Monday, August 4, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
Lacking sense or sensibility, apparently
I really should be going to bed. I've been severely lacking sleep due to pleasant and happy late nights for the last week, but ones that have left me with 4-6 hours of sleep a night. Not good when you're an 8 hour a night sort of girl. [And don't get me started on either the virtues of minimal sleep or early mornings. Einstein slept 11 hours a day, so I figure I'm 8/11ths as smart as he is. Thank you Jesus for having a vacation from work next week.]
So I just got home from the first night of Beth Moore's simulcast. There were 2 things that particularly spoke to me, separate and able to stand on their own, yet related too.
First, Beth talked about our lack of belief that God has promises for us personally. This hit me hard. I've been a group of one in the Summer Siesta Bible Study of "No Other Gods" by Kelly Minter. [Side note: I had purchased the trade paper book by her just days before Beth announced this study. It's not a book written from the study or vice versa. They're complimentary, so I recommend getting both.] The last few weeks, Kelly has asked us to discuss the promises God has made to us. And my answer is always the same ...
I don't believe God has promised me anything more than He promised to all believers in a generic sense of the concept of promise.
You can see why her words struck me.
And then, near the end, she made the comment about not feeling worthy because of your past or because of what you did last night. What if it was yesterday morning? Because I sinned. Of course, we all sin regularly. This was premeditated. Something I would've been very, very pissed had it been done to me. It was so easy to do, so easy to slip into old habits and patterns and relationships. Too easy. And I'd been so long without actually engaging willfully in this sin - thinking, yes, although even trying to avoid that - that I'd achieved a level of this sin's absence I'd never had before. Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall, I suppose.
So where does this connect? See, I've been working through my idols because of the study. Seems God likes to test me, to work with me on these while doing a study while Satan tries to recover any ground he lost. [To the point of having regular middle-of-the-night feelings of great enemy oppression during the Believing God study.] And this one idol, this area, this one particular area, was the source of my sin. See, there's something I desire greatly. I don't believe it's a bad thing or a wrong thing or an ungodly thing in the least. In fact, I think it's a topic of many promises God makes to his people, individually and corporately. I desire this thing, and I've talked to God about it and yet, and yet, I just can't fathom God fulfilling this in Himself alone. I just can't.
And this is an area where I sense, painfully, God's silence on promises to me more than anything.
I had a taste of it once, but circumstances and sin ripped away what I felt was a promise. I felt that it was mine once, that God had given me what I desired most in a package of which He approved. Even when the entire promise didn't go as planned, I sensed that He was working out something better that I could have ever imagined in my puny little fleshly brain.
But now I wonder if I was ever promised anything at all, if I made an idol of it and talked myself into believing God had something special for me, that I was special enough to Him to make plans JUST FOR ME. And this being special thing, this thing which feeds my sins and idols, seems to always be just out of my reach. To not be special, to be chosen, by the very ones who are supposed to choose you above all others except God.
I have a history of this here in this place, in this void in my heart. And while I know what the Bible says, while I know what my heart wants, while I know what is right ... I don't see evidence that this desire, this thing I thought was promised to me and that I was given, is meant for me. Ever.
I'd love to be proven wrong.
So I just got home from the first night of Beth Moore's simulcast. There were 2 things that particularly spoke to me, separate and able to stand on their own, yet related too.
First, Beth talked about our lack of belief that God has promises for us personally. This hit me hard. I've been a group of one in the Summer Siesta Bible Study of "No Other Gods" by Kelly Minter. [Side note: I had purchased the trade paper book by her just days before Beth announced this study. It's not a book written from the study or vice versa. They're complimentary, so I recommend getting both.] The last few weeks, Kelly has asked us to discuss the promises God has made to us. And my answer is always the same ...
I don't believe God has promised me anything more than He promised to all believers in a generic sense of the concept of promise.
You can see why her words struck me.
And then, near the end, she made the comment about not feeling worthy because of your past or because of what you did last night. What if it was yesterday morning? Because I sinned. Of course, we all sin regularly. This was premeditated. Something I would've been very, very pissed had it been done to me. It was so easy to do, so easy to slip into old habits and patterns and relationships. Too easy. And I'd been so long without actually engaging willfully in this sin - thinking, yes, although even trying to avoid that - that I'd achieved a level of this sin's absence I'd never had before. Pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall, I suppose.
So where does this connect? See, I've been working through my idols because of the study. Seems God likes to test me, to work with me on these while doing a study while Satan tries to recover any ground he lost. [To the point of having regular middle-of-the-night feelings of great enemy oppression during the Believing God study.] And this one idol, this area, this one particular area, was the source of my sin. See, there's something I desire greatly. I don't believe it's a bad thing or a wrong thing or an ungodly thing in the least. In fact, I think it's a topic of many promises God makes to his people, individually and corporately. I desire this thing, and I've talked to God about it and yet, and yet, I just can't fathom God fulfilling this in Himself alone. I just can't.
And this is an area where I sense, painfully, God's silence on promises to me more than anything.
I had a taste of it once, but circumstances and sin ripped away what I felt was a promise. I felt that it was mine once, that God had given me what I desired most in a package of which He approved. Even when the entire promise didn't go as planned, I sensed that He was working out something better that I could have ever imagined in my puny little fleshly brain.
But now I wonder if I was ever promised anything at all, if I made an idol of it and talked myself into believing God had something special for me, that I was special enough to Him to make plans JUST FOR ME. And this being special thing, this thing which feeds my sins and idols, seems to always be just out of my reach. To not be special, to be chosen, by the very ones who are supposed to choose you above all others except God.
I have a history of this here in this place, in this void in my heart. And while I know what the Bible says, while I know what my heart wants, while I know what is right ... I don't see evidence that this desire, this thing I thought was promised to me and that I was given, is meant for me. Ever.
I'd love to be proven wrong.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Perfect Storm
This concept of a "perfect storm", where all elements and events collude for maximum impact, was made into a movie which a lot of people saw. I didn't, though. I didn't go see a lot of movies when I was single and in grad school and I don't go see a lot of movies now that I'm divorced.
But the concept seems to get me thinking. People assume they know what happened to my marriage, as if it had to be a longstanding problem. Honestly, from all I can see, it was a collusion of events that just snowballed into a single month of devestation before exploding into the death of a covenant.
On the way to church, though, I was thinking. You see, I process thoughts in such a way that I pull seemingly random connections from all sorts of conversations, readings, studies, and observations into a metaphor. It's a long story how I got to this thought, but essentially it surrounds the Biblical statement that we're created "for such a time as this", that God has put us in our location, our situation, and our time for His specific purpose for us.
So what if ... and this is really a pipe dream because life is messy and people don't behave the way they should [myself included] or how God would have them act ... but what if God put the precise mix of personalities and talents and desires that, if people were to act on them, it would produce an explosion of God's power on earth. That those in need at the moment would be provided exactly what they needed because those who can provide it are being obedient and faithful. That those who seek purpose in this life would have someone to whom they could extend their talents and gifts in meeting that need. That those who seek to drive change would find a malliable world. What if?
Bible Study
So, I'm doing a Bible study right now with my "siestas" through Beth Moore's blog. It's entitled "No Other Gods" by Kelly Minter. I posted on a web board for a discussion of this subject some things that I'd been reading in a book that I need to read for work. It's brain/mind connection theory, but it confirms to me what scientists [athiest ones, at that] are finding that coincide with what the Bible says about our thoughts, actions, and sins. I think I'm finding that [insert sigh here] that some people just don't think the way I do. I don't know how else to explain it other than saying I don't fit in many places. I can squeeze myself into spots in life, some a tighter fit than others. Sometimes those spots leave poking bits in my being. But it's so hard when you long for someone to say, "I get you!" It's hard when there was one person who I felt "got" me, and he rejected me. Is it a rejection of that which is me, which he did understand, or just his own issues? I don't know.
Anyway, about this Bible study, there's a section on fear and Satan's lies that I did recently. It made me think of sections in 2 books I read in the last few months, one called "Evangelism for the Rest of Us" and one by Lisa Bevere. Essentially both said the same sentence with a slightly different number, but it boils down to this:
Satan's lies are 90% true.
And I find this is what I'm struggling with in my life, and what the Bible warns us of when God tells us that there's a way that seems right to man [what's technically true, but not full truth] that leads to death. I find my heart and being struggling with this, in a world that wants to label and judge and categorize experiences. I understand that our brains categorize, or stereotype, not necessarily as a prejudicial thing but as a brain economy thing. But I'd like to be worth someone wrapping their mind around me, so to speak, wrapping their mind around all that I am. And I want to care enough to wrap my mind around all that they are, not to assume or to want to wrap up their messy life in a neat little package.
That's one thing my students are seriously teaching me. Life is messy. There's a need for order, for rules, for truth, but that coexists with "mess", with a little bit of chaos, with freedom, with God's seemingly random plan. I think, perhaps, that life seems messy but it's like an impressionist painting, and until we're in heaven, we won't be able to see the picture for the little blobs of paint that look like mistakes and messes and .... well, *just* paint.
What I'm reading right now
I just got done with a book by a woman who, I think, might actually be one of those few people that "get" me. Her name is Jen Hatmaker, and the book is "Ms. Understood". I actually bought her Bible studies last summer when I thought, with being unemployed and suddenly separated from my husband, I'd have time to do them and in need of God's constant presence in the vacuum left by my husband. But then I started working and that vacuum was filled with the need of my staff and students. [Have I made it a little-G god, a la "No Other Gods"? Perhaps. I'm still working through this, because I know I didn't want it to be a god, but the need for comfort, for distraction, and for security were probably driving factors in it. But that's a completely different story.] Anyway, I so recommend this book. I've read a lot of books about God's view of and purpose for women, and I get some new insight out of each author. It's just that I think Jen could actually be a friend. [Have you ever seen something about a famous person, not like Jen is famous, and thought you could actually befriend that person, and not because of their status but because their personality is one you could really appreciate when they're not on the world's stage?]
So, some other things in my stack:
But the concept seems to get me thinking. People assume they know what happened to my marriage, as if it had to be a longstanding problem. Honestly, from all I can see, it was a collusion of events that just snowballed into a single month of devestation before exploding into the death of a covenant.
On the way to church, though, I was thinking. You see, I process thoughts in such a way that I pull seemingly random connections from all sorts of conversations, readings, studies, and observations into a metaphor. It's a long story how I got to this thought, but essentially it surrounds the Biblical statement that we're created "for such a time as this", that God has put us in our location, our situation, and our time for His specific purpose for us.
So what if ... and this is really a pipe dream because life is messy and people don't behave the way they should [myself included] or how God would have them act ... but what if God put the precise mix of personalities and talents and desires that, if people were to act on them, it would produce an explosion of God's power on earth. That those in need at the moment would be provided exactly what they needed because those who can provide it are being obedient and faithful. That those who seek purpose in this life would have someone to whom they could extend their talents and gifts in meeting that need. That those who seek to drive change would find a malliable world. What if?
Bible Study
So, I'm doing a Bible study right now with my "siestas" through Beth Moore's blog. It's entitled "No Other Gods" by Kelly Minter. I posted on a web board for a discussion of this subject some things that I'd been reading in a book that I need to read for work. It's brain/mind connection theory, but it confirms to me what scientists [athiest ones, at that] are finding that coincide with what the Bible says about our thoughts, actions, and sins. I think I'm finding that [insert sigh here] that some people just don't think the way I do. I don't know how else to explain it other than saying I don't fit in many places. I can squeeze myself into spots in life, some a tighter fit than others. Sometimes those spots leave poking bits in my being. But it's so hard when you long for someone to say, "I get you!" It's hard when there was one person who I felt "got" me, and he rejected me. Is it a rejection of that which is me, which he did understand, or just his own issues? I don't know.
Anyway, about this Bible study, there's a section on fear and Satan's lies that I did recently. It made me think of sections in 2 books I read in the last few months, one called "Evangelism for the Rest of Us" and one by Lisa Bevere. Essentially both said the same sentence with a slightly different number, but it boils down to this:
Satan's lies are 90% true.
And I find this is what I'm struggling with in my life, and what the Bible warns us of when God tells us that there's a way that seems right to man [what's technically true, but not full truth] that leads to death. I find my heart and being struggling with this, in a world that wants to label and judge and categorize experiences. I understand that our brains categorize, or stereotype, not necessarily as a prejudicial thing but as a brain economy thing. But I'd like to be worth someone wrapping their mind around me, so to speak, wrapping their mind around all that I am. And I want to care enough to wrap my mind around all that they are, not to assume or to want to wrap up their messy life in a neat little package.
That's one thing my students are seriously teaching me. Life is messy. There's a need for order, for rules, for truth, but that coexists with "mess", with a little bit of chaos, with freedom, with God's seemingly random plan. I think, perhaps, that life seems messy but it's like an impressionist painting, and until we're in heaven, we won't be able to see the picture for the little blobs of paint that look like mistakes and messes and .... well, *just* paint.
What I'm reading right now
I just got done with a book by a woman who, I think, might actually be one of those few people that "get" me. Her name is Jen Hatmaker, and the book is "Ms. Understood". I actually bought her Bible studies last summer when I thought, with being unemployed and suddenly separated from my husband, I'd have time to do them and in need of God's constant presence in the vacuum left by my husband. But then I started working and that vacuum was filled with the need of my staff and students. [Have I made it a little-G god, a la "No Other Gods"? Perhaps. I'm still working through this, because I know I didn't want it to be a god, but the need for comfort, for distraction, and for security were probably driving factors in it. But that's a completely different story.] Anyway, I so recommend this book. I've read a lot of books about God's view of and purpose for women, and I get some new insight out of each author. It's just that I think Jen could actually be a friend. [Have you ever seen something about a famous person, not like Jen is famous, and thought you could actually befriend that person, and not because of their status but because their personality is one you could really appreciate when they're not on the world's stage?]
So, some other things in my stack:
- Letters to a Young Evangelical - Tony Campolo
- Jesus for President - Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw
- Unveiling Islam - Caner brothers
- The Trouble With Paris - Mark Sayers
I'd recommend each and every one. All have different points and views. You may not agree with everything said, but I think good reading isn't meant to make us just nod our heads and affirm our current views, but to make us think and process and consider.
And something I saw in church today
Yes, I realize I'm behind the 8-ball in terms of what's culturally edgy, but I still enjoyed this. It's amazing what one man can inspire with a simple goal. [And I don't know if Matt is a Christian, but it almost felt like, when the wave swept over him, like God was dancing with him. Even the rocks cry out.]
Friday, April 18, 2008
From Narnia to heaven
I was a latecomer to the whole CS Lewis thing. I didn't read the books as a child, but I did start reading the Chronicles of Narnia and adult-focused books a few years ago. Fell completely in love with how artfully the Biblical truths are intertwined with the imagery. My copy of CON is littered with comments and Bible verse references in the margins.
Having prefaced with all that, this is nothing about the latest Narnia movie or CS Lewis or any of that.
It's about weather.
See, I live in Michigan. I know a lot of states claim the joke, "If you don't like the weather in ________, wait a minute and it'll change." But this is Michigan. That joke means something here. We get it. I've seen snow in the morning and gone without so much as a jacket in the afternoon.
Several weeks ago, I remember stopping on the front porch at my mom's house to unlock the door after a long, cold, dark day and having this moment of clarity where I realized I'd forgotten what spring felt like. I knew logically that I'd experienced warm weather but, for the life of me, my body and mind couldn't seem to recall it as reality. I felt like I was living in Narnia during the White Witch's reign. It isn't a depression thing; it's entirely about dealing with the feeling of everlasting winter. The snow day right after it finally melted from the last storm. Incessant shoveling. Days of high winds when it was just above freezing, so the roads dried up and the snow melted and evaporated, but without that feeling of hope one gets from spring.
And then there's today. I noticed 3 days ago that I had plants that were brown a week ago that now seem 6" tall and vibrant green. I'd been battling the false hope that comes with one day of 50° weather followed by near freezing temps and rain. And then suddenly, it's sunny and well into the 70s and bright and cheerful. Like someone flipped the switch turning winter off and spring on overnight. It's been so long since I've experienced a day like this that I feel like I'm in another world, another place, out of my element. It's the day when you want to drive just to go to your favorite restaurant an hour away and soak up the sun sitting on the restaurant patio while relaxing and drinking sangria. And it's Friday to boot.
So why do I feel guilty? I got out of a meeting at 2:30 PM. I run a program that runs in the morning Monday through Friday and at night only Monday through Thursday, so I didn't have staff or students any more today. I'd worked 10-12+ hour days every day this week. I put in 6 hours today including a working lunch [so no break]. So why do I feel guilty about taking 2 hours to come home early and enjoy the beautiful warm, soft breeze and sunshine that is so foreign to me during the rest of the week. I'm lucky if I see anything but morning sun most days. I'm not slacking. I'm not lazy. I'm the boss of my program, so it's not like I don't get to make these judgment calls. I'm salaried, which means always working more than 40 hours. I know I grew up in a family with a strong sense of responsibility. I took one sick day since last July, despite being actually sick fairly often [the danger of working with children] and working massive hours and going through a divorce and a house purchase and a move. I felt better that day I called in sick, so I felt so guilty that I wasn't feeling like death warmed over anymore that I went in anyway for 2 hours until my supervisors told me to go home.
Can it be that it's hard to not feel like you always have to justify and prove yourself? Can it be that, in our culture, we can't ever enjoy being in the moment and fully appreciate the day gifted to us? Can it be that I haven't learned how to feel like I've worked enough and be happy with what I've accomplished if I haven't worked myself to the point of mental and physical exhaustion? Can it be that I'm worried of Murphy's Law, that the emergency will occur when I'm playing hooky [even though I've put in plenty of hard work this week] and I'll get called on the carpet for not having the foresight to make sure I'm there at every possible moment that something could go wrong?
Enough guessing. I think I'll go for a drive.
Having prefaced with all that, this is nothing about the latest Narnia movie or CS Lewis or any of that.
It's about weather.
See, I live in Michigan. I know a lot of states claim the joke, "If you don't like the weather in ________, wait a minute and it'll change." But this is Michigan. That joke means something here. We get it. I've seen snow in the morning and gone without so much as a jacket in the afternoon.
Several weeks ago, I remember stopping on the front porch at my mom's house to unlock the door after a long, cold, dark day and having this moment of clarity where I realized I'd forgotten what spring felt like. I knew logically that I'd experienced warm weather but, for the life of me, my body and mind couldn't seem to recall it as reality. I felt like I was living in Narnia during the White Witch's reign. It isn't a depression thing; it's entirely about dealing with the feeling of everlasting winter. The snow day right after it finally melted from the last storm. Incessant shoveling. Days of high winds when it was just above freezing, so the roads dried up and the snow melted and evaporated, but without that feeling of hope one gets from spring.
And then there's today. I noticed 3 days ago that I had plants that were brown a week ago that now seem 6" tall and vibrant green. I'd been battling the false hope that comes with one day of 50° weather followed by near freezing temps and rain. And then suddenly, it's sunny and well into the 70s and bright and cheerful. Like someone flipped the switch turning winter off and spring on overnight. It's been so long since I've experienced a day like this that I feel like I'm in another world, another place, out of my element. It's the day when you want to drive just to go to your favorite restaurant an hour away and soak up the sun sitting on the restaurant patio while relaxing and drinking sangria. And it's Friday to boot.
So why do I feel guilty? I got out of a meeting at 2:30 PM. I run a program that runs in the morning Monday through Friday and at night only Monday through Thursday, so I didn't have staff or students any more today. I'd worked 10-12+ hour days every day this week. I put in 6 hours today including a working lunch [so no break]. So why do I feel guilty about taking 2 hours to come home early and enjoy the beautiful warm, soft breeze and sunshine that is so foreign to me during the rest of the week. I'm lucky if I see anything but morning sun most days. I'm not slacking. I'm not lazy. I'm the boss of my program, so it's not like I don't get to make these judgment calls. I'm salaried, which means always working more than 40 hours. I know I grew up in a family with a strong sense of responsibility. I took one sick day since last July, despite being actually sick fairly often [the danger of working with children] and working massive hours and going through a divorce and a house purchase and a move. I felt better that day I called in sick, so I felt so guilty that I wasn't feeling like death warmed over anymore that I went in anyway for 2 hours until my supervisors told me to go home.
Can it be that it's hard to not feel like you always have to justify and prove yourself? Can it be that, in our culture, we can't ever enjoy being in the moment and fully appreciate the day gifted to us? Can it be that I haven't learned how to feel like I've worked enough and be happy with what I've accomplished if I haven't worked myself to the point of mental and physical exhaustion? Can it be that I'm worried of Murphy's Law, that the emergency will occur when I'm playing hooky [even though I've put in plenty of hard work this week] and I'll get called on the carpet for not having the foresight to make sure I'm there at every possible moment that something could go wrong?
Enough guessing. I think I'll go for a drive.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
I wanted to separate this post out from the other one I created today. First, let me say HAPPY EASTER!
As a chocoholic, this holiday has always held a special place in my heart. I have pictures of me each year of childhood, from the time I could stand, biting the ears off of a chocolate bunny. Sort of a family tradition. My mom still gets me a bunny every year and still asks if I've eaten the ears yet.
But this year ... not just this year, but increasingly every year, I am more and more floored by Easter. By Resurrection Day. Easter is the term the world knows, but to me, it's "Sunday". Not just any Sunday, but Sunday with a huge, honkin' capital S. The day when hope comes alive.
Years ago, I heard a sermon by a beloved pastor, Tony Campolo, entitled, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming!" Essentially, it's like this: when you think your dreams, your life, your hope, is dead and buried, it's just Friday. Sunday's coming, with all the promise and glory and restoration and power, beyond anything you could ever imagine.
Several months ago, I first heard a song by Tree63 called "Sunday" that echos this theme.
Oh, how I love this song. Satan knows he lost. He can see it but can't admit it. King of "De Nile"? [It ain't just a river in Egypt.] He's fighting to take everyone down with him that he can, but he's done. He's lost. Won battles, but not the war. And the darkness, the evil, Death, does not get the final world. Thank you, Jesus!As a chocoholic, this holiday has always held a special place in my heart. I have pictures of me each year of childhood, from the time I could stand, biting the ears off of a chocolate bunny. Sort of a family tradition. My mom still gets me a bunny every year and still asks if I've eaten the ears yet.
But this year ... not just this year, but increasingly every year, I am more and more floored by Easter. By Resurrection Day. Easter is the term the world knows, but to me, it's "Sunday". Not just any Sunday, but Sunday with a huge, honkin' capital S. The day when hope comes alive.
Years ago, I heard a sermon by a beloved pastor, Tony Campolo, entitled, "It's Friday, but Sunday's coming!" Essentially, it's like this: when you think your dreams, your life, your hope, is dead and buried, it's just Friday. Sunday's coming, with all the promise and glory and restoration and power, beyond anything you could ever imagine.
Several months ago, I first heard a song by Tree63 called "Sunday" that echos this theme.
Broken promises, weary heartsBut one promise remains:Crucified, he will come againIt’s Friday, but Sunday is comingIt’s Friday, but Sunday comesDarkness is already crumblingIt’s Friday, but Sunday is coming
Especially this year, the promise of Sunday has been so very necessary to me. Death happens, divorce happens, loss happens, brokenness happens - but it's not the end of the story! I can't control what my former husband chose to do, decisions he chose to me, but I know that it is not the end of my story. No, God in his sovereignty didn't "fix" it. He chose not to restore my marriage [although I believe this is due to His respect of free will, not His desire that I should be divorced from that particular man, as some have suggested]. But He restores me. He set my feet on a rock. He provided for me by giving me a supportive, loving family and good job that uses my talents, even when I'd been job hunting for 3 years prior to that. [Those who know me know part of it had to do with moving around so much for my former husband's work and for my marriage, not with my laziness or feelings of entitlement.] When my former husband chose not to be my husband anymore, God stepped in and said, "I gave you to each other to be helpmeets and partners, but if he chooses to walk away, *I* am still your Husband." I sit here crying, yet again this weekend, over the graciousness and gifts I did not deserve. That I still do not deserve. I didn't "deserve" this life, even if I worked hard for it. Sometimes I got it in spite of not doing my best. It's not that I'm incapable or don't deserve it. That's how the world would see these words. But I know that all good things are from God, not from the fruit of my own labor.
Okay, back on the subject again. I seriously have been floored by this all weekend, that Friday doesn't get the final word. And one of my favorite Bible teachers, Beth Moore, posted on her blog this weekend, echoing what I'd been feeling in my heart for several days now:
He had it on His mind with every beat of that hammer on the nails penetrating Christ’s flesh. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son.” Death never gets the last word. Not even the death of relationship. Respect. Well-being. Health. God cannot – will not – leave well enough alone. His business is life and life at its liveliest. Loveliest. May He roll away every last thing that is stifling His effervescence in us. He never promised that life here would always be fun but He mighty well promised that life here could always be full. Every single ounce of power expended on the Cross is yours in Jesus’ Name. Ask Him what that means. How you draw from it. That’s what I’m doing today. Like you, I’ve had innumerable blessings and unforgettable moments of late. Like you, I’ve also had my own heartbreaks, disappointments, and worries.Isn't it amazing that the Holy Spirit puts in hearts, not knowing each other and thousands of miles apart, the same thing? That He knew that I just needed someone else to say [far more eloquently than I] what I'd been thinking, so I knew it wasn't just wishful thinking?
Felt weary to the bone. Frustrated to the core. I’ve cried, too. Thought I was fed-up with some things, too. Wondered if I’d ever change, too. Then comes Good Friday. The violence that says something’s about to be different. That causes our earths to quake. Then comes the Saturday wait that seems an eternity long. Then, finally, FINALLY comes Sunday morning…long before dawn. By that time the Father has waited long enough. And stones begin to roll.
May you have a blessed Sunday, looking forward to the "big S" Sunday!
Blame it on the genes.
I got to thinking recently, due to a combination of discussions I've had and reading I've done. [Thinking ... yes, it's dangerous.] Please note that, while I am not trying to be vulgar, this discussion requires some frankness that I will try to do delicately.
A casual friend was making disparaging remarks about an ex-lover's new wife and the assumed size of her vagina, due to the endowment of the man whose world they both share. I understand that the friend is upset that he married this other woman quite quickly after ending his sexual relationship with the friend, but why make jokes about the "echo"? Why do we trash other people based on things which are, to a great extent, out of their hands?
Anyone who has e-mail with an imperfect spam filter knows there are lauded treatments to modify the size of one's genitals, but mostly their proportions are determined by genetics. Men can get pumps and implants. Women can do Kegels and get tightened and have their hymen restored. But I think, in this world that makes character insinuations about a person based on their outward appearance, we've forgotten that we are what we are. Women, no matter how "snug" one is, are still stretchy enough to birth a baby. Sorry, but I've never seen a penis as big as a newborn.
I have students battling each other, and one of the threats thrown out by one girl to the other has to do with her being mixed race. As if the girl who claims a white and a black parent could do anything about the genetics her parents passed on to her.
I always got teased as a teenager because I needed a full night's sleep. I still do. In a society that acts as if you're somehow not an adult or not a go-getter if you need 8 hours of shut-eye, I'm looked down on, judged, for needing rest. Some people say they'll sleep when they're dead. Some people point to Martha Stewart and how she needs only 4-5 hours each night. They act like those who need more to survive, not just thrive, are somehow lazy or defective. [Trust me, I can get far less, like I did when my dad was dying, but it's not how I best function.] I know there are times I sleep too long, and I feel like crap. But again, I think it's how God made our bodies. Was Albert Einstein with his 11 hours of sleep each night a slacker? Was his somehow better than those who need less? No. It's just how he was made. It's just how Martha was made. It's just how I was made. While it affects how much I can get done in a day since, well, there are only 24 hours and that means I have 4 less hours to accomplish stuff each day compared to Martha, there's no sense in me trying to be something I'm not. If I try, the result is worse than before. I have 4 extra hours, but they're unproductive and mistake-ridden.
A certain male who is no longer in my life used to make negative comparisons, about how my best friend's voice is a soprano voice and another woman was more beautiful than I am. Apparently that meant her opinion of him was more valid, since that's what he said to me. I would respond that I was glad she had the brilliant foresight to choose parents with such excellent DNA to pass along to her.
I sure hope those reading this are intelligent enough to recognize the wry humor in that statement. It seems that those who don't get it are those who have a hard time giving due credit to environment, to genetics, and to choices. Character is under our control. Genes aren't. Nor is the environment in which we were raised, although we do choose as adults what surroundings, to some extent, we want in our lives.
I think about how I'm fat. Yes, I choose to not eat rabbit food or diet. I'm not as active as I should be. Even when I did those things, I wasn't thin. Thinner, yes, but not thin. I'm responsible for taking care of my body, but I also know I come from a long line of fat women on both sides of my family tree, women who lived long, healthy lives, active to the end. Since when is my character tied to the size of my butt?
This isn't to say, either, that my personality isn't shaped by how I'm made. I'm reading an evangelism book for introverts, and the author discusses Myer-Briggs personality traits and makes a good argument that we have to work within the personality God gave us. Anyone who meets a baby for the first time knows that they have their own little personalities pretty quickly, even if that base set of genes and God-given gifts and talents is shaped by environment and personal decisions. But even then, I'm not just an INTJ [close to the border of everything but "I"]. I'm also fat. I'm female. I'm American. I'm the youngest child, but 7 years behind my next older sibling, so I'm on the cusp of being a "youngest" and "only child" according to birth order books. I'm divorced. I'm a Christian. I'm middle class. I am allergic to aloe and soy and green beans [by no means an exhaustive list]. I've had my heart broken and probably broke some hearts.
But only some of those were under my control. The rest is where God put me, imbuing me with unique personality and gifts, "for such a time as this". I don't know why, but I know I'm important to my generation where I am with who I am. And my true value has to do with who I am in Christ, not the size of my vagina.
A casual friend was making disparaging remarks about an ex-lover's new wife and the assumed size of her vagina, due to the endowment of the man whose world they both share. I understand that the friend is upset that he married this other woman quite quickly after ending his sexual relationship with the friend, but why make jokes about the "echo"? Why do we trash other people based on things which are, to a great extent, out of their hands?
Anyone who has e-mail with an imperfect spam filter knows there are lauded treatments to modify the size of one's genitals, but mostly their proportions are determined by genetics. Men can get pumps and implants. Women can do Kegels and get tightened and have their hymen restored. But I think, in this world that makes character insinuations about a person based on their outward appearance, we've forgotten that we are what we are. Women, no matter how "snug" one is, are still stretchy enough to birth a baby. Sorry, but I've never seen a penis as big as a newborn.
I have students battling each other, and one of the threats thrown out by one girl to the other has to do with her being mixed race. As if the girl who claims a white and a black parent could do anything about the genetics her parents passed on to her.
I always got teased as a teenager because I needed a full night's sleep. I still do. In a society that acts as if you're somehow not an adult or not a go-getter if you need 8 hours of shut-eye, I'm looked down on, judged, for needing rest. Some people say they'll sleep when they're dead. Some people point to Martha Stewart and how she needs only 4-5 hours each night. They act like those who need more to survive, not just thrive, are somehow lazy or defective. [Trust me, I can get far less, like I did when my dad was dying, but it's not how I best function.] I know there are times I sleep too long, and I feel like crap. But again, I think it's how God made our bodies. Was Albert Einstein with his 11 hours of sleep each night a slacker? Was his somehow better than those who need less? No. It's just how he was made. It's just how Martha was made. It's just how I was made. While it affects how much I can get done in a day since, well, there are only 24 hours and that means I have 4 less hours to accomplish stuff each day compared to Martha, there's no sense in me trying to be something I'm not. If I try, the result is worse than before. I have 4 extra hours, but they're unproductive and mistake-ridden.
A certain male who is no longer in my life used to make negative comparisons, about how my best friend's voice is a soprano voice and another woman was more beautiful than I am. Apparently that meant her opinion of him was more valid, since that's what he said to me. I would respond that I was glad she had the brilliant foresight to choose parents with such excellent DNA to pass along to her.
I sure hope those reading this are intelligent enough to recognize the wry humor in that statement. It seems that those who don't get it are those who have a hard time giving due credit to environment, to genetics, and to choices. Character is under our control. Genes aren't. Nor is the environment in which we were raised, although we do choose as adults what surroundings, to some extent, we want in our lives.
I think about how I'm fat. Yes, I choose to not eat rabbit food or diet. I'm not as active as I should be. Even when I did those things, I wasn't thin. Thinner, yes, but not thin. I'm responsible for taking care of my body, but I also know I come from a long line of fat women on both sides of my family tree, women who lived long, healthy lives, active to the end. Since when is my character tied to the size of my butt?
This isn't to say, either, that my personality isn't shaped by how I'm made. I'm reading an evangelism book for introverts, and the author discusses Myer-Briggs personality traits and makes a good argument that we have to work within the personality God gave us. Anyone who meets a baby for the first time knows that they have their own little personalities pretty quickly, even if that base set of genes and God-given gifts and talents is shaped by environment and personal decisions. But even then, I'm not just an INTJ [close to the border of everything but "I"]. I'm also fat. I'm female. I'm American. I'm the youngest child, but 7 years behind my next older sibling, so I'm on the cusp of being a "youngest" and "only child" according to birth order books. I'm divorced. I'm a Christian. I'm middle class. I am allergic to aloe and soy and green beans [by no means an exhaustive list]. I've had my heart broken and probably broke some hearts.
But only some of those were under my control. The rest is where God put me, imbuing me with unique personality and gifts, "for such a time as this". I don't know why, but I know I'm important to my generation where I am with who I am. And my true value has to do with who I am in Christ, not the size of my vagina.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Fresh new day, fresh new blog
As I was showering, a thought came to me. Truly, under running water is my best spot for ingenious and insightful thoughts. Or perhaps it just seems that way when I'm naked and drenched.
I was thinking of something regarding my students who are in the program I oversee because of choices they've made or circumstances in their life that lead them to that place. I started thinking of how I goofed a certain time. Just a factual, academic sort of goof, but a goof nonetheless. I thought about how I'd likely not make that same mistake now that I'm older, more mature, better able to concentrate on tasks that I failed in the past. And then I was reminded of how I keep forgetting to add salt to things when I cook these days. I thought of how I like to joke around that it was due to a "blonde moment" or a "brain fart". I seem to have a lot of those.
And then I was reminded, thanks to just watching a Bible study video* for the nth time that, each time I blame it on the blonde**, I'm detracting from the fact that I - talented, intelligent, capable I - am not perfect. And why "blame" anything, let alone hair color? Why can't I, or many others in this world, accept that I'm never going to get it 100% right no matter how hard I try or how good I am innately. I'm still, plainly and simply, "fleshy".
Well, yes, fleshy in the bodily sense, which I don't believe to be a character flaw, but also fleshy in the Godly sense. I'm still driven by desires and motives and failures because of being a fallen person living in a fallen world. So if I know this, why am I pretending otherwise? It sure isn't because I'm somehow hiding the truth about myself from others. They know. They can see it. Thankfully, most are polite enough not to comment.
So, here I am again. My third blog. I haven't blogged in ages. I've been thinking of it. I thought about blogging my adventures of a newly single life [thanks to my former husband who decided to exercise his free will in ending our marriage], a newly purchased house [not a new house, just new to me - but moving was too tiring to even contemplate typing!], a newly gained career in a field I swore I'd never be in.
I thought about blogging the stages of my life lately - surviving, settling, and, hopefully, shining. Surviving was from last May 14th to December 28th, the dates of my separation and house purchase. Settling is the stage I'm in now. I'm giving myself permission to spend the same amount of time in this stage as I did in the survival stage, since I know I can't rush ahead without missing some key lessons I need to learn or tasks I need to do. And then, somewhere around the beginning of August, will be my goal date for shining. You may ask why I don't shine now. Well, I do, but we're not talking about oily skin here. I feel I need to faithfully handle the spot God has put me at in my life, at this moment and for this time and in this place. I'm forever getting too big for my britches, spiritually speaking, and then wondering why God won't give me the exalted tasks to which I feel I entitled. [Side note: The story in Luke 14 of the banquet and the person wanting the seat of honor spoke to me even as a child. I rebelled against the lesson in my heart even then. I believe this was God seeing and dealing with my issues when they could've been nipped in the bud, but here I am still dealing with them.]
My Bible Verse Right Now
[2 Corinthians 6:3-10] Well, now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped. Don't put it off; don't frustrate God's work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we're doing. Our work as God's servants gets validated—or not—in the details. People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly ... in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we're beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we're telling the truth, and when God's showing his power; when we're doing our best setting things right; when we're praised, and when we're blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.
Prayer Requests [For privacy, not mentioning names. God knows who they are. He doesn't need their address.]
Mom, brother, and sister-in-law, for safe travel in and from Israel
Friend, for healing from a benign mass in his brain
Students, for courage and strength to reach their goal in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds
Former husband, that God will work powerfully in his life and pour blessing over him
Self, for healing from this flu that seems to last about a month
What I'm Reading Right Now [There seems to always be a stack. And, if not, I go to Borders. Actually, I go to Borders regardless.]
* The Bible Study video I watched was Beth Moore's Daniel. It's the one on Daniel 3.
** I'm not sure who, if any, will read this blog. However, I want to clarify that my title has to do with ME, not anyone else. There are some who may feel I'm talking about an individual, but know that this individual is myself. As for others out there, well, there needs to be accountability all around for all sorts of actions and behaviors, but this isn't about anything but my actions and behaviors, appropriately naked before you.
I was thinking of something regarding my students who are in the program I oversee because of choices they've made or circumstances in their life that lead them to that place. I started thinking of how I goofed a certain time. Just a factual, academic sort of goof, but a goof nonetheless. I thought about how I'd likely not make that same mistake now that I'm older, more mature, better able to concentrate on tasks that I failed in the past. And then I was reminded of how I keep forgetting to add salt to things when I cook these days. I thought of how I like to joke around that it was due to a "blonde moment" or a "brain fart". I seem to have a lot of those.
And then I was reminded, thanks to just watching a Bible study video* for the nth time that, each time I blame it on the blonde**, I'm detracting from the fact that I - talented, intelligent, capable I - am not perfect. And why "blame" anything, let alone hair color? Why can't I, or many others in this world, accept that I'm never going to get it 100% right no matter how hard I try or how good I am innately. I'm still, plainly and simply, "fleshy".
Well, yes, fleshy in the bodily sense, which I don't believe to be a character flaw, but also fleshy in the Godly sense. I'm still driven by desires and motives and failures because of being a fallen person living in a fallen world. So if I know this, why am I pretending otherwise? It sure isn't because I'm somehow hiding the truth about myself from others. They know. They can see it. Thankfully, most are polite enough not to comment.
So, here I am again. My third blog. I haven't blogged in ages. I've been thinking of it. I thought about blogging my adventures of a newly single life [thanks to my former husband who decided to exercise his free will in ending our marriage], a newly purchased house [not a new house, just new to me - but moving was too tiring to even contemplate typing!], a newly gained career in a field I swore I'd never be in.
I thought about blogging the stages of my life lately - surviving, settling, and, hopefully, shining. Surviving was from last May 14th to December 28th, the dates of my separation and house purchase. Settling is the stage I'm in now. I'm giving myself permission to spend the same amount of time in this stage as I did in the survival stage, since I know I can't rush ahead without missing some key lessons I need to learn or tasks I need to do. And then, somewhere around the beginning of August, will be my goal date for shining. You may ask why I don't shine now. Well, I do, but we're not talking about oily skin here. I feel I need to faithfully handle the spot God has put me at in my life, at this moment and for this time and in this place. I'm forever getting too big for my britches, spiritually speaking, and then wondering why God won't give me the exalted tasks to which I feel I entitled. [Side note: The story in Luke 14 of the banquet and the person wanting the seat of honor spoke to me even as a child. I rebelled against the lesson in my heart even then. I believe this was God seeing and dealing with my issues when they could've been nipped in the bud, but here I am still dealing with them.]
My Bible Verse Right Now
[2 Corinthians 6:3-10] Well, now is the right time to listen, the day to be helped. Don't put it off; don't frustrate God's work by showing up late, throwing a question mark over everything we're doing. Our work as God's servants gets validated—or not—in the details. People are watching us as we stay at our post, alertly, unswervingly ... in hard times, tough times, bad times; when we're beaten up, jailed, and mobbed; working hard, working late, working without eating; with pure heart, clear head, steady hand; in gentleness, holiness, and honest love; when we're telling the truth, and when God's showing his power; when we're doing our best setting things right; when we're praised, and when we're blamed; slandered, and honored; true to our word, though distrusted; ignored by the world, but recognized by God; terrifically alive, though rumored to be dead; beaten within an inch of our lives, but refusing to die; immersed in tears, yet always filled with deep joy; living on handouts, yet enriching many; having nothing, having it all.
Prayer Requests [For privacy, not mentioning names. God knows who they are. He doesn't need their address.]
Mom, brother, and sister-in-law, for safe travel in and from Israel
Friend, for healing from a benign mass in his brain
Students, for courage and strength to reach their goal in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds
Former husband, that God will work powerfully in his life and pour blessing over him
Self, for healing from this flu that seems to last about a month
What I'm Reading Right Now [There seems to always be a stack. And, if not, I go to Borders. Actually, I go to Borders regardless.]
- Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen
- In the Pit With A Lion On A Snowy Day - Mark Batterson
- Warrior Chicks - Holly Wagner
- Fight Like A Girl - Lisa Bevere
- Be Angry But Don't Blow It - Lisa Bevere
- Nurture - Lisa Bevere
- Remember Me? - Sophie Kinsella
* The Bible Study video I watched was Beth Moore's Daniel. It's the one on Daniel 3.
** I'm not sure who, if any, will read this blog. However, I want to clarify that my title has to do with ME, not anyone else. There are some who may feel I'm talking about an individual, but know that this individual is myself. As for others out there, well, there needs to be accountability all around for all sorts of actions and behaviors, but this isn't about anything but my actions and behaviors, appropriately naked before you.
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