Attack of the Theologians

A friend on Facebook posted this little ditty on Joyce Meyer and I, of course, shared it on my own page and then thought... Hmph. Let's blog this one.

I'm not a huge Joyce Meyer fan. I don't have anything against her, she's just not really my type. I'm more of a Beth Moore person. For as often as I say it like I see it, I like the Truth fed to me in gentle spoonfuls, and Joyce isn't really gentle. I also see Beth Moore as more of a Bible teacher, and Joyce Meyer as a pep-talk-giver. It's just a matter of preference. And, yes, I realize how ironic it is that I'm saying this. I fight a regular battle against my own snarky personality, and yet I can't stand it when snark is preached from a stage.

I've been a Christian for 20 years. I've spoken in churches, published a book, worked with well-known believers, and have reached one conclusion: it doesn't matter who you are, if you are a "public Christian," some people are going to have it in for you. Everyone thinks they have the literal translation of God's Word, but they don't. If that were the case, there would be no denominations, nor would there be a divide between Catholic and Protestant churches. (Of course, if you're Catholic... nevermind.) Someone is always going to believe you are a heretic.

Now that you've read that little prelude, let's tear this CARM article apart, shall we? I'm not going to touch on every issue because it's late and I'm too tired, but some of this has got to be responded to.

Joyce Meyer was born on June 4, 1943.  She is married, has four children, and lives outside of St. Louis, Missouri.  She runs the Joyce Meyer Ministries organization (joycemeyer.org).  When examining the site's statement of faith we are glad to see an affirmation of the Trinity, that man is a sinner, that without Jesus we can have no relationship with God, that salvation is a free gift, and eternal hell of conscious damnation.  There is a concern with the statement on "divine healing," since there are so many aberrant groups that also affirm divine healing but say Christians must claim it and people who are sick are in sin.  However, I am not aware of what Meyer's position is on this.

I've watched a lot of Joyce Meyer and I've never once gotten the impression that she is a "name-it-and-claim-it" believer. I would not be watching if I thought she was. But some people who are sick ARE so because they're in sin. EXAMPLE: drug addicts. When I say this, I DO NOT MEAN THAT GOD "GIVES" PEOPLE SICKNESS BECAUSE THEY ARE DOING DRUGS OR COMMITTING ANY OTHER TYPE OF SIN. What I mean is that actions have consequences. We either choose life in Christ, or death in the world. God gives us guidelines to live by because THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH.

I can think of plenty examples of someone turning down the opportunity for healing. Drug rehab. Medication. Both perfect examples of healing that must be "claimed" in order to receive it. God heals people outright all the time, with no participation necessary. Sometimes, it is offered and must be accepted.

And when you think about it, salvation itself - the ultimate healing - must be claimed. If we choose not to accept Christ as our Savior, we are rejecting that healing.

The Joyce Meyer Ministry takes in a great deal of money.  She travels in a private jet and has several multimillion dollar homes. 

"While Meyer's previous salary is unknown, a recent series of investigative articles in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch revealed Meyer's ministry purchased for Joyce and Dave a $2 million home, a $10 million private jet, and houses worth another $2 million for the couple's children, who also work for the ministry. The articles also outlined Meyer's recent personal purchases, including a $500,000 vacation home. Meyer, 60, lives in Fenton, Missouri, near St. Louis." (1/1/2004, http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2004/januaryweb-only/1-19-13.0.html)

 I don't know that much about CARM. But I can't help but think they tanked their own credibility by mentioning Joyce Meyer's private jet before even getting to the biblical stuff they disagree with. Would it matter if Joyce Meyer drove a Geo Metro or had her own spaceship? This is completely irrelevant.

Having a lot or a little money is neither good nor bad.  If she has earned it all fairly through her work, fine.  Nevertheless, this article will focus on her teaching, not on her finances.  Let's take a look at scripture, then Joyce Meyer's teachings.

Having a lot or a little money is neither good nor bad... and yet it was pointed out pretty early on in the piece.

If the Bible says that even Paul was checked by scripture, and that we are not to exceed scripture's teaching, then aren't we obligated to judge what Mrs. Meyer says against the word of God?  Of course we are.  It is not enough to just believe what she says, no matter how good the words are or how well she presents them.  Let's not be taken in by a public figure who is confident, assertive, and appears to be biblical.  Our duties as Christians include biblical discernment - which can only be done by examining what she says and comparing it with scripture.

Fair enough. Can't argue with that. Same goes for everyone who teaches the Word.

1. Jesus was born again:  "The minute that blood sacrifice was accepted Jesus was the first human being that was ever born again," (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=neKsa_74w7k&feature=related) 

   A. Response:  This is just plain wrong.  Being born again means to be saved from the wrath of God for a person's sins (Eph. 2:1-3), to have a new birth (John 3:3), and to be regenerated (2 Cor. 5:17).  Mrs. Meyer is simply wrong biblically.  Why does she teach this?  It can only be because she has bought into many of the errors of the Positive Confession movement where it is sometimes said that Jesus lost his divine nature, went to hell, finished the atonement in hell, and was born again!  This is a serious error since it implies that Jesus needed to be changed...

Wait, wait, wait a minute, Matt Slick. Basically, what YOU are saying is:
a) Christ's death on the cross was NOT God's wrath for the sin of man. In which case... it was completely unnecessary in the first place.
b) I realize that the term "born-again" refers to a rebirth of the spirit, but here the author is splitting hairs. I never sat down with Joyce Meyer and asked her what she meant here, but I think we should at least CONSIDER the possibility that she meant Jesus went from being condemned to death for the sins of man, to being seated at the right hand of God.

 As far as Jesus descending into Hell... I don't know that I believe that, either. However, a lot of people also believe that the Rapture is biblical, but it is actually a concept creature by a preacher during the 1800s. This doesn't make people total heretics, it's makes them misinformed. This is where it gets fishy for me. I'll let you read and decide for yourself.

But - pardon the pun - I'm going to play devil's advocate here, too. We know Hell is a "lake of fire." But what makes it even more terrifying? THE ABSENCE OF GOD. The Bible says Christ paid the price for our sins on the cross... but doesn't say He DIDN'T descend into Hell. And when the Son of God cries out, My God! My God! Why have you forsaken me?"... it makes you wonder.


There is also a rather obscure verse in the New Testament (can't remember it right now) that refers to Christ preaching to the spirits in prison after He died on the cross.


My brain is fried for now. More later, maybe.

Pin It

Tasty, Tasty Me

Before I tell you my story, let me just say Happy Memorial Day. THANK YOU to everyone who serves or has served in our military (especially you, Joshy.) 

Somewhere in Berks County, Pa., there is a swarm of insects that got that way after feeding on me Saturday night. We went to our friends' house for a cookout and as we sat around the fire pit later that night, I turned into a buffet for the little buggers. My syrupy sweet blood must have been like a big gulp of Kool-Aid for them. A couple of hours later, I was C.O.V.E.R.E.D in bites that eventually turned into welts. Arms, legs, neck...they even got my elbow and one of my knuckles. My husband counted 17, and those were only the ones that were visible from where he was standing. I spent Sunday greased like a Thanksgiving turkey in Benadryl cream, and I took Benadryl orally, which knocked me out for the day. It didn't really help. Sunday night I was achy and restless.

I covered a Memorial Day service for the paper this morning and it was ridiculously hot, so the heat and the sweating irritated the bites even more. Long story short, some of the bites got infected and I wound up making an emergency visit to the doctor after the ceremony.

I assumed I was consumed (hey...that's rhymes...) by mosquitoes, but the doctor stared at me for a good, long time and said, "Hmph. I think these might be spider bites. Or ticks. Probably some are mosquito bites. I don't know."

Then he said, "I don't think you have West Nile Virus...but if you start feeling sick or run a fever, you need to get to the ER right away."

WEST NILE VIRUS?!?!?!?!?

Shoot, man! I just wanted to avoid an infection! I didn't think about West Nile! Oh snap.

He said he couldn't figure out why I was having such a major reaction to the bites - "Maybe it's because of who the bugs bit before they bit you." That was super comforting, too. Hopefully they didn't feed on a leper or something before they got to me. Can you spread leprosy through bugs? I don't know. I've never needed to know.

Keeping with the tradition of only learning things the hard way, I now know I can only enjoy a summer bonfire while wearing a snowsuit. Heat stroke or West Nile, those are my options.

"Diabetic? JACKPOT!!!!"

Pin It

Check Before You Fawn

Bobby Ross over at GetReligion has some interesting comments on this story about one of my favorite subjects - Christians trying to find their designated 'spot' among their fellow churchgoers.

As a married-but-childless woman in her 30's, I tend to gravitate towards the older crowd and single people. The reasons, I think, are obvious - they don't have to find a babysitter in order to make plans, and I don't have to listen to pregnancy/childbirth/parenting stories that I'm not only unable to relate to, but remind me time and time again that my dream of motherhood has not come to pass.

The Rev. Kevin Cosby, pastor of St. Stephen Church, said his congregation is trying to create a culture in which “you’re not abnormal if you’re single.”

“One is a whole number,” he said. “You’re not a fraction.”

Hopefully Rev. Cosby is also working on normalizing childlessness in the church because infertiles like myself are awfully tired of being told to work in the nursery. We appreciate sympathy, but get annoyed when moms assume we have all the free time in the world to play with. In fact, all pastors everywhere should preach a sermon aimed at teaching their congregations that:

-Not all childless women are childless on purpose.

-Some women don't want kids at all - and you can feel however you want about that and back it up with Scripture, but the point is, you should never assume anything.

-When a woman says she can't have children, sympathy is great. Immediately acting like the world has ended isn't a good approach. You mean well, but you might be grinding salt into an open wound.

-Don't suggest to an infertile woman that she should volunteer in the nursery. See above.

-Childless women don't have all the spare time in the world. Well, maybe some. But most of us have learned to fill in the time.

-Many infertile women have accepted that it is God's will for their lives and are OK WITH IT. Check before you fawn.

-Hey, since churches have singles groups, why not have a group for people without kids? Just a group - not a SUPPORT group, or a SYMPATHY group, or a GRIEF group... just a regular group.

Next up... how about we make people with mental illness feel like a part of the church body while we're at it? Stay tuned.

Pin It

No, seriously. I'm a revolutionary.

It's hard knowing which bandwagon I want to jump on. So many Jesus worshipers, so many opinions, so little time...so little patience. Everyone is a revolutionary in their own mind. In the end, we all wind up being smudged portraits of Christ.

I have a friend who doesn't believe in evangelizing, per-se. She believes one should share their faith only by their actions. There isn't any real need to come out and say, "Let me tell you about Jesus." It's about stained-glass windows and reciting incantations and creeds. Tradition. Delicate beauty. Hymns that say more than Stellar Kart could ever dream of. But that's not for me. Anyone can follow a tradition. I know lots of tradition followers who sit behind stained glass windows, but they don't exude God's love. I'm a breed of Mormon, Episcopalian, and Catholic. Trust me here.

I have a friend - actually, many friends - who believe that God still performs miracles today, that we should embrace and explore all art forms as types of worship, and when they talk about the Holy Spirit, I picture candy cotton clouds and unicorns prancing through gumdrop rainstorms.
Incidentally... this is one bandwagon I really do like the idea of riding. It's OK to cry around these people. I like churches that let you cry, even though I'm not terribly in-touch with my own feelings right at this moment. They're the people the Nightly News makes fun of - hands in the air, kids waving flags, people yelling "AMEN!"

I know a guy who is completely religion-free... supposedly. I don't think anyone is religion-free. We're all asking each other to conform. Telling the more buttoned-up believers to be more free isn't any different than telling them to conform. It's still conformity, in a round-about way. There is no church building, no authority, no hierarchy for these Christians... they're kind of like hippies that are high on Jesus instead of LSD. But I think they're off-base, too. They're big on moral relativism and I don't get the impression that anyone is accountable to anyone else. That's not good, either.
And yet... I wouldn't mind living that way myself sometimes.

(Excuse me. I've had a lot of coffee today. I have a point. Really. I'm almost sure of it.)

But all of these groups have one thing in common: they wouldn't ever want to be like any of the other groups. They're predictable. Watch.

Group One: "Shoving the Bible down somebody's throat is not the way to lead them to God...which is why I never talk about my faith unless someone spots me pulling out of the church parking lot and directly asks me about it."

"Excuse YOU, but people know me by my LOVE."

Group Two: "Group one is too concerned with religion. They need more of a relationship with Jesus. That would make them WANT to talk about their faith. If you don't wear your faith on your sleeve, where DO you wear it?" (Group Two's favorite method of "hearing from God" is to point to a random scripture and "claim" it as their "word" for the day.)

"SHE'S HEALED!!!"
"What? Ouch! I tripped over Burt's foot!"

Group Three: "How can you live an abundant life with so many rules and regulations? Fellowship is everywhere. Authority is for Presbyterians. Look, I painted you a picture of the Grateful Dead Bears! Would you mind handing me my Baja pancho?"

The family that prays together stays together...but not because some pastor says so.

OK, maybe this isn't entirely accurate. That's the picture from where I sit. Where do I fit? I'm in Group Two, but I'd like to ride a unicorn and I think some tradition is beautiful. I'm a church octopus - my body is in Two, but I have tentacles in One and Three.

Jesus, I'm guessing, is in all of these. Or none of them. When I want a truly authentic portrait of Jesus, I read the Bible, but guess what happens? Everything I've ever been taught by anyone of faith clouds the picture. Don't you wish you could wipe all of that out of the picture and separate the wheat from the chaff? The Bible tells us to "test the spirits." Spiritual maturity helps us pick out the weeds and water the beautiful things. Those dandelions, though - they just keep coming back, proving that sometimes things look pretty, but they're dangerous weeds that want to choke you.

 Tell me I'm not the only one?!?

Pin It

I'm a little behind on blogging, so in the meantime, here's a tune for ya.
I've had this in my head ever since we sang it in Celebrate Recovery on Friday. Love this.

Pin It

Mommy's Little Booger

My Cat is Freakin' Awesome Because:

-She uses 2 litter boxes. One is for pee, one is for...the other thing. It would figure that I have an OCD cat.
-She watches TV and has an affinity for Animal Planet.
-She will only sleep on my side of the bed.
-She shares string cheese with me.
-She showed up on my doorstep as a kitten and obviously has impeccable taste.
-She always smells good. Somehow. I don't know how she does it.
-We have conversations and I understand what she's saying...and it's not because I'm bipolar, either.
-She's afraid of children. It's hilarious.
-She eats houseflies.

I'm pretty sure I love this cat more than I should.
-Help.
-Me.

Pin It

Yes, Please!

Found this website on Pinterest today. My shirt is soaked with drool!

Pin It

All Over Again

Happy birthday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I'm 33 today. I don't really feel any different, but then again I never do. Turning 30 sort of felt like a milestone, but it didn't bother me. In my heart of hearts I'm at least 10 years younger than I really am.

Yesterday marked the 20th anniversary of my salvation. OK, that sentence looks weird. Rephrase: I've been a Christian for 20 years. I remember everything about the day I asked Jesus into my heart. Twenty years of faith is a far bigger milestone than turning 30, if you ask me. I'm pretty psyched about it, but you know what? I miss my cousin, Jay. That's what I kept thinking yesterday. For those of you that don't know the back story, Jay and his wife were very instrumental in leading me to Christ. Jay also suffered from bipolar disorder. In September 2009, he died of ALS, or Lou Gehrig's Disease, after a 5-year battle. I miss him every day, but I especially missed him yesterday. I wish we could still email back and forth and talk live, faith, and BPD. 

A few weeks ago, someone very close to me told me that the older she gets, the more afraid she becomes, and that someday I would understand her fear. I told myself no way - my faith will always keep me from being crippled with fear the way that she is. Last night in Celebrate Recovery we talked about God's plan and how it's always a good plan, and yet... we don't really know what it is. We don't know if the way we die will be just as impacting as the way we lived, or even more so. While we're making plans for next year, God might know something we don't - that maybe our lives will end 30 seconds from now.

I remember being sort of haunted by that while Jay was sick and for a long time after he died. I could not, would not surrender my life to God because I didn't trust Him with the outcome. I didn't want to give Him something fragile, something He could drop, something that could break...

But while I was figuring out all that crap, Jay was already letting go. So eventually, I decided, if he could do it, I had to give it a shot.

Guys, I give it a new shot every day. Forgive the politically incorrect phrase, but I'm such an Indian giver. I offer myself up, take myself back, and offer myself up again. I'm getting closer and closer to that once-and-for-all. Inches away from believing that in the hands of God, the only breakable thing about me are the walls I build around myself.

Your 20th birthday is as good a time as any to give it up all over again, right?

Pin It

In This Together

I like being able to stand next to someone who has bipolar disorder and say "I understand." I hate the disease and I hate that other people have it, but I like that I can empathize. Especially when that someone is another follower of Jesus Christ. Christians don't always know how to relate to someone with a mental illness. If they did, I wouldn't be blogging right now.

It means a lot to me when I find a fellow believer who understands the need for sleep and how hard it can be to fall asleep. It means a lot when they understand that a bad mood isn't personal. It means a lot when they pray for me and with me, instead of telling me my problem isn't real and I just need a spiritual kick in the pants. God bless the Christian who understands that the brain is an organ, and sometimes organs get sick. Those are the people I try to surround myself with.

I was really glad I got to spend part of my day hearing someone else out.

Pin It

I love this. Spot on. :-)
Sorry, wouldn't let me imbed.

Pin It

I can never tell when I'm manic or depressed until I'm REALLY manic or depressed. Rarely do I know which one I am. At some point, it just occurs to me: I've been isolating myself, I'm angry, I'm paranoid, and people are tip-toeing around me. It's like walking face-first into a plate glass window. I don't know what has happened until I'm bloody.

You know, if you have a baby, or have surgery, or have a disease, you can count on people to check in on you. Church shows up with a meal. It doesn't work that way with a mental illness. People scatter like ants.

What really bothers me about being bipolar is how obvious it seems to be to other people, but not to me. I've had lots of people say they can tell I'm getting sick by reading my Facebook statuses. Today I thought about disabling my Facebook account until I got to feeling better, but decided it was too much of a hassle.

When I 'crash' it feels like I've done something wrong. It's like after 7 months of not smoking, I went out and bought a carton and chain-smoked them all. Or I looked at porn all day, or got drunk, or did drugs. It feels like a total FAILURE. You stand up in front of people and give your testimony about how God has changed your life, and then you find yourself just struggling to be normal and few people understand... and you feel like such a hypocrite.

You wonder if you're really sick or if you're just not as spiritually mature as you thought. I'd rather be sick than a spiritual lightweight.

I want everyone I know to understand that bipolar disorder is not who I am, it's something I have. I'm a child of God, healed of many things. I am totally changed from the inside out. Brain chemicals can't change what the Lord has done in my heart.

The truth is what keeps people like me from being swallowed by sadness, but it's still there. Christians are sad sometimes. Well, we FEEL sad sometimes. I guess there is a big difference.

Pin It

For almost 7 months now, I've been having an interesting health issue. I've been dealing with this thing called pulsatile tinnitus. Have you ever hung upside-down and heard the "whoosh-whoosh" of your heartbeat in your ears? That's what it is - 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I've also been lightheaded, had headaches, been forgetful, and have had constant pressure in my ears and head. I know it has been 7 months, because it started as soon as I quit smoking. How do you like that? A woman gives up one of the world's unhealthiest habits, and winds up feeling a million times worse.

I am a diabetic and a bipolar disorder sufferer, so naturally I assumed the PT was related to one or both of those things. Maybe it is. I don't know. Nobody knows. The doctors don't know. What I do know is, I don't take any Lithium at all anymore (was taking 900 mgs/day), my Seroquel dose has been cut in half, and that hasn't helped. High glucose, low glucose - it doesn't seem to matter. I just whoosh.

I went to see an ear/nose/throat doctor last week. An Otolaryngologist. After a bunch of hearing tests, ear pressure tests, looking in my ears, up my nose, and down my throat (I'm surprised he didn't make me ride a hippity-hop in a pink tutu), he told me what I'd already figured out by researching myself online: I have pulsatile tinnitus. Pulsatile tinnitus isn't a condition, it's a symptom OF a condition, he said.

Oh, and my eyes didn't want to follow his finger.
You know, the finger test. The doctor moves his finger in front of your eyes in the shape of an H, really slow. He says, "Follow my finger." I couldn't follow his finger. So now it's off to a neurologist! My health insurance company loves me.

I came home that night and made Scott do the finger test on me about a thousand times. My left eye is especially uncooperative. I started doing the finger test on myself. You can't really do a visual exam on yourself, though, try as I may. I tried to videotape myself doing the test on my phone, but all you could see was my finger moving. I'm forced to take the ENT's (and my husband's) word for it.

If I wanted to put money on it, I'd say my diabetes probably messed with my optic nerves or something like that, but there's always that little part of me that wonders if I'm walking around with a tumor, aneurysm, or some other diagnosis I can't pronounce.

Serenity now!

I've actually found a community of people online who also have PT, which is cool. Whooshers.com is where whooshers like mah-self gather to slowly go mad together from the sound of our own heartbeats. You'd think hearing your heartbeat would be a good thing. Huh. Go figure.

I'm not really scared. It is what it is. God is going to sit on His throne and be a good God regardless of what's wrong with me. But it is sooooooooooooooo frustrating trying to figure out what is going on. Even more frustrating trying to concentrate with WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH going on in your head all day.

This weekend was a good one, though. Softer whooshing, no pain, and I didn't feel the need to hold onto the wall a lot. I even went for a (very brief) swim at the rec center. I made the most of it.

Neurologist appointment is in May. I'm having an MRI and something called an MRA done in the meantime. I just have to figure out how to function while I wait on all this stuff. I'm starting this week by interviewing a couple of attorneys for a story I'm writing, so hopefully I'll be able to hear them over the sound of my own head.







 

Pin It

Happy Hump Day, peeps.
By pure accident, I got into Wilson Phillips Still Holding On and now I can't stop watching it. Did you know Chyna Phillips is a Christian? I had no idea. She's not always terribly nice to everyone, but then again... neither am I. I guess we all get to be human. 

Whenever a blogger has been MIA from the blog world for a while, she feels the need to explain her absence, whether anybody cares or not... so let me explain. We'll start with the bad and work our way to the good.

I've had some health problems lately, and that has been my main reason for not blogging. I haven't felt it - blah! Nothing terribly serious, just a lot of ear/nose/sinus issues. The past 6 months I've had pounding/whoosing/roaring in my ears 24/7, I've been lightheaded, I've had really bad headaches, and in trying to figure out my problem, my bipolar meds were in a state of upheaval more than once. (I'm now on less than half the meds I used to take, which I'm thrilled about.) I am more awake and "with it" now, which I contribute to slashing my meds in half. But I'm finally going to see an ENT this week, and I can't wait. I had a CAT scan a couple of weeks ago and it showed that I have a lot of really packed-in sinus gunk waaaaaaay back in my sinuses. It's hard to blog when all you want to do is find a crowbar so you can pop the top of your skull off and relieve the pressure. No lie - I've actually dreamed about doing that.

Now the good news - I've been going through a transformation, y'all! A MAJOR, MAJOR transformation. Things I have struggled with all my life have disappeared in less than a year's time. Through the power of prayer, the support of other understanding believers, and some seriously hard work, God has been setting me free.

I started attending a group called Celebrate Recovery in February 2011. I started actually taking it seriously this past fall. :-)  It's 12-step recovery, but it's recovery from any hurt, habit, or hang-up. Our 'higher power' is Jesus Christ. After many years of trying medication after medication, and seeing counselor after counselor, I'm starting to feel like a whole, healed person... thanks in major part to CR.

Pin It

April?

I'm messing around on my blog, Scott is watching "Thor" and I feel a bubble bath coming on. Some parts of Pennsylvania are in the middle of a snowstorm right now. We had a snowstorm in this part of the state once this year... in October. I have to admit... I could have gotten into a snow day, even if all the leaves are on the trees, my toenails are painted a sparkly color, and and all my winter clothes are put away.
I can't decide if I want a bubble bath, or a nap.

At least we have dinner figured out - soup and grilled cheese. Perfect for a cold Sunday, even if the snow ignored us again.

Pin It

Distracted?

"I'm on my way; I'll be there soon. Keep a tight grip on what you have so no one distracts you and steals your crown." -Rev. 4:11 (Msg)

 I opened the Bible on my cell phone today and did a random search. I'm a pentecostal and we're notorious for that - opening the Word of God to a random page and pointing a finger believing that God is going to give us spiritual nutrition for the day. OK, it wasn't really like that. I just didn't know what to look up so I decided to wing it. Anyway, this is what came up. Can I get a fist bump up in here? This verse was meant for me!

I'm distracted all the time. I love technology, can't get enough of it. Hubby tells me to put my phone down in restaurants. And the day I found Facebook was my last uninterrupted day of work, perhaps ever. That's not the kind of distraction, however, that poses the biggest danger to my walk with God. Lately, I've been distracted by myself. Distracted with a new writing project and where I hope it will go. Distracted with all sorts of groups and church classes designed to make me a better person. The good news is, the classes, groups, and lessons are working. The bad news is, it's just too easy to start focusing on how I'M doing, or how I'VE changed, and forget that any progress isn't about how hard I've worked or how dedicated I am, but about how the Lord has worked in me and how He has blessed me for my obedience.

The kind of distraction that God talks about isn't just Facebook and Twitter, it's all of life. Look around you. Look in. Have a messy past that you don't think you can overcome? That's a good sign that you're distracted with where you've been. Have a long, difficult road ahead of you and considering a detour? You're probably distracted by where you're headed (my own current distraction). You know that saying, "No matter where you go, there you are"? The Holiest of Holies is kinda like that. God is in your past, He's here with you today, and there isn't one thing about your future that Abba Father doesn't know.

I have the attention span of a flea with ADHD. Distracted much? Oh yeah. But Jesus is coming soon - He's on His way. I want to give the days I have here to Him - I've already thrown too many away. I'd rather be so distracted with God that when I look at a dirty and broken world, all I see at first glance is the good in other people and the places I can share His love.

Can you imagine being that 'lost' in Christ? How awesome would that be? You can't just wish it into existence. You have to be deliberate about it and be conscious of where you're focusing your attention. That's really hard for me, I don't know about you.

I know none of us is perfect, but how do you keep yourself 'in check' and your eyes on God?

Pin It

Politix

You know what makes me want to slap a puppy? This time of year. I don't mean February, winter, or the time before Dec. 21, 2012 when the apocalypse hits or - worse - cell towers go down. I mean the time of year right before an election. Ew. I hate it. Politics make me angry, and being angry makes me mean, and Christians shouldn't be mean. But, look, it's not even spring yet and I'm already talking about assaulting pets.

I don't know who I support yet. Seriously? I'm a little worried I'll never figure it out, and then where does my vote go? I've always believed that 'real Americans' vote. This time around I'm feeling more and more like a foreigner. I know who I DON'T like but I want to vote in favor of someone and not against them. (Ooooh, I think I just gave my affiliation away!) It doesn't matter to me what party a candidate belongs to - if I believe in their ideas, I'll give them my vote.... and that's exactly the problem right now.

Over time, I've arrived at the conclusion that nobody is right anyway. The left, the right, whatever - nobody knows. It's all relative. By today's standards, it's all relative and based on whose followers annoy you the most. You can look at either side and say, "Those people are morons!" You can look at any candidate and call them worse. But I think, maybe, we're all morons and worse and we just like fighting about it.

Ever wonder what the Civil War might have looked like with modern technology and social networking? Take away the physical war part and that's pretty much what you've got today. Brother against brother, father against son... brothers against sisters, if you're in my family.

I was gonna jump on the Santorum/Obama/theology thing here but then I thought about those poor droopy-eyed puppy dogs and decided to just end it here.

That's my rant. Let's all give up politics for Lent, shall we?

Pin It

What NOT to Say to Childless Women

How do I say this nicely? Lord, you know it's not going to be an easy blog post when I have to start it like that. It's really late and I have major plans for tomorrow (cleaning) so I can't go into this in too much detail, but my head will explode if I don't at least say something.

Church moms, you mean well, you really do. You want to be helpful. You want to be comforting. But sometimes you don't get it.

First, you make the mistake of assuming that infertile women are despondent over it, even though some of us have accepted our fate and are completely at peace with the fact that we will never swell up like a balloon or scream our way through childbirth. It's cool. We're good. God has other plans for us. We're super glad you were able to reproduce 7 times, but it's not going to happen for us.

Your bigger mistake, though, is assuming that childless women would LOVE to watch yours, or spend their spare time helping out with the children's ministry at church. Some of us only like kids that are biologically related to us. For example, I adore my nieces and nephews. I'm not in love with everyone else's. I don't DISLIKE kids, but I don't want to spend a lot of time with the ones that aren't related to me. Other women really ARE sad about not having kids, so what makes you think they'd like to have their sad reality shoved in their faces over and over again?

Really, women. You mean well. But you don't get it.

It's also a bad idea to imply that a childless woman has no responsibilities and all the time in the world to do grunt work that you personally don't have the time to do. Some of us work a lot. Some of us have lives. Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but I tell you the truth. We're proud of you for homeschooling. We're sorry each of your 5 kids has a sporting event on the same night. But please remember, we're not forcing you to lead the life you're leading, nor did we ask to be infertile. The idea of a nursery full of children can be absolutely heartbreaking to an infertile woman!

This is all stuff I don't think about very much until someone says the wrong thing, and it's almost always because people just don't understand. They are in a completely different phase of life where everything is about school projects, carpools, and teaching Sunday school. I can't imagine the amount of time, patience, and sleep deprivation that is required to raise a family of any size. Moms, you have my respect. I was like you once - I grew up diapering Cabbage Patch Kids, and dreaming of what I'd name my kids someday. I really wanted the hectic family lifestyle that you have.

But all I have...is a cat. A cat, and ministry, and my writing, and helping my elderly parents, and... well, trust me. I have a life. It's not what I planned, but it's what GOD gave me, and I have plenty of love in my life, believe me.

I don't want to fill in my "spare" time with other people's little children, nor do I just watch TV all day and have no responsibilities.

Let me put it this way - I totally want to help you. We're sisters in Christ. We're meant to help each other. But ya'll had to get schooled on what being a childless woman is all about. Don't assume stuff. So far, everything others have assumed about my life has been so insanely OFF. (The whole reason I'm writing this is because of someone saying something totally weird to me over the weekend.) Think, gals. Then, when you're done with that, speak. Better yet, PRAY first. A woman who can't have a child probably doesn't want to work in a room full of infants. And when you don't have kids, you find ways to spend your time. Believe it or not, there IS life outside of child-rearing.

Prayer and common sense. Prayer and common sense. C'mon, guys! We can do it! Make me proud! Stop saying dumb stuff to me, ok?

Pin It

Pinterest Eat

OH BABY, OH BABY, OH BABY! Pinned anything good lately?

Source: sugarcooking.blogspot.com via Cara on Pinterest

Pin It

Wag The Dog

I lost one of my aunts a few weeks ago. If we're being honest, I lost her a long time ago. Alzheimer's stole my aunt's sweet and chipper personality and the amazing musical talent she possessed. If you don't believe in the devil, spend some time around Alzheimer's disease. It really is an unholy illness.

Like most of my family members, my aunt lived far away and I got to see her rarely. It had been 13 years since I had seen her face, though we had always been "close" - as close as you can be from opposite ends of the country. Our relationship mostly involved pen and paper (she never really got into email.)

I was telling a good friend about the long-distance relationship. Ironically, the good friend also lives far away. She commented that most of my "close" friends are, in fact, the long-distance kind and asked if I had ever given that any thought. Stinkin' sisters in the Lord - always trying to get you to be a better person and whatnot. ::snort:: I have given it a lot of thought. It just happens to be one of those thoughts I reflect on for a split second, don't like how it makes me feel, and then push it away and think about kittens and chocolate and stuff.

If someone needs me, I'll be there. I'll pick you up at your doctor's appointment. I'll listen to your problems. I'll watch your ki... pets. I'll do anything for anyone, I just don't like having to need anyone, and I really don't like having to pour myself into a relationship that might result in that person figuring out that I'm flawed and weird and don't like to cook and have toothpaste in my sink. My husband, after 11 years, knows those things about me. Other people just suspect it because they don't get the chance to find out for themselves.


But I feel like God wants me - wants us - to be transparent and kinda daring. That's the way you have to live if you want to have a rich faith life. Do you want a walk with God? A real walk - the kind where you walk together and are heading in the same direction for the same reason? Or do you want the kind of walk my dad always had with our miniature Schnauzer, Winston - always tugging and snapping and trying to run ahead. My dad knew running out onto the highway was a bad idea, but Winston thought it was an awesome idea!

Is that what we want?

God won't heal you and make you more like Himself if you won't let Him. God doesn't force us to eat our green beans. And you can't have real faith without being daring. Being daring allows you to believe in someone you can't see, touch, or hear. It's what tells you to hold on when the world says give up. It's what gives you the backbone to tell another person ABOUT God.

I've had to take a step back and acknowledge, yes, I avoid the close relationships. I have to admit, too... God hasn't always had the red carpet treatment in my life.

I'm changing that.
Where does God fit in your life and relationships?

Pin It

A Disclaimer: It's About to Get Personal

It’s not easy to blog about your life and personal things when certain eyes are on your words and you know you’ll probably hear about it if you say this or that. I don’t care too much about appearances, but others close to me do, and appearances have to be maintained. Don’t talk about yourself too much. Keep your secrets close to your chest. Emotion is bad.  

Yes, it makes it really hard to write about your life. That’s where I come from. I don’t want to be there, but those things tend to follow you and they tend to tell you what they think whether you want to hear it or not.

It makes it hard to write about bipolar disorder, or depression, or loss, or sexual abuse or any aspect of your past. It easily turns you into a sarcastic, self-protective comedian. I never used to be that way, but I’ve become that way in the past couple of years. It shouldn’t matter, but it matters. I just can’t let it matter.

My old blog was popular. Why? Because I wrote about anything and everything, pretty passionately. That's what I do. I got a book deal out of it (and my publisher needed to make budget...) and lots of readers, but I've lost many of them because of Facebook and everyone knowing everything and I got weary of freaked-out voice-mails from my mother. I used to write and nobody knew and nobody cared, but it's not like that anymore. It's the nightmare that comes with social networking.

So, I’m going to try and go back to writing the way I used to – about stuff I care about. The things I struggle with, and how God is working in the midst of it. I won’t hang anyone else’s undies on the clothes line for all the world to see because that’s not how I roll, but if anyone is embarrassed by me airing my own laundry, or if you think I should just “get over it” and move on (whatever “it” may be), I suggest you just don’t read my blog. I already know your opinion. It has been registered. Thank you for sharing. I know you roll your eyes. It’s all good – but it won’t dissuade me. 

From now I’m going to write what I feel God is leading me to write, which means I’ll probably write a lot more.

That’s my disclaimer.

Pin It

The Badger Family & the Unthinkable

If you don't know who Madonna Badger is, or what happened at her home on Christmas morning, you must be living under a dusty rock somewhere, but to recap: her Stamford house burned down, killing her parents and her three young daughters.

Why am I blogging about this? Because I haven't been able to get it out of my mind for a solid week. This has haunted me unlike any other news story I can recall. I've read a lot about devastating fires recently. First a house in the next town over burned down a few weeks before Christmas, killing a 24-year-old woman and her parents. Her teenage sister had to jump from the second floor to safety. Over in Australia, a beloved celebrity chef named Matt Golinski lost his wife and 3 daughters on Boxing Day and suffered third-degree burns to over forty percent of his body trying to save them. 

I actually found myself getting sort of angry the other day thinking about it. I don't know who or what I was angry at, I just felt... angry. I've been through some very painful things in my life, but isn't this THE absolute nightmare of everyone, everywhere? This really dwarfs all other fears and tragedies in my mind. It's senseless. The Stamford fire, in particular, was senseless - the blaze is blamed on a bag of smoldering fireplace ashes placed at the back of the house by Badger's boyfriend.

I don't know if there's something that presents a major challenge to your faith, but logic presents a major challenge to mine and always has. A loving God who allows people to lose, literally, their entire families in one swoop. Stupid freakin' logic - it's kicking me in the butt this time! I've devoted a lot of hours to mulling this one over. I've tried to envision what these people must be going through, and how they will - I hope - eventually put one foot in front of the other and simply breathe. I have thought numerous times that I would regret not dying myself. I don't even have children of my own.

I can sit here and tell you about the peace I had when my husband almost died this summer, or the way God has been healing me from a crappy childhood, and I can give you a list of things God has done for me through rough circumstances, and there is barely a comparison. Like trying to blow bubbles into a stiff wind. Right back in your face.

It leaves me feeling naked and terrified. And all I can really do when I feel that way - here's the irony - is pray. Pray because being afraid doesn't get me anywhere, and it doesn't get the Badgers or the Golinskis or the Risslers anywhere, either. I pray because it makes no sense to me and I still hang onto that little mustard seed of faith that tells me GOD understands it, and the only thing that can help these people breath and walk and carry on is HIM.

It makes me stare directly into the face of what a relationship with Jesus is supposed to be about in the first place: making Him my everything. Everything else can disappear in an instant, but God cannot be lost. Real relationship with God means you can never lose everything.

But I'm guessing none of those people are feeling it right now, and that's the emptiness that scares me. It scares me, but it brings me to my knees.

It's a messy grace that keeps us afloat, isn't it?

Pin It