Only See

This is the closest thing to satire I have ever written. (Written on October 18, 2007)



I see them hurting.
And I can tell you all about their pain.
I watch their tears in storms like rain.
I see them crying
But from inside my bubble
There's just enough distance to save me from trouble.
I see them begging.
Though I don't want to hear
So to keep from feeling, I won't go near.
I see them bleeding.
It must be contagious.
Reaching out to touch would be outrageous.
I see them needing
With desperate hearts open wide.
Yet I cannot help in all my pride.
But I see them hurting.

One Word that Cripples Christianity

So many words come in and out of the English language. Some fad words are good, others are bad, and still others begin well but acquire negative connotations after they have been used regularly. This latter type can be dangerous, not from the start, but after being merged with our vocabulary and slowly eased way into everyday language before we realize the negative psychological effect. By then, we have the slightest clue how our words, thoughts and actions became what they are.

One of these words has become increasingly common. AWKWARD. I was first introduced to this word by a group of friends through a joke. It was funny, and even had a catchy little hand gesture. I didn't hear it any more, however, until I lived with a couple of girls in Charlotte, who used it very often. That summer was when the pithy joke became a debate within myself of whether or not I wanted to add the word "awkward" to my own language.

Since then, through circumstances, observations, and scripture, I have personally been convicted about the uses of this word. I do not claim to have it all figured out, but I know what I know and this I will share.

Recently, someone told me that they would rather another person not show up to an event because it would be "awkward." I felt a knife penetrate my heart with those words. I don't want to only speak out to that someone, but to all of us who are tempted by similar tendencies. What have modern Christians become that we intentionally shut out opportunities to share time with others because of our selfish attachment to comfortable situations? And have we become so self-absorbed that we develop preconceived notions before entering even mundane circumstances, merely by telling ourselves it might be "awkward?"

Surely, as the beaten, robbed, and abandoned man lay on the side of the road in Luke 10, both the priest and the Levite passed by thinking to themselves that it might seem "awkward" to be seen helping him. Yet, it must not have even crossed the mind of the Good Samaritan's that bandaging a stranger's wounds, putting the man on the Samaritan's own donkey, and staying in an inn to nurse him back to health with not so much as a proper introduction to the man he was helping could ever be an "awkward" situation. And had he thought such a thing, it is doubtful that he said a word about it in respect for the hurting one.

What if the mother of the precious Savior and Redeemer of the world had refused the bear a holy child in such an "awkward" situation? What if marrying Mary had seemed far too "awkward" to Joseph? What if scorn by the world had been so "awkward" for Jesus Christ that he refused to have mercy on the people who were scoffing him and would be mocking him through the decades until the time we now live in?

And now, do we shut others out of our lives merely because we are afraid they will make the rest of us uncomfortable?

Situations ARE awkward. Media makes their living off of comedic awkward irony. Not to say that it is wrong to watch such shows or read such commentary, but who are we to brush off those real-life situations as a weird happenstance, when the truth is that God Almighty could see them as priceless opportunities? The word "awkward" is not the problem, but the attitude that has been associated with it is crippling Christianity itself. We have backed down, backed away, and backed off because society says some circumstances may be harder to deal with than others and we aren't confident that we are ready to deal with them at all. To be desensitized so intensely that it decreases how many people we are able to reach as Believers is the saddest idea of all humanity.

In Christ Alone

During the Romans Bible Study I've been leading, I have learned so much about the Christian life in general. The purpose of Christ and His purpose for us becomes so clear within the chapters of that book. It has also enhanced my worship, because, now, all the songs make more sense than ever before. Here is one that simply takes my breath away no matter how many times I hear it. These lyrics are the message of the gospel and the hope within us who have Jesus. Nothing else keeps me standing but Christ's strength. Nothing else keeps me bowing but His righteousness. Nothing else keeps me dancing but His hope, nothing else keeps me singing but His grace and mercy. Nothing else keeps me living but His conquering of death.





In Christ alone my hope is found.
He is my light, my strength, my song.
This Cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love! What depths of peace!
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All,
Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, who took on flesh--
Fullness of God in helpless babe.
This gift of love and righteousness,
Scorned by the ones He came to save.
'Till on that cross, as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied.
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,
Light of the world by darkness slain.
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again.
And as He stands in VICTORY
Sin's curse has lost it's grip on me
For I am His and He is mine,
Brought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death--
This is the power of Christ in me.
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'Till He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.
(Stuart Townend)

Tainted Love

"If this is giving up then I'm giving up on love. I'm not up for being a victim of love." (Anna Nalick)

These words were my day-to-day motto a few short months ago. I'm still struggling to push through that mindset.

So many males have changed their minds about loving me. They either loved me and then stopped, or told me that they loved me and disproved their own claim with contradicting actions. The only faithful and constant men in my life have been my earthly father and my heavenly Father. Yes, I'm a daddy's girl. I would trust Gary Yost with my life and everything in it. I go to him for admiration, affirmation, and advice. I know he would do anything for me. He tells me so. And I love my Lord so much that it hurts sometimes. I would do anything for Him. I'm overwhelmed with wanting to please Him. My entire life is His.



This sets a high standard for the guys in my life, because whoever God has planned for me to spend the rest of my life partnered with will have to love my Jesus just as much as I do. This can put up some borders for relationships.

I asked one of my close friends for advice about a guy the other day. That confidant basically said that I love Jesus too much and that He was getting in the way of my dating life.

At first, I was too shocked to respond. Then, I was hugely offended, mad, disappointed, and above all sad.

"LOVE YOU TOO MUCH!?" I screamed to Christ in the car on the way home. I was livid and affronted. What kind of tainted views does my friend have?! Jesus Christ could easily have come to earth and kicked back like a lazy bum and let me never experience peace or salvation or freedom or real life, but instead He looked at my confused drama and said, let me help. So He DIED for me. DIED. Death and all that went along with it -- pain, suffering, bleeding, sweating, yelling, suffocating, with nails, a cross, and a death march up Golgotha. For ME! And you think I love HIM too much!? I'm still living! Even martyrdom could not express the love between my Redeemer and me. He loves me way too much. I wouldn't even love myself that much. In Malachi 1:2, God said "I love you" and He meant it. I said "Really? How?"And He showed me. And whenever I stoop so low to think maybe He'll be just like the rest and stop loving me, he says "I the Lord do not change." (Malachi 3:6) And I love Him even more for it. So if loving Jesus too much "gets in the way of my dating life," let it be so -- amen?

Give me one example of what someone can do to love God too much? Seriously? What beats death? Oh wait.... Jesus did that too.

Grass

Let's lie in the grass
And let the bugs
And the dirt
And the sun
Have their way with our skin
As we pretend to doze
On the wavy green sea, glowing in the daylight
Like my heart, glistening beneath your words.
Away from here, when the grass isn't tickling my toes
I question your sincerity,
But somehow, the beating sun,
The biting creatures
The sticking blades
Make you softer.
The silence makes you louder.
The open space makes you closer.
And the daylight makes you more obscure.
I want to hear you
Feel you
Understand you.
But not now.
Now, let's just lie in the grass.

(My poetry, 10-14-07)

To Whomever May Interpret

Though I sleep very soundly, I rarely remember my dreams. However, I woke one morning with this dream still running through my mind.


I don't know what city I was in, but I know that it wasn't my hometown. I was in a large building, that seemed much like a church, when someone yelled "FIRE." I dreamed that I could see flames at the edges of my peripheral vision, but I wasn't afraid, only compelled to act. Suddenly, all the older adults brought children to me, then they exited the building. The children were different shapes and sizes, but all of them were black and around a year old. I had one in each arm, and several more nestled around me. Their clothes were tarnished in soot and ashes, ripped and hanging from them, but they weren't crying. Still, I could see fear and hurt in their eyes. Yet more than their fear, I saw their trust in me, or anyone not so powerless as they. I had previous knowledge that their parents had died in the fire and no one else wanted to be in this place with them. Somehow, I wound up in the center of the building, still burdened by the weight of several children in my arms and around my feet. The building wasn't burning down completely, only burning indefinitely. I oddly felt urgency amidst the sanctuary, but the urgency had changed from one of protection of the endangered and helpless, but the urgency to show others. It was an auditorium full of middle-aged white people and their nicely-dressed white children. I stood motionless and speechless in front of the crowd, as if the mere spectacle of myself and my orphans would bring change in their minds.

I have tried to interpret this since that night. I have come to several conclusions. Some make me cringe. Others make my heart hope for the future God has prepared for me. I am open to other interpretations. Please share.

"Here's To the You That I Thought Was Me"

In the beginning of my junior year of highschool, I fell in love. It was real. Yet, within the next two years, nothing became of it.

My heart broke.

In last season's finale of Grey’s Anatomy, Christina was left at the altar on her wedding day. Later as she was ripping away her elegant wedding dress, she said something to the effect of "He’s gone! I’m free!" through tears and laughter. My fellow Grey’s Anatomy fans told me how confused they were by this contradiction. Christina loved Burke. How could she be happy that he was gone?

But I immediately understood.

I had been so in love with the aforementioned person that I would do anything possible for him, and more. My life was about being what he wanted and what I was sure that I wanted. I rescheduled my life’s agenda to fit his.

When those are the only facts that someone knows about our relationship – that I changed who I was for him – I’m sure they think I’m weak and shallow.

That is not true. In some ways, I was stronger and more stubborn then than I am now. At the start of my junior year, it wasn’t a "melt at his touch" or "succumb to his every demand" type of relationship. However, by the end of that summer, it was. So what happened in between? Whatever it was, it didn’t work. He never gave me the devotion I unfailingly offered to him with every thought and breath. It had been a process of total submission. And when he left, I found myself submitting to a vacuum. I was still morally the same person that I had been before, in actions anyway, except I had emptied myself of myself. Instead of filling the void with Christ, I had filled it with another one of Christ’s children... and a strayed one at that. What was it that kept drawing me so close to him even though he wasn’t moving at all?

I heard these lyrics by Casting Crowns, and my question was answered:

It’s a slow fade
When you give yourself away.
It’s a slow fade
When black and white are turned to gray.
Thoughts invade.
Choices are made.
A price will be paid
When you give yourself away.
People never crumble in a day.

I had slowly let him invade my thoughts and dominate my choices. Then the price I paid was a broken heart. And after I crumbled, it was a "slow fade" back into Jesus’ arms, as well -- so slow that I didn’t realized I wasn’t ruled by that person until I heard from him last week. Christina’s words came back, but this time I heard them in my own voice... through tears and laughter– "He’s gone. I’m free." And I discovered that a love even more real had gained victory over the vacuum of my heart.