I tried all day to write something brilliant, but almost nothing came. What little that did come was rubbishy stuff I’ve been mulling over for the last 48 hours while I tried to purge my conscience of the guilt I was feeling at having exploded in a bratty tantrum on Saturday. Long story short: I had to apologize to my crazy, but well-meaning downstairs neighbor for stomping on the floor trying to get him to turn down his damn stereo.
And tonight, well, I’ve been doing laundry, watching television, learning to play a new song on my guitar and avoiding the homework that I absolutely have to finish. Maybe I’m rebelling against not getting a Spring Break this year for the first time in my life…who knows. I’ve also been reading everyone else’s blogs, searching for inspiration, hidden wisdom of ages that might possibly be revealed in all their musings….hmmm…
Maybe this will be one of those nights that I stay up late or don’t sleep at all; then I’ll turn on my closet light, which quite adequately serves as a reading light, and curl up with “A World History of Christianity” (ed. Adrian Hastings). I’ve been reading about the Christian history of Africa…mostly concerning Ethiopia so far. I figure the writer of that particular chapter wants to get all the African countries mentioned in the Bible out of the way first: Egypt…Ethiopia…(is Eritrea in the Bible?)
Maybe I’ll spend hours thinking about God and the future and what the hell I’m supposed to do with my life…or how that is an absurd question because I should just make a freakin decision, but then I’ll remind myself that I feel paralyzed when faced with more than one option.
Okay, this is getting ridiculous…I’m really going to do my homework now….REALLY!!!
I had dinner with a good friend last night that I haven’t seen in months. It was good to catch up. She’s a little down about things going on her life, and I’m always frustrated with things going on in my life. It’s like I live in a constant state of frustration. Anyway, she’s the kind of person I can work things out with. She sits and listens patiently to my ramblings and responds truthfully and lovingly to me, knowing exactly what I am getting at nearly all the time. It’s nice to be known so well.
This morning my research class was discussing poverty, wealth and injustice and I was thinking about why the poor and rich respond so differently to the gospel. Most would say it’s realized versus unrealized needs. The poor realize their need for God; the rich are often unaware. And then I was thinking about my friend and why I respond better to her than to many other Christians I know and something occurred to me.
Maybe it’s not that the rich are fulfilling their need for God with other things, but maybe, like Adam and Eve in the garden, they are hiding from God. The poor can be very humble, but can also be very aggressive and confrontational about their needs. Some stare in awe and wonder at those who beg for change, wondering “should I or shouldn’t I."
I wonder if I would have the guts to beg for crumbs and small change. There is such vulnerability and risk involved in being poor. But when you feel “secure” in your poverty, you’re working with no mask, no front. Maybe poverty is not so much about neediness, but about having nothing to hide behind. Think of it as having faith like a child. As we grow up we are taught to be secretive and phony, but as children, we have not built up all those pretenses. We are still sinful, but we wear our sin on the outside, rather than keeping it hidden.
And the peace I find sitting and sharing a meal and my heart with my friend is not in what I have to keep hidden, but the freedom I feel to share it all and beloved anyway.
“It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.” - Mother Teresa
On my way to work this morning, I noticed everyone reading the newspaper…on the bus, at bus stops, on the street corners…every newspaper had the same headline: “Bush Signs Schiavo Bill” (or some variation thereof). Maybe you’re familiar with this controversy about whether or not this woman (Terri Schiavo), who has been in a “persistent vegetative state” since 1990, should once and for all have her feeding tube removed. She would literally starve to death. She’s actually had this tube removed before, then it was put back, then removed again, then put back, and now removed for a third time. Her husband has been fighting for removal of the feeding tube since 1998, fighting against her family and the governor of Florida (Gov. Jeb Bush). Now he’s not only fighting against them, but also against the United States Congress, President Bush, and evangelicals everywhere.
On Friday, March 18, 2005 (the same day Terri Schiavo was having her feeding tube removed for the 3rd time) at 1:00am, a young college senior was killing himself. He was an undergrad student at the bible college I attend. All reports about this incident are brief and uninformative, except to say that he “believed it necessary to take his own life;” and that no one really knows why - not even the dean who’d met with the young man only a week prior to his suicide to talk about the student’s future plans.
The irony of the situation is not lost on me. While hundreds of thousands of Christians were fighting for the life of a woman who will most likely never recover any quality of life, this promising young man was planning his own death...and no one noticed?? He was surrounded by Christians every day. The dean even commented: “He was well known, loved, and respected by his peers, faculty, and staff.”
We spend so much time standing on our principles, being right and self-righteous, that we end up fighting the wrong battles. Those hundred thousand Christians don’t know Terri Schiavo – they’re in uproar because the death that her husband wants for her violates their morality, but they’ll never have to hold her hand or pay her medical bills or bathe her or sit by her bedside each day, watching her deteriorate.
It’s a helluva lot easier to wage a principled verbal war than to suppress your own selfishness and stubborn independence and get neck-deep in the muck and mire of humanity only to have to sift through sin, poverty, decay and disease to find an ounce of something worth holding on to. This young man needed someone to risk something for him, to wade into some deep and treacherous waters and bring him back to shore.
I’ll go first and confess that I don’t know how to love this way. I started to weep just talking about this with one of my co-workers because I feel so intensely both a desire to be known and cared about and a desire to deeply know and care about others. Yet my greatest hindrance is fear…fear of failure and rejection by those I long to love.
So, I hope you’ll accept this as exhortation rather than condemnation, and that you’ll pray, as I will, that we’ll all learn to love the mess…
On my way to work this morning, I noticed everyone reading the newspaper…on the bus, at bus stops, on the street corners…every newspaper had the same headline: “Bush Signs Schiavo Bill” (or some variation thereof). Maybe you’re familiar with this controversy about whether or not this woman (Terri Schiavo), who has been in a “persistent vegetative state” since 1990, should once and for all have her feeding tube removed. She would literally starve to death. She’s actually had this tube removed before, then it was put back, then removed again, then put back, and now removed for a third time. Her husband has been fighting for removal of the feeding tube since 1998, fighting against her family and the governor of Florida (Gov. Jeb Bush). Now he’s not only fighting against them, but also against the United States Congress, President Bush, and evangelicals everywhere.
On Friday, March 18, 2005 (the same day Terri Schiavo was having her feeding tube removed for the 3rd time) at 1:00am, a young college senior was killing himself. He was an undergrad student at the bible college I attend. All reports about this incident are brief and uninformative, except to say that he “believed it necessary to take his own life;” and that no one really knows why - not even the dean who’d met with the young man only a week prior to his suicide to talk about the student’s future plans.
The irony of the situation is not lost on me. While hundreds of thousands of Christians were fighting for the life of a woman who will most likely never recover any quality of life, this promising young man was planning his own death...and no one noticed?? He was surrounded by Christians every day. The dean even commented: “He was well known, loved, and respected by his peers, faculty, and staff.”
We spend so much time standing on our principles, being right and self-righteous, that we end up fighting the wrong battles. Those hundred thousand Christians don’t know Terri Schiavo – they’re in uproar because the death that her husband wants for her violates their morality, but they’ll never have to hold her hand or pay her medical bills or bathe her or sit by her bedside each day, watching her deteriorate.
It’s a helluva lot easier to wage a principled verbal war than to suppress your own selfishness and stubborn independence and get neck-deep in the muck and mire of humanity only to have to sift through sin, poverty, decay and disease to find an ounce of something worth holding on to. This young man needed someone to risk something for him, to wade into some deep and treacherous waters and bring him back to shore.
I’ll go first and confess that I don’t know how to love this way. I started to weep just talking about this with one of my co-workers because I feel so intensely both a desire to be known and cared about and a desire to deeply know and care about others. Yet my greatest hindrance is fear…fear of failure and rejection by those I long to love.
So, I hope you’ll accept this as exhortation rather than condemnation, and that you’ll pray, as I will, that we’ll all learn to love the mess…
I can’t really get out what’s in my head today. I keep typing and deleting and typing and deleting…
My world has slowed down to a crawl while everyone else’s seems to be moving steadily or speedily toward ends possibly worth reaching. I have grand plans, make no mistake about that…I always have grand plans to change the world and right the wrongs…they never amount to much though because I’m not enough of something (ambitious, driven, disciplined – it’s one of those harsh sounding words that make you think of politicians, militants, or Martha Stewart).
But at least I can say unabashedly that I feel called to serve God wherever and whenever He says go. Maybe it isn’t so much a “calling” as it is an intense pressure in my spirit that will not allow me to pursue anything else whole-heartedly. He knows me, knows that I need to be passionate about things in order to be useful...what am I saying? He created me! It’s not in my nature to be hands-off about issues that are close to my heart…I like to be involved or at least feel like I am.
What I think is rubbish is Christians who pat me on the back in a patronizing way and, with a sympathetic smile, attempt to deflect their own lack of conviction about the need for social justice by saying, “Wow, I think it’s awesome that you feel “called” to that.” This implies, of course, that they do not feel “called” to that and that they don’t really want me to try to persuade them to care about issues to which they do not feel “called” to respond. In that trite response, what they’re really saying is, “Wow, that sounds weighty and difficult! I’m so glad you’re going to do that and not me. I’m so glad I’m called to live in a nice house, have a nice family, go to a nice church on Sundays, and have a super-spiritual relationship with God that is the envy of everyone in my small group.”
[This is the part where I start to feel despondent and pessimistic about the church; and/or I try to intervene on the Holy Spirit’s behalf and convict people of their sinful ways, demanding repentance and immediate action. That never really works.]
I do trust God. I believe the Spirit convicts people and motivates them to act. But isn’t there also a time to speak up? To declare that our lack of compassion is an abomination to the Lord and that we should turn from our wicked ways? Or is that only for non-dispensational minded churches?
“…God stands ahead of us in time, at the end of the journey, sending to us in waves, as it were, the gift of the present, an inrush of the future that pushes the past behind us and washes over us with a ceaseless flow of new possibilities, new options, new chances to rethink and receive new direction, new empowerment. This newness, these possibilities are always “at hand,” “among us,” and “coming” so we can “enter” the larger reality and transcend the space we currently fill – language you will recognize as being, again, the language of the kingdom of God, which is the language of the gospel.”
–Brian McClaren, A Generous Orthodoxy
nothing suprises me anymore...nothing shocks me or devastates me like I used to be able to be shocked or devastated.
Half an hour ago my good friend from Dallas called me with an update about a family I know. They're poor, dirt poor, and they live in a small home on the south side of downtown Dallas - its the ghetto, literally. Amazingly, all 4 children have the same mother and father, a rarity in their culture, AND the mother and father are still married...at least...they were.
A week ago, apparently the victim of a drug overdose, the mother passed away. They found her naked and dead in the bathroom. Both parents are mildly retarded and addicted to drugs and alcohol. I don't know how they managed to find each other in this crazy world and fall in love and get married and have 4 kids, but they did it. And now the children are being looked after by their grandparents, who are only slightly less unfit.
The father is a danger to his children even more so now than he was before. He's still drinking and getting high. My friend is worried because he also believes the father has been sexually abusing his two daughters. There's no money to pay for a funeral and a burial plot for this woman who, because of her size, will require a larger, more expensive casket.
I am sad and I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach because I can't be there to hold Anita and Shametra and Joseph and Darius and tell them I love them and I can't sit and talk with them and help them understand all that is going on in their young hearts and minds...
i'm so weary of this, all of this...
God, protect and defend the innocent - raise up your people to do justice and love mercy and hold the hands of the abused and neglected and oppressed, send warriors who will champion the causes near to Your heart
bring peace
amen
Here are the official rules of the interview game:
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
6. I will answer reasonable follow up questions if you leave a comment.
Mary's great questions, my attempts to answer:
1) if you could, what one day of your life would you live over again as is?
…I remember the summer I was 12 or 13, a few families from my church went to these cabins on the bank of this beautiful river in southeast Texas. The cabins were kinda gross with rusted metal-framed beds, tiny showers and no air conditioning, but the surrounding woods were lush and green and made you feel so safe, almost cocooned. Anyway, we spent all day inner-tubing down the river, so by dinner time we were all sunburned and starving. We cleaned up and dressed-up and went to this restaurant that had an open-air dance floor where a live band was playing country-ish music. We ate messy barbecue and sat watching the people dance…and then it happened…a boy who I didn’t know and would never see again came over to where we were sitting and asked me to dance. It was the first time I ever slow-danced with a boy…it was summer, my younger sisters were giggling, there were a million stars and a bright moon, it was magic…
2) what does the term feminism mean to you?
I feel like feminism has gotten a bad reputation in evangelical tradition over the last 40 years or so, especially as a “liberal” movement. Initially, I think it was intended to raise awareness of the unfair and unequal treatment of women.
I think Jesus was a feminist. He encouraged women to join in his ministry, not only did they have a chance to serve his physical needs (some evangelicals seriously think this is the only calling Jesus ever gave to women), but he taught them and ministered to them and with them and through them.
I’ll always say I’m a “pure feminist.” Although, I do think you can go too far, almost to the point of blurring lines of sexuality. I don’t want a world where it doesn’t matter what gender you are. I like having doors opened for me and heavy things moved for me…but then again, I am from the South. I think we’re all a little bit of Elizabeth Bennet, Gloria Steinem, and Jackie Kennedy rolled into one.
3) in your 20-some years on this planet, name three of the best lessons you've learned about life.
In my 26 years I have learned:
a. “always look both ways before crossing the street” – 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Pierce
b. “pretty is as pretty does” – quote from my grandmother
c. “fantasy is what people want, but reality is what they need” – Lauryn Hill (see also Ecclesiastes)
4) would you rather wake up one morning and find that your body has been fully and permanently glued to itself (like arms glued to your sides and legs glued to each other) OR discover that you have a third eye on your lower back that cries oceans at sporadic moments? why?
I’d definitely go for the third eye. That could be really useful, except for the crying bit…but I think people would get used to it. Mostly I’m not choosing the eye; I’m rejecting the glued appendages. I’d risk humiliation to be able to still play my guitar and hold my niece!
5) if god gave you a section of the sky and a bunch of form-able clouds with which you could write anything you like and it would stay there for 1 full year, what would you write?
My first thought was, “For a good time, call….” But in an effort to be more holy and serious, I think I’d write:
“I can say that I never knew what joy was like until I gave up pursuing happiness, or cared to live until I chose to die. For these two discoveries I am beholden to Jesus.” - Malcolm Muggeridge
Or:
Acts 1:10-11 (you’ll have to read it for yourself!!!)
I’m tired of emptiness in everything I see and hear. Why do Christians spend so much of our time worrying about and concerning ourselves with things that have no eternal value? I recently heard an interesting statement: “Seeing the results of your actions is not important, just the actions are.”
We live in a world of assessment and quantifiable results. If we can’t see results, something is reordered, made-over or cut out completely. I feel like people have taken it upon themselves to determine precisely what pleases God and what doesn’t and they are going to rid the world of the latter.
Firstly, that is not possible. We live in a fallen world full of sin and totally depraved people. So to those of you who are wasting your time simply trying to “make the world a better place” please stop now.
I don’t mean to discourage good works in anyway. I only want us to think not just about what we do, but WHY WE DO IT? If your good work is not motivated by love, then what good is it? You may benefit someone else, but you are not earning any kind of reward for yourself. You’re not racking up points with God because you do good things that get good results.
Secondly, I do not determine the worth or value of my sacrifices to God. Remember when Cain tried to that? It didn’t end so well for him. God determines all value and all worth. Trying to make everything better for the sake of making it better is a vicious and cyclical waste of time. When our life’s ambition is improving a situation or making the world a better place, our object of affection and honor becomes the situation or the world and not God himself.
Then we can also avoid looking to our own skills and abilities. Its not about finding that perfect place or that perfect ministry. God has opened wide the world to us. With all its hurts and problems, we don’t have to go looking for ways to bring justice, mercy and compassion to a hurting world in the name of Jesus. I don’t have to know the future or how the actions I take today will affect the world 50 years from now. I only have to devote this moment to God, to say that I don’t want to waste my short life doing things that are the perfect thing or waiting for the perfect person to come along. He makes all things grow anyway, we just get to be a part of the process.
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i'm jenn. i'm 30 years old and still trying to figure out what i want to be when i grow up. i'm open to suggestions...