I've been mulling on some difficult truths this weekend...actually over the past few weeks. I feel like I'm being followed by complacency...like that neighborhood dog that comes running alongside of you every morning and everybody assumes is yours. (Or isn't it?) To be honest I've been a little heartsick over things I've encountered regarding the church. It's like the bride went and set herself up as an emaciated supermodel. Yeah, the trappings look really good, but the body is undernourished for want of real food. We think we're righteous, and we portray righteousness in a certain way so that those to whom we wish to portray Christ think that's what Christianity means. Good behavior. Clean living. It's not. Salvation comes from the Lord. Righteousness comes from living for Him. Esther lived for Him in the harem of a King. Isaiah lived for Him and went naked a year.
Those seem a little peripheral to where I was going, but what I'm trying to say is that I can no longer concern myself with what Christianity looks like. I've recently realized the absolute necessity of concerning myself with what Christianity lives like. It's been at the back of my mind for weeks now, and tonight, after trying to focus on "important" things like writing papers and keeping up on facebook, I found myself heaving great snuffly unladylike sobs on my staircase. Have I been so concerned with making sure that others feel "love" from me that I haven't given them a chance to see what that love actually is? Is it possible that somebody I care for is unaware of my God because I was afraid to speak His name? Have I watched them suffer without offering the Healer of my own wounds?
At this thought I blew my nose, dried my tears, (proceeded to sniffle and cry just a little) and came to the following:
I don't want to live a powerless life. I'm done compromising. I'm determined to love fiercely. I'm going all out- giving everything I have, and going until I drop. I'm going to war, and I'm going under His banner. I refuse to hang back at the barracks while a giant taunts my God because I find empty words fearsome. Because of the Life He has given me and the Love He has shown me I will fight death itself in the name of the Champion of Life by the power of His Spirit and I will sow in tears on the off chance that I might reap in joy.
There is too much at risk- too much to loose to be satisfied any longer with armchair theology and religious platitudes. People are dying. Hearts are being ravaged by a smiling enemy that numbs them into leprous complacency. It's time to move. It's time to speak. It's time to break up the fallow ground and to cry out to our God on behalf of those who are suffering for want of a Savior.
I'm starting on my knees. I'm praying for His power and strength so that others can come to know His peace and grace. I'm praying for boldness and endurance. I'm praying that He'll give me enough of His own love that I'll forget my pride and my comfortable position in favor of speaking His truth.
Join me?
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Beauty...In which I considered berating John Keats, but then forgot.
I was shopping for a birthday present for my niece this weekend when I suddenly became irate. Well...not THAT suddenly. I went out to buy a gift, which I usually enjoy, but I somehow stumbled across singles hour in the entire community of local shopping venues. Cranky. I don't like being looked at. Especially when I'm cranky. And shopping. Vicious cycle.
At any rate, I ventured into the children's literature section, thinking a creative girl like the sweet one I was shopping for might like something interactive and fun. The only interactive books were plastered with Barbie. I looked for a similar alternative, and came up dry, although I did manage to find a Bible that somebody had seen fit to reduce to a whopping 18 pages long. And this after I had removed a filthy magazine from the floor level shelf of coloring books. Seething.
I moved on to the toy aisle, only to find dolls with impossible curves and ridiculous clothing taunting me from their sports cars and mini-mansions. I do not envy the decisions that parents are faced with in consideration of the shallow pool of amusements made available to their children. I ultimately left the store with a collection of coloring/school supplies that seemed appropriately pink and sparkly, but upon arriving home, I discovered that bubbles I had thrown in on a whim were actually tubes of sparkly lip gloss. This was ridiculous. Covered in tiarras and glitter, there was no way that these tubes were marketed for anybody but an especially small someone. Scandalized.
This sent me into a mull amongst mullings. I don't want to give my niece presents that encourage her to think that lip gloss makes her beautiful or special. She is both of those things already. Psalm 139 indicates that (beyond the shadow of a doubt) we all are. But what about me (other than the words that I speak) communicates that to the people in my life? Do I live like I believe that? Honestly, I considered this even as I dabbed on my own lip gloss and mascera this morning. Do these things define me? Am I a slave to them? I eventually concluded that it was just good grooming to try and present oneself as clean and put together. BUT, I do think that there is a line between self-expression and creating an identity for oneself. I like purple. Today I wore an eggplantish top. Expression. When my appearance, or the identity I'm trying to project starts to define my schedule or behavior, I'd say that the line has been crossed. But that's beside the point.
What I'm wondering is this: How can I reflect real (gentle& quiet spirit) beauty in my own behavior and appearance? What is God's idea of beauty?
*I'd really like to have this conversation, so if you have any experiences or thoughts you want to throw out here or on the facebook link have at it, friends.
At any rate, I ventured into the children's literature section, thinking a creative girl like the sweet one I was shopping for might like something interactive and fun. The only interactive books were plastered with Barbie. I looked for a similar alternative, and came up dry, although I did manage to find a Bible that somebody had seen fit to reduce to a whopping 18 pages long. And this after I had removed a filthy magazine from the floor level shelf of coloring books. Seething.
I moved on to the toy aisle, only to find dolls with impossible curves and ridiculous clothing taunting me from their sports cars and mini-mansions. I do not envy the decisions that parents are faced with in consideration of the shallow pool of amusements made available to their children. I ultimately left the store with a collection of coloring/school supplies that seemed appropriately pink and sparkly, but upon arriving home, I discovered that bubbles I had thrown in on a whim were actually tubes of sparkly lip gloss. This was ridiculous. Covered in tiarras and glitter, there was no way that these tubes were marketed for anybody but an especially small someone. Scandalized.
This sent me into a mull amongst mullings. I don't want to give my niece presents that encourage her to think that lip gloss makes her beautiful or special. She is both of those things already. Psalm 139 indicates that (beyond the shadow of a doubt) we all are. But what about me (other than the words that I speak) communicates that to the people in my life? Do I live like I believe that? Honestly, I considered this even as I dabbed on my own lip gloss and mascera this morning. Do these things define me? Am I a slave to them? I eventually concluded that it was just good grooming to try and present oneself as clean and put together. BUT, I do think that there is a line between self-expression and creating an identity for oneself. I like purple. Today I wore an eggplantish top. Expression. When my appearance, or the identity I'm trying to project starts to define my schedule or behavior, I'd say that the line has been crossed. But that's beside the point.
What I'm wondering is this: How can I reflect real (gentle& quiet spirit) beauty in my own behavior and appearance? What is God's idea of beauty?
*I'd really like to have this conversation, so if you have any experiences or thoughts you want to throw out here or on the facebook link have at it, friends.
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