Wednesday, November 24, 2010

An Update and An Article

First of all, thank you all for the kind prayers and support you have given me and my family through this very difficult time.  As I have said before, your prayers and kind words mean more to me than most of you will ever know, especially to those people who have swooped in to help me when I am at my worst.  God bless all of you.
Second of all, for those of you that have emailed me or left me voicemails regarding how I am doing, please be patient with me returning those.  There are times when I just cannot talk about what is going on with anyone because mentally, I just cannot continue to rehash it.  It is nothing personal to you; it really has much more to do with me. 
Third of all, some of you reading STILL don't know what's going on and some of you may never know.  As I have said before on Facebook and other places, just pray.  Pray for me and my family right now.  When I feel the need to disclose what is going on, you'll know.  Until then, just pray for us.
Fourth and last, I found this great article on Relevant Magazine's website  that I would like to pass on.  I try not to cut and paste much anymore, but they have no Twitter or Facebook links to share it so this is how I am going to do it.  I'll post a link to the article as well.  Relevant Magazine people, if it's a problem, I'll take it down.  Until then, enjoy this article on those Crazy Christians:

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god/deeper-walk/features/23609-dealing-with-crazy-christians

crazy Christian
When you want to say, "I'm a Christian, but not like them."
Tell me if this has happened to you: you're going along, trying your best to live a Christian life, reading the Bible regularly and going to church, when you come upon a person (or group of people) who share your beliefs. You think pretty much the same things, you come from the same backgrounds, but the only difference between you and them when it comes to their faith is ... they're extremely frustrating. And it's driving you nuts.
I'm sure you know who I'm talking about: folks who are exceptionally loud, usually whiny and highly judgmental. And, because they're Christians, they're ruining it for everybody else.
Recently, I was talking to a few friends—really faithful folks who attend church regularly and who, above all other things, self-identify as Christians—about the subject of unemployment. They immediately shared their distaste for those out of work, labeling them all as lazy. “They're all just unemployed because they don't want to work,” said one. “If they really wanted a job, they would get one. These sad, greedy people are not more deserving than me for my hard-earned pay. It's ridiculous.”
(I wisely refrained from sharing I had only recently found a part-time job after being unemployed for nearly six months and my mother was still unemployed after two, trying to make ends meet with the benefits she receives. For the record, I do not consider either of us inherently lazy, greedy and manipulative of the system. )
I was baffled when another friend announced she would never support any organization that promotes breast cancer research, as she believed most of them also advocate abortion. When pointed out to her that those who suffer from breast cancer are also in need of care, she argued that the unborn are far more defenseless. Although I am also pro-life, I was baffled by the absoluteness of her argument—as a Christian, can't we find a way to care for all of those who are weak among us?
But wait a minute, I thought. Aren't we supposed to be on the same side? Am I alone in being frustrated? And perhaps most importantly, what am I called to do about it?
Like most things under the sun, contentious relationships like these are nothing new. In Jesus' day, the Jewish faith was governed by the Pharisees, pious followers of the law who placed the tenets of their religion above all else. They were prideful, fearful men, bent on making life miserable not only for those who fell short of following God's law to the extent that they did, but also for Jesus. Baffled that Jesus would dare spend His time with common sinners—tax collectors! Women accused of adultery!—and that He would dare to heal people on the Sabbath day, they chalked up His actions to evil. “It is by the prince of demons that he drives out demons," they said (Matthew 9:34, NIV).
These men, the ones who supposedly were followers of the same faith Jesus was, tested Him in public and berated Him, denouncing His reputation, but Jesus had none of it. On multiple occasions He addressed them directly, telling them in no uncertain terms where they fell short: “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You have neglected the more important matters of the law: justice, mercy and faithfulness” (Matthew 23:23). He also says: “Woe to you! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are” (Matthew 23:14-16).
Pretty strong words. Why was He so angry? Was it because He understood the damage the Pharisees were doing in misrepresenting the character of the God they worshiped? Was it because His level of frustration was reaching its max? Both?
The thing is, like the Pharisees, most of today's frustrating Christians are really trying to do the right thing. In His famous Sermon on the Mount, Jesus Himself says that “unless your righteousness surpasses that of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law, you will certainly not enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:20). There are consequences for those who break God's law (5:19), and many Christians are trying to walk the path of righteousness, which is, as Jesus told us, a very narrow one. So it becomes easier to understand that some Christians believe that in order to represent the fullness of the Gospel, they must need to place limits on those to whom they preach.
But it's exactly that message, the message of, “You are not welcome,” that becomes so frustrating. Many Christians are so set on judging others that they lose sight of the heart of Jesus—His love—and His message of unconditional love and mercy becomes twisted into an ugly stereotype.
So what are we called to do about it? First and foremost, we need to be honest with ourselves. Are we the kind of Christian who judges first, then loves afterward? We need to follow Jesus' example, and love and minister to everybody—including the Christians who annoy us—with patience and without complaint. Just as Jesus healed those who were outcast, including Samaritans, lepers and women, we need to welcome and serve—without judgment, since Jesus certainly didn't give any and that alone is up to God—all who are present in our lives: the gay co-worker, our grandparent suffering from Alzheimer's, the homeless man on the street corner, the liberal or Tea Party voters next door. To ignore them publicly and judge them privately, while at the same time proclaiming to be a follower of God, is a disservice to your Christian brothers and sisters struggling to proclaim God's Good News to the world. And there is nothing good about self-righteousness and phony piety. We also need to reevaluate our relationships with God and find out if we have lost sight of that balance between walking in God's grace and doing what we can to serve Him here on earth.
The truth is, none of us have it all together. We all struggle with something, and it's hard enough as it is to be a loyal Christian and follow a path of lifelong righteousness. When we're tempted to point our fingers and complain to God that our fellow Christians are “doing it wrong,” it’s best to take a lesson from what really matters.
At the end of John's Gospel, after Jesus' resurrection, He is seated with the apostles. Peter is very concerned about the “one Jesus loves,” and is anxious about what will happen to him. Jesus looks at Peter and tells him some of the wisest words found in the New Testament.
“If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You follow me” (John 21:22).
So follow Him. Keep loving. The non-Christians who know you will be drawn to you; and through your prayer and your example many will come to know Jesus—the real Jesus, the God of love and compassion for all.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Untitled Poem

Felt the need to write today and was trying to post this on Facebook, but my work computer won't let me.  I will post it later on there, too, but until then, here it is, as yet, untitled:

When your paradigm of being a good person is shattered and flipped on its head and you see yourself in the mirror and realize just how disgusting you are…

When you have lost all ability to defend your actions, when you realize how others see you and maybe more importantly, you realize why they see you that way…

When you have been treated badly and realized that you fully deserved it and probably much more…

When your spirit is heavily wounded, covered in blood, and infected…

When you are tired, beaten, broken, your spirit completely destroyed, your side’s sore from the sobbing, your eyes heavy from lack of sleep, and you feel like you are wasting away inside…

When you can make no more demands…

When you approach God with that “thousand yard stare”…

…and fall

…and with the last scream of agony, you let go of your life and descend into the darkness.

….small is the light.
…slow is the morning
…subtle is the peace

When you begin to slowly rise to try and look the world in the eye…
...and find the olive branch amidst the flood
...and the rest is a little easier
…and the tears begin to dry
…and the wounds begin to heal
…and the light is a little stronger
…and the sun is a little brighter
…and the peace is stronger than angst

Now the journey begins…

Friday, November 5, 2010

The Aftermath

Those of you that are close to me know about the past few weeks and what has been going on.  If you don’t know at this point, you will probably not know because the nature of what is happening is so intensely personal that I have only chosen to share it with certain people in the hopes that they will continue to pray.
My first inclination is to call it a storm, but I was thinking this morning that it is not so much a storm as it is the aftermath of the storm.  I remember as a seventh grader, looking out my window on the morning of September 22, 1989, as the remnants of Hurricane Hugo, at that time a tropical storm, ripped through my county with 60 mph sustained winds.  My mother woke me up, scared because our mobile home was rocking. The power went out and all we could really do was wait for it to come back on  .I remember walking outside after it was all over and seeing mobile home under-skirting missing, siding hanging off of mobile homes and houses,  and downed power lines.  When the power came back on three days later (we were lucky), we learned that our county was among the counties declared a federal disaster area.  Images poured across the screen of the extensive damage to the Carolina coast that Hugo had done.  Often people would wander around in shock looking at what used to be their home and even more sadly, looking for loved ones that were missing or perhaps dead.  Hurricane Hugo caused 56 fatalities, left nearly 100,000 homeless, and resulted in over $10 billion (1989 USD, $17.5 billion 2010 USD) in damage overall, making it the most damaging hurricane ever recorded at that particular time. The hurricane caused $7 billion ($16.3 billion in 2006 USD) in damages within the mainland United States alone, the costliest hurricane in American history at the time, but was later surpassed by Hurricane Andrew three years later, the record amount of damage was broken several more occasions within the next 20 years, and now Hurricane Hugo now ranks eighth highest for the costliest hurricane in the United States.”[1]  These images have always stuck with me.  For most of you, the images of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and 9/11 will stick with you.
I am standing in the aftermath among the ruins of my life.  I am trying to pick out the things that are salvageable and discard the things that have been destroyed.  I know that I will never be the same again.  Perhaps this seems a bit dramatic, especially for those of you that do not know the details, but I do not think it is being overly-dramatic at all.  What I, and other members of my family are going through, is akin to the death of a loved one.  Having had only one person that I was very close to pass away, my father in 1986 when I was only ten, I do not really have anything else to compare it to. 
But this morning, as I write, I want to ease the minds of you who know the details.  The pieces are being picked back up.  The clean-up process has begun.  I am confident that new structures will be put in place.  The process of repentance and forgiveness has begun. For some, this may seem like the sky is falling, but after much reflection, I am seeing this not so much as the end of an era, but as the beginning of healing.  For the past three years, going on four years, God has been whittling away things in my life that I knew should not be there, things that I was scared to let go of, things that some would say were sin, things that may have compromised my faith.  Some things were easy to let go of, but most of them my stubborn heart and flesh just did not want to turn loose.  I was too busy pointing fingers at others while never stopping to point the finger at me.  While I would admit to some of the blame, I would never admit to it all. 
Throughout this past week, there have been moments of anger, moments of fear, moments of grief, moments of hopelessness and moments of extreme sadness.  But thankfully enough, for me, there have also been moments of repentance and moments of forgiveness and maybe even more strangely enough, there have also been moments of serenity and moments of peace.  There is a new confidence in my heart, a strange sense of purpose, and a still small voice that says that despite my feelings and opinions that everything is crashing down around me, the only thing I really need is God. 
            I was struck hard this week by this passage in Matthew that talks about Jesus calming the storm.  The disciples in the midst of the storm said to Jesus, “Save us, Lord. We are perishing” (Matthew 8:25), but Jesus rebukes the winds and the sea and everything was calm.  What struck me is not the incredible power of Christ to calm the storm; what struck me is that the disciples thought they were perishing.  I would have loved to have seen the look on Christ’s face when they said to Him “we are perishing.”  The reality of the situation was that they weren’t perishing.  I’m sure it sure felt like they were.  It looked like their world was crashing down around them and they were not sure they were going to see another day, but the reality was that Jesus was in the boat with them.  What I took from this is that when I looked at God so many times in the past three years, in the past six weeks, and even more specifically, in the past week, and said to Him, “I am dying! Help me!” the truth was that I was never really dying at all, that my life was also safe and secure as long as I had Jesus with me in the boat, that what was really happening is that He was using circumstances in my life to draw me closer to Him.
            I certainly do not want to make this sound trite.  If you excuse my bluntness, what I and my family are going through hurts like hell and this is certainly not all about me, but we are not dying.  I am safe and secure despite everything going on around me and I have no doubt that no matter the outcome of the aftermath, I will be right where God wants me, if I keep in mind that I am His covenant child and nothing, not even the gates of hell, can change that.
            For those of my friends and family that do not know what is going on, I can only ask of you that you pray.  Simply pray for me and my family.  For those of my friends and family that do know, please also pray.  Your support and your very presence mean so much to me right now that mere words cannot contain my gratitude.  Your love and support have been the hands of Christ that have held me during this time.
            I do not know what the full outcome of the aftermath will be, but perhaps unbelievably to some of you, I am actually grateful for the clarity that God has given me in the past week.  All the things that I thought were so important…they just aren’t. What is important is that my life is on the altar…once again…for God to use however He wants to.


[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hurricane_Hugo