Cutters & Introspection

This has been a long time in the making.

Let’s start with two things:

1. I know many of you consider yourselves Christian, but for those of you that aren’t: This note is written under the premise that there IS an all-powerful and loving God, that he sent his Son Jesus Christ to die on the cross for our sins, and that the Bible is true. I believe all of these things whole-heartedly—and if you would like to discuss those matters, please send me a message. I’d be glad to. But if you decide to read this note, please read it under the assumption that Christianity (as described in the Bible, NOT in modern society) is the only true way to God. If you cannot read from that perspective, I’d advise you not to continue.
2. Let’s say—just for a second—that all the cutters & suicide attempters in the world are right. Let’s begin with the idea that all the self-mutilators know what they’re doing—and do so with just cause and reasonable thought. We always assume they’re wrong. Do me a favor and forsake that given-by-society pattern of thinking, and give them the benefit of the doubt for the next few minutes.

Alright, let’s begin. This note is ultimately about introspection, but I am going to take the long road to get there… but once we’re there its really quite short. Ha.

As Christians (and I tend to use that term loosely in modern societal context), we readily admit that we are “sinners in need of a Savior” (and I am NOT denying that). Next to many “Christian-fish” bumper decorations, you’ll find a bumper sticker that reads something like, “Not perfect, Just Forgiven.” (Which, in my opinion, is a terrible way to “excuse” driving like an a-hole.) We talk about how broken and “fallen” we are. We readily quote Romans 3:23 where Paul writes, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” We are quick to excuse our sin merely as “forgiven” (and may I add: and rarely continue on in true repentance.) And we are, indeed, broken, sin-ridden, fallible creatures according to Scripture. It is no overlooked fact in Christendom that every human is a sinner (although we may take that fact far too lightly often). Again, as Christians, we talk about how we’re sinful, broken, screw-ups only deserving of the death that Jesus bore on the cross. We know that the only way to solve this sin problem is by the shedding of Jesus’s perfect blood as the atoning sacrifice, for once and for all.

So, let us return to the point about cutters, suicide attempters and self-mutilators—and allow me to explain why they may be far closer to correctness than we often think. Perhaps this “problem” that always stems from deep within the soul of a person, is not a problem at all, but a proper view of sin? As Christians, seekers of God, and studiers of Scripture, we know that our sin so separates us from God and if God was less merciful it would be us accepting the lashes, wearing a ring of thorns on our head (I dare not call it a crown, as we are not so deserving), and nailed to that cross. Many ancient religious systems require bloodshed for the atonement of sins—even many modern cults require the shedding of blood (whether it is the entire spilling of the blood of an animal, or the partial spilling of your own blood, or anothers). It almost seems engrained within us (across the globe, across language barriers, across vast cultural differences) that in order to achieve merit with God, SOMETHING’s blood must be spilled. In order to earn “rightness with God” (or righteousness), blood must be spilled. Where Christianity differs in this arena is that God himself came to Earth (incarnate) and became the bloodshed for us, covering and atoning sin once and for all—freeing us from the burden of bloodshed. If we realize the necessity of bloodshed to atone for our sins, but not Christ—we are left with three options: the blood of animals, the blood of others (highly frowned upon), and our own blood. When there is a proper view of sin, without a proper view of Christ, the proper response it seems is to shed our own blood—and our own life—to atone for the sins that we cannot bear on our own. Maybe its not even specifically the sins you’ve committed to bring you to that point with a razorblade in your skin—maybe it was the sins of another that have so profoundly affected you that you cannot bear it and what it has turned you into. What if trying to bleed out the pain comes from the deep-rooted knowledge that the shedding of blood is the only thing that can save us from our sins? Again, if we have a proper view of sin (Scripturally), but not a proper view of Salvation in Jesus Christ; the we realize that our sin makes us deserving of death—and without the hope of Salvation, then what else is there to do then spilling our own blood to atone for our sins? Unfortunately, because we are indeed NOT blameless and righteous, our blood—much like that of a spotless lamb or a fatted calf—is totally useless and spilled in vain.

Without the hope found within the Gospel of Jesus Christ, but with a Biblical view of sin (even if you didn’t read the Bible to get that view—truth is truth.), it is near impossible to find any sort of worth in yourself.  If you can see all the filthiness and life-threatening toxic waste in your life, but cannot see the fact that you are created as an divine-image bearer, the object of the longing and affection of a God who is the very definition of “love”, you will not be able to find any sort of “self-worth”. There is no self-esteem for someone with a full view of their sin-infested heart that has not experienced the love of the saving God. And allow me to take this opportunity to make this a touch personal and say this: I was raised in the church—and I responded to an altar-call at seven-years-old—but there were times, mostly in high school, when I was thoroughly depressed. I suppose you could call it “sad clown” syndrome—I feel I masked it well… I cannot count the hours I spent in my bed sobbing thinking about how much better off the world (including myself) would be if I wasn’t there. It wasn’t selfish (as many view those with suicidal thoughts, suicide attempters, and suicide committers)—but it was a thorough recognition that things were f****d up, and I was not created with the capacity to deal with it. Often, however, in those times when I was in my darkest places—I could hear the Holy Spirit in the back of my head saying, “I AM your worth. You ARE my child and I LOVE you.” Now, somewhere between six and ten years later, I can say with confidence that the only thing standing between me sitting at my desk today and the progression of my depression to the point of self-mutilation (at the very least) was the God who saved me at seven telling me of His worth in me. I CANNOT imagine what those darkest of places would have looked like without the comfort of the Holy Spirit and hope in Jesus Christ. When one is cognizant of the gravity of sin, but not of the extrinsic value placed on EVERY human being (merely by being created in God’s image), and moreover the extrinsic value placed upon us that God sent his Son to shed the necessary blood as atonement for our very severe sin problem, it seems that it would be correct to realize that we have no intrinsic value, and are not deserving of things like “happiness” or even life.

Our value is NOT intrinsic. Now, don’t get me wrong—thinking that I am saying that non-Christians have no value. That would be a preposterous statement. All of humanity is created in the image of God—and THIS gives EVERY human extrinsic value as an image-bearer of the Creator. (So when you decide to treat someone poorly, no matter what wrong they did to you, please keep in mind that you are abusing an image-bearer of God.) Our very nature is sin-ridden. I think we have well-established the fact that Christians openly admit that we are sinners—and that short of the saving grace of God (seen in the life, death, and resurrection of His son Jesus Christ) we are deserving of nothing short of death and eternal separation from the very definition of holiness, righteousness, justice and love. IF God hadn’t so loved the world that He sent His only begotten Son that whoever believed in Him should not perish but have eternal life, we KNOW that we are not worthy of anything more than excruciating death (and please note that the term “excruciating” originates from the process of death on a cross).

I want to reiterate that our value is not intrinsic. As humans we have value bestowed upon us as image-bearers of God. As Christians, we have a great deal of value (that we do NOT deserve) thrust upon us by God the Father because He views us in lieu of the atoning blood of His Son. Galatians 3:26-27 says, “For you are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus. For all you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”  God the Father looks upon us with grace and mercy because He is viewing us as though each and every person who has accepted the salvation of Jesus Christ IS His beloved Son. We talk often of “our worth in Christ”. We tell girls struggling with identity issues to find “your worth in Christ.” Perhaps it would be better worded, “Christ’s worth in us.” You can’t find worth within something that has no worth intrinsically. It is certainly not “OUR worth”. You must go to the source of the worth. You must go to Christ. We are sinful. We are broken. We are wrong. Our value is extrinsic—coming only from God (whether you are Christian or otherwise).

Now, allow me to ask this:

What demon of Hell (and I mean that literally) convinced us that introspection is a good idea to draw any sort of knowledge, wisdom, goodness, etc. from?!  This whole topic started brewing about in my head on April 25^th when Pastor Mark said in a sermon, “Don’t believe everything you think. You’re a hypocrite and blind. You may be wrong sometimes.” The wheels kept spinning when in a conversation in a friend (who spoke oodles about how sinful they were) who quoted introspection as their main source of knowledge on a topic. It all came to a culminating, “Ok, God, I’ll write about this…” this morning when a different friend asked me what she could put in a Bible study for a transformed & redeemed cutter. We are broken, broken people—and intrinsically there is NO good for us to draw from—so why do we try? Its like trying to find proper chemistry principles in a Dr. Seuss book. We’ve already acknowledged that we’re irreparably horrible without the saving grace of Jesus Christ. We know our only redeeming quality is that we’ve been redeemed through Christ. Now, you may argue that this very topic came from within my own sinful brain—but I do not write without first learning (from sources outside of myself) what I am talking about. Let me ask you—how many times in Scripture do you see Jesus—the God-man—turning to introspection for answers? Ok, now that you’ve read the entire New Testament seeking the answer to that question you should be able to answer this one: How many times do we see Jesus crying out to his Father in Heaven for answers? Even if you did not search Scripture for the answer, if you have been educated in the story of the life & death of Jesus Christ you should be able to cite in the garden shortly before Judas betrayed him and on the cross. Repeatedly through the gospels it talks about Jesus pulling away from the crowd to pray. Even the God-man himself did not rely on introspection—when he was being tempted by Satan himself—he relied on Scripture. When he was hanging from that cross—he cried out to God. Why, then, do we—followers of Jesus Christ—think that “looking within ourselves” is a reasonable source of anything worthwhile? If we do accidentally find anything worthwhile within ourselves, it is only there because it has been gifted to us by God. Why not start our search for knowledge & worth with the very origin point of knowledge, worth, love, truth and beauty rather than trying to beat our way through the briars of our own i

Provision

I have been pondering a lot on the ways God has provided for me in the past few weeks. It all started two weeks ago at Bible study when I kind of impromptu-shared what I’m about to share with you with my community group (and it was after that that I wrote that last note about the rain). Last Friday night I found myself downtown watching a friend’s band play with some other bands a local church on that stage at Westlake Center. One of the guitarists in the band told a story of how God had provided for him… and it perpetuated my thought process… tonight, I ran to the bank, deposited a check, went grocery shopping, and immediately got a text from my bank saying my account was overdrawn. (No worries, I got it all figured out now…) My first response was to get really frustrated with myself… because this certainly isn’t the first time I’ve overdrawn my bank account. I was almost in tears on my way home (before I got there to figure out what the heck was going on with my bank stuff) from the grocery store– wondering what in the heck I was going to do… because, earlier today I got an email from the company I had been doing freelance writing for saying they no longer needed my services. I was so frustrated and so down on myself and so overwhelmed with “What the hell am I gonna do now?”

The house at the corner of my block has a few marvelous rose bushes. Once I got to the corner, I stopped to smell the roses, as I always do– and on the verge of tears I inhaled that sweet smell and I could hear God whisper in my heart, “Are you kidding me right now, Kim? Are you seriously about to cry about this? Have I EVER not provided for you?” He has never let me down. Never. I finished smelling the roses (the big bright pink one smells the best), went into my apartment, put my groceries away– and sat down to write this. I’m really not sure if I’m writing it for me or for you at this point… but I hope and pray you are blessed and encouraged by it.

Shortly before I graduated high school in 2004, I decided that I was going to go on a six month mission trip to Haiti. Between airfare and surviving in Haiti for six months, it was going to cost me around $4,200. I had no money. I needed a thousand dollars to just GET there. Within a month before my departure, I received two $1,000 checks, and over the course of the next few weeks I received approximately $1,000 in smaller donations. I left for Haiti without the full amount I needed… but while I was there a bit more support came in… and I was able to complete the six months there… except, in mid November, about a month before I was going home, I realized that it was God’s call for me to stay another six months. I went home for Christmas, with no finances to go back in January.

About twelve days before I was contracted to be back at the school I was working at, a lady at my church came up to me and told me she had a ton of frequent flier miles and she’d like to buy my plane ticket back to Haiti. We bought the ticket, and I returned to Haiti… again, without the finances I needed to stay there the full time– but again, our God who is SO good was gracious enough to provide for me.

Shortly before I was scheduled to return home, I decided I wanted to go to Liberty University. They require a $250 confirmation deposit once you’ve made the decision to go there. Did I have an extra $250 lying around? Absolutely not. Did I receive an anonymous check (to this day, I do not know who it came from) for $250 with just enough time to deposit the money and send it to LU before their deadline? Absolutely. MY God is faithful to provide. I went home from Haiti.

It was time to buy a plane ticket to get to VA to go to school. Did I have the money? No. Did God again provide? Yes. I got a job soon after I got to Liberty, and began saving… so I could go home for my brother’s wedding. However, going home for the wedding meant I wasn’t going to get to go home for Christmas. While I was at my brother’s wedding, somehow… the girls on my hall managed to raise enough money to buy me a plane ticket home for Christmas. How they did this is beyond me… but I got to go home for Christmas…

Onto my second semester at Liberty… about halfway through the semester, I ran out of money to pay my tuition payments. Through a number of avenues, God provided the finances to complete the year. (and by “provide the finances” I mean I needed about $2,500) I didn’t have money to go home for the summer, though, so I moved down to Savannah, GA where I lived with a friend and got a job and started saving for my sophomore year.

I made it through my sophomore and first semester of my junior year with minimal financial difficulties (at least… not ones that were a matter of lack of God’s provision, but rather LU Financial Aid & Student Accounts departments screwing me over repeatedly). I was planning to pack up and hit the mission field again, as I had an internship opportunity in Chile. I started raising the money I needed to do that… when I was told by my academic advisor that I had missed a prerequisite course, and would not graduate on time unless I took it that summer. In addition to that… the finances for the trip weren’t coming in… AND I could either take the course that summer ($1,000) or take another full semester of college ($13,500). I opted to stay in Lynchburg that summer and take the course.

AND- by the way- if you ever want to experience a humbling experience- tell people you’re going to be a missionary, start raising funds– then tell people the trip is off, and ask them where you should send their check to.

Did I mention I had no place to live that summer and had to move off the dorm in two weeks– oh, and also didn’t have the money for the course? Within two weeks of my move-out deadline, a couple friends came to me and offered to let me live in their apartment for WAAAAY below the cost of rent. MY God is faithful and MY God provides. Unfortunately, however, I had come down to 24 hours before the $1,000 was due for my course fee. I had pretty much resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to get to graduate on time, when I got a call and was told that my little brother would spot me $500 if I could come up with the rest. Feeling hopeless still, I went out to watch some soccer at the intramural fields. During the game, I got a call saying some close family friends (who knew nothing of my financial struggles) felt God leading them to give me $450. I had about $60 in my bank account already. I stood at the back of the soccer field and cried. The next day when the offices opened up, I went and paid the $1,000 for my course. MY God is faithful and MY God provides. I took the course. And started my senior year.

My senior year at Liberty was pretty hard for me financially. I couldn’t work as many hours because of my course load, and the costs of a number of my courses were SUPER high because they were art & design courses. Somehow, I managed to scrounge through my first semester. Second semester, however…

At one point in the second semester of my senior year, I had a big project due in one of my courses– and no money to buy supplies. Anonymously, $35 was given to me– and it covered the cost of the project. THAT store is here: http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=392404398692

A little later that year, it was time to print my portfolio (you don’t graduate from a graphic design program without a portfolio. Again, I was down to the final days before I had to have it all done… still without the finances. Again, I had resigned myself to failure because I had no money to complete that which was required of me. I was walking back to my dorm… this time literally in tears… listening to a rendition of “How Deep The Father’s Love For Us”. For some reason that I cannot explain, I decided to check my mailbox before heading to my dorm. I remember quite clearly that it took a few tries to get the combination right because I couldn’t see through the tears. Once I got the box opened, I found bill statements… which only furthered my distress. But, amidst the bills’ envelopes, there was one hand written one. I opened that one first… and inside there was a check for the exact amount my portfolio would cost plus the $100 graduation fee that I needed to pay that week. MY God is faithful, and MY God provides.

My God has never not provided for my needs. And I even left out a number of in-between stories of God’s provision for the sake of space… but He is SO faithful to provide. And I must say, sometimes I hadn’t even PRAYED for provision… I had just resigned myself to failure… but despite MY lack of faith– God still provided.

I don’t know if you did the math there… but not including the in-between stories I left out and extremely low “rent” I had staying at my friends’ apartment in Lynchburg… that was just around $10,435 in God’s provision over the course of five years. MY God is faithful, and MY God provides… man, and this note is ONLY about financial provisions. I could attempt to write about how He has been faithful in other ways… but I’d never stop writing.

It has never come early, nor in excess… but it always comes.
I’m still not sure if writing this all out was for me or for you… but I’ll just end with this:

God is faithful, and God provides.

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Weather Systems & God’s Love

Its been a while. I haven’t written anything that required any sort of real commitment from me in about eight months. I came to the conclusion a few months ago that it was because for the most part, my life has been in this sort of whirlwind for quite some time—over a year now. Between graduating from college, trying to figure out life, deciding to move back to the west coast and a whole slew of other factors, my life has been a big pot of confusion. Probably about two months ago, I finally resigned to the fact that God’s plan for me involves me living in Seattle (something I fought against for the better part of six years). Since then, the whirlwind has begun to slow, the confusion has begun to settle, and I am finally regaining some sort of lucidity to my view of life. I think, over the course of today, God has once again placed something to write on my heart and mind—we shall see by the end of this… I take any sort of writing involving God quite seriously; as I desire neither to defame Him, nor ill-represent Him. I take His glory seriously, and I can only hope and pray that by the end of this musing someone will be encouraged, challenged, or somehow spurned on toward the loving God I (and hopefully you) serve. That is probably the longest disclaimer I have ever written. 

… so it begins.

It was, and is a beautiful day today. 

This morning and early afternoon it was sunny and warm with a slight breeze that begged me to let my hair down and feel the strange power of a soft breeze pull my hair behind me. It was a beautiful day. 

When I left Bible study this evening, and continuing now, it is a downpour. My sweater is soaked from the collaborate eight blocks I had to walk from Sally’s house to the bus stop, and from my bus stop to my apartment. My hair that I let free in the wind earlier is a little knotty and frizzy now. It is a beautiful day. 

I find it so strange how people base the beauty of a day on the blueness of the sky and the warmth of the air. We dismiss rainy and blustery days as “nasty” or “terrible” or “awful” when the fact of the matter is… it is a beautiful day. Can you (worshipers of Jesus Christ, Son of Yahweh), honestly say that any day in this creation is anything short of beautiful? When did we reduce the definition of “beauty” from things that tell of The Creator to “things that make us feel good” or “things that we like”? 

How did we become more concerned regarding the affect humidity has on our hair then our Salvation and righteousness when God our Father in Heaven is screaming to us with each rain droplet “I love you!”? 

Tonight, sitting at the bus stop after Bible study, it started quiet—hearing the whisper of His love for me as the rain fell. The roof of the stop I was at was made of a foggy Plexiglas that was shaped something like an ice tray. There was a streetlight above that. Each drop of rain splashed into a little cove on the roof above me, making silhouettes and shadows of the ripples that resulted from the introduction of a new drop to the already-formed pool. It was like He was coaxing me to let go of my attachment to my social circle and listen for His voice. I stopped texting & Facebooking from my phone and started to watch and listen. The droplets slowly became melodic… symphonic. Even the jet that flew overhead seemed to harmonize with the orchestra growing around me. 

The whisper turned into a roar and I was overwhelmed by His love for ME. The God who holds it all together… loves me. The God who knows where a raindrop will land before it leaves it’s home in the cloud… loves me. The God who carefully orchestrated each surface to be struck by those rain drops… loves and cares for me. Moreover, Scripturally, the only thing we know that God loved enough to make in His image are humans… He doesn’t love the raindrop he so elegantly placed nearly as much as He loves me. The whole world glistens with raindrop-shaped love letters from my Creator God. The wind still pushes my hair and caresses my face—and we know the Holy Spirit moves like a wind… 

And we assign rainy days words like “nasty”. God is good. Scripture defines Him as love & loving. His lovingkindness endures forever—and we dismiss blustery days as anything but a message of His love for us. Just because a day doesn’t fit what we “like” doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful. My mind keeps returning to how we define beauty… we have allowed society to define “beauty” when the definition of “beauty” should be A. things that bear the image of God (humans) and B. Things that proclaim His glory. Sunny days proclaim His glory. Stormy days proclaim His glory. Nature SCREAMS His name. People bear His image, and are therefore glorious (since He is glorious). 

What if, rather than cursing the days we deem less-than-worthy of the title “beautiful”, and spitting in the face of the One who gave us the day to begin with, we stopped caring about what we looked like and how we felt, moved beyond emotion and into worship. What if, rather than putting up an umbrella to shield yourself from the rain (that may destroy your hairdo, oh no!) and embraced the renewing and refreshing love that God is showering on you? What if we stopped singing “rain, rain go away…” and replaced it with something more along the lines of “Oh Lord, You’re beautiful… your face is all I see…” What if we put aside society’s definition of a beautiful day and understood that every day is beautiful, no matter what the weather, because God—the Almighty Creator and Savior—made it and gave it to us when we are deserving of nothing more than the death He bore on the cross. Quite frankly, we don’t even deserve the rainy & stormy days… but He gives them to us because He loves us. If every day for the rest of my life is too windy for an umbrella, and so rainy it seems the drops are coming up from the ground, I will rejoice and be glad in it… and I will listen for the love song He’s writing as the drops make landfall. 

My very first wedding dream.

They say every girl grows up dreaming of her wedding. Not so, in my case. The closest I’ve come to dreaming about my wedding was a decision I made after reading numerous Marvel Comic books… that my father will be wearing a pinstripe suite like The Kingpin’s. I just think that would be spectacular. ANYHOW. I had my very first wedding dream this morning, right before I woke up. I want to tell you about it.

It all started when the groom and I arrived at the venue to get all ready and stuff. (I’m not sure… but I’m pretty sure the groom isn’t supposed to see you before? Oops.) Let me tell you about the groom, though– no, on second thought, let me just tell you he was a crush I had for about six minutes mainly during freshman orientation at Liberty in 2005. For prosperity’s sake, my pride’s sake, and the sake of an inside joke, we shall refer to him as “Squeader”. He had a full-on-mountain man beard. NOW let me tell you about this so-called venue. It seemed to be some sort of a mall/large event venue. My wedding was supposed to take place at 9pm in the “viewing room”. Which was a large room made of glass with a full view of the food court & Macy’s storefront. It must have been a very busy shopping day, as there were large lines of people in and all around in the parking lot. Everything was going swimmingly, and I was totally emotionally composed… that is, until, I realized I had forgotten to get some bridesmaids. Moreover, the wedding took place in Seattle, so the candidates I would normally choose were something like three thousand miles away. It was still early, however, so I decided to take care of one other thing first. I had a very uneven haircut that I needed to get squared away– so, naturally, I went to my very well-known hair stylist of a friend (who for some reason had a very fancy salon in the mall)–Ruth Sandell (who, for those of you don’t know… is not a hair stylist and lives in California). After moving me to three different chairs in the salon, she sat me in what looked essentially looked like a bright blue lazy boy that was on the standard salon-chair pole. We talked for a moment, before I realized the gravity of not having any bridesmaids. At this point… I freaked out. And ran out of the salon. (Much like Wimp-lo in Kung Pow and his “stop looking at me” line) I was on my way outside when I ran into Squeader… and he saw that I had been crying– and he was very nice about it all– but also in a hurry to get his suite on (as he was dressed a touch like Sherlock Holmes at that point)– so he left. I continued my journey to the outside, and got on the phone with my mother. I asked her if my sisters were dressed well enough to be my bridesmaids– and she said no. (and that I needed to get my butt over to the “dressing room” to put my dress on) So I started running to random people in the lines seeing if I knew anyone well enough to declare them “bridesmaid”. I didn’t. Did I mention it was pouring down rain? Well. It was pouring down rain. After not finding any bridesmaids, and realizing I was supposed to be walking down the isle in about 5 minutes, I ran inside– only to find that I had gone in the wrong entrance of the mall and was now lost. I ran up to the girl at the Estee Lauder counter and asked her how to get back to the Viewing Room. She started talking about her product– until I screamed (rather dramatically), “I’M SUPPOSED TO BE GETTING MARRIED IN FIVE MINUTES!!!” She pointed me in the correct direction, and I made a mad dash for the FASTEST (pink) escalator I had ever been on. While running to the Viewing Room, I got pulled into a large dark closet. Upon someone turning a flashlight on, I realized that this was the dressing room, and it was my mother that had pulled me in; and my Aunt Wendy that had turned on the flashlight. They helped me get my dress on as I tried to gain my composure… and then took me out to the Viewing Room– where I walked down the isle with wet hair and no makeup. I like to think he still married me… but I woke up before I got all the way down the isle. Squeader definitely never made it into his suite, however… he was still dressed like Sherlock Holmes… which may have been the highlight of my wedding.

There you have it. My very first wedding dream.

Adopted

(For those on facebook & the city… I rarely post things here. The illusive references to other writes are illusive because the other writings are elsewhere.)

It is not uncommon for me to “publish” writings regarding personal events in life, but I refer to them in vague generalities– or perhaps I write a piece that has everything to do with a circumstance in my life, but I do not mention it at all. This is not one of those posts. This is very much personal to me, and the situations from which forthcoming disclosed sentiments arise are about to be displayed in a way I never truly intended them to be displayed. However, from time to time God does such a work in my life, or He causes the realization of something that I cannot keep it to myself. Since my second semester at LU when Johnnie Moore stood in front of the class and announced, “You are another kind of Hitler if you do not help someone out of selfish fear.”, I cannot often keep the things I am learning to myself. How selfish would it be to learn or realize something about my Savior and not share it with my loved ones? Mind you, I am not sharing from the standpoint of “look what I learned!” but “I want you to learn this without the labor & pain it took me”. I am often wary writing in this context, out of fear of pride or arrogance. My desire is to present this to you very humbly. In order to present what I learned this evening to you, I am going to have to go a little deeper than I am comfortable with regarding parts of my past. I digress.

This evening at church, after the sermon, Pastor Tim stood up in front of the congregation with a loaf of bread. He was speaking about communion, the bread naturally being the representation of Christ’s body. Tears welled up in his eyes when he began to speak of how God gave His only son for us– and that he could not even come close to fathoming what this meant because he (Tim) would do ANYTHING to keep his eleven week old daughter safe. He tore the loaf of bread in half with those same tears in his eyes, speaking of how God sent His Son to the cross for us. He killed His only Son to make us His children.

Immediately, my brain flooded with all the verses regarding adoption that I have ever learned. Here are some of them:

Romans 8:14-16: “For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, “Abba! Father!” The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God”

Romans 8:23: “And not only this, but also we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body.”

Ephesians 1:4-6: “Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him in love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved.

Now, some of you know bits & pieces of my interactions with adoption, some of you know most of the story, and some of you know none at all. This is where it gets personal. I have three adopted siblings, and two biological siblings. Just for clarity, allow me to list my siblings and their ages for you (in the order they came into my family):

David- biological brother- 27

Me- biological- 23

Cjandis- adopted when I was nine- 19

Chris- adopted when I was nine- 18

Betsy- biological- 11

Natasha- adopted when I was 17- 21

When we adopted Cjandis & Chris, I remember very vividly my parents asking David & I if it would be ok. Cjandis & Chris are biologically our cousins, and they needed a new home. They informed us that it would mean fewer Christmas presents, less exciting vacations, and even less attention, as everything that we had would change from being spread among a family of four to being spread among a family of six. David and I both acquiesced, knowing full well that this was the right thing to do. They immediately became part of our family. I quite honestly remember very little about life before them– just bits and pieces. I was still young enough that my sinfulness was in its early stages, and my selfishness could be counted as synonymous with childish folly and not a conscious decision to choose myself over my Savior. This, even, is not the part of my life I want to discuss; I just wanted to clarify the differences between this and what ensues.

When we adopted Natasha… the story was completely different. We were never asked if it was ok– at least, not that I remember. My mother swears we were– perhaps I was at band or fastpitch practice. Either way, I was never given the option to say no. I am sure I wouldn’t have said no, because I was well aware that the Bible tells us to take care of orphans, but I feel like the value was in the question asked, not necessarily the answer given. I digress. I was also seventeen. My sinfulness had far progressed from childish folly to a self-serving form of idolatry that was more prone to hate than love.

When it was decided that we were going to adopt her, it seemed as though my life was ripped apart. It seemed every decision made was in effort to bring her to the US. We moved from the house I grew up in, certain events got put in hiatus. The summer prior to her arrival, when she was in the US to visit us, everything was about her. Once she finally did come to live with us in the spring of my junior year of high school, the rate at which my life was tearing apart accelerated exponentially. It seemed like everyone who once loved me turned their attentions from me to her. I’m not going to cite specific instances because there are people that will read this that were involved, and my desire is not to hurt them (and if you think you may be one of them, please be assured that you are long since forgiven because I came to a much more profound understanding of the forgiveness offered in Christ since this time in my life). It seemed that everything was always about her. It was like standing talking to someone when a lady with a baby and a puppy walk by. That person’s attention is drawn away from you because something more exciting than you has come along. I felt that every bit of my own name that I had built was stripped from me, and I became the “adopted Belarusian’s sister”. I grew to hate her. I grew to loathe the fact that she had seemingly stolen love that was rightfully mine. My senior year of high school, if I was not in school, or in a school-related extracurricular activity, I was asleep… I was depressed, and whatever dreams I could have were certainly better than my reality at that moment. I felt totally alone, abandoned, and if you’ve read the series I wrote called “ground zero”, this is probably where my doubting began.

Here, upwards of seven years later, I have come a long way. I have given up on hate, finding that it DID get me somewhere, but that somewhere was only farther from the Father who loves me. I have found an immense value in the divine power and importance of forgiveness. I have decided to make a conscious effort to love & be a big sister to Natasha. However, a few observations remain seven years into this journey. Hypothetically, if this gets into the hands of my parents, siblings, or otherwise familial attached people, this is the part that might get me into a little bit of trouble, as it is apparently not good for to air a bit of family dirty laundry. It is, however, crucial to what ensues. If Natasha finds this, I hope & pray she reads and learns from the next part, but in all likelihood, her actions will be to only dislike me more for talking to the world about this. Today, living with Natasha is near impossible. My parents are on the verge of kicking her out, and here is why: She is ungrateful, hateful & will not accept their rules and rebuke when rules are broken. She is disrespectful and intentionally hurtful to my parents & other siblings (but most specifically my mother). There have been numerous occasions where she has declared that she wish she never came to America to live with my family, and wishes she had stayed in the orphanage. That is all I will say– I do not wish to damage her reputation nor further damage the relationship between her and I, but this bit, again, is crucial to the lesson I learned tonight.

This is where Pastor Tim standing up there talking about God sending His Son to die so he could make us His children comes in… and allow me to make a few things VERY emphatically clear before I continue:

1. By no stretch of the imagination to I believe that my parents at any point were trying to hurt me at all. They did not intend to “sacrifice” me on Natasha’s behalf. I know they love me, and were only trying to help her. I know that it was neither of my parent’s intentions to “turn their backs on me” for her. Moreover, I know that they did not, in fact, do so– but I, in my infantile understanding of the situation, felt that way. I love my parents are know that they seek nothing but the best for me.

2. Since learning the meaning of forgiveness through other situations in my life, I have forgiven all those who I felt “sinned against me”. I feel totally reconciled. The bitterness I once harbored is gone, and the “offenses” spoken of are no longer held to any of the mentioned people’s account.

3. By NO means am I trying to compare myself to Jesus Christ. Comparing my mere woes to His crucifixion is ludicrous.

Ok.

I sat in church tonight, and for once, identified with Christ. I cannot identify with the physical pain he went through, and I cannot fathom the feeling of being separated from God… but in some, miniscule way, I understood this: God crucified His Son so that He (God) could adopt orphans. God put His Son through Hell, so He could express love to the dirty & left out. God turned His back on His Son so He could turn His face upon those who had no reason to receive that love. Watching Pastor Tim’s eyes fill with tears as he spoke of how he would do everything he could to keep his little girl safe is somehow understandable, especially to parents. What I hadn’t thought of before, however, was when that little girl grows up— how would she feel if her father turned his back on her to love another child? Oh wait… this topic is all too familiar. When Jesus cried out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” God had turned His back on His only Son to choose us. If it was me on that cross, I would no doubt spend my last moments hating everyone God came to save; crucifying me so He could adopt the less deserving orphans. This is obviously a huge difference between Christ and me. As He hung there on that cross, He asked God to FORGIVE the very people He was dying for. He humbly accepted the punishment for everyone else’s sins. He had an attitude of submissiveness, and He shared in the Father’s love for the people God the Father gave sonship, through adoption. In that moment, God gave His Son for an orphan. It’s in this moment that I cease to be a replaced daughter with an adopted sister, and I become the orphan with a crucified Savior. I cease being she who was offended, and become she who commits the offense. I am adopted by a Father who chose me, the unlovely, over His blemishless Son.

After realizing this, the parallels only grew. I remembered all the seemingly horrible things Natasha had said and done in clear defiance of my parents… and how offensive I found these things… and could no longer contain myself. Oh how many times have I, in light of my adoption as a daughter of THE Father, have I spat in His face? How many times have I, in my overall lifestyle, declared to Him that I would be better off had I stayed in the orphanage. Here He is, offering to sit me down at a banquet He has prepared for me, but all I want is the watered down borscht that was served to me by people that never really loved me. He is offering to be my Father, and I am screaming that I don’t need one. Furthermore, when I reject His teaching, and fall victim to the consequences of my own actions, I cry foul and blame Him– while all the while He is standing there with His arms open wanting to embrace me– reiterating that the rules He laid out were for my protection to begin with. But I’m too silly to realize that my Father loves me, and only wants what is best for me.

God crucified His son to adopt me– yet I reel with rebellion, trying to distance myself from the love from a Father that I do not deserve. And Jesus Christ in Heaven watches on, as I keep rejecting the Father that crucified Him… for me. (And again, this is a huge difference between Jesus and I (haha)– that as He watches, He watches with the same love as the Father, where I would be watching with resentment.)

The truth is, He crucified His Son so He could adopt me… and my only reaction should be gratitude, love & obedience to this Father that chose an orphan over His Son.

Unsaved Christians

Disclaimer: My purpose in this blog is not to berate Christians living in sin, but to call their attention to the damage they’re doing as well as perhaps causing them to question their own Salvation (not in a negative, doubtful of Jesus way, but in a profitable “If Jesus truly died to save me from Hell, how then should I live?” sort of way). This is a VERY long blog, but I encourage you to stick it out. Honestly- you probably spend more time reading the same facebook statuses repeatedly until new ones come up than you would spend reading this.

Living in a world where you’re regarded as being something of a dunce for maintaining any sort of faith—especially in Jesus—has only grown my frustration with nominal Christians: those who claim the name of Jesus Christ, but continue to live like sons of Hell. I fail to see how anyone who has truly encountered the Son of a Living God cannot live a transformed life. Now, not for one moment would I ever pretend to be perfect, or claim that I have all the answers; au contraire, I find myself identifying with Paul when he calls himself the worst of sinners. However, since encountering Jesus, I can’t help but feel like I’m wiping my sin-stained hands all over Jesus’ white garments.

I do remember what it was like before Jesus grasped my life. At one point, I do believe I was a nominal Christian (and I think high school friends can probably attest to this). I knew all the right steps to be religious—but knew nothing of the awesome, transforming power of my then so-called Savior. I believed in the power of God, but was totally blind to the power of Jesus.

I think it was around eighteen, or even nineteen years old when Jesus began renovating my heart, and my mind and life soon followed. That being said, I DO understand how someone who was raised in the church, but has NOT indeed understood the love of the Savior (and thusly the gravity of Salvation) could call themselves a Christian, but not let the Word of God ravish their lives. I was there once… I knew how to pray aloud, I knew how to talk at church; I was probably fluent in “Christianese” before I was in high school. I had even seen God work in amazing ways… and I knew it was God… alas, the Pharisees knew Scripture, they followed the rules, and were the most pious of the pious, yet somehow Jesus, with all the authority of Heaven referred to them as white-washed tombs with fine-looking exteriors but rotting corpses inside. I was there, I know that place well.

However, since having my heart captured by a most-loving Savior—and having devoted myself to learning more and more about this man who died for me; having had studied theology, philosophy & Bible both in (somewhat basic, but not elementary) college courses as well as my own time seeking out answers I would say this: If the Biblical example of converts to Christianity is the standard by which we measure the worldly manifestation of the outcome of Salvation, those people in that nominal Christian camp (where I was not too many years ago), are indeed NOT Saved. To the best of my knowledge (and correct me if I am wrong), there is not one Biblical example of someone getting Saved, and their life NOT being radically altered. These people truly encountered Jesus, and could not help but live transformed lives. You find examples of these people especially throughout the synoptic gospels, as well as Luke, Acts, Romans, and I & II Corinthians. (There is evidence throughout the New Testament, but the topic seems to be addressed more during Jesus’ life & in early church history.)

Did you want examples of people that encountered God, or even went as far as meeting & talking to Jesus, but continued living in sin despite the Salvation found therein the Man that stood before them? Here’s two:

1. Let’s start with the Pharisees. They knew well the system of religion & they knew all the prophesies of God, yet they continued to live lives of pride, eventually getting so caught up in their self-righteousness they demanded the crucifixion of the Son of God. In Matthew twenty-three Jesus denounces them and in verse thirty-three of His rebuke He states this, “”You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being condemned to hell?” They took all the religious steps… and without living radically altered lives—and shelving their pride so they could serve the One who died for them—they were still condemned to Hell. You can have all the answers, go to church every Sunday, memorize Bible verses, and if your life is not changed to the point of putting love of God above all else, and love of people shortly behind that (as they are the two greatest commandments), you could still very well be on a slippery slope to eternal separation from God’s love.
2. How about Judas, the betrayer of Jesus? This man was counted among the original twelve disciples of Jesus. He was more than likely there to witness most of the miracles of Jesus, yet John twelve gives him this description: “But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, ‘Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages’ He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.” (This account is solely recorded in the gospel of John—and it was probably the outcome of a private conversation that Judas & John had, as he espoused it as fact, not speculation.) He spent day in & day out with Jesus, and was still somehow a friend to sin & ultimately this sin lead to him hanging himself.

These men spent their lives claiming to be followers of God, and ultimately crucified him. Jesus spoke clearly to those who claimed to follow the statutes of Scripture, but lacked a humble, love-driven spirit. He called them damned to Hell, and those that follow them double-damned. How easy it is to lead a damned life of piety, and take others down the path to Hell with you… and how dare us lead people to death by tainting the name of Jesus and turning it into something of a joke.

It is because of people like this that the world at large declares religion a crutch… and religion IS a crutch, if your faith stops at tradition. Christianity IS a crutch if the only time you seek God is in the disastrous times when all other means have failed you. God IS a crutch if you treat Him like you do Santa Claus—there when you want something from Him, but inconsequential when you are too absorbed in yourself to bother adhering to His teaching. Jesus Himself said, “He who is not with Me is against Me, and he who does not gather with Me scatters.” There is no neutral. To put it plainly… You cannot follow God (or anything) in neutral.

Again, I fail repeatedly… but in lieu of the Cross, and Jesus crucified on it for your (my) sins, your sin should affect you… leave you grieving that you have again given Jesus reason to hang upon that cross. If someone had died to save your temporal, earthly life you would feel forever indebted to them; would you not? Yet you claim you believe that this Man died to save your eternal life, and you blow it off as mere motion that requires no greater action than tradition, no greater emotion than indifference?

How many nominal Christians have stood in church and sang the song, “I hear the Savior say thy faith indeed is small, child of wisdom watch & pray, find in Me thy All in All… Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe… sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow” yet fail to realize the gravity of those words. Or what about the song, “How deep the Father’s love for us, how vast beyond all measure that He should give his only Son to make a wretch His treasure… Behold, a Man upon the cross, my sin upon His shoulders, ashamed I hear my mocking voice call out among the scoffers. It was my sin that held Him there, until it was accomplished. His dying breath has brought me life. I know that it is finished.” We sing it with such fervor, yet do not realize the appropriate response to such an act of love, and thusly do not live it.

The accounts are plentiful—far more plentiful than those like Judas & Pilate—that detail the changed lives of the Saved. The New Testament is thickly laden with account after account of men & women deciding to trust the Salvation found in Jesus Christ—and their lives alter that moment. Repeated occasions of the least likely people becoming converts and immediately running back to their town to share with their communities what Jesus has done in their life fill the New Testament. Stories that tell of people getting saved, and leaving their life behind to follow after Jesus are featured throughout the gospels. Even after Jesus leaves Earth, stories of people’s lives being radically changed by hearing & experiencing the Gospel permeate the pages of the New Testament. You cannot read the New Testament and avoid stories of people’s entirely transformed lives.

I guess what I’m getting at… is that you cannot be a follower of Jesus, and continue in a lifestyle of repetitive & remorseless sin (and there is enough written about sin in the New Testament (under the new covenant) that we know that Biblically, there ARE moral absolutes. This means that things identified in the New Testament as sin, i.e., adultery (sex outside of marriage), fornication (sex before marriage), idolatry (placing anything above God, including money, sex, self, music, etc. were wrong then, and they continue to be wrong *and thusly sin against GOD* today), arrogance, course jesting/perversion, drunkenness, etc. were wrong then, and they continue to be wrong *and thusly sin against GOD* today. Thomas Merton said, “A man who has been killed by one enemy is just as dead as one who has been killed by a whole army. If you are friends with one habit of mortal sin you live in death, even though you may seem to have all the other virtues.” You cannot proceed to follow God, and also pursue a sinful life, because they are on two opposite ends of the spectrum, and running toward one, means turning your back to the other.

Allow me to give something of an illustration in this regard (keep in mind, any illustration the human mind can come up with to describe this circumstance will never fully grasp the reality of it, as our minds are flawed): Jesus Himself said, “He who is not with Me is against Me, and he who does not gather with Me scatters.” There is no neutral. To put it plainly… You cannot follow God (or anything) in neutral. God, being by definition Good, Truth, Love and Holy (set apart) cannot take part in, nor associate with sin (*note: not sinners, but sin. Jesus Christ’s death acts as a mediation so we can come before the throne of God covered in sin, but since God the Father is looking through the lens of Jesus Christ, His perfect Son, He sees none of our filthy garments). God is the complete opposite end of the spectrum from sin. To illustrate it linearly, God is a fixed point (as He does not change) on a steeply sloped line, and all things sinful & hellish are an infinite distant down that line. You, being imperfect, cannot follow the line perfectly and sometimes you fumble around, but you must generally move toward God or Hell; and you essentially have three options: you can head in the direction that leads you to God (Salvation in Jesus Christ, and the result thereof being a new, sanctified life), or you can head away toward Hell (eternal death & torment). Let’s say Salvation is like being on a belay rope, anchored to God, and being held by Christ. You are doing the climbing, but Christ is there to catch your weight when you fall. This leaves a third option: you just stand there. It is easy for those heading in the downward direction just to stumble around you and keep going, but it is difficult for those who are climbing, especially new, weak believers to get around you. At the end of the age, the line will be tipped vertical, and those who are not held secure on the belay of Salvation, will fall. You might have known that upward was the correct direction all your life—you may have been a good person, and done everything correct, but you never fastened yourself to the point that anchors the line, and the Rock in which your belay cord should be drilled in to.

I do not wish to make this blog any longer, however I have a few more things to clarify. It perhaps seems as though God is a cruel God because he tips the line at the end, but allow me to espouse this theological standpoint: God cannot associate with your (or my) sin. He is Holy, set apart, untouched by sin. This is why God sent His Son in such a loving manner, to absorb the punishment for our sin, to take upon Himself the wrath of God the Father so that we may attach ourselves to Jesus Christ (our belay). He wanted to reconcile us to Him, but needed a method of cleansing us to do so. When that line is tipped, and the Saved are held secure and we are brought into the presence of God, it is only because the death of Jesus atoned for our sins, and “washed them white as snow”. It is not even that our sins are hidden under a coat of Jesus… but are sins are wiped clean by the blood of Jesus. Why could we not all be belayed? Why must we make a choice to hook our harness onto Jesus Christ and call ourselves “Saved”? Well… this is a much more profound issue than I want to go into right now, as this is already very long, but allow me to ask: Is forced love love at all? If God forced us to love Him & choose Him, would that be a choice at all?

I digress. Let’s go back to three paragraphs ago, and morph the last three paragraphs you just read into one. This blog is about the necessity of living a transformed life in lieu of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice. You cannot claim to be a follower of Jesus Christ, and be moving in the opposite direction on this proverbial line. You may slip and backslide a bit, or you may get distracted and move to the left or the right, but the overall direction will be upward, not downward. I get so confused as I watch people claiming the name of God while they sprint downhill following the false Gods of money, sex, pride and drunkenness, knocking people down with them as they gleefully tumble… all the while screaming, “Not perfect, just forgiven!” No, Christians are NOT perfect; and yes, Christians ARE forgiven—but that is NOT an excuse to continue living a lifestyle of sin! Paul says in Romans six:

“What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer? Or don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. If we have been united with him like this in his death, we will certainly also be united with him in his resurrection. For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin—because anyone who has died has been freed from sin. Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God. In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness. For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.”

We have NEW life, and we are dead to sin. Having the power of Jesus Christ within us gives us the power to say no to that which is offensive to God. YES, again, we fail, and YES, again, we are forgiven—but this does not mean we continue down a path of sin that is destructive to us, others, and the cause of Christ as a whole. You have to choose a direction—and unlike Islam, Catholicism, Mormonism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and all other (non-cult (despite having listed Mormonism among the religions)) major world religions, Christianity offers a belay.

There is security in Salvation in Jesus Christ. Praise God it is not a works/religion/tradition based system—it is very much a faith based system. Allow me to sum up with this (and again, this is a far more complex issue than I am taking the room for here & now): Christianity is a faith based Salvation, NOT a works based Salvation, however: do not allow yourself to be fooled that your belay is fastened as you run with fervor in the opposite direction. As I said earlier in this note, if someone saved your life, you would do all that is possible to repay them, would you not? This “religion” we call Christianity—you know—the one where (hypothetically) we don’t get drunk, we don’t sleep around (or even sleep with a fiancé before the wedding night), where we don’t curse, where we don’t delight in perversion, where we pray every day, and read our Bibles—all this… or should I say none of this is to attain Salvation. You cannot make yourself any better in God’s eyes after you’ve been clothed in Jesus. We do not commit ourselves to higher standards of morals because we want to be saved. We do it BECAUSE we are Saved. It is our life-debt to the Man who Saved us.

And if you are reading this, as someone who calls his or herself a Christian, but lives a life no different than that of those outside Christianity, ask yourself, did you ever allow Jesus to radically alter your life? Or did you just sign up to get your get-out-of-Hell-free card? I fear that the glorious consequences of Salvation are not being properly explained to supposed converts… we offer the security of Heaven without explaining the gravity of Salvation—and what living a life for Jesus means… Pick up your Bible & read one of the gospels and ask yourself—are you doing your best to live according to the standards of the Man who died on the cross for you? Or are you just claiming his name while taking others out as you slide down the line?

(*note: If you ever read one of my blogs, and wish to talk to me, please send me a message. I’ll talk about almost anything—I am considerably trained explaining things of this nature, although this blog may not be my best put together piece, it was largely written off the cuff and out of a stream of… let’s say… passion. Even if you have questions regarding which gospel may be the best for you to read—or where you can read in the Bible to find answers for certain questions… I will try my best to field those—because while I may not be a professional theologian, or Bible scholar, I do study those fields quite a bit, and I spend a lot of time in the Bible. I would be more than glad to help. I don’t write things like this to judge or condemn, as that is not my place… I write them out of a humble heart that is passionate about expressing Salvation to ALL people—whether they think they’re Saved or not. I want to build up my fellow Christians, and give my beloved friends who are not Saved all the chances in the world to see Jesus for who He is. What kind of friend (or better yet Christian) would I be if I truly believed in the Salvation of Jesus Christ (and I do), but kept it to myself? I could hardly say I loved you if I did not earnestly desire that you partake in the benefits [joy, peace, security, comfort, LOVE, provision, etc.] of Salvation. I do love you. And I really do desire that you grow closer to the Lord, trusting Him in Salvation, and being intentional about getting closer to Him after you’re Saved. Also, and this will be my last thought: If it were not for the love I’ve received from God, I would not be able to extend this love to you… because my own nature is selfish and mean (I am naturally quite a jerk)—God has extended his unconditional love to me, and He has filled me so full of it, that I cannot help but flow over—I can only pray that you’ll get a taste of it, and seek more of that love from HIM.)

saving lives & porn

I have a pretty big heart for global relief efforts. I spent a year in Haiti, witnessing poverty first hand… I cannot think of many things more heartbreaking than having a child come up to the car window begging for something to eat. After that, I was considerably impacted in my Evan 101 class four years ago when we learned that American’s spend more money on pet food than it would take to feed all the starving children of the world… I am quick to give to non-governmental relief efforts if I have money at all… and even the “about me” section on my page explains a bit on how I feel about this:

“I’m a bleeding heart, but I’m certainly not liberal. I think making a difference in the world is up to individuals not the government… someone’s got to take care of the widows and orphans and it’s not up to welfare, FEMA or any government funded agency that works internationally. Could you imagine what would happen if PEOPLE cared about PEOPLE and didn’t expect bureaucratic and passionless agencies to do it?”

That about sums up my feelings… I get super excited when I hear about new efforts to bring people up out of poverty, free them from slavery (in many contexts), help calm violence that plagues regions (although I think this to be a very precocious arena to work in). Likewise, my heart aches when I hear about areas that suffer from extreme poverty, slavery, and violence.

That being said, I have been listening to a sermon from Pastor Mark Driscoll this morning…
Here are some interesting facts he listed:

- Over 200 porn films are made a week in America (more than one an hour), and they all involve somebody’s child… daughters & sons (could be yours someday, if we’re not careful).
- Porn sites are 12% of all internet sites (and it’s a big internet, so 12% is HUGE)
- Porn is 25% of all search engine requests
- Over 40% of internet users view porn
- Over 20% of men admit to looking at porn at work
- 13% of women admit to accessing porn at work
- 28,000 internet users are viewing porn every second in America
- 370 users in America are searching porn every second
- 90% of children between 8 and 16 have viewed porn online
- The average child sees porn for the first time at age 11.
- The #1 consumer of porn is boys ages 12-17
- Pornography is a $60 Bil. ($60,000,000,000) global industry.
- $12 Bil. ($12,000,000,000) of that is spent by Americans.
- More money is spent on pornography annually than on professional football, baseball, and basketball combined. Statistically, this makes pornography America’s favorite pass time, NOT baseball.
- America’s $12 Billion in porn every year surpasses the revenues of ABC, NBC & CBS combined.
- America spends more money annually on porn than they do on global relief efforts. (This trend has been factual for TEN YEARS now.)
- Every second, $3000 is spent on porn in America

Um, woah.
Seriously, woah.

This begs a few points, however. Like I said, I am a bleeding heart, but not a liberal… I don’t think it’s the governments place to spend money in relief efforts. I think it’s OUR job, as humans, to help in humanitarian efforts. This makes me wonder: how many people who stand on streets & protest to inspire government action to help the needy by day pour their money into this industry by night? If America quit watching porn, and gave that money instead to relief efforts, we could more than DOUBLE our funding for global relief in natural disasters, political turmoil, and poverty-stricken areas. It’s such a tragedy that many places don’t even have clean water to drink… and that AIDS is sweeping across Africa (and I’m sure the rest of the world, but we hear about Africa in the news)… yet instead of giving to relief campaigns, a huge portion of America gives to pornography.

Imagine this: what if America gave up porn, and gave that money to feed starving people (not just children), provide clean water, help establish peace, provide education. Imagine how much better of a world it could be? Rather than objectifying women (and men), reducing sex to entertainment, and promoting the devaluation of romantic relationships, we would be educating, feeding, saving, helping people.

And for my Liberty crowd: How many of you who are active participants in Invisible Children (or something like that)– those who spend the night outside in staged “refugee” camps once a year asking for government assistance to save these kids… how many of you support an industry that could one day involve your daughters & sons? How many of you who gave that one time in the jeans offering give regularly to an industry that destroys families much like the one you gave to to bring together? How many of you struggle giving in the offering at whatever church you attend, but find it so easy to pay for porn?

What if America gave up porn? What if we chose saving lives over destroying them?

Consistency

So, this was taken pretty much straight from a free-written journal entry. It kind of morphs from one topic to the next as my thoughts flow…

My life continues getting strange. So strange, in fact, I often don’t know what to do with myself. It has been quite the change migrating from the Liberty-bubble, Bible-belt conservative south to the hedonism-soaked, liberal, and predominantly agnostic/atheistic/other religion/non-Christian Seattle. It’s so strange to be here immersed in this world, even stranger since I left my whole support system in Lynchburg. It’s odd not going back to 219 at night and discussing the day. It’s odd not having the typical Sunday ride to church with Djo to discuss life. It is very odd to no longer be in class where we discuss how art and God and the Gospel fit together. It’s odd not being asked for prayer requests every day, often multiple times; and moreover, it’s odd not praying in groups of united believers. Part of me feels hung out to dry, but the rest of me acknowledges that this was my choice, or rather my series of choices, and I am confident this is where God wants me. That is my comfort—often my only comfort when I see all the things my friends are doing without me. Part of me wants to make new friends, but the rest of me knows they’ll probably never be able to hold a candle to the God honoring & seeking friendships of the past few years of my life.

I’m tired of the constant flux of confidants that my life has been plagued with since I entered my first “best-friendship”, since I knew what a confidant even was. I’m sick of this oceanic ebb and flow of friends where we’re all moving in different directions at different speeds. I am hoping soon I’m in a river with a few good friends—where we’re moving in the same direction at a similar speed. I’m ready for consistency.

Alas, in my writing, I always am led directly back to Christ, and a dependency on Him. I find that often as I write of the things in my life that don’t make sense, I lead myself right to the answer—God shows through and I learn a lesson.
Yes, I think it’s important to find the river in which I belong (metaphorically speaking)—but even if I find it, that is not my consistency. Consistency is not to be found in the ones I flow with, but rather the One who guides the flow. Consistency, I think, is not a human trait—rather evidence of divine. If we find a consistent person, I think perhaps it is because of God’s image manifested in that person. And divine traits are not limited to Christians by any means.

We’re all created in the image of God—(and I tend to believe since God is generally not physically described in terms synonymous with mankind, this means that we are made in his personality/spiritual image, not physical. Otherwise we would be orbs of unbelievable light that we could not look at.) Whether we’ve acknowledged our Creator or not, we’re made in His image. Thus, you find evidence of the Creator in all people—and in some manifests consistency. Consistent people are a resonation of God’s glorious image. But they are not the source of consistence. God is my source of consistence. I have been searching for consistency in the wrong place… There may have been evidence of the Divine in late night talks with Ralph, Sundays with Djo, classes with Prof. Smith, and in praying in most of my classes. There is certainly something to be said for the divinity of consistency—but those things are not the source of it. I will never be fully pleased with the consistency of men because they are not fully divine, and therefore not fully consistent. God MUST become the source of my consistency if I am ever to feel that there is consistency to have. I must seek Him fervently if I want to feel stable and secure.

It’s strange how I sat down to write about the various forms of chaos my life has been recently… and God shows his consistency to me—and I’m comforted some 3,000 miles away from the manifestation of God’s consistency that I became so used to, and that I miss so much. I asked for consistency, and He was faithful to show it to me—and I’ve been crying out for comfort, and He is quick to give it.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

A Sponge on a Stick

We started a new sermon series today at church. It’s called “Luke’s Gospel: Investigating the Man who is God.” The series should last about three years… and I’m quite excited for it. Most of the sermon was introducing Luke… who he was, why he wrote Luke, who commissioned the research for the book of Luke. It was very interesting and compelling historical data, and only offered more reason to take the Bible as truth (not that I doubted that to begin with). The lead pastor of Mars Hill, Mark Driscoll, went on a tour of Israel, Greece & Turkey– he retraced the steps of Luke (who retraced the steps of Jesus), he brought back video footage for some of the illustrations. He showed us a bit today. If you want to check out the history of Luke, check out the pamphlet Mars Hill put together about him: http://www.marshillchurch.org/media/misc/luke_document.pdf

What really took me aback, though- was about a five minute segment toward the end of the sermon. Pastor Driscoll put up a photo of two of his children in front of some Bible-times public toilets. It was basically a row of holes in a stone seat. He explained that the poorest of the slaves would wait at those latrines with a sponge on the end of a stick, and wipe the patron’s filth from their bodies as they came and went. Eventually, it was determined that due to the use of the sponges on multiple people, infections & bacteria were spreading. To stop this from spreading, the slaves started dipping the sponges in vinegar or soured wine to disinfect it. Pastor Driscoll held a stick with a sponge on the end of it… and before he could continue to explain this little object lesson, the imagery hearkened back a piece of scripture that never made sense to me:

In Luke 23:36 it says, “The soldiers mocked Him, coming up to Him, offering him sour wine…”
In Matthew 27:48 it says, “Immediately one of them ran, and taking a sponge, he filled it with sour win and put it on the reed and gave Him a drink.”
Mark 15:36 accounts the same story, “Someone ran and filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a reed, and gave him a drink, saying, ‘Let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down…’”
and John 19:29 recounts it in these words, “A jar full of sour wine was standing there; so they put a sponge full of the sour wine upon a branch of hyssop and brought it up to his mouth. Therefore when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And he bowed His head and gave up His spirit.

I never understood this passage. I could never grasp why immediately when Jesus cried out “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” one of the soldiers offered him that bit of “mercy” by appeasing his thirst. In John’s account, Jesus had even said he was thirsty. It never made sense to me that in this moment of great anguish and torture, the most excruciating form of death, someone offered him up some drink.

I could never understand it… because, the soldier was not offering up any mercy. Why would they have sour wine at a crucifixion? Certainly not to drink it. Why the sponge? I doubt if they were interested in keeping it clean, and I’m fairly sure that they used not sponges to clean but rags. The wine & sponge was most likely there for the very same purpose it was used in the rest of daily life in that time period.

Jesus cried to his Father to forgive them, and they proceeded to place the dirtiest thing on that hill to His lips. And how often do we do that over and over and over again to this day? He asks the Father to forgive us, and we turn around and take the filthy sponge, dip it in the sour wine, and lift it up to him. It’s moments like these that I replay all the things that still linger in my memory that I’ve done to hold Christ on that cross. He still died on that cross after they pressed that sponge to His lips– it was never to late for God to take himself off that cross and call it quits. He could have done it before, during, or after the time that filthy sponge was up against his lips, but he didn’t. He took one last breath, and it was finished. He still died for me, after I held my filthy sponge to His lips. THAT is how much He loves me, and THAT is how much He loves you.