I Stand with the Muslims

As I learn about yet another racist assault on Muslim women in the city I live in, I'd like to take a minute to share a story.

I’ve been an AirBnB host for over six years. In my first year hosting, I had a young woman stay for a month as she getting started as a PhD student at the UofA.

She was Muslim.

I am Christian.

Throughout her four-week stay, I showed her around. Coming from a large city in the middle of the desert, she was keen on spending time in nature. So I took her to Elk Island National Park, down into the River Valley, and--upon request--I found her a wheat field to stand in.

I took her to Ikea to get what she needed for her new apartment, and to the Old Strathcona Farmer's Market to show her where to buy local close to campus. I Googled the Halal shops close by. I accompanied her on a walk or two.

In all this, we talked about our different upbringings, our different cultural experiences, and our different faiths—I remember she openly answered my curious questions about her faith practices, and the principles that guide them. I think I did the same for her.

She reached out a few times after she’d moved. She was making friends with other international students, and they sometimes had questions as they tried to immerse themselves in various aspects of “Edmonton culture” for the first time. One particular summer evening, she texted and said she and her friends were going tent camping in Jasper for the first time that weekend. She wanted me to come; partly for company, but partly, I'm pretty sure, as the Canadian Camping Expert. I couldn’t go, but I offered up my camping gear so they wouldn’t have to buy everything new.

That was the day I stood in my garage and showed a Muslim woman and her friend how to pitch a tent.

I don’t remember most of the conversations we had. I just remember she had such a posture of humility. She was open to conversation without judgement or pretense. She had a delightful sense of humour. She was open to trying new things. She was disciplined in her studies as well as her faith.

I've thought of her, and other Muslim women I know, often this past year, as these acts of racism and hate keep happening. I don’t have any heroic point to make here other than to show that she is a person--with hopes, joys, and a life—just like every other Muslim in Edmonton and Alberta.

Let me just say that if you’re the kind of individual who is bothered by people who look, dress, or live differently than you, YOU’RE the one who can go elsewhere. I stand with the Muslim women who've been attacked this year, and all those who are at risk of discrimination and attack as they simply go about the business of living. They have every right to be here and to exist as you or I.

The Multi-Coloured Thoughts in My Head

Between recent local pride parades and the US decision to legalize gay marriage country-wide, there's been a lot of colour in my Facebook feed. Because of my social circles, I get the pro-posts and the anti-posts.

...Am I the only one who feels like she sits in the middle?

This has always been one topic where I can't pinpoint exactly what I believe. I live in the tension of not fully knowing.

My Christian faith drives my values. I know what I've been taught--what the New Testament says: that homosexual practices are a 'no.'* And since I use Scripture as one tool to guide my faith practices, I'm inclined to settle on, "well, okay, then--I can't support homosexual practices as something godly." That is, lean into the idea that the lifestyle falls into that swamp of behaviours called sin.

Seems simple, but what does that look like in the day-to-day? ...I feel like church doesn't help me here (and by church, I don't mean my personal congregation, I mean the global institution). And it's likely, in part, because the church struggles with its response too. But I feel like the church often mixes up how it treats the LGBTQ person and the LGBTQ lifestyle.

From what I can tell, the Bible admonishes the practice, not the person.

(It admonishes a lot of practices, but never the person.)

I've never actually had much trouble with that concept.

Because did you know you can disagree with someone and still love and accept them?

I'm pretty sure Jesus' command was to love others. Full stop.
(I know the kind of people He hung out with.)

A meme flew through my news feed ages ago that read along the lines of, "getting angry at someone because what they do is against your religion is like being angry at someone for eating a doughnut because you're on a diet."

It's not a perfect analogy, but do you get the point? If I have chosen to adhere to a certain value system with certain beliefs, then fine--but that doesn't give me the right to go around admonishing people who aren't in line with that value system.

I wish that hypocritical, Pharisitical** Christians would stop giving the rest of us a bad name.

There is a place for LGBTQ individuals in our pews.

There's a place for them on our worship teams.

There's even a place for them to--gasp--teach your children in Sunday School.

Scripture spends a good chunk of time talking about the body of Christ. And the fact that all believers are part of that.

And some believers don't fit traditional gender roles and sexual orientations.

Do you think God didn't know they'd be LGBTQ before He created them?

Maybe He IS saddened by those who fall into non-traditional genders. I don't know.

Humans are a broken creation, right down to the cellular level.

And maybe He didn't create His children to be anything other than just male and female, but He has obviously let a continuum of gender unfold.

And I know two things.

God doesn't make mistakes.
AND
God can use our brokenness for His glory.

So step up, church. LGBTQ individuals have a right to be included in the body.***

On that note, I do wish that members of the LGBTQ community would quit hassling churches that choose not to perform non-traditional marriages. Yes, it's illegal and unjust to discriminate against a person by not allowing them into the congregation to be a part of the church community, but I don't think it's discrimination to not offer a service they don't believe in as a body. That's not discrimination; that's just a congregational preference.

You could compare it to dress codes. It's legal to wear pretty much whatever you want, but it's likely against policy to wear flip-flops if you work in a corporate office downtown. That's not discrimination; that's a preference for a certain professional standard that the business has set.

Or compare it to living on campus. My university was a dry campus. Drinking alcohol is legal for anyone over 18, and students were allowed to drink, but not on campus. That's not discrimination; that's an institutional preference.

And one last example, because I need to drive this home: smoking. It's legal to smoke, but I don't allow smoking in my home. I have no issues interacting with, caring about, and having smokers over, but I'm simply not going to allow them to smoke in my house. That's not discrimination; I just value clean air--a personal preference.

So while I believe that the church needs to step up in its acceptance of the LGBTQ community as people worthy of worshipping in the same space, I believe the LGBTQ community needs to step down and respect an individual church body's decision not to provide marriage services outside of the traditional.

But considering all of that, I still don't know where that leaves me in what practices I support (or don't) as an individual.

I work for an organization that advocates for inclusion of people with disabilities. I realized not too long ago that if I'm advocating for inclusion, that means inclusion for ALL. I can't push for the rights of people with disabilities and not the rights of other minorities.

Which is why I'm confident in saying, "hey, church, step up your game and actually be inclusive."

But if--as a Christian--I'm not supposed to not support LGBTQ practices.... what happens if one day I know and care about someone who is LGBTQ and they invite me to their wedding? Could I go, because I love and care about that person, or would I have to make a faith statement and decline the invitation? I don't like thinking about that.

Because I know too much biology and psychology to believe that homosexuality could be a choice.

Sexual orientation and gender are not a choice, any more than eye colour is a choice. And how ridiculous would it be to say to a person, "I love you and care about you, but I can't come to your wedding or honour you and your partner's relationship because your eyes are blue."

And how unjust it feels to say to a person, "I know you can't control how you were born, but you will need to inhibit the desires of how it's made you want to live your life."

It's not like it's a disorder or some psychopathology where their practices and behaviours could hurt themselves and others and do need to change (but where you would still love, accept, and include that person as part of a community, let me be clear). I don't see how loving someone of the same gender, or identifying with the opposite gender is hurtful. I think it's more hurtful to deny who you are.****

I recognize that I speak from a place of 'straight privilege.' Outside of my own cognitive dissonance, this is not my struggle. I would wager that an LGBTQ Christian might read this, shake their head at me, and think, "you can't even possibly know."

But I want to. 

* 1 Cor. 6:9
** Is that a word? It is, now.
*** This guy's been resonating with me a bit lately.

**** But what about STDs and AIDS, Gina? you ask. Well, I'm pretty sure that afflicts a lot of straight people too. I think that has less to do with what gender you lean towards and more about promiscuity, which I do firmly believe is not a good idea, regardless of your sexual orientation.

Can We Quit Losing Our $#!*& Over Holiday Greetings?!

I'm Christian. So I celebrate Christmas. If you ask me for the definition of Christmas, I will tell you that it's a celebration of the day Jesus Christ was born into this world.¹ I will tell you it's an important day for me and other believers, because we believe that Jesus was born into this world as our Lord and Saviour. I believe Jesus is God, born in human form. To a virgin. In a barn. Fully human and fully divine. That's my faith. And so I celebrate Christmas. And therefore often greet others with, "Merry Christmas!"

To be honest, I do wonder a bit at the masses of people who choose to say they celebrate Christmas when they don't believe any part of its definition. I mean, if you don't believe in Jesus, and therefore have no reason to honour his birthday, then why do you say you celebrate Christmas? I do wish people would be accurate in defining the holiday they believe in and celebrate.

But outside of that semantic detail, I actually have no issue with whatever holiday that is.

I'm not offended if you tell me Happy Hannukah.
I'm not offended if you wish me Happy Diwali.
I'm not offended with a Happy Solstice.
Or Happy Kwanzaa.
And I'm not offended if you greet me with Happy Holidays.

A lot of different celebrations happen at this time of year. I don't know the origins of all winter celebrations, but good grief--Jesus' birthday isn't even in December; we just piggy-backed the timing on a pagan solstice holiday that already existed³. So who am I to get all up in your celebrations?!

As near as I can tell, all these winter celebrations are about peace.

All these celebrations embrace light.

All these celebrations encourage giving.

All these celebrations mean joy!

And lastly, all these celebrations come from a practice of love.

So if we⁴ are getting our tinsel in such a tangle over what celebration others are sharing with us, that we can't see the intention behind their greeting, then we've missed the point entirely. And worse, we become hypocrites of our own faith. It IS possible to have a strong faith--live it, breathe it, maybe even preach it--without passing judgement on the faiths of others.

In the office small-talk, in the checkout line at the supermarket, or in the parking lot at the mall, I can't tell, just by looking, what you celebrate, any more than you can tell what I celebrate. That being said, when you wish me Happy Holidays, know that I'm not one of those people who will then try and correct your greeting by explaining what 'one' faith this time of year is 'really' about. December is not the time for theological debate. From me, your greeting can be guaranteed a response of, "thanks, you too!"

And all I ask is the same in return.





1 As supported by the following:
dictionary.com - the festival of the Christian church commemorating the birth of Jesus.
merriam-webster.com - a Christian holiday that is celebrated on December 25 in honor of the birth of Jesus Christ
thefreedictionary.com - A Christian feast commemorating the birth of Jesus.
wikipedia.com - annual commemoration of the birth of Jesus Christ.

2 Which, to be fair, means I should really decorate a palm tree each year, because it would be a more accurate reflection of a true "Christmas" tree. Decorating an evergreen is more in line with celebrating the Solstice.

3 Hear that, fellow Christians? Jesus is not the original reason for the season. He's just the reason for ours.

4 Not 'we' as Christians, but 'we' as society--all faiths are guilty of slamming other faiths at this time of year.

SOTC 133/365

Notre Dame Basilica, Side Right, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank

SOTC 108/365

"...the sunset, His signature."

-- Unknown

Why I Don't Want to Know What You're Doing for Lent

I don't keep it a secret on social media (or anywhere) that I am a Christian, but it's not something I explicitly shout from the rooftops, either. So, it's a little strange for me to be posting a very intentionally faith-based read, but it's something that's been bugging me about the Christian community, as a whole, for the last few years.

We all know that this generation of adults tends to carry the mentality of "who needs privacy, anyway?" The internet has not helped this. We will share almost anything on Facebook, Twitter, etc. Even when we recognize that we should probably work to keep some aspects of our lives behind closed doors.

I don't have statistics, but from my experience, Christians are not much better than the rest of the population. We are human, after all. But we are called to a higher standard, and I challenge us to consider that during this upcoming season of Lent.

Several years ago, as part of a small group I attended, we read Richard Foster's book Celebration of Discipline. It took us through several spiritual disciplines, examining their value and how we could be more intentional about practicing each. To be fair, there is much of the content that I don't specifically remember. But I do remember that the conversation around the spiritual discipline of fasting stuck out for me. There is a whole chapter that talks about fasting and how one might go about it, especially if one has never fasted before.

While Richard was referring to food throughout the chapter, the study guide and video encouraged conversation about fasting from other things--media, spending, etc. There was also discussion about Lent as a time of fasting, as we often fast from things other than food during this time.

In the chapter, Richard refers to Matthew 6:1-18 as he writes:

"It should go without saying that you should follow Jesus' counsel to refrain from calling attention to what you are doing. The only ones who should know you are fasting are those who have to know. If you call attention to your fasting, people will be impressed and, as Jesus said, that will be your reward. You, however, are fasting for far greater and deeper rewards."

For example, if we are fasting from sweets, and a colleague brings in a cake, and invites us to share in it, we are to say a simple "no, thank you" or "I'm good, thanks." There is no need to explain ourselves by saying that we can't have cake because we are fasting.

We do the latter with dieting as a subtle (or not so subtle) way to toot our own horns, to show others, see? I can stick with my diet plan, aren't I doing well?

But fasting is not dieting.

We ought not to seek attention for it from others.

Now, that being said, does it mean that we should never tell others about our spiritual practices? I don't think that's true, either. As an example, growing up, our family often shared our chosen Lenten practices with each other. There was one year we even chose practices for each other. This was not so we could draw attention to what we were choosing; we were holding each other accountable as a family. We engaged in conversation about the intention behind the fast, as well as the subsequent spiritual growth.

I think that's totally appropriate.

What I'm not convinced is appropriate is announcing our Lenten practices on Facebook and similar social platforms. Unless all 368 of your Facebook friends are so close to you that they will use that knowledge to hold you accountable and engage you in reflective conversation about your spiritual growth, I think such sharing of information is largely just for attention. Look how good a Christian I am, I'm staying away from X for forty whole days!*

How is that anyone else's business?

"Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted" (Matt. 23:12). This is one of those countercultural truths we forget again and again. Society gives attention and adoration to those who speak up, share their story. But it is stated more than once in Scripture that these people may have their moment in the spotlight, but it is the humble who will ultimately be exalted.

It is true that I can't actually judge the intention behind other people's sharing. Perhaps sharing your Lenten fast of choice on Facebook really is the only way you will be able to keep accountable to it. There are blogs I've stumbled upon where the author has put out a recommended Lenten practice for others to follow and/or contribute towards.** Perhaps, for some people, sharing and seeing what other Christians are doing is motivating and conducive to spiritual growth.

So I'm not saying there may not be an appropriate place to let others know what you're doing for Lent. What I'm saying is, what is the intention behind the sharing? What are the motives of your heart?

And when we go to ask others, "what are you giving up for Lent?" we also need to consider the reason for asking them to share. Do we know this person well enough that we are asking out of interest for their spiritual well-being? Are we making Christian small-talk? Or are we just starting a conversation so that we have a reason to share what we're doing?

What are our intentions?

So, as a general rule, what you practice during Lent is none of my business. It is between you and Jesus. And maybe an accountability partner--whose role is not to just give you a pat on the back when you're abstaining from whatever it is, but who challenges you on the days when it's tough. And continues to do so far after Lent has ended.

When someone asks, "so, what are you doing for Lent?" telling them is actually the easy answer. I think it's far more difficult--but far more necessary--to respond, "I know you're curious, but I'm keeping Lent between Jesus and myself this year."

Thanks for your understanding.






* Also to keep in mind, as an adult, Lent should not JUST be a simple giving up of something--it needs to be more.
** This practice even intrigues me, though not the sharing part.

Still Worshipping Through Secular Music

In a [Facebook note turned] blog post from several years ago, I contemplated the idea of secular music having purpose as worship. Over the years, there have been songs here and there that I have added to my mental collection of "secular worship" music.

Just before Christmas, I heard Phillip Phillips' song "Home" for the first time. Initially, I was taken in by the melody and the vocals (he sounds eerily like Mumford & Sons). But once I listened closely to the lyrics, I was impacted powerfully by the song as one of worship. Not Phillip Phillips--but Jesus--singing His song of protection and care in these lyrics.

Beautiful.

"Hold on to Me as we go

As we roll down this unfamiliar road."

Way, Truth, Life OR SOTC 36/365

Hands That Flung Stars Into Space?

I am often floored by God's creation. I stand at the edge of my garden in the spring, watching tulip buds poke their way through the ground--again!--after a long, winter sleep. I stand at the edge of the ocean, listening to the undulating crash against the shore. I stand at the summit of a mountain, the rocky view going on forever. And I am filled with words of praise like 'awesome', 'peaceful', 'glorious', 'lovely', 'expansive', 'refreshing', 'humbling'. Words that try to--but still don't quite--speak to the superlative nature of the Creator and the fact that he has chosen to bless my senses.

Such is the same when I find myself outside of the city, looking up at the night sky. There are SO many stars! Some are so far away that they have already burned up by the time the light has traveled far enough that I can see them. And yet, I see them. The sky is so vast, and the stars are so many. I feel like such a small part of the universe; and yet, not in a bad way. More like, I am a very small part of this universe, but obviously an important part if God chose to create me amongst the whole of His creation around me. The whole thing just blows the mind.

Last night, I had my first opportunity to see and photograph a meteor shower. The Perseid Meteor Shower is an annual event, though this is the first I recall hearing of it (or perhaps I've just never been in a position to check it out, so I've never paid attention).

I drove out to the quiet of the Cooking Lake-Blackfoot Provincial Recreation Area, about 45 minutes east of the city. There were a few other star-gazers watching from the hoods of their cars in the gravel parking lot, and one couple who had set up camping chairs about 15 feet from where I set up my camera in the adjacent field space.


While I only managed to capture three meteors across my camera sensor, I saw at least a dozen in the three hours I was there.* Short and long bursts of high-speed light, moving every direction across the sky. And we have been given this light show every year for the last 2,000 years.

Sitting under the infinite sparkle of the sky, I was reminded of something I read years ago. In her book Believing God, Beth Moore talks about God's simultaneous ability for order and creativity. She says,

G.K. Chesterton wrote of a God who "is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening, 'Do it again' to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old." 

Ours is a God who delights in a perfect concoction of creativity and order. Though He could have thought out the entire cosmos into existence in a millisecond, instead He brought it about with great patience in six distinct increments. 

Then rested on the seventh. 

Then later insisted that His children do the same. 

God likes order. He likes repetition. A God of fundamentals, He brings up the sun every morning and the moon every evening, but His creativity within that order is gorgeously displayed in the changing sunsets and sunrises surrounding them.

In reflecting upon this--the repetitive nature of this astronomical event, as well as just the multitude of stars above me--I found myself curious. I found myself wondering: when God was creating the stars, did He place them around the universe one by one, setting each one just so? Or did He hold them like a handful of sand and toss them out all at once?

I'm not sure why that--of all the possible ponderings I could possibly have during an evening of star-gazing--was the question I had, but it was.

And the answer was, I don't know.

And I'm okay that it's I don't know. (I'll find out one day!)

What I KNOW--and am so blessed to know--is that there is an amazing Artist, who can create a million of the same thing, and yet have each one be unique. Who plays with the entire colour spectrum--sometimes one colour at a time, and sometimes all at once. Who bends and moves light. Who blesses the senses.

And all we have to do is sit, take it in, and know.



* That may not seem like many, but think about it--how often do you see even ONE shooting star? Exactly.

Of Rain Barrels and the Holy Spirit

My house came with a rain barrel. I had long before decided that once I became a home-owner, I would invest in a rain barrel, so I was delighted so see someone shared my value of collecting rainwater. I much prefer to water my garden and plants by filling the watering can from the rain barrel than using a hose. In part, because it saves me $$ on the water bill. But also, because it's a more eco-friendly option. It always unsettles me a little bit to water my garden, flowers, or--worst off all--the lawn, with drinking water, when there are people on the other side of the world dying from lack of fresh water (that being said, I fully recognize that I am too entrenched in my first-world lifestyle to let my lawn go completely brown or allow my garden to suffer if it hasn't rained enough).

Last year, Edmonton saw a lot of rain (after a winter of also having seen a lot of snow). I never bought a sprinkler. Every time I used rain barrel water on the garden, it was filled up again in a few days with the next rain fall. It was somewhere around late-August where I think I--only once--had to water the garden with the hose to get it through its last few weeks, because the rain barrel was finally near empty.

This year's been a bit of a different story. I bought the sprinkler. And more hose. I still use the rain barrel first, but I have emptied it four or five times to keep my thirsty plants green and growing. I have also, therefore, soaked the garden with the hose four or five times, as I wait for more rain to come. And there has been rain. But usually only for a brief period in the late afternoon or early evening. And not every day. And not usually enough to counterbalance the hot, dry, sun.*

This evening is currently seeing a wonderful downpour.

Depending on how long into the night it continues, it may even fill up the barrel. Last year, I would stare out my kitchen window, thinking there was no way my lawn and garden could keep up with the amount of water its roots were being asked to absorb. This year, I stare out the kitchen window, begging my garden to drink deep. Because you are parched and I don't want to water you if I don't have to.

Sometimes, as I've been staring out the window, I've also reflected on the analogy of the Holy Spirit as water.

It's one of my favourite analogies. The Holy Spirit has been described like a rushing wind, cleansing fire, and refreshing rain (amongst other things). I particularly like the rain analogy, I think because I can relate to the sense of dirt and grime being washed away, the refreshing smell, the softness of once-dry, cracked land, and the absence of thirst after a good rain.

Sometimes we describe ourselves in relation to this analogy of the Holy Spirt. We thirst for God's presence, power, love (and He responds, "All who are thirsty, come..."**) We go through what we call spiritual dry spells. We need to be washed clean from our sin. 

But if the Holy Spirit pours down like rain, what happens in those times when our rain barrel starts to go empty? I don't trust our prairie's meteorological history to wait out the dry heat until the next rainfall. I will make rain on my own. But what about my faith? Do I trust God's relational history to wait out the desert period, or do I try to make rain on my own?

Except, the rain I make costs me.

And the rain I make doesn't always feel like the right thing to do.

And the rain I make doesn't always water as thoroughly.

Hmm.
Not a perfect analogy, I'm sure.
But something I continue to think about.

Especially when it finally rains.

*I am by no means dissing the sun. The sun is amazing. I will take a sunny summer over a rainy one any day. I am merely stating meteorological fact.

** Revelation 22:17. See also John 4:12-14

208/365

"And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered." -- Matt. 10:29

149/365

"Give me oil in my lamp, keep it burning..."

142/365

Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe,

who sanctified us by His commandments,

and commanded us to kindle the lights of Hanukkah.

Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe,

who performed miracles for our ancestors

in those days at this time;

and for the greatest miracle,

Your Son, Jesus Christ.*

Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe,

who has kept us alive, sustained us,

and enabled us to reach this season.** Amen.

***

* The italicized part is my own, which I've added to the prayer in the last couple of years, blending both my Christian faith and Jewish heritage together.

** This stanza is said only on the first night.

*** YES, I realized afterwards that I put the first candle on the wrong end, as it should technically be lit from right to left. I'm pretty sure God won't smite me down. Get over it.

120/365

Advent

"a time of expectant waiting..."*

Advent started yesterday. And I must admit, I'm having a hard time getting into it this year. Last year, I craved the hope, joy, peace, and love of Christ during the advent season. Winter hit me hard, and I clung to the arriving miracle of Christ's birth that serves (among other things) as a reminder of His intense love for us. My daily mantra was, "Jesus is coming!"

So far this year, I've been moving through my daily activities with a mantra more along the lines of, "Jesus is coming?"

I put the tree up.

I brought out the Christmas music.

Those helped a bit.

It could just be cuz it's not even December yet. Or it could be cuz it's been relatively warm so far this winter, without the biting cold I normally associate with post-Christmas-party walks to the car. It could be cuz there's not a lot of snow on the ground. It could be cuz the malls are SO busy that I've avoided them almost completely, and am not being fed Christmas through all my senses.

It could be cuz I'm not in a desperate place spiritually..........

Maybe?

I dunno how I feel about that last point. Cuz if that's a factor, I'm not sure what I think about that.

Last year--well, I spent a good chunk of it being frustrated with God and the world. While for many, that warrants a solid slam of the door in God's face, for me it meant oscillating back and forth between whining/complaining/demanding and desperate hoping. Such is my response to change and the unknown. Advent would have been a month of desperate hope.

Don't get me wrong--I am genuinely in awe of the whole Christmas story, and was so at many points as I reflected on Advent through devotions and church services. That being said, I wonder if some of those intense feelings of hope and anticipation arose simply from the spiritual valley (desert?) I was finding myself in. If I could convince my brain to focus on the awesome part of faith, maybe I wouldn't have to think about the place I was finding myself in. Hmm...

Because this year... I'm not in that desert place. Could that be why I have such a cavalier attitude towards Advent so far this year?

I guess we shall see.



* As stated by Wikipedia

A New Year's Prayer

Holy Father,
God of our yesterdays, our today, and our tomorrows.
We praise You for Your unequaled greatness.
Thank You for the year behind us and for the year ahead.
Help us in Your new year, Father, to fret less and laugh more.
To teach our children to laugh by laughing with them.
To teach others to love by loving them,
Knowing, when Love came to the stable in Bethlehem, He came for us;
So that Love could be with us, and we could know You.
That we could share Love with others.
Help us, Father, to hear Your love song in every sunrise,
in the chirping of sparrows in our backyards,
in the stories of our old folks, and the fantasies of our children.
Help us to stop and listen to Your love songs,
so that we may know You better and better.
We rejoice in the world You loved into being.
Thank You for another new year and for new chances every day.
We pray for peace, for light, and for hope, that we might spread them to others.
Forgive us for falling short this past year.
We leave the irreparable past in your hands, and step out into the unknown new year knowing You will go with us.
We accept Your gift of a new year and we rejoice in what's ahead, depending on You to help us do exactly what You want.
I say it again, we rejoice!
In Jesus name, Amen.

Taken from: http://halife.com/halife/new_year_prayer.html

Silver

Malachi 3:3 says: 'He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver.'

This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study.

That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining Silver.

As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says: 'He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver.' She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined.

The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed. The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, 'How do you know when the silver is fully refined?'

He smiled at her and answered, 'Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it.'

Cheering for the Visiting Team

I found this while organizing/sorting through some old files and stuff this past week. What a blessing to have so many in my life who cheer the visiting team with me. :)

I'm writing this ... on a Saturday morning in Boston. I came here to speak at a conference. After I did my part last night, I did something very spiritual: I went to a Boston Celtics basketball game. I couldn't resist. Boston Gardens is a stadium I'd wanted to see since I was a kid. Besides, Boston was playing my favourite team, the San Antonio Spurs. 

As I took my seat, it occurred to me that I might be the only Spurs fan in the crowd. I'd be wise to be quiet. But that was hard to do. I contained myself for a few moments, but that's all. By the end of the first quarter I was letting out solo war whoops every time the Spurs would score. 

People were beginning to turn and look. Risky stuff, this voice-in-the-wilderness routine. 

That's when I noticed I had a friend across the aisle. He, too, applauded the Spurs. When I clapped, he clapped. I had a partner. We buoyed each other. I felt better. 

At the end of the quarter I gave him the thumbs-up. He gave it back. He was only a teenager. No matter. We were united by the higher bond of fellowship. 

That's one reason for the church. All week you cheer for the visiting team. You applaud the success of the One the world opposes. You stand when everyone sits and sit when everyone stands. 

At some point you need support. You need to be with folks who cheer when you do. You need what the Bible calls fellowship. And you need it every week. After all, you can only go so long before you think about joining the crowd. 

-- Max Lucado

Not Meant to Understand, Just Go With It

Taken from Beth Moore's book, Believing God (good book overall. I especially enjoyed the last four chapters, from which this passage comes).

?!

I don't get how someone with so much potential has such seemingly little direction (no, not me. And no, not you). It totally boggles my mind. And seems so contrary to God's design. A faith relationship with Christ and aimlessness in one's life--those seem mutually exclusive, no?

Unmet Longings

The following was e-mailed to me last week by a friend, and only just now did I get a chance to sit down and actually read it. And it was awesome. So I wanted to share it! I found myself confronting God with the issue of "unmet longings" and "awakening desire" through a good chunk of last year, and came to some of the realizations John Eldredge comments upon here. Reading through this has given me still more to think about now that I have jumped into 2009 with both feet!

It's a new year--what does your heart desire?

...What do we then do with longings and desires that go unmet? I mean, they keep presenting themselves in one way or another. 

I think what I do is simply bury them (and I see others do it too). On one hand, of course we do. It feels like we have to. You cannot live your life with a constant awareness of heightened desires that are unmet, just as you can't go through your day continually pining for a life you do not have. You have to live the life you do have. But I find that from time to time God comes and actually stirs our longings and desires, awakens them. You see someone and think, What would life be like with her (or him)? Over dinner one night someone tells you how much he loves his job, and you think, Maybe it's time for a change. I always did want to ________ (fill in the blank). Be a writer. An architect. 

Why does God do this? Wouldn't it be better to let sleeping dogs lie? 

No. To bury the deep longings of our hearts is not a good thing. Doing so begins to shut our hearts down, and then we fall into that "get on with life" mentality. For me, that means bearing down and working. Getting things done. But my passion slowly fades away, and life recedes from me. I cannot bring to my work the zest I once did, so even my work suffers. Because my heart is suffering. It's like a form of slow starvation... 

The heart is like that. Thank God, we cannot force it down forever. Hurting, it begins to insist on some attention. Now, we can either listen to those rumblings and let our hearts surface so that we bring them to God, or we can give in to some addiction. The starving heart won't be ignored forever. Some promise of life comes along and BOOM--we find ourselves in the kitchen closet taking down a quart of ice cream or cruising the Internet for some intimacy. 

God knows the danger of ignoring our hearts, and so he reawakens desire. You see a photo in a magazine, and pause, and sigh. You see someone with a life that reminds you of the life you once thought you would live. You're channel surfing and see someone doing the very thing you always dreamed you would do - the runner breaking the tape, the woman enjoying herself immensely as she teaches her cooking class. Sometimes all it takes is seeing someone enjoying themselves doing anything, and your heart says, I want that too....More often than not, this awakening of desire is an invitation from God to seek what we've given up as lost, an invitation to try again. ... It's so easy to reach those plateaus where we decide, This is good enough. It could be better, but it could be worse too. To get to the better will take work, and risk, and I'm fine with things the way they are. God comes along and says, Don't give up. 

I'm stunned by this whole reawakening process. The willingness and what feels like such a risk for God to reawaken desire in me. I mean, geez--to feel again a desire I've long buried. Yikes. I might make a wrong move, come to the wrong conclusion, just as our friend might have decided that what she really needed was a different spouse. 

Something I read years ago by C.S. Lewis in The Weight of Glory has proven helpful to me time and time again, and may rescue us in the very moment of awakened desire I am describing. Lewis is trying to show us that what God uses to awaken desire is not necessarily what we long for. The things "in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust them; it was not IN them, it only came THROUGH them, and what came through them was longing. These things...are good images of what we desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of the worshippers. For they are not the thing itself." They are not what we are longing for. 

It is not that specific man or woman we desire, but what they point to, what is coming through them.... When a desire is awakened, by whatever source, the thing to pray is God, what do you have for me? 

I think many of us who do long for a holy life have chosen the way of "kill desire," because at the time it seems there is no other way. And sometimes in the moment, this may well be our only choice. Certainly it is better to push away some longing if we know that yielding to it means giving way to temptation. But this is not the best way to holiness in the long run, for the starving heart will eventually seek some relief. 

But there are many desires that we know cannot be met now. It may be too late to become a professional baseball player or musician, or too late to have a child. This is the real danger zone because it seems like there is no other choice but to put away this part of your heart. But to send your heart into exile because your longings have no hope of being met is also to exile your heart from the love of God. And he would have your whole heart. It's hard to tell whether God is arousing some desire so that you may seek a new life or simply so that this part of your heart may be made whole in him. But whatever else may be the case, you have to begin by giving this part of your heart back to God. Above all else, your heart must find a safe home in him. 

-- John Eldredge, from Walking With God.