More Thoughts

Last night was hard for me...not because it was any significant day in my life or Dad's life or anything like that.  I just had a few moments of dark silence--just enough time for my mind to wander.  The images in my mind switched back and forth between the night that Dad died and so many of the other wonderful days we had together.  It was like there was no memory that could get me to stop crying.  But, in a way, I was relieved to bawl, as I'd been struggling to feel--so many of the days since November 18, I've only felt numb--completely unable to express or work through the things that I cognitively knew I "felt."

Joe, of course, was wonderful.  Hugs, offers of hot tea and the space and freedom to know that crying is perfectly healthy.

One of the things that people have said to my family is that our faith has been inspiring.  Now, this is incredibly generous of people to say, because none of us is perfect--far from it--but it's nice to know that we're at least at places in our life (and even in his death, for Dad) where we've been able to rest as vessels through whom God can operate.  But, then I got to thinking even more, and here's what I have to say: why shouldn't my faith be stronger than ever?  People sometimes identify moments of struggle in their life as times when they felt God was distant, and I don't want to disclaim their real emotions or anything, but I might suggest that the experience of a person's death ought to cause us to grow stronger in our faith, and here's why:

In my case, I lost Dad.  Now, if you've read my most recent blog, or talked to me, ohhhh, ever, then you know that my dad was, is, and will be my hero.  And, since his death, I've only found more support from everyone else that, while imperfect, to be sure, Dad was pretty incredible.  Losing him is sad.  BUT, losing Dad had zero effect on Jesus' death on the cross, and zero effect on Jesus' resurrection and ascension.  So, there's no reason to stop believing in it.  In reality, the complete opposite is true: Dad didn't affect Jesus' death, but Jesus, in and through his death and resurrection totally changed the nature of Dad's death.  If not for God's sacrifice of his son, Dad's death would be permanent and awful.  But, thank God for loving us so much!  God SO LOVED the world that he gave his only begotten son, that WHOSOEVER believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life.

Sooo....Dad's good.  There's no reason to question that.  There's no reason for my faith to be up for debate.

Also, I put "whosoever" in all caps because it's very significant that this invitation is completely open--it's not just perfect people, or learned people, or rich people, or 'deserving' people for whom eternal life is an option--in fact, for those folks--if they think they're somehow responsible for the entirety of their success and/or good fortune--have some work to do...but, God makes sure that we know that we're ALL invited to be a part of this eternal life business--and, that that's true NOW, not just after we've become a "good person" or after we've done all of the good deeds that we can think of.  Perfection is not required--trust and humility, on the other hand, are.

Now, I want to back up for a minute, because I don't want to sound as if all death should be easy or whatever.  I think it is a perfectly normal, healthy, good, reasonable thing to mourn.  I think that we can honestly say to God, "Hey, I really don't understand why _____ had to die right now.  Seriously...."

Especially when untimely deaths are concerned, the ability to understand is pretty much nonexistent. 

Um, if you go back and read about what Jesus was doing just before his arrest, you'll see that he was pleading with God that his "cup be taken away".  He was saying, "Look, if there's any other way...and I mean any other way that everything can be done, can we do that?  PUH-LEASE?!?"  But, then, without missing a beat, Jesus continues with this: "BUT...If you CAN'T change things up, and if I HAVE to be arrested, tortured, crucified, and the whole kit and kaboodle, then so be it.  It's about what you want, and I'll do whatever that is."

And THAT is where having faith comes in. It's not about understanding.  It's not about mourning. It's about knowing that, if God wanted to do things differently to accomplish at least as much for His kingdom, that he would and that,when things don't go as we hope, that we can be confident that God still can and will use them for the good of all those who love him.

Booyah.

How I Am Doing

So, it's been awhile...according to the calendar, I haven't actually posted a blog since the end of March and now, here we are, in December.  But, even beyond that, the things that have happened make even late October seem as if it was eons ago.

November 18, 2011.  At the urging of Joe, I decided to head to Ohio to spend some time with my family for the weekend, while kiddo and puppy stayed here with hubby.  The goal was to be able to go through things that required limited interruptions in order to be properly managed.  None of us expected that this would also be the day that Dad died.  But, well, it was.  And, I am happy to share all of the details of that experience at some point because, frankly, for being the crappiest, most tragic thing to ever happen in my life, it was a remarkably beautiful event.  Also, I'll be spending time writing down all of the things that Andy has asked and/or observed since Dad died, as he has displayed equal parts imagination, wisdom and faith.  Three year olds are pretty amazing, to be sure!

However, for today, I will seek to answer, at least summarily, the second most popular question that's asked of me these days: How am I doing.  (The most popular question, is, of course, about how Mom is doing).

I have a lot of answers for this question, and I've discovered that they vary in proportion and strength with each passing moment.  I'll try to explain some of that now...

1. I feel humbled.

I don't even know how to explain to you the way it felt to see so many people at Dad's funeral.  And, even more so, to count the number of people who were there only because they wanted to support me.  They didn't know Dad, except through my stories and pictures and whatnot--they know me.  I have written thank you notes to all of those people, but I just feel as if my thanks yous aren't enough to convey how touching--and humbling--it was to see thirty-some people show up on my behalf--especially since most of them drove between 2 and 5 hours to be there.  Add to that the 30-or-so cards I've received and the countless (over 100) facebook messages, wall posts, etc. that I've received, and the flowers that my Starbucks sent to the funeral just for me and, well, it's just unbelievable.  It is so infrequent that I feel speechless, but, truly, I am grateful in a way that exceeds all explanation.  So, for all of you who have taken the time to support my family and me, please allow me to express my greatest, most sincere appreciation.

2. I feel peaceful.

I am very fortunate to have had a dad whose faith was so strong that I am fully assured that he's "chattin' it up with Jesus" (as my friend Lisa said) and/or "playing baseball with God" (Andy's guess), or doing whatever it is that amounts to total worship and praise in Heaven.  And, I know that Dad's healthy again, and that, in whatever form he exists, he is the most perfect representation of himself that he can be, and that he gets to be that way eternally....and so, I am blessed to experience regular moments of peacefulness--and was most blessed to be completely covered in that sense of peace even in the final moments of Dad's life and in the first moments of his death.

3. I feel sad.

Duh. My dad was so awesome.  I miss him all of the time.  I've had dreams that include him nearly every night since he died (at least, nearly every night that I've slept).  I'm sad that Andy only got three years of life with Dad, and that I only got thirty, and that Mom doesn't get to celebrate her 38th anniversary in May, let alone the 40th, 50th and 60th anniversaries on down the road.  I am sad that I can't call Dad whenever I want to, and that he won't be making business trips to my town, thus buying dinner for us and spending the night here.  I'm sad that any future family pictures will be without him.  I'm sad that he didn't get to go to spy camp, or publish his novels, or paint the masterpieces he'd envisioned, or invent something as lucrative as vel-cro, all of which he'd expressed an interest in at one point or another. 

And, the things that really trigger my sadness are all of these little things that just make Dad, Dad.  I cried the other day because "Top of the World" by The Carpenters was in my head, which made me think of when we were on a road trip and Dad sang along to that song in the car, and I was shocked to hear that he knew all of it.  I will never, ever smell sunblock without thinking of Dad.  I won't be able to order hot & sour soup, see anything involving West Virginia, drink egg nog, watch the Weather Channel, watch Jeopardy, read about Dietrich Bonhoeffer, or watch a whole world of movies again without thinking of Dad.  Of course, this leads me to my next point:

4. I feel grateful.

I'll say it again: my dad was so awesome.  The list of memories that Dad and I share is several miles long.  The list of things I learned from Dad is even lengthier, as is the list of things about which Dad made me laugh.  Longest of all, though, is the number of times that Dad told me he loved me, that he was proud of me, that I was his "favorite youngest daughter", that God loves me, and that nothing could ever change those things.  In the eleven months since Dad was diagnosed with his cancer recurrence, I've heard/read countless stories from other folks whose lives have been changed by Dad--I always knew that Dad was my hero, but it has been absolutely amazing to hear that everyone else viewed him with the same level of regard as me.  Most people aren't so fortunate to have a dad like that...let alone being able to say the same things about their husband, son, mom, sister, and other family members, too!  And so, I feel grateful.

I know that there are more difficult days to come--I figure that the number of tears is directly proportional to the extent of my love for Dad and, so, it's pretty clear that those tears will be substantial, to say the least.  But I also know that Dad is okay, and that, one of these days on down the road, we'll all figure out how to be closer to "okay", too.  But for now, I'm content to grieve.

About The Weather

I've had to chance to spend a fair amount of time with my parents over the last few weeks, and am now beginning to process the way that our conversations have evolved.  We've talked a lot about things like death, funeral arrangements, trusts, beneficiaries, and all of that jazz (topics that have become so commonplace that, as Mom says, it's basically like we're just talking about the weather).  And we talk about what we're reading, learning, hearing, observing.  We spend very little time talking about what this person said, or what happened to that person, or "remember when we..." or "someday, I'd really like to..."  It's kind of nice, this whole living-in-the-present thing.  And, it's not that our talk is exclusively focused on Dad's illness, or on our mortality or anything like that, but I have been struck by the fact that, while death feels like a huge inconvenience--and it's something that is very difficult for those who lose a loved one, it's completely commonplace.  None of us makes it out alive, and yet we seem to tiptoe around death, walk on eggshells around anyone forced to face their mortality in a more stark way, and we sort of treat the whole business of dying as if its taboo.

Why should we do that?  Do we think that pretending that death is not a reality might make it be so?  Because, well, that's just not the case--our bodies come with expiration dates.  And, sometimes, we receive irreparable damages that render us "totaled" even if we haven't yet arrived at that expiration date.  I realize I sound like I'm talking about a gallon of milk or something, rather than human life, and that there's a great deal more that occurs in the dying of a person--and a great more about which to be sad (in other words, it's not just crying over spilt milk........) (*cricket cricket*), but the thing of it is, if death is something of such great significance in our lives--and I believe that it is--then why do we treat it as if its something about which we must not talk.  Conversely, if death is something that we know to be natural and normal and inevitable, then why do we spend so much time thinking about it, worrying about it, letting it consume us, dreading it, or whatever other things we do?

And another thing: I think that we are selfish in a lot of ways--that's the thing that largely causes all of our sinfulness/imperfections/whatever you want to call it.  And, even in our death, we greatly desire that people remember us as having been a really amazing, irreplaceable, important and meaningful influence in their lives.  We hope that we leave a legacy--we hope for a jam-packed funeral, a full list of names from visitors at the funeral home, etc.  But, what are we doing to actually help ourselves achieve that reality?  Are we living lives deserving of the high praise that we hope to receive?  Do we strive to be the person who we hope that people remember us as being?  Or do we just sort of hope that the negative stuff will be brushed aside, and that only the positive stuff will be mentioned in honoring our memory?  Do we hope that we're doing just enough?  Do we hope that the secret anger/bitterness/envy/jealousy/hatred that we harbor is never exposed, so that we can be known as "the nicest person who ever lived" or whatever?

Well, honestly, we need to step back even further: how do we want to be remembered?  What type of legacy do we hope to leave?  Do I want to be remembered as having achieved great financial or academic success?  Do I want to be remembered for being an excellent mother?  Do I want to be remembered has having great faith and passion?  I think that, if we can whittle away at those things that we'd like to see as our epitaph, we can also gain an understanding of where are priorities are.  We can understand what we view as important.  And, frankly, if we really step back and look at our lives: how we spend our time and our money--then we can see this, too.  Often, I'd suggest, the things that we say are of utmost importance to us rarely reveal themselves to truly be of utmost import.  If my marriage is as important as I say it is, then why am I often too stubborn to openly talk about, and apologize for, mistakes that I've made within that relationship?  If my faith is really important to me, then why do I spend my money on that 4th new shirt that I really don't need, instead of praying about my financial decisions and seeking to serve others--and God--through my investments?  And, if God is really number one in my life, then why is Bible study and prayer time the first thing to push to the side when 'more important' things like laundry, exercise or even 'me time' need to happen.  Don't misunderstand me: these are very important things.  We need to take care of the things that we have, and we need to take care of ourselves.  My point is that, simply, if I consistently shirk prayer time in favor of balancing the checkbook then, perhaps, I need to evaluate how important prayer time really is in my life.  And, also, how important money is in my life.  If I spend hours trying to reconcile bank statements, or whatever, but I say that my faith, love and service in and for God is of greatest importance, then it stands to reason that I should spend more time seeking these things.  And, furthermore, these things should come first. They shouldn't be the first things to abandon.

And if we live life in such a way so as to accurately reflect the things that we say are our priorities, then I suggest that, also, death becomes a less scary/threatening/taboo concept because we know that we're living the way that we believe we ought.  So we can't have regrets.  We can't be sad that we never got to tell so-and-so how we really felt.  We can't fear having done so many things that have to be done instead of stopping to smell the roses.

We know we're going to die.  We don't know when.  We are foolish to try and count the number of our days.  But, if we live beautifully, our death can be beautiful, too.

The Rest Of The Story

So, you know how Paul Harvey's radio show?  Yeah, I wish there a few more like it:

"Hello, Americans.  I'm Paul Harvey.  You know what the news is.  In a minute, you're going to hear...the rest of the story."

There are a lot of things about which I'd love to know the rest of the story, much of which revolves around significant moments in history: what were the astronauts saying to each other when the Challenger exploded?  Where is Jimmy Hoffa?  What was Pontius Pilate thinking?

In fact, I am so, well, nosy, that I just love to read memoirs...from the lives of celebrities, perhaps, but I have really come to love memoirs written by regular people who, for one reason or another, decided to document their experiences.  Two of my very favorite books fall into this category, in fact.  One is Barbara Kingsolver's book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and the other is Jeanette Walls' The Glass Castle.  Late last year, I decided that I wanted to read books authored by Holocaust survivors, detailing their struggles during that wretched time in history.  I also found a couple of books written by Nazis.  It was fascinating.  Depressing, nauseating, and infuriating, of course, but also fascinating.  I couldn't get enough.

Sometimes, it drives me nuts that so few details of Jesus' life are presented in the Bible.  I mean, there's duplication of several events (you know, like his birth and his death, for example), and a lot of those duplications are attributed to Matthew's and Luke's knowledge of Mark's gospel when they authored their own.  But, I really really don't want to get into a conversation about gospel sources.  (Is there a Q?  Is there not a Q?  That is the question....that I want to avoid).

The point is this: aside from a trip to the temple as a tween, something else had to go on in Jesus' life, right?  I mean, we know he had siblings.  Don't you just wonder what it was like to be Jesus' brother or sister?

"Mooooooom.  Jesus turned my lemonade into milk again."  or  "Daaaaaad...why do you always act like Jesus is so perfect???" (Joseph's response: "Now James, we've been over this: your brother is the Messiah.  He really is perfect.")

And, don't you wonder if Jesus was embarrassed when, say, his voice cracked in the middle of his reading the Torah?  Or if he cried when his favorite pet camel died?  Or if people made fun of him and called him the "teacher's pet" in school?  Or, what about when he was older.  Even when the gospel does talk about Jesus' ministry, it's still only excerpted.  I mean, if I were to write about the past three years of my life in the way that Mark does, it would say something like this:

"Kristen was pregnant.  She had an easy pregnancy, only being frustrated by headaches, her inability to eat chocolate and meat, her heartburn and, at the end, her terribly swollen feet.  Then, it came to pass that she had a son, and his name was Andrew.  And Kristen and Joseph loved Andrew very much.  Then, Kristen decided to apply for a PhD program.  And so it was that Kristen was accepted.  But, she decided that her time would be better-spent by raising Andrew, and so she decided not to attend classes.  In the years that followed, Kristen still desired an education, but she continued to care for Andrew while making the finest lattes in the land in her place of work, which is called Starbucks, for it was at this place that expensive gourmet coffee could be found.  Now, in the land to the West of Kristen's home lived her parents, Stephen and Susan.  Stephen learned that he was sick and, in wanting to show her love for her parents, Kristen traveled by night to her parents' territory.  She visited them regularly, and loved them very much.  On the night of the fifth visit, Kristen decided to plan a vacation with the family to Florida, and so it was..."

Do you know how many details are NOT in that little blurb?  Even really significant details?  A LOT.

So, what are we missing about Jesus?

There are several times in Scripture when we are told that Jesus, having been fully human (and fully divine), felt the full spectrum of human emotion and experience.  We can easily identify moments when Jesus was sad, joyful, disappointed, afraid, hungry, angry, lonely and tired.  But how can Jesus possibly understand what it feels like to have a terminal illness?  Or to feel lost and useless?  Where does the Bible point to any details about Jesus' experience of indigestion or runny nose or allergies?  None of these things would cause, or be the result, of sin, so why shouldn't Jesus have experienced these things?

I bet he did.  And I bet he did a lot more than we'd care to know about.

But, here's what's great about the Bible:  yes, it is largely misses Jesus' life, really only highlighting the first and last three years of his thirty-three, but, maybe that's because we're not supposed to get caught up in the details.  If the Bible says that Jesus fully knows and understands our emotions and feelings and experiences, then we ought to trust that.  But, it doesn't need to be expanded upon the way that our understanding of the most important components of Jesus' life and message do.  We need to know less about Jesus' dealings with H1N1 and more about why his death and resurrection are so significant.  We need to know very little about Jesus' preference for watermelon over musk melon, but we clearly have an awful lot to learn about the way that Jesus treated other people, having told us to go and do likewise.

And, I even think that that might be a healthy way to view each other, too.  We tend to get wrapped up in the details about the people with whom we interact (whether in a personal way or via magazines, t.v. and whatever).  We even allow things that are details become the very things that we used to define others.  And this, I suggest, is how gossip and prejudice have found our society to be such fertile ground for growth.  Growing up female (though I realize this is an issue for males, too, but I think it's especially significant for females), we were even called upon to look at the minutia on our surface, and to do everything in our power to make it better--to correct it--to improve it--to perfect it.  If we could just have clearer skin, less frizzy hair, bigger boobs, a smaller waist, straighter teeth, or whatever, then we'd be a better person.  If we wore the right clothes, we'd be a better person.  And, if we saw other people who observed these same tendencies, then we would do well to "befriend" them.  Anyone who didn't follow this code of conduct, however, was a castoff, a loner, and "totally uncool."  We were told to focus on the details--the worst details of ourselves and others--and that this would somehow make us better.

Is it just me, or is that absolutely ridiculous logic?  First of all, yes, I used to dislike features of myself.  We'll just stick with the freckles on my face.  I hated my freckles for a long time.  But, HELLOOOO, those freckles DON'T define me.  They exist, and they are a part of me, but it's such a teeny tiny part.  And, even things that are larger than that:  my ability to play piano, for example.  Yes, I play piano well, and was especially proficient towards the end of high school, when I'd been playing regularly for 13 years.  But it's not as if I would walk around and people would say, "there's that piano player."

I think we need to accept the fact that people are always going to use labels and categories when attempting to understand other people.  In doing this, of course, we create a society that is, at the very least, disenfranchised, though I'd suggest that we're not even really a "society" as a whole, but, rather, a bunch of societies who simply tolerate each other (mostly) and co-exist.  We focus on the things that are different, no matter how important or unimportant those things really are in understanding the other person.  We spend very little time seeking to know what is the same.  We spend very little time looking for the things that are positive.  And, I might suggest, too, that the cognitions we use when we seek to understand another person are so distorted that we don't even know which truths about a person ought to define them.  We judge people and/or make assumptions about them based on any number of things: their political party, the car they drive, the number of piercings that they have, their denomination, the house in which they grew up, their grades, their skin tone, their children, etc. etc. etc.  And then, whether or not we actually know the truth about that person, we determine whether or not they deserve our time, attention, friendliness, whatever, based on our assumptions about them.

Of course, we also live in a society where openness and honesty are seen as negative attributes in many cases.  It's better to cover up our wrongdoings than it is to share them and seek forgiveness.  It's better to hide our feelings than to be an overly emotional sissy.

What if we lived in a world where the following things were true:

1. We found ways to be united, not isolated.
2. We were blind to the details that we, historically, have determined how we can or cannot relate to a person.
3. We stop making assumptions.  And gossiping.  And judging.  We fill in the gaps, instead, by communicating, loving, supporting, asking questions, celebrating.

Yes, people are different.  Yes, there are some things that other people believe that I think are absolutely wrong.  But, I guarantee you that you can find at least three things in common with every single person that you meet.  That's something I try to do every single day, with every single encounter I have (and so, if I've met you in the last 4 or 5 years, I've done this with you): whenever I meet someone new, I come up with three positive things about that person by the end of their conversation.  Admittedly, it's easier with some people than with others.  But I've found that, if I can come up with three positive things about that person, and/or three things that that person and I share in common, I'm much more likely to treat them the way that they deserve to be treated, even when buttons are pushed and disagreements arise.

So, no, we don't have the whole story of Jesus, and we'll have to wait until we're in Heaven some day to ask those questions of him ("Do you use a fork or a spoon for your macaroni and cheese, Jesus?")  But, we have the most important parts, and we're not even doing all that we can do to implement those things that we learn from his example, let alone being overwhelmed by even more.

Anyway, I just think that there's a lot to learn with the information that we have.  So, what are we waiting for?!  Let's get to it!!!!!

"This is Paul Harvey.  Good day."

Seriously, Folks...

Ok, I just have to get this off my chest, because it is driving me batty:  there is never ever a time when "hate" is a better option than "love."

Yes, we will disagree--ferociously, even--and yes, people will do wrong by us, and that will suck, but we can't be responsible for everyone else.  We can and should, however, be responsible for ourselves.  We can always choose how to respond to the things that people do to us, or say about us, or that offend us even on a larger scale.  And, if we can always choose, then, if we're doing things correctly, we must always choose the path that reflects love.

And here's another thing: I am sick and tired and depressed and angry at people who use faith as a way to mask their hate and prejudice.  So often, Jesus gets a bad name because so many people who claim faith and unerring loyalty to Him treat others as if they are second class, at best, and, all too frequently, as if they're the scum of the earth.

Mahatma Gandhi was right on target, in soooo many cases, when he made this assertion: "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians.  Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

This truly makes me sad.

Now, I want to be clear here: I believe that there are people out there who genuinely believe that the things that they believe direct them toward a certain understanding of others who aren't like them in some way or another.  They even genuinely believe that this is a reflection and/or manifestation of they're faithfulness.  I don't want to question the extent to which their beliefs are genuine.  I just want to question their beliefs.

And yes, I am well-aware that there are things in the Bible that are widely open to interpretation, and that things get a little bit dicey as a result.

But, unless I've been reading the Bible incorrectly for years, there is nowhere that God doesn't require, or that Jesus doesn't demonstrate, unconditional love.  Unconditional.  You know, without condition.  So, without regard to things that you can't even control (your race, your gender, your interests and, depending on whose side you're on, your sexual preference) AND ALSO without regard to the things you CAN  control (your career, your sins, and, depending on whose side you're on, your sexual preference).

Again, that doesn't mean we can't disagree.  Jesus' life also makes that perfectly clear.  But disagreeing, accountability, really hard conversations...none of that has to be done with an attitude of hatefulness.

Again, yes, I'm aware that, as sinful people, we struggle with a multitude of things that, unfortunately, can and do include our passing judgment on others, and treating others in a way that is most certainly not unconditionally loving.  I've done it.  You've done it.  We'll both do it again.  But, again, I'm no longer satisfied with making excuses for myself, or for anyone else, because we're sinners and we're doomed to a life of sinfulness.  While it's true that I'm a sinner, again, as I said above, I can choose how to live my life.  I can choose to work toward loving people unconditionally.  I can choose to be humble enough to admit when I've failed.  I can choose to learn how to listen, rather than judge.  I can choose to pray, each morning, or each time I encounter someone who I struggle to love well, or as often as it takes, to ask God to remove those thoughts and emotions, and to replace them with thoughts and emotions that convey love.

Oh, and it has to be genuine love, by the way.  I don't care who you are: people can see right through you when you're not genuine.

If we could take 10 or 15 seconds to get off our high horses, and stop being Self-Righteous, Holier-Than-Thou, and just plain Better Than You, we might realize that the very people we treat with disdain could've been our best friends, if we'd just given them the chance.  And, perhaps they might've asked us a question about our faith.  And then, perhaps, God might've used us as an outlet through which that person's heart might be changed to love and serve Him well.  How can hate ever accomplish that?

Initially, I was going to close this by saying that I was stepping down off of my soap box (by the way: ever wonder where that saying originated?  I did. Turns out it's exactly what you think: people literally used boxes of soap for their platform when speaking).

Annnnnyway, I don't think this is a soap box off of which I can step.  Because, while it's obvious that we can never, ever agree on everything, to me, there is absolutely no way that we can truly be faithful if we can't agree on these, the greatest commandments:  LOVE the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind and LOVE your neighbor as yourself.

The Koala On The Branch

One of my mom's favorite quotes comes from the John Lennon song "Beautiful Boy" (see Mr. Holland's Opus if you don't know it), and is this: "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans."

My familiarity with that quote began when Mom received, from somewhere (maybe as a gift from another cast member in "The Foreigner"?), a little glass ornament that used to hang on the window above the sink in the kitchen of the home where my family lived until I was 13 (I really miss that house, by the way...actually, we all do).  It had a little koala bear on a branch on one side, which I never understood, but I always thought it was cute.

Turns out, this is an incredibly true and profound statement.  I have seen its reality, among other times, in the past month or so.

If you go back and read through all of my posts since this blog's inception--or, if you've spent any time with me at all since around freshman year of high school--you know that my quest for a career has not been unlike the quests of one Don Quixote.  I have spent a lot of time dreaming about possibilities, and a lot of time getting really enthused about this career or that, taking all of the necessary steps required to begin active pursuit of my vocation.  I've even had lots of supportive friends and family members grin and bear it as I've hopped around.  And hopped around.  And hopped some more.

I have spent a lot of time feeling very frustrated, as I felt like I couldn't really do anything important until I was finally in the right career, and having that "right career" remain ever-elusive--my impossible dream.

Within the past month or so, at the very wise urging of Joe, I began to pray not that I'd figure out my vocation, but that I could be content with where I am now, and be content with the reality that this may be exactly where I'm supposed to be.  Perhaps working at Starbucks isn't the most glamorous thing--and, yes, I'm wildly overqualified--and perhaps choosing to stay at home with Andy every day doesn't earn us the sort of income that we might otherwise see in our bank account--and perhaps I have had to turn down some very appealing offers--but, even still, this might be the perfect place for me at this time.  It might, Joe suggested, be the exact circumstances through which my gifts can most thoroughly be used.

Stinkin' Joe.  Always has to be right. :)

When I finally was able to let go of my visions of Bright And Glorious Career Path and Glass-Ceiling-Breaker-Plus-Mom-Extraordinaire, finally, finally enough space in my heart and head were cleared for me to discover that God has been using me--right here, right now--and in significant ways.  God has been using me even as I've been impatiently waiting--and expressing frustration--for God to finally reveal the circumstances through which He'd actually be able to use me.  Funny how that happens, eh?

Here are some of the ways that I have been able to see God working through me (and, I want to make very clear that the Scripture's not lying: apart from Him, I can do nothing, and so I boast not in myself--I'm completely incapable--but in God, who takes even the most broken, failed, stubborn vessels and makes beautiful things happen through them).

1. Chrysalis.  This is a high school retreat that, in many ways, echoes the adult Walk To Emmaus retreats.  A couple of weeks ago, I was incredibly blessed to be a part of the Chrysalis Girls Flight #40 in the Northeast Ohio community.  I had been very active in this community throughout high school and as much of college as possible, and have really, really been missing it in the years since.  I was asked to serve as a table leader, which meant that I would be spending the weekend with 5 girls (4 of whom were new to the experience), engaging in conversation, attempting to answer important questions, and just generally trying to serve them as they explored their own faith journeys.  Additionally, I was asked to give a talk on communication, especially through prayer.  Though I remain convinced that I came away from that experience having been more blessed than I was able to be a blessing to others, the outpouring of encouragement and affirmation I received from other team members, and from girls on the weekend who sought my counsel, my ear, my hugs, cannot be denied.  I felt like I established some wonderfully strong (not 'stong', right Mom? <3) connections with the girls, and was able to help them to understand the magnitude of God's love just a little bit more.  It was simply awesome.  I am now praying for doors to be opened up, in one way or another, that will allow me to continue active involvement in the life of the Northeast Ohio Chrysalis community, and also, in the lives of the girls from the weekend (both the new 'butterflies' and the entire team).

2. Starbucks: The Customers.  Last week, there was a day when I was on the front registers and we were ridiculously busy.  I somehow managed to find a way to connect with every single one of the people with whom I spoke.  There was one couple, in particular, with whom I bonded especially well (fortunately, when they came through the line, no one was behind them, so we got to talk for several minutes).  People have always seemed to open up to me with their stories, even if they have no idea who I am, and I take this as affirmation of my ability to be approachable, trustworthy and kind.  I try to make a point to smile and make eye contact with each customer--it's amazing how many of them will respond in kind.  The other night, I had a customer mention that I was an exceptionally friendly person, which felt really good.  Yes, we're there to make high-quality brewed and hand-crafted beverages, but the other larger goal is for people to have a really positive experience.  If I can contribute to the betterment of someone's day, even if just for 15 or 30 seconds, then I have done my job well.

3. Starbucks: The Employees.  Some of the folks with whom I work are also Christians.  Some are adamantly not Christians.  In the last week, I have had 4 different co-workers make comments to me that have just blown me away into The Land of Humility.  One co-worker, who is a Christian, thanked me for the encouragement and support that I have been offering he and his family; a second, also a Christian, told me that I am just a great person, and that he's so grateful to work with me because I help him to find clarity in his own life.  Those were both amazing comments.  But then, I had another co-worker write a long letter to me, confessing that, though she and I don't share the same beliefs, I still serve as a role model for her, and that I'm one of the few people she knows who actually lives their lives to reflect the beliefs and morals that I claim to have.  Holy cow.  That just blew my mind--I felt so incredibly good after I read that.  And then I remembered it wasn't me at all, but Christ who lives within me.  I could never be anything like who I desire to be without the Holy Spirit's tireless efforts.  I've tried...it hasn't worked out.  And then, last night, another co-worker who  has spent a long time being anti-Christian because of the ways that he's experienced treatment from people who profess to be believers, said that I am the best person he's ever met.  And that I am the reason that, when he meets someone who says they're a Christian, he no longer automatically judges them, but takes time to know them first.

4. Bloggeroo.  This thing.  I have no idea who reads this, as the comment numbers are a tiny percentage of the actual number of views that this blog has.  However, I have had an interesting variety of people approach me and mention this or that sentence that I've written on here.  And, my mom actually took my last post and put it on the caringbridge website that she created for my dad.  From that, the responses have been overwhelming and humbling.  I hardly know how to respond, other than to say that I really can't take any of the credit.  God gifts me with the words.  God makes the timing right.  God avails whatever I've written to those who need to see it.  I am just the vessel.

So, in summation, this has been my prayer lately: Ummm..............God............what have you been doing in me while I've been trying to make all of these other plans?  Trying to arrange for the perfect moment to finally be usable for your work?  Oh, right, You've been somehow using me, despite my own best attempts at thwarting your plans.  Thanks for that.  And thanks for bringing people into my life, like Joe, who can speak truth to me in a way that allows me to finally finally see what's happening now, instead of investing all of now worrying about what will happen in the future.  Amen.

Bigger than the Boogeyman

Andy loves watching Veggie Tales.  And, well, who am I kidding: so do Joe and I.  We love the music and the humor, and love that solid messages are conveyed through the stories that they share.  I try very hard to not have much t.v. on during the day--an occasional episode of "Play With Me, Sesame" or Veggie Tales, and that's it.  And, as a result, I have discovered that Andy's imagination is running wild in a beautiful way.  He's remarkably verbal, loves to engage in hands-on activities, and has developed a sense of wonder and joy that t.v. can never offer.  (Ok, to be fair and honest, we also went through a ridiculously long phase when Andy wanted to watch the training scenes from Rocky 2 and Rocky Balboa [the 6th one], but that was because he loved the music so much, and he never actually stuck around to watch, as he was too busy running and attempting one-armed push-ups.  Still I'm glad we've moved on from that.  And we have a cd with the Rocky soundtrack in the car, just in case the need arises within him again).

Annnnnyway, one of our favorite Veggie Tales songs (and, actually, I don't think we've actually seen the accompanying show--I think we've just heard this song several times on one of our cds), is called "God is Bigger", and its premise is that the monsters who we fear are lurking behind every door and in every shadow of our bedroom at night might be scary, but that God is bigger than all of those things, and so, we need not fear.  (I tried to find a good youtube version, but it came up surprisingly short, though that may be because this particular song is around 15 years old).

You know, that's the thing about Veggie Tales (not unlike the Muppet Show, I suppose): it is marketed as a child's show, and is intended for very young viewers, but the messages come through in a way that speaks loudly and clearly--perhaps, even, most loudly and clearly, to adults.  Perhaps that's because we, as cynical, 'realistic', overly intellectualized (in some cases) adults need to hear these messages most strongly.  As a child, if what I feared was the boogeyman, then the emotion of that fear was very real and deep-seeded.  But, it was incredibly easy for me to grasp the concept that God Is Bigger.  And, if Mom or Dad told me that that's true, because I hung on to their every word and trusted them unswervingly at that stage, then, darnit, it was True.

But today, I sit back and sometimes find myself really struggling with that concept.  It was easy for me to reconcile that God was bigger than the boogeyman, but it's much, much harder to believe that God is bigger than cancer or global malnutrition or endless war and protesting or the countless acts of hate that occur everywhere, all the time.  The world in which we live is truly depressing when we sit back and look at it.  And if you read my previous post, you know that I whole-heartedly believe that we're stuck in the same cyclical rut that the folks who found manna with Moses and Aaron were in.

But here's the thing: FAITH.

It's the giant, can't-wrap-your-head-around-it burdens, such as I've listed above, that demand our faithfulness.  It's easy (or, at least, easier) to believe that God is bigger than little things.   It is much harder to grasp the concept that God is bigger than the biggest things.

It's hard to believe for at least a few reasons (I'm sure I'll leave some out) (And, by the way, I'm just going to use cancer here because it's the Giant Annoying Thing in my life right now and it's the thing with which I'm struggling most at this point...and it's my blog :) though, I also want to make VERY clear that I don't currently struggle with all of the challenges-to-faith that I'm going to attempt to unpack a bit in the sentences that follow.  That doesn't make them less true, though.):

If God is bigger than cancer, then why does cancer still exist?  Does God like cancer?  Does God not love me?  Why does God let bad things happen to good people?  What good can possibly come from this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad disease?

  Yeah...these questions are toughies, to say the least.  Here is how I reconcile all of these questions with a staunch belief that God is not only bigger than cancer, but also that He loves us abundantly and unswervingly:
                        
                       1. Cancer still exists because, sometimes, there's just poop in the world.  Sometimes we make choices that contribute to our disposition for cancer.  Sometimes it just happens.  Our physical bodies were never guaranteed to last forever, and, to be perfectly blunt, while I think cancer absolutely sucks and I hate it, if cancer isn't responsible for taking the life of people that I know and love, then something else will.  We all die.  It's a terribly sad time when we lose someone that we love.  And so, honestly, it pisses us off when cancer or some other stupid lurking thing gets in the way of our ability to experience "normalcy" in our lives because the very existence of cancer cells is abnormal.  And the crap that cancer patients and their families must go through is abnormal.  And the loss of someone who has, in whatever capacity, been a part of our lives, due to cancer, is abnormal and so, so sad.  But, I'm discovering more and more that the sadness that I will feel when, for example, my parents die (whether from cancer or not), will be more about ME than about THEM.  I will miss them so incredibly much.  I love my parents and, while every day of our life hasn't been, the best ever, I am constantly grateful for who they are and for who they've worked so hard to help me to become.  Their absence from my life will be difficult, to say the least.  The way I understand "normal" includes them--has always included them--in my life.  Even at the most challenging, tense and painful moments in my relationship with my parents, at the end of the day, they were still HERE.  I really and truly ought to be so joyful when my parents die.  I know that their faith in Jesus Christ and, more importantly, not what their faith is in, but what Jesus has done for them because of his love, will mean that my parents will get to hang out in communion with God when they depart from this world.  I mean, Scripture (ok, New Testament Scripture) is simply covered in the Truth that our treasure, which we receive through Christ's sacrifice, comes not here and now, but in Heaven.  Truly, death is painful for those who still remain alive on this earth, but, for the one who dies, it is beautiful.  (As a side note, when I was talking with someone recently about the reality of Dad's current illness, the conversation moved onward toward a talk about death, at which point I noted that, on the day of Dad's death--whenever that might happen to be--God probably won't let anyone else die, as Dad will have a list that's about 5 miles long full of questions that he's been wanting to ask God for years, and, I figure, God knows He's gonna be tied up all day with all of that stuff, and He won't want to keep anyone else waiting.) :)
 
                     2. No.  God does not 'like' cancer.  He hates for his beloved (you know, US) to be in pain.  He hates for us to suffer.  While the Old Testament gives us plenty of examples to contradict that statement, because images of God's wrath and revenge abound, part of Jesus coming to this earth and dying for us was so that God didn't have to punish us for our sins anymore.  But, let me be clear: that doesn't mean there aren't still consequences--whether positive or negative--associated with every choice that we make.  I kind of understand this whole thing by thinking about the SAT and the ACT.  When I, along with many others, began to think about college options, I knew that one of the factors that would contribute to my acceptance at any institution would be the scores I received for the SAT and ACT, two standardized tests used to measure various aptitudes.  While the content of the two tests differed greatly, another significant difference was in the scoring.  For the SAT, when you answered correctly, you got a point.  When you answered a question INCORRECTLY, you LOST points.  For the ACT, as with the vast majority of tests, you earned a point for a correct answer and, for incorrect answers, you didn't RECEIVE points, but you didn't LOSE any, either.  You simply just got a 0.  For the SAT, you could achieve NEGATIVE points.  For the ACT, the worst you could ever do was a ZERO.

                     How does that relate?  Well, Old Testament God is more like the SAT.  Not only did we have consequences that were the DIRECT result of our sinful actions.  We also had the ADDITIONAL punishments that God rained upon us in response to our sinfulness.  However, in Jesus' life, death and resurrection, that second component was eliminated.  We're living in the "ACT" time now: we still have consequences, yes, but God no longer imposes additional punishment.  Jesus ALREADY PAID that price.  Make sense?  I hope so.

                 3. Oh my goodness.  God loves you.  God loves you, and He loves you in immeasurable ways, and He loves you though you don't deserve it, and though you might not believe it, or Him, and He loves you EXACTLY the way you are AT THIS VERY MOMENT, no matter how broken or confused or failed you may believe yourself to be.  God desires a relationship with you BECAUSE He loves you.  SO STINKIN' MUCH!  I just don't even know how to begin to convey the reality of His love.  I feel like I can barely understand it, and have only reached the point of "barely" since having my own child.  Let me attempt to convey this sense, though (and I apologize, as the beginning of this is, well, slightly crass):

                   When I peed on the stick that ultimately revealed a plus sign on it that early January morning in 2008, I loved that child with every fiber of my being.  I knew nothing of him at that point, of course, but I loved him, just the same.  As he grew within me, I discovered that, so too, did my love--and this continues to be true, despite the fact that I continue to be certain that I couldn't love him any more if I tried.  Ah, but how the heart is ever-expanding.  When I finally met Andy in the open, I was overwhelmed--in part, because suddenly I had this teeny-tiny little baby who was REALLY relying on me, but I was more overwhelmed by my love for him.  I already felt great pain and sorrow, knowing that this child would sin, and that he would feel great pain and loss and fear and worry and agony.  And, since then, as Andy grows up right before my eyes, I know that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, there is literally nothing that he could do to make me stop loving him, or to even love him less.  I mean it: NOTHING.  I wince to think about the day that will come (it's probably inevitable) when Andy is so angry with me that he tells me he hates me.  Oh, the pain that that will bring forth.  But, let's get back to God:  how often do we tell him--either by word or deed (or both!!!)--that we hate Him.  Or that He doesn't matter.  Or that He can't possibly understand.  Or that He's not as important as other stuff?!  And yet, in a way that is even larger than the way that I love my son (which, again, is ridiculously hard to conceptualize) God just keeps on loving us.  He will wait for us.  He will cry for us.  He will be available for us.  God's love never, ever ends.  It doesn't matter what you've done in your life.  It doesn't matter how many mistakes you've made.  It doesn't matter who you've hurt, or how badly.  To God, the reality is this: I LOVE YOU!  I love you and I love you and I love you.  No matter what.  I couldn't love you anymore, and I won't love you any less.  I love you.


                         4. I don't know why, exactly God lets bad things happen to good people.  I am not privy to the larger plan that I believe God has.  And, this is annoying to me, because I like to be in control and I like to know what's going on and I like to be able to plan accordingly.  Also, I think it sucks when great people undergo horrible stuff (and, also, I think it sucks when horrible people seem to get exactly what they desire, often at the cost of the good people).  But, here's the thing: if we say that we believe in God, and if we say that we believe that God uses all things together, according to His purpose, and if we say that we think the Scripture's right and true when it says that God knows every aspect of our lives, individually and corporately, then we have to trust NOT that the bad stuff happens for a reason, but that God uses the best AND WORST points in our lives to create us into the BEST that we can be.  Without access to God's daily planner, I can't really say much more than that, but that is PRECISELY where faith comes in.  Oh, and, by the way, if we DON'T believe that those things are true of God, then we might as well stop wasting our time away with worshiping Him, praying to Him, etc.  But, I don't buy that--not for a second--I believe that God is real, and that He is exactly who He claims to be...and more.

                       And God makes it easy on us.  For Him to do unbelievably great, grand and wonderful things, He doesn't require that we have perfect, unerring faith.  In Scripture, it says that faith as small as a MUSTARD SEED is sufficient for moving MOUNTAINS.  Have you ever seen a mustard seed?  I mean, the thing is SO stinkin' SMALL!!!  We hardly have to have any faith at all...maybe even just a passing breath of it, and God will use that and work with it.  And, sometimes, if we lack faith entirely, God will use the mustard seed-sized faith of someone ELSE to work in and through us and to move those mountains.

                       Of course, when God moves mountains--and I think that He does...constantly...(perhaps we don't even see some of the mountains in our lives, as He's already dealt with them for us)--but, anyway, when God moves mountains, He may not always move them the way we wish He would.  God's answers to our prayers aren't always what we want.  But they are always, always what we need.  Does it make it easier for us to deal with pain when someone says "oh, but it's what you NEED"?  Of course not.  You'd lose lots of friends if that was your response to their suffering.  Pain is pain.  Doubt and worry are very real and not to be taken lightly.  But my firm belief is that, as we continue to connect with God, to grow in relationship with Him, and to understand more and more about who He is, and about who He calls us to be, the easier it will be for us to deal with the challenges that we face.  Whenever we can arrive at the point in our lives when our will is only and entirely in accord with God's, we will also have arrived at the point where we can trust in God's love and knowledge and power, even in the midst of our pain, and know that, truly, He has our best interests at heart and knows exactly what He's doing.

God is bigger than our most painful pains, our most worrisome worries, our most regrettable regrets, and, lest we forget, He's also bigger than our most praise-worthy achievements, our most joyful joys, and our most loving love.  Why would we want anything other than to dwell in that reality?  To believe in that Truth?  To know God inasmuch as we are able, and to do as He asks us to do, knowing that He is trustworthy and that He loves us beyond all measure?

And I started out thinking this was going to be a short post........

In A Nutshell (A very large nutshell).

Ok, so, I know I said that there would be two additional posts to follow my previous two, in order to deal with disagreements in faithful interpretation of Scripture, and perhaps I will still do that in the days to come.  However, I have just finished reading the book of Joshua and reading Psalms 78-81, and, in so doing, I was struck by some things that I believe are really important.  Basically, this is my whittled down understanding of, well, everything.  Indulge me, for a moment (or a few moments, given the typical length of my blog entries), as I take us through on a little journey through the relationship between God and humanity, and speak briefly about what I understand to be the point of it all...  


God.
   Ok, so, first, we have God (the Father, the one who's depicted with a white flowing beard, YHWH, Jehovah).  So, God has always been around--God exists outside of time, outside of space and, of course, outside of the scope of our understanding of such things.  In seeking to understand the very nature and being of God, we realize that it's impossible, and all other metaphysical sorts of questions seem simplistic in comparison.  But, anyway, God, at whatever point in reality and time, is like, "Hey, I want to put together a planet.  I want to create some beings to live there.  That seems fun, and they'll be able to serve and worship me, which would be pretty neat.  I think I'll make the earth on which they live a viable place for sufficiency.  I'll make sure they can eat and drink and rest and all that jazz, and there won't ever be any problems as long as they listen to me."  So, God creates our earth.  (By the way, whatever you may think in the evolution vs. creation debate, to me, it doesn't matter--they don't have to be mutually exclusive entities in my mind.  As I've said in other blogs, it drives me nuts that, so often, we think that "science" and "faith" can't co-exist, let alone correlate.)


So, Earth is here, and God's like, "That's awesome.  I'm really pleased with the results.  I especially love the humans I made--I'm going to go ahead and just let them take care of the land and the animals and plants on the Earth.  I created them with the capacity to do so and, of course, I'll be here for them whenever they need me.  They've gotta love and serve me, since I made them...right?!  Who else would they trust??"


Annnnnnd then, there's that whole sin thing.  That whole business of eating the fruit of the tree--the one stinkin' tree that we weren't supposed to touch--and life was a mess for the rest of us.  It's the first example of God saying, "Hey, all you have to do is listen to me, and life will be great" and us saying, "Yeaaaaah, I'm gonna go with a 'no' on that one."  We tend to judge Adam and Eve, but are we really any different?


Ok, so, God is frustrated because He's only created two people, and already, these two people have found a way to mess up.  He realizes that, perhaps, we're not so capable of tending to the things that He's given us, but He hasn't given up on us yet.  Adam and Eve are banished from the Garden of Eden, but are allowed to continue living.  They do have consequences for their disobedience, of course, but God continues to be present and available to them.


And repeat.


See, over and over and over again, the Old Testament has stories of God saying, "Hey guys!!! I'm here!!!! LISTEN--that's ALL you have to do is LISTEN to me!!!"  And people saying, "Um...I'm pretty sure I've got this one, God" or "I'm pretty sure that my statue of Baal has got this" or whatever, and refusing to listen and obey.  So then God's like, "Well...ok, if these people don't want to listen to me, then they must face the consequences.  Maybe that will help them understand!!!"  And then something unpleasant happens--you know--war, famine, plagues, etc.  And then, God's people are like, "Oh...yeah...hey God. Sooo, what's up with all the crap we're going through right now?  Can you make it stop?  We promise we'll be good and faithful.  We promise we'll tell everyone about how awesome you are and about how you saved us and, you know, all the other stuff that we totally know is true."  And God says, "Well, ok.  I mean, I'm glad you're at least coming back to talk to me.  And I love you dearly (which, ahem, is why I wanted you to obey me in the first place...don't you know I have a much better understanding of everything than all of you combined ever could?!), so sure, I'll save you from all this stuff.  Trust me, I didn't like having to do it in the first place, but your disobedience warranted it.  How else would you learn?!"  And the people respond with, "Hooray!  God you're great!  Let's write a psalm and sing and dance and feast!"  Five minutes later, "Man, life is awesome.  I'm so glad we managed to do all of this!!!" (God in the background: "Wait...did I just hear that right?  Are they taking credit for all of the good things they have??  Seriously, guys?  Didn't we just go over this?  And you're already disobeying me?  AGAIN?  Oy vey!!!) (Yes, apparently God speaks Yiddish in this retelling).


Fast forward for a little while.


God is really, really sick and tired of being ignored, betrayed, rejected, disobeyed, forgotten, denied, blamed, cursed, and all of the other things that humanity does at one point or another throughout the Old Testament.  So, finally, He's like, "Ok, Jesus, now is the time.  It's your turn.  Maybe they're not getting it because I have been speaking to them through wind and through burning bushes and through donkeys and through prophets who only sometimes have any credibility with the people who hear their messages.  If we just give them a real-life example of how to live--of what obedience looks like--then maybe they'll understand, and follow suit.  But, if you just show up as an adult, then you'll have no credibility as a human, since you won't have gone through all of that crazy infant/childhood/adolescent business that comes with being a human.  I know this woman--her name's Mary--and, of course, she's not perfect, but she's pretty great.  She's a virgin, and I'm thinking that your grand entrance into this world is going to be via her womb.  I've sent my angels to talk to her--and to her fiancé, Joseph--so that they know what's going on.  Joseph's a little hesitant about the whole
thing, but he'll come around."  


So, Jesus is on board with the whole plan, and, thus, we celebrate Christmas.  He is born in crazy conditions in Bethlehem, goes through his "terrible twos" (though, without sinning or rebelling...imagine that!), loses his parents in the synagogue as a tween (but has a really good reason), probably feel embarrassed when his voice changes, needs to start shaving (or, would, perhaps, if he had a razor), and then we meet him again at around age 30.  (Incidentally, I will be 30 this year.  Big shoes to fill.)


Jesus has always known who he is, and has always known that his role on Earth is to demonstrate two things with unshakable consistency: obedience and love.  He also knows that the only way that he can really help people understand these concepts is to tell people himself (he's heard about all of these other groups--Pharisees and Sadducees and such--who think they've got everything figured out, but they are way off base).  But, no one likes to travel alone, so Jesus goes around and enlists some guys to travel with him.  Twelve of them, to be exact.  So these 12 guys are like, "Hey, we're not doing anything all that special, and this guy seems to know what's going on.  Sure, I'll leave everything else to follow him.  I kinda want to see where this goes!"  And so, off they go, touring Israel, and attempting to deliver the messages that Jesus knows he's responsible for delivering: obedience and love.  He sets an example, even among his own disciples, through his regular prayer time to connect with God, but also demonstrates these two truths: obedience and love--through miracles, through answering the barrage of questions he receives from the many and varied doubters, through the forgiveness of all sorts of people for their sins, through stories and parables and healings.  I mean, if you want visual aids, Jesus is your guy.  He consistently honors people who demonstrate love and obedience.  He hangs out with people who have not received love and obedience from others, to ensure that they know they're just as entitled as everyone else.  He is angered by blatant acts of disobedience and hate.  


And, finally, God and Jesus have a little chat.  They both know it's coming, of course (they've known from the start), but it's not a conversation that either one of them is real eager to have: 
 "Hey God, it's me.  You know--your son--that whole fully human, fully God part of the Trinity."  
"Yeah, yeah, Jesus, I know.  You're part of me, duh."  
"Yeah, so, hey...I was just wondering...you know that stuff that's coming up?  That whole death-on-a-cross thing?  Yeah...is there any way that I can get out of that?  I mean, I'll do it if I have to, but I'm kinda hoping that there's another way out."
"Jesus, trust me...this is incredibly painful for me, too, but it's the only way.  I just love everyone else too much--and I know you do, too--but someone has to face the consequences for all of this disobedience.  And you're the only one qualified to pay for everyone else's disobedience since you don't have any of your own stuff for which to ask forgiveness."
"Yeah, I thought that's what you'd say.  Well, okay.  I'll do it.  But I'm not going to like it!"
"Neither am I, Jesus...neither am I."


Jesus knows what's going on, and he knows he can't escape.  So, he decides to eat dinner with his buddies one last time before he dies.  He tries to explain what's going on but the guys just don't get it (and maybe it's better that way).  One pal, Peter, is on to something, though, because he's like, "Dude, Jesus...man, I got your back, no matter what."  Wincing a bit (and, perhaps, wishing he didn't know quite so much about everything), Jesus says, "Yeah, thanks for the sentiment, Pete, but you're actually going to tell people you don't even know me three times before that crazy rooster we hear every morning makes a sound.  You just wait and see."


But, anyway, Jesus and his pals sit down to dinner...it's the same old stuff--bread and wine--and Jesus thinks to himself, "Hey!  Maybe if I can associate love and obedience with bread and wine--stuff that these guys eat every single day--then they'll always be reminded that those are the important things to do."  So, he breaks the bread and tells them that it's his body, and he drinks, then passes, the cup of wine, and tells them that it's his blood.  And he says, "Every time you eat bread and every time you drink wine, think of me."  The guys, still clueless, are like, "Ok, whatever you say, man."  Eventually, they'll be grateful for this moment.


Then, of course, Judas Iscariot falls into the trap of disobedience in the way of greed and betrayl.  He is a little short on cash, so he agrees to hand Jesus over for a little cushion for his bank account.  Jesus is captured (and, has already called Judas out for this, by the way), and is taken in for questioning.  No one likes his answers, despite the fact that they're true.  How, after all, can this man, this Jesus, be the Savior?  How can he be the Son of God when so many of the things that he does go against all of the laws and practices that generations of people have been perfecting (or, so they think)?  Of course, at this point, God's probably just shaking His head, thinking, "You guys are missing the point.  Again.  If I weren't God and, therefore, all-knowing, I would've lost count how many times you've almost figured it out, but not really owned Truth and, here he is, Jesus, living this life that shows you what you need to know...and, even still...you think you know better.  So. Sad."


Of course, we all know what happens.  Jesus undergoes incredible amounts of torture and humiliation and pain and agony (and, according to one account, even tries one last time to see if God can modify The Plan to save Jesus from this stuff).  And, in this act, Jesus gives us the undeniable, concrete, ultimate demonstration of the two things he's been trying to convey throughout his life: obedience and love.  And, on the cross, he dies.  He didn't deserve it.  He lived a life that, in every sense of the word, was without shame, without hate, without disobedience: Jesus lived a life that was completely without sin.  And no one else can claim that.  Ever.  


God said, "Hey guys.  You guys are constantly searching for something.  You're constantly trying to make things better.  But the things that you seek--the things that you think would make your life better--they're all wrong.  I've been here the whole time.  Don't you remember?  I made you--how could anyone know better than me what is best for you?  You want to know love?  Instead of requiring that you pay all of consequences for the wrongs that you've done (and you've done a lot of things wrong)--and, well, frankly, the consequence for all of that is death--instead of requiring that you die, Jesus went ahead and did it for you.  He wasn't real excited about it--it was actually excruciatingly painful--but that's love.  Real love. It is self-sacrificing.  Love does what everything else cannot.  I want so desperately to be with you, and to share in life with you, that all of your wrongdoings are wiped out.  Expunged.  Forgotten.  I really hope you can understand that."


Three days later, we get another major "Where were you when...?" type of moment.  Jesus, who was just witnessed by hundreds at his execution, cannot be found.  He's not in his tomb anymore, and no one can account for his body.  "Oh, wait...that's him over there!" is the eventual cry of people who, through various means (depending on the account) come to learn that Jesus is alive.  God's like, "Yes, I (well, really, YOU) needed Jesus to die to pay the consequences for your inability to love and obey well.  But, also, I--and Jesus, who is God, too--am bigger than death.  Do you believe us NOW?!"


**Cricket cricket**


Enter the Holy Spirit, Stage Right.


See, after Jesus rose from the dead, there were a whole bunch of people who finally came to believe in the Truths that He lived and that God has been trying to get through the stubborn minds and hearts of people for thousands of years.  But, even still, we weren't getting it.  And so, when Jesus was ready to leave again, He was like, "Welp, I'm headed back to Heaven now, folks, but I can tell that you need all the help you can get here on Earth.  Here's the Holy Spirit--I know, I know, you can't see it, but believe me, it's there.  The Holy Spirit is effective because it can live within you.  You can access it at any time.  You can rely on it to help you do things that, apart from it--apart from me--apart from God, you are incapable of doing.  Take advantage of the Holy Spirit, everyone--trust me, you're gonna need it."


And, of course, the stories that follow in Scripture give plenty of evidence that we repeat all of the very same things that we had up to that point.  We disobey.  We hate.  We get so caught up in the rules and regulations that we forget that, when God gave them to us, they were intended as means to an end, rather than an end in itself.  Those rules (if we choose to see them as such) are really just more specific examples of What Not To Do when what we seek is to be loving and obedient.


Fast forward, again, to today.


Not unlike many teenagers think when their parents try to advise them, there is a tendency to think "Oh, the Bible doesn't apply to us.  We're going through totally different things than they did.  It can't possibly relate.  If we were to talk to, say, Moses or Paul, they just wouldn't understand.  We have so many different things in our culture today."


Wrong.


If it isn't evident by this point in this (told-you-it-would-be) lengthy blog, the problem is that we continue to do exactly what everyone else did before us.  We disobey.  We refuse to love.  Sure, that manifests itself in different ways, but I am neither more nor less innocent than you if the underlying realities of disobedience and hate are even a small part of my life (and, of course, though I wish they weren't, they are).  


But, lest you be disheartened, scroll back up to the part where Jesus dies.  That counted for me and you too, you know.   


And, perhaps the part where we disobey and hate the most is in this: we forget--or refuse to believe--or ignore--that God's love is for everyone.  Jesus died for everyone.  He didn't just die for people who believed in Him.  He didn't just die for people who were getting things right.  On the contrary, the whole purpose behind his death--the demonstration of his love and obedience--was wholly and completely to die for people who were getting everything wrong.  


The wrongest people to ever exist are still covered by Jesus' death.


My last two posts ask--and seek to answer--questions about how we can attempt to appropriately respond to this reality, once we can finally understand--if even on a limited basis--its magnitude.  And, I stand by the things that I said (at least, until someone can help me understand things even more clearly).  But, in the end, it all boils down to this--the message that God has been trying to convey in every way possible throughout the existence of humanity--OBEY GOD.  LOVE GOD.  


We can't change anyone else.  Even Jesus, the perfect example of love and obedience, didn't change everyone during his time on Earth.  But we can ask for the Holy Spirit to dwell within us, in an effort to change ourselves.  Love and obedience.  That, my friends, is the point.










   

How the heck do we do that?

Ok, so, I realize that my last post made an assertion that we need to be people for whom their identity in Christ is so evident that hypocrisy literally cannot be attributed to us.

I also realize that we are completely incapable of achieving this on a perpetual basis and, as I said in that post, if we were perfect, we wouldn't have needed Jesus, anyway.

I still don't think I'm wrong that we ought to set our sights on that goal, no matter how lofty it may seem.

But, as with many things ("I'm going to write seven bestsellers this year!"), it's a lot easier said than done.  I'm certainly not there yet (so, yes, feel free to label me a hypocrite--it's true, though I wish it weren't), but there are some things that I have found help me to understand a bit more of what living this way might be about:

1. Give sacrificially:  I want to start by saying that I am incredibly grateful to my parents, who, from a very young age, taught me that giving is a really important part of faith.  You can, of course, read Scriptures to support that, but I would say that most people, regardless of faith, believe that generosity is a positive trait, and something toward which we ought to strive.  It wasn't until Joe and I got married, though, that I've really started to get a grasp on sacrificial giving (and, also, it was at this point that I was first really held accountable for living into the financial commitments I made to the church, in particular).

There's this whole tithing business to which we're called.  It is not suggested, it is commanded that we give back a portion (10%) of what we have--and that it be the "first fruits."  In other words, we give back to God first, and then we have the other money to do what we will (though, the hope would be that we're honoring God with how we spend both the first and last dollar).  There are lots of ways to understand tithing: is it based on net or gross income?  Is it just money to your home church, or do other faith-based entities to whom you give "count" when you seek to account for your 10%?  Is 10% enough, or is just the baseline for what we should give?

Joe and I have spent a lot of time talking and praying about this, and we've tried to ask for help from others whose giving practices we perceive to be faithful, and here's what we have determined:
          
                          A. We give based on our gross earnings, not our net.  So, when all is said and done, we end    up giving about 16.5% of what comes into our bank account, though it's only about 11% of our gross income.
                        
                          B. We give 10% to our local church's general fund first.  Then, we have a few other organizations to whom we commit money, with the goal that, each year, we'll be able to increase not only the amount (based on raises, etc.) that we give, but also the percentage that we give.

                          C. We try to give until it hurts, because that's how we understand "sacrificial": if it's easy, then it's not sacrificial.  We understand that, for different people, this means different things--though we do think that working toward a goal of giving 10% is an important one, recognizing that it can be hard to go from 0-10% quickly.  We do this financially (sometimes, it seems really tempting to spend the money that we designated as "giving" money on other things: refinishing the bathroom, taking a vacation, or whatever).  But, we also try to give in other ways.  We try to donate our time to various local mission (and, less frequently, though equally important, to domestic and international missions).  We commit to donating our (overabundant) possessions, and assemble several bags of "stuff" that someone else could really use, over the course of a year.  This year, our plan is to survey everything we have once a month and, each month, fill at least one bag with things to be donated.  Yes, some of the things that we give away are things that we no longer like/don't fit well/whatever, but even in this area, we've found that there's a way to be sacrificial.  For example, there might be a new, tags-on shirt that I could easily sell in a consignment shop or on-line or whatever, but I just donate it.  In short (well...no, not really short), we try to find ways to be giving in every area of life.
 

2. Scripture: Yes, we need to read the Bible, and should do so frequently.  But, we should also work toward wanting to read the Bible.  And I know that there are some parts that come across as rather dry (have you seen all that Levitical law?!), or really frustrating, or just plain hard to understand, but it's also true that the Bible comes alive more and more when we read it more and more.  Also, Jesus is called "The Living Word", so it stands to reason that, to understand Jesus as living Word, we ought to understand Scripture, the written Word.
     But, more than reading, we need to absorb Scripture.  Let it really sink in.  Read footnotes, refer to the related texts that are mentioned in the margins, ask questions, underline the verses (or, if you're like some of my friends who are very anti-writing in books, write on a post-it note that you keep with the passage in question).  A lot of times, I find that I need to read less Scripture quantitatively so that I can get more out of it qualitatively.  And, it seems like I can read a passage 300 times and still find something new each time, especially depending on where I happen to be in life at a given moment.  And, though it can be a slow process, we really ought to read the Bible in its entirety, and even read some history books, geology books, maps, etc., to help us understand the context of the things that we read.  I believe that this helps us to more responsibly comprehend how to apply the things that we read.  Plus, that stuff is pretty darn fascinating.
     And, if we absorb the Scripture, then we would be foolish to not apply it.  This, however, is where things get tricky, because no one can seem to agree on a lot of what Scripture means by what it says--how do we understand "love"?  How do we understand the tensions that can exist between "love" and "justice",  "compassion" and "accountability", etc.?  I want to set this conversation aside, for the most part, for 2 future blogs: one that deals with this question in a larger sense (Paul and his buddies deal with this extensively), and also, I want to look, specifically, at the incredibly sensitive issues relating to interpersonal relationships (both hetero- and homosexual), gender identity and even the question of marriage (and, yes, I realize that, in so doing, I might say things with which you disagree vehemently, and I welcome the opportunity for conversation...I think it's my responsibility to grow in understanding, which often comes as a significant byproduct of disagreements, when dealt with grace, trust and openness).  But, coming back to the beginning of the paragraph, we need to apply what we read...for the things that are easy to understand, we have little excuse, frankly.  It's clear that we're not supposed to lie, steal, boast, be unfaithful, etc.  And, for the things that we don't understand, as I've mentioned, it's up to us to actively seek out understanding.

3. Do something--anything--above and beyond for someone else every day (and don't always have the recipient be the same person).  I don't know what a regular day looks like in your life, but I also don't think that it matters much.  Choosing to do just one thing that's just a bit special each day is a really great thing, I've found (though, being honest, I haven't actually done it every day...I'm getting better, though).  Now, to be clear, I know that sometimes we can do things for others without realizing it, but what's important here, I think, is the intentionality behind the sentiment.  And, no, my regular day-to-day care of Andy doesn't count here.  Having dinner ready for Joe doesn't count, either.  But, taking a few minutes to make a cd for someone,  or to write a card (or even a Facebook message!), or holding multiple sets of double doors for a stressed out mom trying to control her unwieldy stroller, even though you might be in a rush to get somewhere else, are all things that can make a significant difference in the life of another.  Again, the point is not to see how much emotion you can elicit from the other person--it's about our growth in doing intentional acts of kindness.  If you're like me, you'll find that it feels really good to not spend so much time focusing on yourself, too.  (Though I have only done this a handful of times, it is a really great thing to be able to genuinely give in some way to someone who has hurt/wronged/forgotten you.  Doing this does not excuse the wrongs that they have done, but it may help you to deal with--and move on from--the pain by exercising grace and compassion).

4. Do something anonymous for someone else as often as possible.  At work, with somewhat refreshing frequency, someone will come through the drive-thru line and pay for the person behind them.  And that person will pay it forward by paying for the person behind them, and so on and so on.  I have also known people who pay the tolls for someone behind them on the Turnpike.  I've even known a few families who, in the midst of significant financial crises, were blessed by the receipt of envelopes jam-packed with money/coupons/etc.  It's fun to be on the giving side of things when we get to see the response of the recipient.  But, I think that giving anonymously and not waiting around to see how they respond is really valuable, too.  We don't need to be praised for what we do.  We need to work towards lives of humility, and this is one way that we can figure out what that really means. When we do things with our name connected, we receive direct praise, when we do things anonymously, but observe the positive results that it merits, that can allow us to have an inflated sense of self-pride (not that the things being done in these cases aren't good or important or valuable--they definitely are!!!).  When we do things without knowing the result, we are doing things in a way that is genuinely altruistic.  Now, I realize that Scripture doesn't spend a ton of time talking about the things that Jesus did before he was recognized by the crowds with whom he interacted, but I also realize that we're probably not so privy to the things that Jesus may have none anonymously because, well, they were anonymous.  How would the Gospel writers know about them?!

5. Pray.  I have finally gotten to the point where I can just talk to God like we're just buddies, catching up (except I have to apologize more to God than to do to most of the others in my life).  I was stuck for a long time, both because I thought that my prayers needed to sound somewhat eloquent, and also because it is hard to be honest in prayer, because I'm so stinkin' imperfect.  But, as I continue to sit more and more comfortably in the reality that God already knows all of that stuff, and that he both loves and forgives me, and that being dishonest in one prayer only means there's something else for which I need to ask forgiveness is the next prayer, I become better and better at this kind of interaction (and I find that I am able to gain more and more from it, as God responds to us as we are, and so, if "who I am" is someone who is honest about my sin, then God will respond accordingly, while, if "who I am" is someone who chooses to ignore/avoid my sins, then there's much less to work with.  Granted, I firmly believe that God can--and will--do anything with anyone, but I still think that my ability to respond is directly related to my openness.  Plus, sometimes, I just really want to vent, and no one else wants to hear about it, or, I don't want anyone else to hear about it.  God's really great in those moments, too.

6. Talk about your faith.  And not just with people who you think identify closely with your beliefs (though that's important, too).  This doesn't have to all be lumped under the scary term of "evangelism", as it tends to be understood these days, either.  I feel like so many people think that evangelism is all about handing out tracts, overwhelming total strangers with stories about your life that have no context and, expecting said strangers to think that they should believe what you do because you have interesting stories (that may or may not be anything like what they, themselves, have experienced).  Now, let me be clear: I do think that there's a real need for people who can actively engage in conversation with people--even strangers--and who can talk about faith.  But, I also think that, sometimes (often?), we miss the point:  it's a conversation and that means that the "evangelizer" ought not dominate (I can't imagine that this is very effective, anyway).  Plus, it's important to remember that anyone can be convinced of anything.  If I can convince you that one thing is true, then the next person to come by can just as easily un-convince you.  It's not up to us to change the minds, or hearts of the people with whom we interact.  But, it seems to me that, if we say that our identity is in Jesus Christ, then that reality ought to be a part of our conversations--it's certainly a part of the context in which we talk about other things, and, thus, it's helpful and important to talk about it.  I have had the great joy of being able to have this sort of conversation on many occasions at work.  I really value the atmosphere that exists at my store, as there's an attitude of acceptance and compassion and even of genuine interest in the varying perspectives that the employees hold (and, trust me, they are widely varied).  This is a huge gift.

7. Doubt.  Ask questions. Repeat.  I think we're all foolish plenty of times in our lives, and that this especially manifests itself when we pretend to know everything about our faith--and the faith of others.  This attitude is responsible for lots and lots of pain, violence, anger, war, etc.  I mentioned above that it's important to continuously grow in our understanding, and that sometimes that can be fostered through the disagreements that we have with others.  The other thing that I adamantly hold to be true (which seems ironic) is that doubt is the other part of our faith that helps us to grow.  Faith, of course, is defined by the very fact that we can't witness the reality of the thing in its fullness, but that we believe it to be entirely true, anyway.  But, our faith in the things that we can't see can be strengthened exponentially by seeking to understand the things that we can see.  The very premise of God is too large for us to grasp, but we are more capable of understanding God's magnitude by understanding elements of who God claims to be (which is part of what I think God was thinking in giving us Jesus Christ, by the way).  But, doubt is critical to this, as it is to the study of anything.  Doubt is the basis for science, after all (which is why I have an incredibly hard time understanding why there's so much tension between science and faith--in my experience, they seem to feed off of each other, not be mutually exclusive bases for one's perspective).  If we just believe something to be true, we don't necessarily feel the need to pursue it further.  If, on the other had, we find that doubt some--or all--of something, then we will study, measure, sort and question until we can arrive at a reasonable conclusion.  Of course, if we all use differing evidence to support our conclusions, then it holds that we will invariably disagree, but, to me, that just means that more studying, measuring, sorting and questioning is in order!

With that being said, I think I'll end this ridiculously lengthy posting here, as it seems that these notions of doubt and study will segue will into the two future postings that I have promised...