Punching Fear: Senior Citizen Edition.

Ok, so my last post was about the Start Experiment and punching fear.  That was July.  Thousands of people were part of this cool experiment and wrote books and songs and ran for congress and started cupcake companies.  Me, not so much.  But I have thrown a few punches here and there.  Some of them even involved senior citizens.  Read on, my friends... 

Do you ever have silly little internal arguments inside your head ?  You know, like when a thought pops into your brain that you think might be God…  but you’re not sure if you’re just making it up because, frankly, you’re a bit of a drama queen?  So you sit there, arguing with yourself, whether to act on the thought and risk all kinds of awkward humiliation, or just go for it, and leave the results up to God? 

Well, that was me,  sitting at a table in the Marketplace Café at Wegmans, after I noticed a senior citizen gentleman sitting by himself, cradling an empty cup of coffee, staring off into space.  “What if he’s hard of hearing and you end up having to scream for Jesus in the middle of people trying to enjoy their lattes and sushi?”  “What if he just wants to be left alone?”  “What if he thinks you’re an idiot?” All valid concerns in my brain.  And yet…  in the end, the voice that won out was the one that simply said “why don’t you just ask him if he’d like a refill on his coffee?”  So I swallowed hard, walked over to him, and that’s what I did.  I mean, what was he going to do, beat me up?  I could outrun him if I had to, right? 

Turns out, he didn’t beat me up, or get angry, nor was he hard of hearing.  Instead, he was very appreciative of the offer.  Our conversation was not long, but I did have the opportunity to tell this sweet man that God loved him very much, and just wanted to show him that in a small way. 

Now don’t get me wrong.   This is soooo not about what “I” did.  Big deal.  I bought a man a cup of coffee. It’s not about the coffee.   It was about the glisten in his eyes at the mention of the words “God loves you”.  He was glistening.  And, I believe, he was listening.  Not to me, but to the voice of God, speaking personally to him, in the middle of Wegmans on a weekday afternoon.   All because I listened to the voice of God.   

Sometimes we worry that we can’t tell the difference between His voice and ours.  But I am finding that my voice DOES sound a lot like His… when that voice is telling me something that goes along with His character.  It’s not about the results, it’s about the response.  I am so glad I responded, and left the results to the Lord.  He’s good with results.

Punching Fear: Day 1

Today I took a risk. 

I joined a group that is all about encouraging people to take risks.  Punch fear in the face.  Get out of the boat.  That kind of thing. 

Now, truth be told,  I like to talk about taking risks.  Read about it.  Think about it. 

But the "taking them" part?  Yeah,  I don't really like that so very much.

They're so... risky.

And what if I take the wrong risk?  A stupid risk?  A risk that results in loss?  Or worse yet, no change whatsoever.  That could be pretty painful. 

But what if I keep doing what I've been doing (which is, not so very much)? 

That could be the dumbest risk yet.

Hell, thy name is Sugar...

Day #4...

When they tell you the first few days of eliminating sugar intake are "no fun", don't believe them.

They are wretched. 

Getting a root canal is "no fun".  Waiting at the DMV and dealing with humorless zombies behind their little windows of self aggrandized power,  is "no fun".  Enduring most of the depressing line up of British voiced narrated TV shows on PBS that my husband seems to love... is "no fun." (and don't get me started on that insipidly boring travel logue guy who has NO RIGHT to get paid for trekking the world and making the most exotic destinations seem unbearably dull). 

I have experienced plenty of things that are "no fun."  Plenty, indeed.  But this sugar detox thing... that belongs in a whole different category:  something more akin to, oh I don't know, hellish torment?

Truly, I don't mean to make light of the reality of hell itself.  I know it is far worse, and I don't mean to suggest that what I am going through can begin to compare to the real suffering that is taking place on earth, even as I write.  If anything, I guess you could say I am merely shedding light on my true, wimpy nature.   I hate suffering.  I really, really, do.

What's more, in these excrutiatingly looooong 3 days, I have become painfully aware of the fact that there is something I hate even more than suffering.  I hate being told "no".  I loathe restrictions, in any form.  Even self imposed ones, which is why I hardly ever impose them on myself. Limitations are just so... limiting, you know?  So I hardly ever set them, rebel that I am.   This is an ugly, ugly thing to face. 

Simultaneous to all of these egregious epiphanies, however, is something I haven't been talking a lot about since I started this journey, but another quiet reality that trumps all of the afore-mentioned "hell'ish" revelations, and is sustaining me through my whining and complaining, even this very second:  the Grace of my Lord Jesus Christ.  In a way it seems silly, and even irresponsible to squander such a priceless treasure on something as pedestrian as dealing with a sugar addiction.  But then I remember these words:

"I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be attained through the law, Christ died for nothing!"  Galatians 2:21

 

And there it is.  I need his Grace-  beginning with salvation, yes, but not ending there, not by a long shot.  I need His Grace for EVERYTHING.  I cannot afford to set it aside, not for a moment.  Especially right now, when nothing in me wants to do what I know is healthy and yields life... when I am tempted to lean on my own understanding and do what "feels" right in the moment (ie. have a clandestine tete a tete with a pan of Ghirardelli brownies)...  ah yes, there is a way that seems right to a man (or, in this case, a chocolate crazed woman), but in the end it leads to death. 

The good I want to do, I cannot do (where have I heard this before?).  Who will rescue me from this body of death?  (boy, this is sounding really familiar). 

Thanks be to God, for His Grace, which is truly sufficient... and which I am leaning on more, and more.

I may screw up.  Maybe even today.  But I am leaning on His grace, nonethless.  I can't afford not to. 

Sugar Shock

Who is STUPID enough to try to give up sugar on Halloween?

This girl here [raising hand].

It all started, see, the day before, at my annual check up... or should I say after the jarring shock of being woken up out of the blissful state of denial I have been in for a good long time as to the reality of my dietary trajectory, and the bad, bad places it is taking me. I guess you could say it started months before, when I embarked on said trajectory, but let's stick to the point.  I was now facing the painful dilemma of deciding which is more depressing:  Dealing with my sugar addiction... or the consequences of NOT dealing with it. 

I think they made a Meryl Streep movie about this. 

So anyway, in a very "uncharacteristic-of-me" fashion, I actually did more than just feel  momentarily "convicted" (code phrase for "feel bad, shrug shoulders and move on")...
I made a quality decision to do the hardest, most ridiculously radical thing I could think to do:  stop eating sugar.  Or at least try. 

So that's just what I did.  A whole day, filled with soup and salad and healthy, hearty, sugar free snackies...  I even bought 4 bags of Halloween candy (the good stuff, too, not the crappy stuff older kids try to pawn off on their younger, naive siblings), and partook of none of it.  What's more, I'll have you know that I actually survived Trick or Treating with my daughter, without so much as stealing a fun-sized Snickers when she wasn't looking (don't act like you've never done this).  Proud of myself, I was...

And then it was time to go to Grandma's house.  Grandma, who has never read the Purpose Driven Life, but if she had, would find that hers is somehow connected to showering the people she loves with food, glorious food... including an ever exploding cornucopia of dessert items

It was seriously like an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Every time I turned it around:

[SCREEECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!] COOKIES ...

[SCREEECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!] CANDY ...

[SCREECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!] ICE CREEEEEEEAAAAAAMMMMM!!!!
 

Finally, having made it through the horrific labyrinth of high glycemia, as we are departing, with my hand nearly on the doorknob...

 

[SCREECH! SCREECH! SCREECH!]   SHE HOLDS OUT A CARTON (yes, a CARTON) of CUPCAKES... expecting us to take them home.

 

She has since been locked in the basement. 
 

But the important thing is, I did it. At least for one day. All things considered, though, I think I should get a medallion or something like they give out in AA, to have survived this highest holy day of complex carbohydrate consumption.

 

  If I accomplish nothing else in life, I can say I have done this one thing.   Or, maybe I could set the bar a little higher and see if I can keep going.  I'm already 36 hours in... Who knows? 

 

Showing Up

"Sooo... what's God doing in YOUR life?"

Don't you just LOVE this question?  Seems innocuous enough... to the naive, that is.  To a recovering cynic like me, however, who boldly sees layer upon layer of innuendo and hidden agendas where no man has seen before... it is nothing more than a subtle barometric tool meant to measure ones' reaction to being put on the spot.   

Ever have someone ask you this question, say in a group setting (around a circle is always great, with everyone intensely staring each other down in an OK Corral kind of way), and you find yourself going into this instant internal panic mode… wracking your brain in a desperate attempt to come up with something good and dramatic to top (or at least keep up with) all the other spiritual Jones's and/or glowing testimonies in the circle before you?    Yeah, me neither.  That never happens to me. 

Ok, I’m lying.  In fact, it just happened to me.  I was in just such a circly situation, and though I know God is always at work, my mind was drawing a complete blank… and as half of me listened with awe and wonderment to story after story of all the cool stuff Jesus is doing to and through my spiritual friends, the other half of me was thinking, “I got nothin.  This is not good.”

Let me clarify.  It’s not that I don’t think God is doing anything in my life.  It’s just that sometimes it doesn’t seem very “made for tv”, or even “made for circle time” by comparison.  It just seems insignificant. You know, little stuff... like the Fatherly way His voice whispers words of direction I so very much need in the midst of my cluttered, chaotic day.  The surprising way He actually uses me to speak wisdom into someone’s life (huh, did those sage words really just come out of MY mouth?)  The “random” way He pops someone’s name into my mind in the middle of a sleepless night to pray for them, only to find out the next day why… The sneaky way he uses the most unlikely source to speak jarring words of encouragement to me just when I least expect it… and just when I needed them most.

It’s little stuff, really.  Nothing dramatic.  And yet, by the time it was my time to share, I realized, that IS what he’s doing in my life.  Showing up.  In a thousand little ways.  Usually I’m so deaf and blind, I can’t see or hear him… or at least I’m on this delayed timer, and don’t realize it until after the fact.  But the fact is, He is ENGAGING… with me!   Actually taking time to LISTEN, TALK TO, and even USE  me for His glory.  Amazing. 

So I guess you could say what God is doing in my life right now is, well…  showing up… in a lot of little ways.   And come to think of it, this is a pretty big deal.   

Sooo… what’s God doing in YOUR life?  ;^)

FIFTY THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY HUSBAND

Today is my husband Ken's 50th birthday.  In honor of this momentous occasion, I have taken it upon myself to list 50 things that I love about him.  This list is neither exhaustive nor in prioritized order... but it is all true.  Every bit of it!


WHAT I LOVE ABOUT KEN: 

50.  That he considers 10 hours a short work day. 

49.  The way he explains the thermal coefficient of steel over and over again ever so patiently, knowing I will only have a marginal understanding at best.

48.  The playful way he mocks my home town of Elmira, NY, as if we all popped off the set of Green Acres. 

47.  Although  he cooks, cleans, launders, irons and basically does anything domestic better than me, he does not let that interfere with the delicate balance of nature in our home.

46.  I know without question he would lay down his life for Felicity and me… or at least sustain an injury from slipping on the casings...

45.  His linear thinking to offset my nonlinear freakfest of a brain.

44.  His creative take on song lyrics:, without even realizing he is rewriting them  (eg.  KC & The Sunshine Band:  "Do a little dance... sing a little song... get down tonight!)

43.  That he knows EV.RY.THING.

42.  His impression of Golom.

41.  The way he chases Felicity around.

40.  The way he chases the cat around.

39.  The way he chases me around.

38.  That he not only knows Scripture, he lives it out.

37.  When he tells me “you’re seldom wrong, but never without an answer!”

36.  That he is the machine whisperer. 

35.  No one on earth laughs like him.

34.  His first face-to-face words to me:   "You’re pretty.  Cool.”

33.  His guitar stylings.

32.  His Lou Rawls impression.

31.  His ear splitting cadence calls.

30.  That he is the only person I know who not only thinks to create zoned heating for the house, but actually knows how to do it… and does it!

29.  The way he cares for us in thousands of decisions he makes every day, week, month and year to put us first.

28.  That wherever he goes, he is the smartest person in the room, and everyone, deep in their heart, knows it. 

27.  His secret love of pop culture.

26.  How he is the best example of a Clockmaker I know  (which will only make sense if you are familiar with Jim Collins' "Good to Great" book)

25.  His extreme generosity.

24.  How he loves to learn.

23.  Two words:  Handsome Warrior

22.  His beautiful green eyes, boring a hole into my soul like the 80 year old picture of  his Aunt Imelda hanging on our wall

21.  How he honors his mother, and cares for her.

20.  His faithfulness to our family.

19.  How on our honeymoon he knew more about the Mayans than our Mexican tourguides.

18.  The way he tries to teach me proper radio listening etiquette when NPR is on and I can’t contain myself one second longer without responding to the airwaves with incredulity. 

17.  How he loves his brothers.

16.  His freakishly intense tenacity.

15.  How he gave my mother a hug and told her “You did a good job” after coming back from my father’s funeral.

14.  That he let me pick out the kitchen cabinet handles.

13.  That he still occasionally says “Nancy is nice!”

12.   That he could care less about football.

11.   How he calls me his "Testa Rosa" 

10.  That he has not only won me over to Star Trek, but occasionally PBS

  9.  The way he knew about Ruth and Boaz when we were Eharmonizing

  8.  That he is not just knowledgeable, but possesses great wisdom. 

  7.  His love of blowing things up.

  6.  The way he sings.  It brings me joy.

  5.  That anything he does, he does extremely, thoroughly and freakishly well.

4.  That he is so glad he married a rich woman ;^)

3.  That everyone who knows him knows him to be a man of honor, integrity, faithfulness and sheer brilliance. 

2.  That he loves me… and Felicity. 

1.  That he loves the Lord with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength. 

(ok, so the last 2 were in proper order!)

 

I love you, Ken Carmichael, with all my heart. 

Remember, darling:  Life is short.  So we must live.

Selective Outrage

Ok, so if I understood my morning car radio session with NPR correctly, I should be very concerned about the integrity of a person (Mitt Romney) who refuses to submit his tax returns.   This election, after all, is about character.

Hmmm...     [sound of hamster wheel spinning in head]

So...   If I ask "why there was not a similar outrage by some over Timothy Geitner's tax evasion as there is about Mitt Romney's refusal to disclose his tax returns?", it's not because I think he (Mitt) shouldn't discose his taxes. I think he should. I just think we are selectively outraged, depending on our alliances, that's all.

It happens again and again and again, and I am incredulous that no one seems to be able to recognize it. 

   Both sides have huge flaws and significant amounts of corruption, greed, power grabbing and manipulation... and their die-hard supporters have major blind spots, not to mention the makings for some serious back pain from all the bendy wendy gymnastics to justify their side and villify the opposing side. Republicans do it. Democrats do it. I have done it. And I am sick of, and hereby repenting of it.

Can we not be honest with ourselves? Can we not just admit that when we engage in this kind of finger pointing, we are saying more about ourselves than what we claim to believe in?

In the end, we are fooling ourselves if we really think this is about seeking and defending truth. We are seekers and defenders of self. Period.

The View

It was your typical Saturday night on Goat Island.  From our vantage point, here’s what we saw: 

Highwire walker at 2 o’clock…  Lesbian wedding at 10 o’clock… and a cadre of Burmese monks demonstrating for democracy dead ahead at 12 o’clock.

Something for everyone.

Forget about scenery…  I mean if you’re into that…  whatever floats your boat.     But what I love most about Niagara Falls is the humanity.  Sure, ok, the Falls themselves are great, too… but we’ll get to that.  Allow me to digress for just a moment. 

Where else can you go in Western NY, or for that matter, anywhere, to literally see the world come together with no other agenda than simply to enjoy the view?  With so many other things that take us in so many different and divisive directions,  we have this phenomenal focal point right here in our own back yard, and that, my friends,  is indeed a wondrous thing. 

Whatever your background, backstory, beliefs or lack thereof, the thing that truly makes the Falls a wonder in this age of ever-increasing people  polarization, is that those things  just don’t matter here.  The stuff that in every other venue in life, so beckons us to prod each other about our differences, frankly isn’t so important here.  Not your views on life.  Not mine.  Only The View, regardless of our worldviews.   Everyone gets to enjoy it.  Period.   

And why is this?  Maybe it’s because NF is one of the few places in the world that reminds us there’s actually something grandios-er out  there than our own sense of self.  Maybe that’s why 12 million plus people of all shapes, sizes,  colors and clans flock to it every year – just to shut out the small world as we know it, if only for a few moments, lose ourselves in the giant, swirling mist cloud rising up from overpowering,  turbulent waters below,  and soak in a sense of what grandiose really means. 

In light of all that, our clashing lifestyles seem a little insignificant. 

Now don’t get me wrong.  I have a definite world view, and I’m sure it would make at least some of you not want to friend me on facebook.  But… I bet if we were standing next to each other at the Falls on a Saturday night…  at least for those few moments, anyway…  you wouldn’t care one bit.  And neither would I.

We’d be too busy enjoying The View.  

That Crazy Seth Godin...

I was going to name this post "I hate Seth Godin"... but then I realized I already have a "I have John Eldredge" post... would hate to establish a pattern...

But he did really annoy me this morning. Just read this, from his blog this morning:

The first thing you do when you sit down at the computer
Let me guess: check the incoming. Check email or traffic stats or messages from your boss. Check the tweets you follow or the FB status of friends.You've just surrendered not only a block of time but your freshest, best chance to start something new.If you're a tech company or a marketer, your goal is to be the first thing people do when they start their day. If you're an artist, a leader or someone seeking to make a difference, the first thing you do should be to lay tracks to accomplish your goals, not to hear how others have reacted/responded/insisted to what happened yesterday

Where does he get off, assuming I do this?

Never mind the fact that he's absolutely right.

I mean, what right does he have to take me to task and shed light on my complacency and consumer mindset?

Who told him he had permission to provoke me out of my malaise? To inspire me to develop productive habits? To challenge me to do what I know deep down is exactly what I should be doing, but have been frankly too fearful and lazy to do it, choosing instead to retreat, and wonder why I have been stuck in this rut for so long?

Seriously. Who does Seth Godin think he is, anyway?

All I know is that the guy really agitated me this morning.

And I am thanking God for him.

You're Getting Lukewarmer...

The following is a devotional I was asked to write for my church's blog, in response to the book "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan. It is my reaction to chapter 4: Profile of the Lukewarm

What? Me? Lukewarm?

[insert indignant tone of voice/open mouthed facial expression here]


Me? Why, I work for a church, for crying out loud!


Really? Me?? I help lead worship, after all. I even raise my hands on a regular basis.


Come on, now. Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? Do you have any idea how many thousands of brownies I have made in the name of Ministry over the years?


Seriously. Are you kidding? A lukewarm Christian??? Me???

Yeah. Sounds about right.


So I don’t know about you, but for me, reading through this chapter was a singularly unique experience – kind of like surfing shock waves of truth… a bumpy, unsettling and altogether unpleasant experience… and yet somehow ending up safely on the shores of mercy.
The truth is, I see a whole lotta lukewarm in me. Yes, I love Jesus. Yes, I attend church “3 or more times a month” (according to the survey), and when it comes to drinkin’, smokin’ and cussin’, let’s just say the paparazzi would get pretty bored following me around. But those are just behaviors. If I’ve learned one thing about my life with Jesus, he’s more interested in what’s going on inside of me than what you all see on the outside.


Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.
1 Sam 16:7


That’s a scary prospect, because believe me, when I see what’s in my heart, I want to run for the hills (and believe you me, they are not alive with the sound of music). I see a heart that’s holding back way more than it is letting go. I see a heart that still does not completely trust its Maker. I see a heart that, for all God has done to heal it, is still more broken than I care to admit.
It hurts to look at yourself that honestly. I do not like it much. But something happens when I confront the ugly, painful truth about myself. As I humbly repent (even while bracing for yet another scathing self abasement), Mercy shows up… and NOT only doesn’t spew me out of His mouth, as I know I deserve… but instead, kisses me right where it hurts.


Mercy and truth have met together; Righteousness and peace have kissed
each other.
Psalm 85:10


Who would’ve thought that in the most frighteningly vulnerable act of exposing my lukewarm heart before a holy God… that I’d find Grace?


Ah yes. Grace for the lukewarm. Not grace for the lukewarm to stay lukewarm. But grace to ride out those wild waves all the way to the shore where Mercy meets Truth... where a girl like me experiences transformation.

Pretend Cooking

So my daughter has a little friend over for a "play date" (and no, this is not a post about remembering back in the day when we didn't have to make an appointment to play or wear seat belts or helmets, and basically cheated death every day of our young lives... but please do feel free to roll your eyes at the whole "then/now" contrasts to childhood, nonetheless)...

Anyways, as I was saying... they're on this play date, and announce to me that they are bored.
(this is also not a commentary on how we have done our kids a disservice by not allowing them to be bored but feel a sick, soccer-mom obligation to fill every waking moment of their lives with endless activity and fun, fun, fun, lest they are forced to engage their own minds in the creative thinking process and thus develop coping skills)

Ok, so what was I saying? Oh yeah. Play date. Bored. Right.

After a moment of dumb staring and awkward silence, when they realized I actually meant it when I wasn't going to oblige their request to provide free onboard cruise ship entertainment to their sorry little consumer oriented ADD selves ... they came up with an idea (ok, I DID offer some suggestions... I'm not a completely monster), they decided they wanted to "pretend" cook.

Great! The kitchen is a laboratory of the imagination, after all. Pots, pans, measuring spoons, sharp knives - what's not to love about that? I am on board with this idea.

Curiously, though, when I suggested they make something "real", like brownies or cookies, they rebuffed. They wanted to use "real" food in a "real" kitchen mind you, not that fake plastic crap in a Little Tykes plastic kitchen. That's for babies. They're no babies. Come on, now. They wanted the authenticity of the environment, and the ingredients. But that's where it ended. They just wanted to dump all of the contents of my refrigerator into various pots, pans and bowls and mix them up into thoroughly inedible and disgusting concoctions.

Ok, so the argument can be made that they just wanted to experiment, test the boundaries of the culinary arts with their young, unmolded minds, if you will... to not be held back by the "Man", or his hard and fast rules... Recipes, shmecipes! They're only 9, for crying out loud. Why encumber them with limitations so soon, when life will do that soon enough?

Yeah, yeah. I get that. But it doesn't fit with the point I want to make, so dismiss it from your mind immediately.

Looking at the disaster of my kitchen, and the many, many bowls of Italian dressing mixed with God knows what, I realized that I see a lot of myself in this "pretend cooking" business. I see my relationship with God and His Church.

I want authenticity. The real deal. I'm not satisfied with "playing Church". I'm no baby. Come on, now. Give me a real environment with real people to work with. Give me transparency, and people who are the "real deal". Give me authenticity in Church or give me death, man. I want to be surrounded by "realness". I just don't necessarily want to produce anything "real". I want to be a pretend cook. Just like those sorry little consumer oriented ADD kids destroying my kitchen.

For all of my big talk, and spouting off about authenticity, it is occuring to me that I don't really want to be real myself.

I think this is a problem.

I think God might be dealing with me. For real.

Man of God

I wrote a song this morning for a 98 Episcopalian priest, whose birthday we are celebrating today. He is an incredible man, who has lived an incredible life. Someday I'll have to tell you about him.

If I ever dare, maybe I'll even sing it for you sometime ;^)
In the mean time, here are the lyrics to the song:

Man of God
Son of Love
You've travelled far
on paths unseen
on roads unknown
in this world that's not your home

But on this journey through a strange land
you found you were not alone
For every step through every foreign place
was guided by a Stranger
who somehow you'd always known...

Man of God
Son of Love
You've suffered loss
Like everyone
Like no one else
and you keep moving on

Yet through the sorrow and the sadness
you found you were not alone
For every tear you shed was not in vain
but collected by the Stranger who somehow you'd always known...

And now your Father is no Stranger
You've drawn nigh unto Him
And Has has drawn nigh unto you

Man of God
Son of Love
This world is not your home
Jesus Christ, Son of God
Has called you as His own

What? Me Afraid? Nev...

I'm not exactly the fearful type.

Ok, except for clowns. They freak me out.

But seriously, as a girl with a fair amount of, hmmm how shall we say - *issues*? - one thing I can honestly say does not plague me is a whole heck of a lot of phobias.
When I was single I had this married friend who would call me all panic stricken when her husband would be away for the night, like some kind f pathetic damsel in distress... "can you come stay over?" What? Are you serious? Of course I did go help her out, lest you think me completely heartless... but I'm just sayin, I never did get that "afraid to be alone" thing.

So yeah, I'm ok to be alone, not afraid of the dark, or heights, or public speaking, have never feared for my life (even when wisdom dictated that I probably should have, in my younger, foolish days...)

But here's the thing I have learned about fear:

It operates under virtually the same premise as faith.

We have to exercise it for it to have any power in our lives. And like faith, it comes by hearing. Whatever we hear the most of, is what we tend to believe. What we tend to act on. Oh yeah, and the more we practice it, the more of a defnining force it is in our lives.

Gosh, when I look at it that way, I guess fear isn't such a stranger after all.

Oh snap.

It is a stunning realization that in many ways, my life is more accurately defined by fear than by faith. Fear of stepping out, and taking a risk. Fear of failure. Fear that God does not hear me, or worse, that He's not particularly interested in me. Fear of rejection. Fear that my heart does not matter to Him.

It's stupid, I know, all these fears. I should know better. But somehow, I have given fear a better place at my table than I have given faith. It has subtley taken over.

I have this feeling that if I exercised faith more frequently, more readily, this stronghold of fear wouldn't be so, well, strong.

There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear.

1 John 4:18

I guess that's another parallel between fear and faith. Both have an object. Both require trusting something, or Someone. If the object of faith is my Savior, and trusting Him builds me up... what then, or who is the object of my fear? Who is tearing me down in exchange for my trust?

Must be me.

Yeah, that's not good. I should stop trusting in me... don't you think?

What the...

So Richard Dawkins is upset that "religious" people have a reputation for being generous. More generous than, say, non-religious people. It offends his sensibilities.

Okay...

So, to assuage his pain, he has launched a campaign, calling all atheists to donate to the Haitian relief effort.

I think that's great. And though you surely would not appreciate my saying so, God bless you, Richard Dawkins.

The Haitians are being helped. That's what matters. I seriously doubt that they care where it's coming from. For that matter, I seriously doubt whether ANY relief organizations are checking people's faith credentials at the door... except for maybe, his.

So wait, let me get this straight. Are you saying, Mr. Dawkins, that the faithful need NOT apply? For WHAT reason again? Oh yeah... you don't like that they are generous?

Okay...

Have to admit, I find that a little strange. Isn't the point right now to help, PERIOD? Is there ANY reason to be exploiting the tragedy in Haiti right now as some kind of weirded out competition between the sacred and the secular's altruistic tendencies?

Your call your website a clear thinking oasis. Hmmm... gotta admit, I'm having a hard time with that one.

can I suck back in a few words?

I thought about deleting the previous post altogether.

But once they're out there, you can't really suck the words back in, now can you?
I suppose you can pretend you never said them, but, well, that's not playing fair now, is it?

I spoke too harshly about Pat Robertson.

While I still maintain that his timing and delivery need some work, for me to make the accusation that he is a "charlatan" (oh wait, I DID delete that one... but at least I left "disingeneous", so um, there you have it)... can't say I don't feel a bit chastised about that one.
I am sorry, Holy Spirit. I think I am altogether like you, but I am not. Forgive me. I have been as judgmental against him as I claimed he was being.

I also neglected to mention all the good things Pat Robertson's organization has done, and continues to do. What have I done to reach out to the world? Not so very much.

I am sorry for being so quick to speak.

And now... a word on Pat Robertson...

Ok, first of all, let's establish that I'm not at all a fan of Pat Robertson... I find him disingenuous... pompous... not to mention really, really bad at bridging the communication gap of grace between himself and the sinners he is so good at denouncing.

Bottom line is, let's just say I am not, nor do I ever wish to be in the 700 Club Member database.

Now having said that, let's take a look at the facts.

The FACT is, a lot of the wildly unpopular things he has said aren't really untrue. They are just wildly unpopular. And very, very poorly timed, with even poorer delivery.

He has done this time and time again, but for the sake of brevity, let's focus on his most recent "outrageous" statement, about Haiti. http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=9554506

Outrageous, right? Yes. But... the fact is, that whole thing about the "deal with the devil"?

[sigh] Um... Hate to say it, but it's pretty much true.

Here's an excerpt taken from the Haitian Bicentennial page put up by the city of Miami (a government publication): A man named Boukman, another houngan, organized on August 14, 1791, a meeting with the slaves in the mountains of the North. This meeting took the form of a Voodoo ceremony in the Bois Caiman in the northern mountains of the island. It was raining and the sky was raging with clouds; the slaves then started confessing their resentment of their condition. A woman started dancing languorously in the crowd, taken by the spirits of the loas. With a knife in her hand, she cut the throat of a pig and distributed the blood to all the participants of the meeting who swore to kill all the whites on the island. On August 22, 1791, the blacks of the North entered into a rebellion, killing all the whites they met and setting the plantations of the colony on fire. However, the French quickly captured the leader of the slaves, Boukman, and beheaded him, bringing the rebellion under control. Just like Mackandal, Boukman had managed to instill in the blacks the idea that he was invincible. Thus, the French exposed his head on Cap’s square to convince the slaves that their leader was really dead.
However, the ideas of the revolution, the ideas of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, had already enflamed the mind of the slaves. The death of Boukman although it had temporarily stopped the rebellion of the North failed to restrain the rest of the blacks from revolting against their condition. The Revolution that would give birth to the Republic of Haiti was under way and nothing could stop it. http://www.ci.miami.fl.us/haiti2004/history.htm

Ok, but still, you say... why even mention it? The rationale, it would seem, is that the mere fact of bringing it up is somehow tantamount to saying that God is punishing hundreds of thousands of people, many whom are innocent, non "deal with devil-makers", for the sins of a few way back when. That's hateful, you say.

Well, now wait a minute. Who brought God into all of this? Call me crazy, but if I have my "deal with the devil" playbook down correctly, isn't the point of voudon (or voodoo, whichever you care to call it) to call on the the incarnation of a bunch of animistic spirits (NOT the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, btw) to assist and empower, in exchange for subjection? Is this not what they did? Did I miss something? Is voodoo NOT prevalent in Haiti? Has this country NOT been ravaged over the centuries?

Here is my point. Do ya THINK that maybe if the devil IS behind some or all of the poverty, desolation and tragedy that has decimated Haiti over the years... maybe... just maybe he doesn't really care HOW many innocent people get caught up in it? Do you think the enemy of the Living God might just be dancing in his little hell hole at the thought of it?

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walks about, seeking whom he may devour" 1 Peter 5:8

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy." John 10:10

THAT'S his JOB, my friends! Why are we surprised by this? Why are we mad at Pat Robertson for pointing it out? The fact is, whether we want to admit it or not, there is an actual (not metaphorical) enemy of all that is good, of all that reflects the glory of God, roaming about this earth, with one clear cut, laser-beam focused mission: DESTRUCTION & BONDAGE. Period. Do you think he cares whether or not he gets the credit? Don't you think it only emboldens his dastardly deeds to deflect the putricity of said dastardly deeds back on his Enemy, the Creator of the heavens and earth?

I for one am not falling for it. As a follower of Christ, I am called to pick up the second half of that John 10:10 verse, where Jesus says "I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly". That means, first of all, recognizing the first half, that there is a real devil to resist. Secondly, and more importantly, I am called to let Jesus Christ, through the weak and foolish vessel that I am, show justice, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, and yes, SET CAPTIVES FREE! To let mercy and truth kiss one another. THIS is my clear cut, laser beam mission.

To those who cry out for judgment, I plead with you: Beware. We are ALL under judgment, of one kind or another. But, thanks be to God:

Mercy triumphs over judgment. James 2:13

The truth is, without the risen King of Kings, I am just as lost and hopeless in my nicety nice, safe and warm, shiny happy American life of priviledge, as any person, place or thing that has made a "pact with the devil".

I need a deliverer. His name is Jesus. May I never forget that.

I hate John Eldredge

... but not for the reasons you might think.

Yeah, yeah, I've heard all the "he's a New Age, heretical, movie addicted, eco-freak who takes way too many vacations" diatribe (ok, that last one was mine... but he DOES seem to be canoe-ing down the Yukon or hiking the Grand Tetons an awful lot. Who takes this many trips, seriously? Of course, I am just jealous, I'll admit... but I digress...).

No, the reason I hate him isn't because I think he's some kind of some charismatic cultish, swashbuckling He-Pollyana, making the Gospel seem better than it actually is (which he has been accused of doing). It's not because he equates virtually every aspect of life to some scene out of Lord of the Rings (which he pretty much does)... or even that he actually likes the movie Titanic (which is grounds for revilement in and of itself).

None of these things are legitimate reasons to hate John Eldredge. In fact, except for his obsession with Lord of the Rings, I think he is right on. In the Biblical sense, even. He understands, and is desparately trying to convey to anyone with ears to hear, that the Gospel of Jesus Christ really IS good news, and that there is more to the Christian life than perfecting the science of "sin management". He gets it. He refuses to live in the malaise that much of the church is content to languish in, and call that "holiness". He dares to believe that Jesus really meant it when he said that He came that we might have abundant life. He REALLY believes that.

He has pushed me out of my comfy little stupor... confirmed things to me that somewhere, way back in the recesses of my mind I always thought were so, but never heard anyone else articulate... challenged me to get out of my complacent little comfort zone. He has forced me to face myself... and know that, whether or not I ever do step out and take the risk to find this abundant life in Christ, I can never go back to the way things were. I will never be the same.

And that's why I hate him.

Darn that John Eldredge, anyway.

The Prayer of Eutychus

Something I shamelessly lifted off of someone else's blog. Enjoy!

The Prayer of Eutychus

If you think the prayer of Jabez was a blessing . . . hold on to your shorts!

An Abridged version of the new hit book, “The Prayer of Eutychus”
by Jonathan McKee

Ever feel tired and weary? Does your job got you down? Tired of getting home from work only to find that your dog ate your remote control, your new white shirt just went though the wash with your new red towels, and your two year old just tried to play a fruit roll-up in your CD player?Well a young man named Eutychus had the exact same struggles.

“Who is Eutychus?” you ask. He’s only found in two little verses of scriptures. Two small verses that you can miss if you blink. And these two small verses can change your life for good . . . that’s what you want to hear right?Here in the middle of the 20th chapter of Acts, Luke inserts two small life-changing verses about a young man named Eutychus, and I’ve built a theology on it! Check out the blessings in store for you.

Let me give you some back history. Paul is speaking to a group in a three story house in Troas. It is hot, and a young man named Eutychus sits by a window for some fresh air. The name Eutychcus is Greek, so we can only assume that this is a man of Greek birth. Therefore we can only conclude that he frequented a lot of the Greek Restaurants in Troas, and these restaurants load their food with Garlic. . . thus, explaining everyone making him sit by the window. But as Paul speaks . . . something magnificent happens.

Let’s look together:Acts 20:9-10 (NIV)Seated in a window was a young man named Eutychus, who was sinking into a deep sleep as Paul talked on and on. When he was sound asleep, he fell to the ground from the third story and was picked up dead. [10] Paul went down, threw himself on the young man and put his arms around him. "Don't be alarmed," he said. "He's alive!"Wow. These two verses can change your life.

Many of us feel like Eutychus. Maybe it’s because we are young, like verse 9 says Eutychus was. Maybe it’s because are surrounded by rich friends. You’ll notice that this was a 3 story building. Only the very rich could afford such an edifice. So we can only conclude that the host here had some PHAT BANK!!! And Eutychus, a young Greek boy invited into this environment, must have been a close friend of these homeowners. Possibly best friends. Eutychus probably went bowling with them every Friday night. If he would walk into a restaurant, and these friends were there, they would all yell in delight, “Eutychus, come join us. But please . . . sit over here by the window!”

We also see from this passage that Paul talked “on and on.” We all can relate to that. Sitting in church listening to some guy who THINKS he’s Andy Stanley! Guys that aren’t Andy, and just put us to sleep!Many of us might also relate to Eutychus because we are working on our computers all day. The reference is subtle, but the verse clearly says, “seated in a window.” The New Centurion Version of the scripture said “as Eutychus was in . . . Windows.” We can only conclude that this is a prophecy as to the upcoming computer age where many of us will spend much of our time in “Windows.” It doesn’t specify whether this means Windows 2000, or XP, but it clearly says in Windows, unfortunately for our Mac user friends, God Bless their souls.

Well, Eutychus did what many of us feel like doing: just going to sleep. He slept and then fell “to the ground.” Notice this scripture says “to” the ground not “on” the ground. If it just said he fell “on” the ground, then the journey to the ground wasn’t important. But because it said “to” the ground, we can only conclude that this journey was important!Greek culture teaches us that a journey is a time of storytelling and expression. Any Greek young man living in Troas, going on a journey in that day, would always share his feelings on that journey, he would express himself.

The jewel that is here in this small overlooked verse in the book of Acts is a prayer: The Prayer of Eutychus. (You’ll find keychains and devotionals at your local Christian Bookstore- let’s share the blessing together!) Eutychus cries out a prayer as he’s falling from the window, as he’s escaping his overwhelmed situation, as he’s fleeing his rich friends who always make him sit by the dang window! We don’t get to hear the prayer, but we know it was something like, “Aaaaaaaauuuuuuuuugh!”

Do you ever feel like just crying out to our Lord, “Aaaaaaaauuuuuuuuugh!” I sure do. But what the Lord is telling us here is that when we cry out to him in the midst of our retreat . . . he will declare us ALIVE, just like the Apostle Paul did to Eutychus.How many of you would like to feel alive. Well, God wants to give you that feeling, and you don’t even have to jump out of a window. You simply pray the prayer of Eutychus, “Aaaaaaaauuuuuuuuugh!”

Many of you aren’t sure how to pray the prayer of Eutychus. And it’s good to be sure, so make sure you buy any of the guidance books in the Prayer of Eutychus series:

“How to Pray the Prayer of Eutychus Properly"

“Worship Like Eutychus”

“Using Windows XP Like Eutychus”

“Croc Wrestling and Yelling Aaaaaaaauuuuuuuuugh!”

And you can feel much better sipping coffee out of your “Prayer of Eutychus” coffee mug, making toast in your “Prayer of Eutychus” toaster oven with the “Prayer of Eutychus” toaster cozy and sleeping in your “Prayer of Eutychus” comforter set. These are just a sliver of the blessings you can purchase if you want to feel alive.So don’t let life get you down. You too can say “Aaaaaaaauuuuuuuuugh!” and be made alive! You too can experience the Prayer of Eutychus and be blessed.

"Hate" Speech

I hate offending people.

I really do.

But sometimes, when I state my sincere and deeply held beliefs, it offends people... Like I said, I hate that.

But it raises a question: Which do I hate more, offending people, or suppressing my deeply held beliefs for fear of offending people? Which would I rather sacrifice: free speech, or the semblence of "getting along"?

I suppose then, it becomes a question of timing, and motive. What has prompted me to speak? Am I just obnoxiously shooting my mouth off (very well could be, it has been known to happen, um several times)... Am I like a college freshman who celebrates her new found freedom to stay up as late as I want, eat whatever I want, study/don't study whenever I want, just because I can? "It's MY right, after all, nana nanaaaana!" Cause that, I'm thinkin, just might constitute abuse of said freedom. That would be bad.

"It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don't use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that's how freedom grows. For everything we know about God's Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That's an act of true freedom. If you bite and ravage each other, watch out—in no time at all you will be annihilating each other, and where will your precious freedom be then?"
Galatians 5:13

Geepers, I don't want to ravage or annihilate anyone. But what if someone else has inititated the discussion? Do I have a right to respond? What if my opinion seems antithetical to the person I am responding to? They may not like me. They may label me as a this "wing" or that "wing" extremist. Ah, the "wings". I hate the "wings". I hate being labeled. I also hate being misunderstood. As soon as we start with the labeling, that's it, no more effort to understand the other side, then boom, end of civil discussion. I have done both, by the way (the labeling and misunderstanding thing). I hate that.

Then there's the question of timing. Maybe I'm "right" as rain, as they say... but is this the best time to say it? Yikes, this one really hurts. My timing can be pretty bad. I can be pretty insensitive. "Yeah but, I'm righ...." Yeah but nothing. Sometimes its best to just SHUT UP, NANCY.

"To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.... "
The Byrds (oh yeah, and Ecclesiastes 3:1)

Ok, so what if, to the best of my judgment, I have passed the timing and motive test, but STILL end up offending people? Gosh I really hate that. Now what do I do? They are still questioning my motives! How dare they? Who do they think... wait, am I doing the same thing? Am I certain I am not questioning THEIR motives? Crap. I do that sometimes, God, don't I? ("Sometimes?" I hear You say?)

Yeah, but I need to vindicate myself, don't I?

"Don't be obsessed with getting your own advantage..."
Philippians 2:3

Oh, come on, God! [sigh] Ok, I suppose you're right...

So then, what? I suppose this means my freedom to speak my offensive beliefs is better exercised when I am more concerned about being faithful to YOU than than defending myself? But it still doesn't mean I won't end up offending people (have I mentioned how I hate to offend people?)

The whole thing makes my stomach churn a little. Like I said, I hate to be hated. I like to be liked. That's the way it should be... everyone always getting along, holding hands and singing harmoniously,euphorically, like in that Coca Cola commerical circa 1970 something (come on, everybody, sing along with me now: "I'd like to buy the world a Coke..." ok, I digress. Sorry)

But then there's that whole troubling statement:

"The world will hate you (that is, me and anyone who follows YOU)
because of Me (that is, You)."
Luke 21:17

So let's see if I understand this: if I hold true to God's Word, even if I try to do it in the most loving way possible, I am going to not only be misunderstood, but hated? Well, that sucks.

It's just too much work to keep everyone happy. It seems like it would be easier to just roll over and let everyone else have their opinions, and keep mine to myself.

But you know what I really hate?

I hate that I can't do that. In the end, I guess I don't hate being hated as much as I thought. What I really hate is the thought of betraying what I believe with all my heart is true. I believe in the Bible. I believe what is says is true. I know that offends some people. Heck, I think it offends a lot of people, and if what the Bible says really is true, it's going to offend more and more people as time goes on. If I can't keep everyone happy, and I can't deny my faith in God's Word... what am I to do? What is left to say to those who disagree with me? Who misunderstand me? Who even... gulp... hate me?

"And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you.
(AND I DARE SAY, TO ME... my edit!)
Only let us live up to what we have already attained."
Philippians 3:15-16

I guess that's going to have to be ok for now.

Whine and Eggs

Ok, so I am putting groceries away the other day, and having a little whining session in my head while doing so... Silently whining to myself, to my God, about this, about that... "why, why, why, me, me, me, bla, bla bla..." funny thing about silent whining, apparently it's just as annoying to His ears as the "out loud" kind... cause the next thing I know, there is this inexplicable chain reaction of groceries falling, and exploding, on my head, on the floor, all over my shirt, my very being... eggs launching out of their carton like hand grenades... creamer cascading on my newly mopped floor... "what's that I hear? Laughter? God, are you laughing at me?"That couldn't possibly be. God would NEVER laugh at such a misfortunate series of events, let alone cause them...

... and yet...

I realized in the midst of the laughter, the absence of another noise. I wasn't whining anymore.

Fast forward to the next morning. I was given a gift on Easter Sunday by a dear lady at my church, a little devotional by Oswald Chambers. Here is what I read:

April 14th
"Take my YOKE (my edit) upon you and learn from Me."
Matthew 11:29
The burden that God places on us squeezes the grapes in our lives and produces the wine, but most of us see only the wine and not the burden. No power on earth or in hell can conquer the Spirit of God living within the human spirit; it creates an inner invincibility.If your life is producing only WHINE (my edit) instead of the wine, ruthlessly kick it out. It is definitely a crime for a Christian to be weak in God's strength."

Yoke... Whine... You're funny, God.