think twice when I pick my friends
Oh, it's all right here
It's all right here

It's caution and curiosity
And it's all the things I never see
Welling up inside of me
Oh, it's all right here

It's what is best, and what is worse
It's how I see the universe
It's in every line and every verse
Oh, it's all right here

Every heart has so much history
It's my favorite place to start
Sit down a while and share your narative with me
I'm not afraid of who you are

I'm all here, and you're all there
Some of this is unique, and some of it we share
Add it up and start from there
Well, it's all right here

Kabobs, Anyone?

2008-10-01T12:19:00.000-04:00

It was one of those afternoons you’re not sure are ever going to end. Or forget. There I stood by the table, a big bowl of raw, cubed chicken on one side, a bowl of chunked pineapple on the other, helping some of our small campers make kabobs. Maraschino cherry juice was running down both of my arms onto my elbows and my gloved fingers were sweating into the latex. It was almost 100 degrees in the house and yet we were packed shoulder to shoulder around the small table, so close that more than one person at the table was getting prodded with kabob sticks.

Welcome to day camp in Philly! We had 15 girls that week – every morning we picked them up and brought them to the Bible Clubhouse for a long, hot day packed with every activity imaginable. One day it was a trip to the city pool, then a picnic lunch on the bleachers nearby. Another day it was a cross-meadow tour of a historical site through tall, tick-infested grass. A hike through a shady spot of woods. A special trip out for ice cream cones. A day spent reading one-on-one by a river (never mind the rain!).

But now, the kabobs were being made for our end-of-the-week luau celebration at the Clubhouse. Part of the day’s activities included cooking and decorating for the dinner. Then, the girls were allowed to invite their moms to come eat with them so afterwards they could be treated to a performance of the songs and verses each girl memorized that week at camp. This was supposed to be followed by the awards ceremony.

Only one minor glitch. None of the moms showed up. Not even one. So after a few hurried phone calls, a few ladies who volunteered for the umbrella ministry offered to come to be ‘moms’ for the evening. My heart hurt so badly for those girls that night.

Thinking back on it now, I remember a good half an hour I spent on my hands and knees under that table before the luau, with a bottle of disinfectant spray and a pile of rags, trying to get raw chicken and sticky, pink fruit juice off the wood floor. I didn’t think I would ever get that place clean! I remember also thinking that if I didn’t get the table surface completely disinfected from the raw chicken, everyone was going to die from salmonella. It strikes me as ironic in retrospect that, as I worried about the girls getting food poisoning, I should have found a little helper somewhere and spent some quality time together with her as I cleaned.

Some things, I guess, are only learned in retrospect. I wonder what the girls remember from that night.

Creation's Applause

2008-03-24T21:56:00.000-04:00

It was windy today. It was supposed to be 70 degrees, but you know how it is when there’s a strong wind...it always feels several degrees colder. I washed my hair in the morning, then took a brisk walk down the lane... the wind snatched onto every bit of my hair and threw it over my face and around my shoulders as I walked. It was a beautiful feeling! I could throw my head back and see the endless blue sky through cracks in the overhanging tree branches. The branches formed a kind of arch over the lane and the brittle limbs were all rattling and rustling in the breeze as I passed underneath. When I thought about it, it sounded like a whole arena of people clapping. That’s it, I thought, God’s creations are applauding Him! He’s told us that if no one else praises Him, even the rocks will cry out in adoration – so why couldn’t the trees be clapping for their Creator?

The Lord is evident in all of Creation. The Psalms tell us, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the firmament shows His handiwork”... He has painted evidence of His love and power and infinite wisdom into every blade of grass, every upturned flower bud, every wispy white cloud. I can hardly comprehend it, yet it’s right there before my eyes: endless rolling meadows, hazy purple mountains, and towering green trees, all pointing upwards into the incomprehensible blue sky.

It’s more than I can fathom. But if I could fathom it, it would steal this wonder I feel – and how could I bear to lose that!

For the Dreamers

2008-03-03T16:20:00.000-05:00

I love to daydream and I’ll admit it’s a pleasant diversion from reality, but sometimes I get so set on a dream that when it slips away, I fail to see it was only a castle in the sky—a mere desire—and not a true conjecture of the future. Have you been there too?

In her book, A Path Through Suffering, Elisabeth Elliot gives her famous ‘open hands’ illustration, saying that open hands demonstrate the posture of surrender – a willingness to hand over what God wants to take and a willingness to receive whatever he chooses to place back in them. Clenched fists, closed tightly over our precious, hoarded dreams, don’t demonstrate an attitude of open surrender! I think we set too much store in our dreams. A good majority of us probably even cry when our treasured dreams turn to nightmares and slide out of our grasp. I know I certainly have!

Lately I’ve been taking even more comfort in the power of prayer and its gradual effect on my way of thinking. There was one dream in particular that I’d been treasuring for many months. At least once a day and sometimes more often, I would present my dream to the Lord and ask Him to reveal my motives for wanting it—then, I asked Him to close the doors that needed to be closed and only open the ones He wanted me to walk through. Lastly, I begged for the ultimate decision to be clear and easy. Every day, I dragged this burden to the throne of grace, until I got a long-awaited phone call. Let me say, I have never heard a door slam so loudly—I almost jumped! And not only did the door slam, the key turned decisively in the lock. Don’t you love those clear paths?!

I’ll admit I cried. I walked blindly through my room, seeing nothing, only saying “thank you, Lord” because I got exactly what I asked for—an easy decision. The sorrow wasn’t any less, but the length of mourning definitely was! Sorrow can’t last if we pray “Thy will be done” and really mean it. That simple prayer may not change our desires right away, but it will definitely adjust our outlook on the situation and ease the pain of the ‘acceptance stage’.

So, fellow dreamers, dream on and relish the pleasure, but remember to hold your dreams in open hands—wide open—ready and accepting of God’s plan, which is ultimately the perfect dream.

Worth Waiting For

2007-10-06T17:17:00.000-04:00

I want to be worth waiting for,
Lord, let me deserve my man
And whether I be rich or poor,
Give me strength of hands

I ask you for a smiling face
Pleasant as I grow old
I don’t ask for beauty outside
But for a heart of gold

Help my head be high,
And my thoughts be pure,
Give me peace of mind
And cleanliness of soul

A gentle spirit, God, that gives
When nothing’s to be found
That thinks not of itself, but lives
To wipe away a frown.

Let me believe the best of those
Who touch my life each day
And put regrets behind to know
This is the straight, the narrow way.

Though terror I may never choose
Guide me unfearful through the way
And help me see the things I lose
Are really blessings gained.

I want to be worth waiting for,
So help him patient be...
And if I’m worth it, Lord, I pray
You’ll help him know and see.