After spening a week away from my family, I realized why I am such a homebody. It isn't because I am agorophobic, or because I missed the computer, but sitting here, in the middle of Aiden's mess of toys, listening to Kikka mouth off to everyone that's not paying attention to her, and listening to my mom and Amy's non-stop chattering (they like talking...), I remember that home isn't locational for me. It isn't this 12 year old track home in O'Fallon, Misouri. It isn't even this Suburb of the greatest city in the Midwest. It's my family.
It never ceases to amaze me how much I adore all of them. There's a lot of them, and they're noisy and obnoxious, but I wouldn't trade them for anything.
So... school is just around the corner. It's been sort of a big summer for me-- publishing my novel, really getting involved with True Vine and Gamaliel's Counsel, and a lot of travelling that isn't even over yet. At the end of August, I'll be visiting Grandville, Michigan to meet my best friend of 8 years. Yes, to meet her. We have been pen-pals since we were 12 years old. We've been through engagements (all on her end), break-ups (of course, all on my end), brain surgeries, addictions, and serious struggles with God together. She was the first person to ever ask to be my best friend, and the first person to ever tell me that if there was ever anything that I couldn't ask God for, that she would be the one to talk to Him in my stead. We've mourned with each other and we've rejoiced with each other... and now, for the first time ever, I will be able to give her a REAL hug. I am excited beyond belief.
July 31, 2007
July 16, 2007
Job Moments
For the past few weeks, I've really been trying to work on a lot of issues with God. On Saturday, at church, my dad talked about two things that really struck me: asking God to reveal to you what lies Satan uses to distract you and influence you in your life, and consecrating yourself for Holy use. For starters, I thought for sure that I was past the whole being lied to by Satan thing... I was convinced that when I stopped cutting, I stopped being duped by the devil. But in the past three weeks or so, I've been running into some things that have been revealed to me as major roadblocks in how I can be used by God. Last week, the topic of discussion between my Abba and me was boys. This week, our conversations have to do with my lack of friends.
See, I have close friends... but Teia lives in Bolivar. Abbi is in Michigan, and right now, Ian is somewhere in Europe... or Iceland... or something. I have yet to be able to really connect with anyone around myself that I can really, really be close to. (This is not to downplay the importance of the irreplaceable trio in my life... it's just different when you can see them regularly.)
Last night, I found myself sleepless (go figure), and pleading for God to show me what is keeping me from really connecting with people. I kept coming up with my own answers for the question (I like to do that when asking God things), like, "Am I too blunt?", "Do I need to change who I am?", or even the infamous "it's because I'm fat, isn't it?" And though God answered "no" to all of my questions, my chain of thought proceeded to the inevitable "Well, even if You gave me a close friend, you'd just take them away like You always have in the past" routine that I've been through time and time again with God.
It struck me, right about the time I finished the "I'm too fat" question that I sounded just like Moses when he was making all sorts of excuses for himself when God asked him to do something. I remembered God asking him, "Who made man's mouth?", and I laughed at myself.
Our excuses are worthless to Him, because He knows our capabilities. It isn't about how fat I am, or how blunt, or even how many friends I have-- it's about whether or not I realize that He is totally in control.
This is where the consecration comes in. I think that Moses and Job are two perfect examples of consecrated men in the Bible, but it wasn't until they realized that God created them for a distinct purpose, and that they were pointless without Him that they were truly at peace. They recognized God for who He is, and recognized their place in light of Him. Moses fell before the Burning Bush before he freed a nation from slavery, and Job put his hand over his mouth in embarrassment before God restored his riches and position.
The refinement was incredibly blunt, but some of us need that every now and then.
See, I have close friends... but Teia lives in Bolivar. Abbi is in Michigan, and right now, Ian is somewhere in Europe... or Iceland... or something. I have yet to be able to really connect with anyone around myself that I can really, really be close to. (This is not to downplay the importance of the irreplaceable trio in my life... it's just different when you can see them regularly.)
Last night, I found myself sleepless (go figure), and pleading for God to show me what is keeping me from really connecting with people. I kept coming up with my own answers for the question (I like to do that when asking God things), like, "Am I too blunt?", "Do I need to change who I am?", or even the infamous "it's because I'm fat, isn't it?" And though God answered "no" to all of my questions, my chain of thought proceeded to the inevitable "Well, even if You gave me a close friend, you'd just take them away like You always have in the past" routine that I've been through time and time again with God.
It struck me, right about the time I finished the "I'm too fat" question that I sounded just like Moses when he was making all sorts of excuses for himself when God asked him to do something. I remembered God asking him, "Who made man's mouth?", and I laughed at myself.
Our excuses are worthless to Him, because He knows our capabilities. It isn't about how fat I am, or how blunt, or even how many friends I have-- it's about whether or not I realize that He is totally in control.
This is where the consecration comes in. I think that Moses and Job are two perfect examples of consecrated men in the Bible, but it wasn't until they realized that God created them for a distinct purpose, and that they were pointless without Him that they were truly at peace. They recognized God for who He is, and recognized their place in light of Him. Moses fell before the Burning Bush before he freed a nation from slavery, and Job put his hand over his mouth in embarrassment before God restored his riches and position.
The refinement was incredibly blunt, but some of us need that every now and then.
July 14, 2007
Scars that Save
Over and over Your blood covers me.
How many times will it take me to see?
I am so dangerous.
I am so irresponsible.
Here I am, broken again, but then You show me,
You're wearing the scars that save.
How can You see me, as something so lovely?
Cause it's killing me that You took the blame.
Over and over it falls back to me.
My knees hit the floor and it's easy to see.
I am so arrogant.
I feel so unforgivable.
This is my same old song.
The one where I do it all wrong.
And I will try (fight) with all that
I am to get it right in the end.
Here I am, broken again, but then You show me,
You're wearing the scars that save.
How can You see me, as something so lovely?
Cause it's killing me that I am to blame.
How many times will it take me to see?
I am so dangerous.
I am so irresponsible.
Here I am, broken again, but then You show me,
You're wearing the scars that save.
How can You see me, as something so lovely?
Cause it's killing me that You took the blame.
Over and over it falls back to me.
My knees hit the floor and it's easy to see.
I am so arrogant.
I feel so unforgivable.
This is my same old song.
The one where I do it all wrong.
And I will try (fight) with all that
I am to get it right in the end.
Here I am, broken again, but then You show me,
You're wearing the scars that save.
How can You see me, as something so lovely?
Cause it's killing me that I am to blame.
Kids in the Way
July 11, 2007
Two Poems On Tea Parties and Ghosts
The First Tea Party: Written in a Fit of Bitternes
Toward a Boy Undeserving of My Emotions
(April 6, 2007)
No, I won't stop apologizing for things that aren't really my fault
Because maybe it amuses me when you're just a little upset at my insecurities.
Maybe I want you to feel bad, because you never cared to before
And maybe I don't see that you ever even cared before at all.
Maybe the blood rushing from my face and my fingers turning to ice
Is just a reaction to your inability to take anything seriously.
Maybe ghosts are just too hard for me to have tea with
I can't sit across the table and smile when it's fake.
One lump or two, it never really mattered to me at all.
Although the scones were always my favorite,
I can't go on with things when I don't care, even though I know you can.
What makes it worse is, I know that I don't deserve you.
This has nothing to do with sour grapes.
I don't deserve you.
But I don't deserve another cup of tea, either.
And you're just going on with it because you like the taste.
The Final Tea Party: My Declaration of Independence
From Boys Undeserving of my Emotions
(July 11, 2007)
Some will leave you, but they will never leave you whole
They'll listen, but never really be able to hear
(Meaning they hear, but they'll never really care)
They'll call you worthless and push you away
Your ghosts will invite you to tea
Sporting somethings similar to character
Just as strong as their weakly brewed darjeeling
And strength just as pale as their pekoe stained with milk
Calling for two lumps instead of one to sugarcoat the truth.
These spirits will betray you
Lying to your face about what they could or couldn't be
Secretly saying "You're too good, but not good enough for me"
They'll send out the crisp invitations with only your name on the list
But if tea is any indication of character
And tea parties are the shindig of the posthumous,
I think I'll stick with coffee from now on--
The fresh, mellow energy... the strength that keeps you alive.
Toward a Boy Undeserving of My Emotions
(April 6, 2007)
No, I won't stop apologizing for things that aren't really my fault
Because maybe it amuses me when you're just a little upset at my insecurities.
Maybe I want you to feel bad, because you never cared to before
And maybe I don't see that you ever even cared before at all.
Maybe the blood rushing from my face and my fingers turning to ice
Is just a reaction to your inability to take anything seriously.
Maybe ghosts are just too hard for me to have tea with
I can't sit across the table and smile when it's fake.
One lump or two, it never really mattered to me at all.
Although the scones were always my favorite,
I can't go on with things when I don't care, even though I know you can.
What makes it worse is, I know that I don't deserve you.
This has nothing to do with sour grapes.
I don't deserve you.
But I don't deserve another cup of tea, either.
And you're just going on with it because you like the taste.
The Final Tea Party: My Declaration of Independence
From Boys Undeserving of my Emotions
(July 11, 2007)
Some will leave you, but they will never leave you whole
They'll listen, but never really be able to hear
(Meaning they hear, but they'll never really care)
They'll call you worthless and push you away
Your ghosts will invite you to tea
Sporting somethings similar to character
Just as strong as their weakly brewed darjeeling
And strength just as pale as their pekoe stained with milk
Calling for two lumps instead of one to sugarcoat the truth.
These spirits will betray you
Lying to your face about what they could or couldn't be
Secretly saying "You're too good, but not good enough for me"
They'll send out the crisp invitations with only your name on the list
But if tea is any indication of character
And tea parties are the shindig of the posthumous,
I think I'll stick with coffee from now on--
The fresh, mellow energy... the strength that keeps you alive.
July 09, 2007
My Top 20
People pin me as two things most often... 1) Anti-Romantic and 2) an average 20 year old kid. In order to prove both of these notions wrong, I'm posting my top 20 songs ever recorded list. Enjoy... and be surprised, maybe.
1) "Worlds Apart" - Jars of Clay
2) Beethoven's 5th Symphony
3) "Martyrs and Thieves" - Jennifer Knapp
4) "Old Rugged Cross"
5) Mozart's Symphony #40
6) "Why Try To Change Me Now?" - Frank Sinatra
7) "Can't Hurry Love" - Phil Collins
8) "My Girl" - The Temptations
9) "Pressure" - Queen
10) "Keep Waiting" - Stavesacre
11) "My Ever, My All" - Steve
12) "I Cry Out" - Parallax View
13) "Iris" - Goo Goo Dolls
14) "Everybody Loves Somebody" - Peggy Lee
15) "For Once In My Life" - The Temptations
16) "Fools Rush In" - Elvis Presley
17) "It Is Well"
18) "In Christ Alone" - Adriane Leishing-Camp and Geoffe Moore
19) "Scream" - ZOEGirl
20) "Ever The Same" - Rob Thomas
1) "Worlds Apart" - Jars of Clay
2) Beethoven's 5th Symphony
3) "Martyrs and Thieves" - Jennifer Knapp
4) "Old Rugged Cross"
5) Mozart's Symphony #40
6) "Why Try To Change Me Now?" - Frank Sinatra
7) "Can't Hurry Love" - Phil Collins
8) "My Girl" - The Temptations
9) "Pressure" - Queen
10) "Keep Waiting" - Stavesacre
11) "My Ever, My All" - Steve
12) "I Cry Out" - Parallax View
13) "Iris" - Goo Goo Dolls
14) "Everybody Loves Somebody" - Peggy Lee
15) "For Once In My Life" - The Temptations
16) "Fools Rush In" - Elvis Presley
17) "It Is Well"
18) "In Christ Alone" - Adriane Leishing-Camp and Geoffe Moore
19) "Scream" - ZOEGirl
20) "Ever The Same" - Rob Thomas
July 02, 2007
Booby Prizes and the Holy Spirit
This post will be two-fold, but I think it sort of ties in together.
Lately, I've formed the habit of not sleeping. On this particular morning, this habit provided me with the opportunity to dig into God's word by light of the sunrise. Unfortunately, my Bible was not in my bedroom, and at 5 AM, I really didn't feel like venturing outside and waking up my parents, as well as my puppy, I scanned my prolific bookshelves for a Bible or any book that might contain large chunks of scripture.
I picked up a book that I found at a book fair when I was about 11 years old. It was published in 1965, and is entitled "Going Steady With God." It is a one-year devotional plan for teenage girls, but there is a lot of scripture in it, so I thought I would at least start in July and read four or five pages. I was surprised to find an in-depth look at the workings of the Holy Spirit after the day of Pentecost, as well as some incredibly outdated lingo and anecdotes. One of these anecdotes really jumped out at me.
"Once when I was your age I was at a Sunday school party where we were asked to name all the parts of a car. I got the booby prize because I named everything but the engine! Many Christians today need to be given the booby prize. They name everything about the Christian life and everything about the Church except the power, the dynamo!"
I still have a smile on my face from this excerpt from the book. Despite the obviously 60's overtones, Anna Mow had one thing right-- most Christians DO deserve the booby prize. In today's ministries, the movement of the Holy Spirit is left out, ignored, or never even taught.
This brings me to the second part of the post. I randomly check some part-time job listings on snagajob.com, just in case I ever feel like being employed by another person again. Today, I really identified with one of their promotional strategies.
In a modern, program driven church, it is REALLY easy to find a place to plug in and serve, much like it is easy to find a minimum wage job. However, the Holy Spirit is rarely involved in this process. We take our multiple choice personality test, run it through the system, and pair ourselves with what we seem to be best suited for. But, all too often, when we try to work outside our gifting and outside of the leading of the Holy Spirit, things get awkward, much like the photos above. I have known many lifeguards working in mail rooms, and jockeys working on cattle ranches, and I have definitely known some mechanics who were placed into jobs at trendy boutiques.
This is all metaphorical, of course, but when who we are doesn't jive with what we are doing for Christ, we aren't reaching our full potential. We aren't accessing the dynamo of the Christian faith, or the powerhouse of the Church-- the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
June 27, 2007
Legacy & Unvoice poetry contest.
Maybe someday, I'll be able to say what this (as well as numerous other Nichole Nordeman songs) means to me.
Meanwhile...
Unvoiced Poetry Contest:
Hosted By: Unvoiced
Deadline: Thursday Jul 26, 2007 at 7:00 PM
Where: Anywhere in the USA
Click Here To View Event
To enter this contest, e-mail me (unvoicedthebook@mail.com) with an original poem or essay expressing how self-harm has affected your life.
Possible topics might be:
*Are you recovering? Do you want to?
*How do you feel when you self-injure?
*Do you know and love someone who self-injures?
*How has self-injury affected the relationships in your life?
Prizes include:
Grand Prize: Free, autographed copy of Unvoiced by Jessica R. Goodwin; Access to the original, unrevised story blog of Unvoiced, and; your essay or poem published in the afterword of Redeemed: the sequel to Unvoiced.
Runner up: Access to the original, unrevised story blog of Unvoiced, $3.00 off your copy of Unvoiced, and your essay or poem published in the afterword of Redeemed: the sequel to Unvoiced.
3rd place: $3.00 off your copy of Unvoiced and your essay or poem published in the afterword of Redeemed: the sequel to Unvoiced.
Essays and poems will be judged by me and three of my closest friends or relatives. All contestants will be notified of the three winners on July 30th, 2007.
DEADLINE: July 26, 2007
Pass it on!
June 20, 2007
Starting Small
It's been nearly four years in the making. At last, UNVOICED IS HERE! You all haven't the slightest idea how excited I am to be writing this blog. I have just finished, published, and ordered the first edition of Unvoiced-- a novel by Jessica R. Goodwin.
If you want your own copy, click here. I apologize for the price, but it really is the cheapest way for everyone, and I promise I'm not getting more than I should from each book.
If you REALLY want to read it, but can't spare up to $15 for anything (including shipping!), let me know... I can pass around my copy, or I can order one for you with my discount and you can pay me back. Also, it is available in downloadable PDF format for a waaaay less expensive price.
So... there you go. PRAISE GOD!
If you want your own copy, click here. I apologize for the price, but it really is the cheapest way for everyone, and I promise I'm not getting more than I should from each book.
If you REALLY want to read it, but can't spare up to $15 for anything (including shipping!), let me know... I can pass around my copy, or I can order one for you with my discount and you can pay me back. Also, it is available in downloadable PDF format for a waaaay less expensive price.
So... there you go. PRAISE GOD!
June 13, 2007
This I Believe:
This I believe:
Beauty can be found in almost all things.
There are no small actions.
Despite what you think, you ARE pretty.
This I believe:
There IS a God, even if that offends you.
It doesn't matter if you disagree with me, as long as you still respect me.
We're SUPPOSED to be different-- it's how we were created.
This I believe:
Books rule. Anyone who tells you different probably forgot how to read.
Old movies are better than new ones.
Spending time with my family is approximately 164% cooler than anything else in the world.
This I believe:
You should never take relationship advice from someone who isn't even old enough to vote.
It's okay to be crushless.
It's okay to be just you.
This I believe:
YOU are the only person you should aspire to be... because that's who God wants you to be.
What you revere, you resemble.
There is nothing more beautiful than a soul captivated by the love of God.
Beauty can be found in almost all things.
There are no small actions.
Despite what you think, you ARE pretty.
This I believe:
There IS a God, even if that offends you.
It doesn't matter if you disagree with me, as long as you still respect me.
We're SUPPOSED to be different-- it's how we were created.
This I believe:
Books rule. Anyone who tells you different probably forgot how to read.
Old movies are better than new ones.
Spending time with my family is approximately 164% cooler than anything else in the world.
This I believe:
You should never take relationship advice from someone who isn't even old enough to vote.
It's okay to be crushless.
It's okay to be just you.
This I believe:
YOU are the only person you should aspire to be... because that's who God wants you to be.
What you revere, you resemble.
There is nothing more beautiful than a soul captivated by the love of God.
June 09, 2007
What inspires me...
I thought I'd post some music videos, because I have nthing better to say than what these songs say, and because I think it all needs to be said.
For this one, please take it with a grain of salt. It's actually an explanation of the next video... it's powerful, though.
For this one, please take it with a grain of salt. It's actually an explanation of the next video... it's powerful, though.
June 06, 2007
Repost
Since people actually read my blog now, I thought I'd repost this... Even if you've read it before, I think you'll get a kick out of it again.
What I Want in a Church
What I Want in a Church
June 03, 2007
L-O-V-E
"Become a nun, and I'll leave you alone."
I laughed out loud as I read this statement from a friend in a Facebook message earlier this week. A short conversation with Bob Carder over the weekend prompted me to write about it. I was going to last week, actually, but I got so caught up in denouncing the complacency of the American Church in that last post that boys seemed like a silly topic of blogging. However, I have involved a lot of people in praying for my decision in this matter, so I figured that an update amidst such heart changing was in order. =-)
For the past couple of years, I've been really struggling with what role God has for me as a woman of God, and trying to flesh out the desires He has placed in me regarding romance and family. It seems that all of my friends are on either one side of the spectrum or the other (except for my father, who wisely fall somewhere in the middle.) Either I WILL get married, or I should devote my entire earthly life to celibacy.
Over the past few months, however, I've found myself really meditating on the idea of marriage. See, it's easy to say "I want to get married!" when you know someone you think you want to marry or "I'm swearing off boys forever!" when that person just TOTALLY played you, but for a while now, I've found myself simply at peace and not saying I will or I won't. Last week was really confirmation to me in this area. I found God telling me, "You only deserve someone who lives with total abandonment for the cause of Christ, and until that person comes along, you are to just strive to be the woman I created in you." Simple as that.
This was freeing for me, to be perfectly honest-- to know that God has created me as an individual entity that doesn't have to sit around and wait for a husband before I can accomplish ministry. Furthermore, God allowed me to throw out all of my "standards" but one-- total abandonment for the cause of Christ. To hold any other standard than that is to limit God in who He has me marry. God knows the desires of my heart, and while I am quick to assure all of my friends that they will find just the person God has for them, I still keep thinking, "mine HAS to love to read, he HAS to want to homeschool his kids, etc...", but it's not in my control anyway, and if it is God's will for me to marry a man like that, then I most definitely will have opportunity. I've found that it was not marital direction that God was pressing my heart to find, but contentment in knowing that He knows me (and my future husband!) much better than I do.
Until I find that perfect or almost-there boy, though, I'm fervently praying that God will guard my heart, because when I try to do it, I either fail miserably or I end up passing up chances.
Only He can do it right... story of my life.
I laughed out loud as I read this statement from a friend in a Facebook message earlier this week. A short conversation with Bob Carder over the weekend prompted me to write about it. I was going to last week, actually, but I got so caught up in denouncing the complacency of the American Church in that last post that boys seemed like a silly topic of blogging. However, I have involved a lot of people in praying for my decision in this matter, so I figured that an update amidst such heart changing was in order. =-)
For the past couple of years, I've been really struggling with what role God has for me as a woman of God, and trying to flesh out the desires He has placed in me regarding romance and family. It seems that all of my friends are on either one side of the spectrum or the other (except for my father, who wisely fall somewhere in the middle.) Either I WILL get married, or I should devote my entire earthly life to celibacy.
Over the past few months, however, I've found myself really meditating on the idea of marriage. See, it's easy to say "I want to get married!" when you know someone you think you want to marry or "I'm swearing off boys forever!" when that person just TOTALLY played you, but for a while now, I've found myself simply at peace and not saying I will or I won't. Last week was really confirmation to me in this area. I found God telling me, "You only deserve someone who lives with total abandonment for the cause of Christ, and until that person comes along, you are to just strive to be the woman I created in you." Simple as that.
This was freeing for me, to be perfectly honest-- to know that God has created me as an individual entity that doesn't have to sit around and wait for a husband before I can accomplish ministry. Furthermore, God allowed me to throw out all of my "standards" but one-- total abandonment for the cause of Christ. To hold any other standard than that is to limit God in who He has me marry. God knows the desires of my heart, and while I am quick to assure all of my friends that they will find just the person God has for them, I still keep thinking, "mine HAS to love to read, he HAS to want to homeschool his kids, etc...", but it's not in my control anyway, and if it is God's will for me to marry a man like that, then I most definitely will have opportunity. I've found that it was not marital direction that God was pressing my heart to find, but contentment in knowing that He knows me (and my future husband!) much better than I do.
Until I find that perfect or almost-there boy, though, I'm fervently praying that God will guard my heart, because when I try to do it, I either fail miserably or I end up passing up chances.
Only He can do it right... story of my life.
May 30, 2007
Obedience: a choice, not a process.
I'm currently reading K. P. Yohannan's book, Revolution in World Missions. One part of the book thus far really struck me, and it got me thinking-- why can't the American Church give up their buildings, programs, and method of ministry? I find it really, really strange, in light of the millions of other Christians in the world who meet without buildings or programs, that America seems so violently attatched to their church schedules.
Here is the part of the book I'm referring to:
"This kind of miracle kept me going from village to village for those seven years of itinerant preaching. Our lives read like pages from the Book of Acts. Most nights we slept between villages in roadside ditches where we were relatively safe. Sleepong in non-Christian villages would expose us to many dangers. Our team always created a stir, and at times faced stonings and beatings.
"The mobile Gospel teams I worked with-- and often led-- were just like family to me. I began to enjoy the gypsy lifestyle we lived, and the total abandonment to the cause of Christ that is demanded of an itinerate evangelist. We were persecuted, hated and despised. Yet we kept going, knowing that we were blazing a trail for the Gospel in districts that had never before experienced an encounter with Christ" (p. 30).
Now... this sort of thing is perfectly acceptable for a preacher in Third World countries, but when you try to place a minister like Yohannan in the context of the United States, it seems absurd to us, doesn't it? Why is that? How much have we as Christians conformed to secular society? How much do we worry about retirement, investments, education, mortages, and other material concerns that bear no weight on fulfilling the Great Commission?
When Yohannan heard God's call to spread the Gospel, he didn't stop what he was doing, set up a savings account at the local bank, and enroll in a Christian University, hoping to someday make it through a Masters of Divinity so he could preach in a church full of complacent Christians, urging them to invite their friends to Friendship Sunday one day a year so that he could spread the Gospel. He heard God's call, and he listened. Simple obedience is what it really comes down to.
Now which option sounds more absurd?
Here is the part of the book I'm referring to:
"This kind of miracle kept me going from village to village for those seven years of itinerant preaching. Our lives read like pages from the Book of Acts. Most nights we slept between villages in roadside ditches where we were relatively safe. Sleepong in non-Christian villages would expose us to many dangers. Our team always created a stir, and at times faced stonings and beatings.
"The mobile Gospel teams I worked with-- and often led-- were just like family to me. I began to enjoy the gypsy lifestyle we lived, and the total abandonment to the cause of Christ that is demanded of an itinerate evangelist. We were persecuted, hated and despised. Yet we kept going, knowing that we were blazing a trail for the Gospel in districts that had never before experienced an encounter with Christ" (p. 30).
Now... this sort of thing is perfectly acceptable for a preacher in Third World countries, but when you try to place a minister like Yohannan in the context of the United States, it seems absurd to us, doesn't it? Why is that? How much have we as Christians conformed to secular society? How much do we worry about retirement, investments, education, mortages, and other material concerns that bear no weight on fulfilling the Great Commission?
When Yohannan heard God's call to spread the Gospel, he didn't stop what he was doing, set up a savings account at the local bank, and enroll in a Christian University, hoping to someday make it through a Masters of Divinity so he could preach in a church full of complacent Christians, urging them to invite their friends to Friendship Sunday one day a year so that he could spread the Gospel. He heard God's call, and he listened. Simple obedience is what it really comes down to.
Now which option sounds more absurd?
May 23, 2007
It's been a while...
My brother quoted one of my favorite authors (Brennan Manning) on his blog regarding the Discipleship training that TrueVine participated in this weekend. Oddly, I was reminded all weekend of a Brennan Manning quote, as well.
"I want neither a blood'n'guts religion that would make Clint Eastwood, not Jesus, our hero, nor a speculative religion that would imprison the Gospel in the halls of academia, nor a noisy, feel-good religion that is a naked appeal to emotion. I long for passion, intelligence, and compassion in a Church without ostentation, gently beckoning to the world to come and enjoy the peace and unity we possess because of the Spirit in our midst."
I have met so many people-- Christian and non-Christian alike-- that have expressed the same sentiments portrayed in this quote. In my entire 20 years on this earth, I have never seen with such clarity the potential of the church as I saw this weekend. I have never once felt at home at any church. God drew me out of my shell more than He has in years. I have never been able to reach beyond myself and actually volunteer to speak up in the midst of 25 other people (especially 25 people who are far more interesting and mature than I am). I have never felt quite so valuable as I did this weekend.
What's more is-- I know that my feeling valued has nothing to do with myself. This was not any normal retreat, and it didn't enforce self-confidence. It was not always a HAPPY time, and it was not constantly uplifting (or as the quote says, noisy and feel-good), but it was beautiful. It was edifying in every sense of the word. It was a group of sold-out, willing, and broken Disciples who realized that without Christ, they are nothing, but with Him they are world-changers.
He convicted, He healed, He transformed, He soothed, and He provided us we REAL smiles amidst our unity in Christ. Through this, He also revealed our potential as His Church-- as His Bride. It was stunning. It was beyond comparison to any other religious experience I have ever seen.
All weekend, the idea that "What we attract them with is what we attract them to" was repeated over and over again. I have complete confidence that the weight of the Gospel and the true love of Christian brothers and sisters that we, as the Church, saw this weekend is enough to attract, romance, and transform hearts and lives.
"I want neither a blood'n'guts religion that would make Clint Eastwood, not Jesus, our hero, nor a speculative religion that would imprison the Gospel in the halls of academia, nor a noisy, feel-good religion that is a naked appeal to emotion. I long for passion, intelligence, and compassion in a Church without ostentation, gently beckoning to the world to come and enjoy the peace and unity we possess because of the Spirit in our midst."
I have met so many people-- Christian and non-Christian alike-- that have expressed the same sentiments portrayed in this quote. In my entire 20 years on this earth, I have never seen with such clarity the potential of the church as I saw this weekend. I have never once felt at home at any church. God drew me out of my shell more than He has in years. I have never been able to reach beyond myself and actually volunteer to speak up in the midst of 25 other people (especially 25 people who are far more interesting and mature than I am). I have never felt quite so valuable as I did this weekend.
What's more is-- I know that my feeling valued has nothing to do with myself. This was not any normal retreat, and it didn't enforce self-confidence. It was not always a HAPPY time, and it was not constantly uplifting (or as the quote says, noisy and feel-good), but it was beautiful. It was edifying in every sense of the word. It was a group of sold-out, willing, and broken Disciples who realized that without Christ, they are nothing, but with Him they are world-changers.
He convicted, He healed, He transformed, He soothed, and He provided us we REAL smiles amidst our unity in Christ. Through this, He also revealed our potential as His Church-- as His Bride. It was stunning. It was beyond comparison to any other religious experience I have ever seen.
All weekend, the idea that "What we attract them with is what we attract them to" was repeated over and over again. I have complete confidence that the weight of the Gospel and the true love of Christian brothers and sisters that we, as the Church, saw this weekend is enough to attract, romance, and transform hearts and lives.
May 05, 2007
Fulfillment in Irony
God makes me giggle sometimes.
"No girl should feel she has to trade her body for love or be an old maid"
May 02, 2007
History Lesson
It always seems that we never change history
As we read old newspapers that speak of the past
Men walking on the moon, invading another nation
Or standing so tall that they were shot down.
In these moments, the idea that we're all
Just dust in the wind becomes exemplary
We feel useless and ever so small.
It is as if we must be ten times the size
Of this world just to change it or make something work
When really, the world is changed by everything
It is changed by the wind which moves
Thin, swaying tree branches, but not mountains.
It is changed by the tear that falls
Even if there is no real reason for it to surface.
It is changed when the sun rises in the morning,
And changed again when it goes down.
It is changed as the crowd rushes through the street
It is changed, even as things are simply standing still
Because everything that isn't now or forever is history
And everything we have done leaves the world
A little different than it was originally found.
How much could your smile change history,
Creating a chain reaction of smiles around the globe?
How much could your smile change history,
Creating a chain reaction of smiles around the globe?
April 23, 2007
Poem
Take a second and find your own story
Tucked behind the third couch cushion
Crumpled at the bottom of a shopping cart
Reflecting from the mud puddle down
By the old, white country church’s cemetery.
Don’t be so scared of not living an epic
Remember this moment… this very moment
With the sun shining, and the scent of the wind
Fresh in the air… in your very mind and soul
Beckoning your smile to come out and play.
Don’t focus so much on the ugliness of life
Because you miss too much of the beautiful
Already… when you’re not looking, that is.
And there is so much beauty in things-- in everything
In everything.
Tucked behind the third couch cushion
Crumpled at the bottom of a shopping cart
Reflecting from the mud puddle down
By the old, white country church’s cemetery.
Don’t be so scared of not living an epic
Remember this moment… this very moment
With the sun shining, and the scent of the wind
Fresh in the air… in your very mind and soul
Beckoning your smile to come out and play.
Don’t focus so much on the ugliness of life
Because you miss too much of the beautiful
Already… when you’re not looking, that is.
And there is so much beauty in things-- in everything
In everything.
April 19, 2007
Mhmm
I have been waiting to post this. I wrote it for a creative non-fiction contest that my school sponsors, and I have been waiting to see if it won or not, so that I don't post something that is copyrighted in another publication. I did not win (I came in 3rd place), so I thought I would share it with the people who read this blog-- if anyone (aside from Bob, my dad, and the Ryans). Here it is-- after much revision. Special thanks for Prof. Teddy Norris for editing and proof reading.
______________________________________________
People will tell cutters all of the psychological things that go on when they try to destroy themselves-- self-mutilation, they call it. I call it destruction by choice-- destruction by something as slick and beautiful as a razor blade. It releases a rush of endorphins, thus providing a sort of "high" without taking any real drugs. This is the scientific explanation of self-destruction. The addiction is often reduced to nothing more than chemistry in the brain and certain events from one’s past that flipped a switch in their mind, turning off the lights on their way out of the room.
I would argue though, that self-harm has little to do with the physical body at all. The high is not just endorphins; it is feeling—any feeling—which truly captivates the individual. That’s all it takes, really—sensation. I often found myself in a strange, thick atmosphere, in which I was hardly lucid. It wasn’t even that I was hurting— I just couldn’t feel. It is common for anyone who is depressed to be so emotionally damaged that he or she becomes numb. It’s a coping mechanism, like two year-olds plugging their ears when they don’t want to listen, or an ostrich sticking its head in the sand. But self-destruction is far beyond little metaphors. For the most part, self-destructors are suffocating in the dark room, and they have just stubbed their toe for the fifth time. But, if they see a small, shining stripe of blood on their arm, the sting of the wound is the best and most intense feeling they can conjure. When you’re that numb, I swear it’s better than falling in love.
It always surprises me when I tell others about this struggle of mine. "Struggle"… what a religious word! I say it out of habit because I was raised in a religious household, and am very religious myself. But, the connotations of the word "struggle" are very applicable to the mindset of a cutter. In a religious sense, the word "struggle" often denotes a person fighting against something they have no true desire for.
It is easy for a person to fight against something they never really wanted to begin with, but I wanted to cut. I wanted desperately to leave no perfect spot of flesh on my body. In the New Testament, The Apostle Paul wrote, "…our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12). I struggled with both flesh and blood, but I also struggled against this addiction of the body that had great authority over my life. I struggled in the darkness of this world and the darkness of my mind after the switch was flipped.
In my experience, it is rare for a non-cutter to focus on or even recognize the brutality of self-destruction. Most people usually want to focus on the origin of it. If they are initially shocked by the fact that I ever participated in self-destruction, they are even more shocked when I cannot give a definitive answer as to why I gave up my entire high school career to multiple forms of it. I cannot give a specific situation or tragedy from my past that led me into depression, I know only that I have dealt with it. I also know that I can pinpoint the exact moment when it all began.
I remember I was standing outside my house in Farmington, Missouri. Because Farmington is mostly suburban, there is very little "city noise." It is a place where falling snow is heard in winter. That night, it was snowing. Like many self-destructive individuals, I had reached a point socially where I couldn’t stand to be around people. There were days when the sound of someone’s voice would send me into a frenzy of unchanneled rage and incredibly irrational thinking that would become belief for me. It was that particular night (while the sound of each snowflake pounded repetitiously in my head as it hit the ground) that I made the decision-- I hated myself.
Amid all this business of self-hatred, social awkwardness, and self-destruction, my biggest struggle-- the real bane of my existence-- was (and often still is) found in a little, belligerent thing called ED-NOS: "Eating Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified." ED-NOS is a category of eating disorders that encompasses anyone who has disordered eating habits but is not underweight (a defining symptom of anorexia nervosa) or participating in all of the facets of bulimia. It is a hodge-podge of all eating disorders. In my life, however, ED-NOS has not just been a condition, it has been an entity— nearly a monster.
I couldn’t have been anorexic, because I actually was "fat." I was 248 pounds, as I recall. I also obviously wasn’t bulimic, because I never intentionally made myself throw up. I was, however, massive. At only five feet and five inches of height, I was lumbering. I hated my body. I struggled with it. I fought against it, because I had no desire for it. I also didn’t eat more than 400 calories a day. I exercised for no less than three hours per day, and I was never happy with myself. Even after losing 70-80 pounds the summer before my junior year, I still wasn’t good enough.
ED-NOS was the monster that lurked in the closet of the dark room in my mind. It was by far my most beloved obsession. Often, ED-NOS was the one thing in a wide-open room that I would stumble over. I was Franz Kafka’s "Hunger Artist," making a grand spectacle of myself because of what I knew I could not be. The things average people valued could never fulfill me. ED-NOS provided me with a purpose—it made me feel accomplished. This made ED-NOS the hardest facet of self-destruction to give up.
It is easy for me to ramble about cutting or ED-NOS, because those were the thorns in my side. They were not my real heart-issue, though. Self-destruction is the most common heart-issue. It creeps into everyone’s lives. It is often found in grand masquerades, or in something as subtle as a teardrop. Self-destruction is not habitual action; it is a lack of habitual accountability. After training your mind into self-destruct sequence, one must train it back to a normal way of coping-- just as one would have to train a dog to sleep in a doghouse or relieve itself outside.
It is common for people to ask me if I ever had any sort of counseling for my habits of self-destruction. "No, I’m not crazy" I tell them, not because one must be clinically insane to participate in therapy, but because I am not crazy. I am recovering. If hating your body, or wanting to be someone else makes you crazy, I don’t think there is one sane person in the world. But, self-destruction magnifies our criticisms of ourselves-- it draws them out of us, sometimes metaphorically, and sometimes in the form of short, deep, and quick cuts.
Many people need counseling to deal with the sorrowful tunes played out in their life, and someday, I could find myself there, too. In a way, I seek counsel everyday. I talk with those who have been recovering much longer than I. I pray. I journal. I smile. I trudge through the hard days. I choose to feel. It is enough. It is enough to be reassured that I am not any less sane than those around me. It is enough to no longer hate myself each moment. It is more than enough to know that self-destruction does not loom in every corner of my dark mind. It is not in my power to self-destruct, and for this I am glad. Instead, I choose to strive for self-reconstruction.
______________________________________________
"Flesh and Blood"
Most of the people I know tend to make their cuts short, deep, and quick. They say it adds to the effect. It maximizes their available space. Mine were never short or quick. Mine were long, thin, and sometimes even decorative-- if a long, thin gash on the arm can even be considered "decorative." I’d slide the blade across my skin, just like the blades of ice-skates, carving slick grooves into a freshly Zamboni-cleared rink. In my mind, this was something that was supposed to happen. The slate was not supposed to be left clean.
People will tell cutters all of the psychological things that go on when they try to destroy themselves-- self-mutilation, they call it. I call it destruction by choice-- destruction by something as slick and beautiful as a razor blade. It releases a rush of endorphins, thus providing a sort of "high" without taking any real drugs. This is the scientific explanation of self-destruction. The addiction is often reduced to nothing more than chemistry in the brain and certain events from one’s past that flipped a switch in their mind, turning off the lights on their way out of the room.
I would argue though, that self-harm has little to do with the physical body at all. The high is not just endorphins; it is feeling—any feeling—which truly captivates the individual. That’s all it takes, really—sensation. I often found myself in a strange, thick atmosphere, in which I was hardly lucid. It wasn’t even that I was hurting— I just couldn’t feel. It is common for anyone who is depressed to be so emotionally damaged that he or she becomes numb. It’s a coping mechanism, like two year-olds plugging their ears when they don’t want to listen, or an ostrich sticking its head in the sand. But self-destruction is far beyond little metaphors. For the most part, self-destructors are suffocating in the dark room, and they have just stubbed their toe for the fifth time. But, if they see a small, shining stripe of blood on their arm, the sting of the wound is the best and most intense feeling they can conjure. When you’re that numb, I swear it’s better than falling in love.
It always surprises me when I tell others about this struggle of mine. "Struggle"… what a religious word! I say it out of habit because I was raised in a religious household, and am very religious myself. But, the connotations of the word "struggle" are very applicable to the mindset of a cutter. In a religious sense, the word "struggle" often denotes a person fighting against something they have no true desire for.
It is easy for a person to fight against something they never really wanted to begin with, but I wanted to cut. I wanted desperately to leave no perfect spot of flesh on my body. In the New Testament, The Apostle Paul wrote, "…our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" (Ephesians 6:12). I struggled with both flesh and blood, but I also struggled against this addiction of the body that had great authority over my life. I struggled in the darkness of this world and the darkness of my mind after the switch was flipped.
In my experience, it is rare for a non-cutter to focus on or even recognize the brutality of self-destruction. Most people usually want to focus on the origin of it. If they are initially shocked by the fact that I ever participated in self-destruction, they are even more shocked when I cannot give a definitive answer as to why I gave up my entire high school career to multiple forms of it. I cannot give a specific situation or tragedy from my past that led me into depression, I know only that I have dealt with it. I also know that I can pinpoint the exact moment when it all began.
I remember I was standing outside my house in Farmington, Missouri. Because Farmington is mostly suburban, there is very little "city noise." It is a place where falling snow is heard in winter. That night, it was snowing. Like many self-destructive individuals, I had reached a point socially where I couldn’t stand to be around people. There were days when the sound of someone’s voice would send me into a frenzy of unchanneled rage and incredibly irrational thinking that would become belief for me. It was that particular night (while the sound of each snowflake pounded repetitiously in my head as it hit the ground) that I made the decision-- I hated myself.
Amid all this business of self-hatred, social awkwardness, and self-destruction, my biggest struggle-- the real bane of my existence-- was (and often still is) found in a little, belligerent thing called ED-NOS: "Eating Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified." ED-NOS is a category of eating disorders that encompasses anyone who has disordered eating habits but is not underweight (a defining symptom of anorexia nervosa) or participating in all of the facets of bulimia. It is a hodge-podge of all eating disorders. In my life, however, ED-NOS has not just been a condition, it has been an entity— nearly a monster.
I couldn’t have been anorexic, because I actually was "fat." I was 248 pounds, as I recall. I also obviously wasn’t bulimic, because I never intentionally made myself throw up. I was, however, massive. At only five feet and five inches of height, I was lumbering. I hated my body. I struggled with it. I fought against it, because I had no desire for it. I also didn’t eat more than 400 calories a day. I exercised for no less than three hours per day, and I was never happy with myself. Even after losing 70-80 pounds the summer before my junior year, I still wasn’t good enough.
ED-NOS was the monster that lurked in the closet of the dark room in my mind. It was by far my most beloved obsession. Often, ED-NOS was the one thing in a wide-open room that I would stumble over. I was Franz Kafka’s "Hunger Artist," making a grand spectacle of myself because of what I knew I could not be. The things average people valued could never fulfill me. ED-NOS provided me with a purpose—it made me feel accomplished. This made ED-NOS the hardest facet of self-destruction to give up.
It is easy for me to ramble about cutting or ED-NOS, because those were the thorns in my side. They were not my real heart-issue, though. Self-destruction is the most common heart-issue. It creeps into everyone’s lives. It is often found in grand masquerades, or in something as subtle as a teardrop. Self-destruction is not habitual action; it is a lack of habitual accountability. After training your mind into self-destruct sequence, one must train it back to a normal way of coping-- just as one would have to train a dog to sleep in a doghouse or relieve itself outside.
It is common for people to ask me if I ever had any sort of counseling for my habits of self-destruction. "No, I’m not crazy" I tell them, not because one must be clinically insane to participate in therapy, but because I am not crazy. I am recovering. If hating your body, or wanting to be someone else makes you crazy, I don’t think there is one sane person in the world. But, self-destruction magnifies our criticisms of ourselves-- it draws them out of us, sometimes metaphorically, and sometimes in the form of short, deep, and quick cuts.
Many people need counseling to deal with the sorrowful tunes played out in their life, and someday, I could find myself there, too. In a way, I seek counsel everyday. I talk with those who have been recovering much longer than I. I pray. I journal. I smile. I trudge through the hard days. I choose to feel. It is enough. It is enough to be reassured that I am not any less sane than those around me. It is enough to no longer hate myself each moment. It is more than enough to know that self-destruction does not loom in every corner of my dark mind. It is not in my power to self-destruct, and for this I am glad. Instead, I choose to strive for self-reconstruction.
April 17, 2007
UPDATE
I am currently. . .
Reading: Story of a Soul - St. Therese of Lisieux.
Watching: Numerous Hitchcock and Agatha Christie films
Craving: Something more... something different... and coffee, of course.
Learning: that love is vital... loving Him is vital.
Rejoicing: My best friend of 8 years, Abbi Saunier, is getting married. She is my hero(ine).
Trudging: Through the final projects of the semester... one 8 page paper down, two more to go. (not to mention the Creative Writing Portfolio, Irish Lit responses, World Lit responses, Detective fiction final exam &&& the final Creative Writing short story-- which I haven't even started. yaya!)
Enjoying: Color, contrast, SPRINGTIME, and beautiful things.
Trying: To flex my artistic muscles a little.
I'm not normally one for posting icons on my sites, but this one...
I just couldn't resist.
Reading: Story of a Soul - St. Therese of Lisieux.
Watching: Numerous Hitchcock and Agatha Christie films
Craving: Something more... something different... and coffee, of course.
Learning: that love is vital... loving Him is vital.
Rejoicing: My best friend of 8 years, Abbi Saunier, is getting married. She is my hero(ine).
Trudging: Through the final projects of the semester... one 8 page paper down, two more to go. (not to mention the Creative Writing Portfolio, Irish Lit responses, World Lit responses, Detective fiction final exam &&& the final Creative Writing short story-- which I haven't even started. yaya!)
Enjoying: Color, contrast, SPRINGTIME, and beautiful things.
Trying: To flex my artistic muscles a little.
I'm not normally one for posting icons on my sites, but this one...
I just couldn't resist.
April 02, 2007
Coping Mechanisms: religion's not the only one.
Many Christians place blame on authors of secular philosophy for causing the downfall of the modern Church. Nietzsche, who is considered one of modern Christianity’s most formidable philosophical foes, espoused the idea that “God is dead! God remains dead! And we have killed him!” (Nietzsche, The Gay Science). His writings have no doubt influenced modern society and culture in vast and prolific ways, still, the American Church fools itself into thinking that what Nietzsche had to say in the 1880s actually bears any weight in the Christianity of today.
Growing up in church, I always heard about the evils of secular philosophy, and how they are at fault for the Church’s lack of reverence and “Pure Religion” (see James 1:27). As I have grown, however, I see that the Church is often in a state of great complacency. Even if the world is going to Hell, it doesn’t mean that the Church must decline. On the contrary! She should do no less than to rise to the occasion and prove that religion is no more a “coping mechanism” than secular philosophy. She must turn around the argument.
Even if the supernatural and the religious only existed simply because religious individuals subconsciously think that there is a need for it, or that it will give them comfort when facing the fears of death and eternity, I would argue that the atheistic and the anti-religious exists for the exact same reason. The religious may need their God, but the irreligious of the world crave godlessness, if only to justify their immorality or to make sense of their pain.
I would say that in a sense, Nietzsche is no more a realist that the Romanticist writing in order to eradicate the past, tradition, and the religiously stiff, but just as the Romantic period sought to break away from the Enlightenment, so the Realist Movement sought to break free of the tenants of the Romantic Era. Nietzsche aimed in all his work to provide a new meaning for human existence in a meaningless world. In the absence of any transcendent sanction, men must create their own values. Nietzsche's writings are either analyses and criticisms of the old system of values or attempts to formulate a new system” (Gale Literary Index).
By reading the selection of Nietzsche assigned by my Western Literature professor, I have come to recognize that the ideals of one man cannot be at fault for the complacency of an entire institution which he was not even connected to. I have also recognized the fact that Nietzsche was only doing what countless other writers have done-- pressed forward in a social reform which conveys very little logic, and even less benefit for the world.
Growing up in church, I always heard about the evils of secular philosophy, and how they are at fault for the Church’s lack of reverence and “Pure Religion” (see James 1:27). As I have grown, however, I see that the Church is often in a state of great complacency. Even if the world is going to Hell, it doesn’t mean that the Church must decline. On the contrary! She should do no less than to rise to the occasion and prove that religion is no more a “coping mechanism” than secular philosophy. She must turn around the argument.
Even if the supernatural and the religious only existed simply because religious individuals subconsciously think that there is a need for it, or that it will give them comfort when facing the fears of death and eternity, I would argue that the atheistic and the anti-religious exists for the exact same reason. The religious may need their God, but the irreligious of the world crave godlessness, if only to justify their immorality or to make sense of their pain.
I would say that in a sense, Nietzsche is no more a realist that the Romanticist writing in order to eradicate the past, tradition, and the religiously stiff, but just as the Romantic period sought to break away from the Enlightenment, so the Realist Movement sought to break free of the tenants of the Romantic Era. Nietzsche aimed in all his work to provide a new meaning for human existence in a meaningless world. In the absence of any transcendent sanction, men must create their own values. Nietzsche's writings are either analyses and criticisms of the old system of values or attempts to formulate a new system” (Gale Literary Index).
By reading the selection of Nietzsche assigned by my Western Literature professor, I have come to recognize that the ideals of one man cannot be at fault for the complacency of an entire institution which he was not even connected to. I have also recognized the fact that Nietzsche was only doing what countless other writers have done-- pressed forward in a social reform which conveys very little logic, and even less benefit for the world.
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