Game Changer

Have you heard terrible stories? Oh yes. We all have. In fact, we hear horrible things every single day and are so desensitized to them that most of them just pass through our minds without anything more than a simple thought that says, “That’s a shame” or “What a tragedy”. And then, we continue on with our lives as if nothing happened. We go to work and focus on our everyday tasks. We experience frustration over meaningless concerns like someone not letting off their brake fast enough when the light turns green, or a loved one not living up to our expectations. We just live. Or do we? Is a life with a routine really a life? Get up at 6 am, turn the knob in the shower, soap up, rinse off, get dressed, do what you did yesterday, what is done every day. It takes the living out of living. Indeed, I believe that is only functioning.

 

Which brings us to “Little Bee” by Chris Cleave. I bet you are wondering what changed my life? Why the dramatic Facebook status? It will be difficult to explain but I’ll do my best. It was this book. You have heard terrible stories, but not like this one. Basically, the book opens in England where a Nigerian refugee is being released from an immigration detention center. She has lived an unimaginably difficult life. In any case, she makes a phone call to a couple, Andrew and Sarah O’Rourke, the only two people in England that she knows. Andrew picks up and after hearing her ask for help frightfully hangs up on her. Soon after, Andrew commits suicide. Horrible story? That’s only the beginning.

 

 Sarah and Little Bee are the two central characters of the story. Before they are reunited, they continually think of the day that they met in their minds, Little Bee hoping to forget it and Sarah pretending it never happened. This goes on for about 100 pages. When Little Bee does show up on Sarah’s porch at 8am the day of Andrew’s funeral, after some distress on Sarah’s part, they begin to talk about what actually happened that day.

 

The year that Sarah and Andrew had gone to visit Nigeria on vacation, there was an oil war going on that they knew nothing about. Little Bee and her sister Kindness (names they had made up for themselves) were on the run from the men who had killed everyone in their village. Sarah and Andrew were trying to enjoy the beach a little while before they had to go back to their hotel compound. The guard from the compound came to warn them around the same time Little Bee and her sister came running onto the same beach. The sound of the men coming with their dogs was audible.

 

Six men came running after them out of the jungle. At this point terrified would not even begin to explain how I would feel. It’s difficult to describe how much emotion and fear and horror is packed within these pages by giving a synopsis. Really, you’d have to read it yourself. But after a short conversation, the men gave Andrew a choice and a responsibility. They wanted him to use their blade to cut off his middle finger to represent how many times they had “taken the middle finger from the white man”. Otherwise, they would kill the little girls slow and painfully.

 

Kindness said, “Do not be afraid. If they kill us today, we will eat bread tonight with Jesus.”

Despite her calm response, Sarah begged him in tears to do it so they wouldn’t have to die. He swung and missed. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

That’s when Sarah lost it. She lost her fears and lost her faith in her husband and assumed that they were all going to die anyway. Andrew wasn’t a man to her anymore because he couldn’t make the sacrifice. So, she did instead. She took the blade and chopped off her own finger because her husband wouldn’t. The man accepted it, but at a price.

‘He reached down and picked up my dead finer. He pointed it at Little Bee.

“You will live,” he said. “The missus has paid for your life.”

Then he pointed my finger at Kindness.

“But you will die, little one,” he said. “The mister would not pay for you. And my boys, you know, must have their taste of blood.”

Kindness gripped Little Bee’s hand. She held her head up.

“I am not afraid,” she said. “The Lord is my shepherd.”’

 

I want you to pretend for a minute that these things had happened to you, just for a minute. Comfortable little you in your everyday life going about your daily routine. You would think you had traveled into the darkest portion of hell. Well, I am here to tell you, reading this in its entirety, was like living it. Didn’t help that the characters name was Sarah.

 

I was full on weeping last night, questioning everything about the life I’m living. Is it enough to love God and to be a Christian? Is it really enough to believe that He died on the cross for me? Comfortable little me in my comfortable little bed in my comfortable little life. ‘Things like this actually happen to people?’ I thought. ‘While I am going about my life are things like this really happening elsewhere?’ And as if Christ was speaking to me, a hollow and heartfelt yes echoed through my mind.

 

 God it is SO easy for us to say “I fear not for the Lord is with me.” What do we truly have to fear? There are psychos in America just like any other place, and with the exception of people who have suffered tortuous rape, things like the Sandy Hook shooting, having a severe form of cancer, etc. Are we really suffering?? Of course I’m not. God knows I don’t suffer. And that is why, in the minutes I read the pages of this book, I asked myself in that moment would I be cowardly Andrew, or courageous Sarah, as if both of them represented parts of me. If a sacrifice from me could save someone’s life, could I do that? Even a small part of me, like a finger, is that bravery inside of me? And what about Kindness, little girl that she was, facing a slow and painful and humiliating death with these men abusing her all the way, drinking the blood of the dead. Kindness, knowing the horror, raising her head and saying “The Lord is my shepherd.” I can’t even fathom this. I can’t relate and I can’t imagine ever having faith that defeats the worst kind of death I can think of.

 

Which led my mind to another question; Have I taken Christ’s suffering for granted? That caused more tears and shame. Have I? Has it been so ingrained in my mind that I forget how painful it would be to have nails through your feet and hands and hang by them for hours? And for the innocent to suffer… And for the innocent to sacrifice for someone else.

 
I really don’t know what else to say if anyone has even read all of this. This book changed my life, and I’m not even finished with it yet. Things that seemed important to me before aren’t anymore. From here, I don’t even know what to do with myself. But this is a game changer. And it changed me. If you don’t understand this, if to you I’m just some crazy radical Christian girl, that’s okay with me. Sometimes being a little radical is a good thing. If you think I’m crazy period, that’s fine. I’ve decided that living to please other people is not nearly as important or effective as living to help them. Hopefully soon I’ll figure out how to do that. More updates soon.       

Questionable Motives

Well, I have this friend, and I have known him for a while. Sometimes he make sense to me and sometimes he doesn't. I used to connect with him a lot better, but those days are long behind us. Anyway, a lot of what he says sticks with me; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Trust me when I say there has been plenty of ugly, plenty of bad, and plenty of good. An equal balance of everything. One day we were talking and he said something that caught my attention in an unpleasant way. It is the idea that people are kind to others to fulfill selfish motives. In other words, anyone who is nice is fake. This sounds really absurd until you think about it. His argument was that it goes against our nature to be kind to other people because we are inherently bad, and we only really care about ourselves. I immediately started examining myself, paranoid that it might be true, that I might hold some characteristic of an inconsiderate wretch using and manipulating people to get what I want out of them. Is that really true?

The world is a hideous place, and our hearts are hideous too. I was watching War of the Worlds the other day, some time in the late afternoon. Tom Cruise and his kids were in possession of a working car, and they came upon an extremely desperate crowd of people who attacked them and forced the car from them. They were breaking the windows, pointing guns, and generally acting like they had flipped their lids. His daughter, who looked to be around 8 years old, was subject to the terror. I sat in amazement. Are people really going to act like that when the world ends? To the point where they could care less if they harm a child? Lord, take me home before that happens. I don't want to see the ugly side of humanity manifest in such a way.

We don't always see it, but there exists an evil inside of us, things we don't know that we are capable of, sins that will devour our hearts if we let them. It's scary to think we would put ourselves above children, above anyone, just to survive another day. I believe that we are evil to the core of our souls, and in my darkest hour I've thought things and said things and done things that wouldn't have been thought, said, or done if I had been thinking about anyone other than myself. Everyone has, and there exists not one righteous person on the face of this earth. So why bother even trying?

My friend is a good guy at heart, but I have often suspected that he just doesn't care how he treats people. He doesn't want to be fake, so kudos to him for being real, whatever that means. Whenever I start asking the why questions in life, I look to God, but I know His purpose is more complicated and intricate than what I could ever even hope to understand. So, I carry this quote by Gandhi around with me just to get me through the tough days and to give me a little encouragement~

"Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it."

It is very important that I continue on with this little role I play in my every day life, because God uses every detail, and pulls every string. My heart is not perfect at all, it has been broken and dropped and repaired and re-broken.. I'm a mess and a masterpiece, and contradictions have never made more sense to me than they do now. I don't show the world the extremes of who I am, nor will I ever be brave enough to, but what I can say is that because of the evil in my heart I am capable of terrible things, and because of the Holy Ghost I have more good in me than even I know. When you show the world your extremes, it reacts, and not always in a good way. I think that's why we keep ourselves hidden, we'd rather have part of ourselves locked away in the dark, our deepest thoughts and emotions concealed from the world so we don't have to deal with it. Because dealing with it is harder.

Do I think people are just nice to fulfill their own selfish desires? Maybe some people. And maybe it happens most of the time. Maybe its how we are raised or what we think God expects of us or some other motivation entirely, I don't really know. What I do know though is that I like to see a smile on someones face and know that I put it there. I like to go out of my way to do something for someone else when I'm in a great mood. And I would like to sit in the floor of a high school bathroom with a friend who is crying her eyes out because she was used and abused by someone, to lend my shoulder and sit in silence. Maybe there really is some selfish motivation in being good to other people. But whenever I see someone struggling, crying, or going through a hard time, I want to reach out. And the only reason or motivation I can think of is that I didn't have a shoulder to cry on when I went through this rough spot, and I wish someone had been there for me, and I'll bet she wishes someone would be there for her. I do it because no one did it for me. And when someone does see me through a hard time or stick with me, I still reach out, because someone was there for me and someone should be there for that person too.

I don't really know the deep psychological methods behind my madness. I do what I do, I am who I am, and I love what I love. Life is quite a bit more enjoyable when you live more than you question. Apparently Gandhi thinks so too. 
         

Graceful

"But he said this to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." ~2 Corinthians 12:9-10~ It's been a while since my last post. As usual, i've gotten caught up in my life, in myself, in MY friends, MY daily routine. And to be perfectly honest, i'm pretty sick of me. I suppose my friends are too. Sometimes things work out in just such a way that you remember how gargantuan the universe is, and how miniscule you are... When Neil Armstrong was making his way back from the Moon, he said, "I put up my thumb and it blotted out planet Earth." I tend to forget how small and unimportant I am. We all do sometimes, I think. It's a wonderful thing how significant events can change your perspective. A very unique and special person that I had the pleasure of knowing passed away recently after a long battle with cancer, and her struggle has been an encouragement to more people than I can count. When I was her student, it never occured to me how much pain she was in on a daily basis, or how strongly she had to feel about her students to get up at 7 in the morning every day just to be an example of what faith can do. It's a small, shallow little world, and i've seen people with hearts bigger than the circumstances that throw off the strongest of us. Sometimes it's hard to love. Sometimes it's difficult to get through the day. And the phrase "Someone always has it harder" does not even begin to explain the hardships of those that God has choosen to be the greatest; and therefore, the least. "In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith- more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire- may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ." 1 Peter 1:6-7 God makes it clear that our greatest strength may very well be our downfall because of the misplaced confidence we put in ourselves. In the same way, our greatest weakness allows us to realize how we need God, and in the moment we recognize our inability to carry on by ourselves, that is where His strength boosts us up. His grace is sufficient for me. You see, we have no real strength of our own. It's His strength that is made alive and powerful by our weakness and submission. Even our greatest confidence is meaningless, small and in vain. After all, how big can our britches get? If Neil Armstrong can cover all of us with his thumb, imagine what God can do! God wants to use His power to help us, but first we have to use our weakness to glorify Him. His plan is to love us and to take care of us, to walk through every trial and tribulation by our side. And to not only praise Him in the good times, but also praise Him through the storm. And in the end, no matter how weak we are, we can't lose, because God will always win. "I'm a winner either way." ~Peggy Golightly

Origin

I want to hold the hands that made me
Love The Origin of love
Burn a never ending fire so His grace is enough
Spread The Word that He created
Speak the truth that he ordained
And if I fall while I am working
In His arms I will remain

"Someone Like Me..."

This blog post is dedicated to an especially fantastic young man who is constantly seeking God but has never thought himself good enough to die for. I love you little brother.

I found him sitting in the corner of a back room. He was in tears, his head in his hands, and his heart humbled. I had asked earlier if he was alright, and he had lied. I came up behind him and gave him a huge hug then sat down in front of him and held his hands. I used to wonder why God moved me from place to place so much, why I could never stay in one city and get comfortable; but that was before I figured out I was supposed to have an affect on many different people. Like the kid in front of me for example. This kid is amazing, I would probably do anything for him, I thought as he continued to cry. I love him like a brother. His tears began to subside gradually and again I asked what was wrong, hoping to get an honest answer this time. Luckily I did.

He said (and I quote), "The only way for me to really serve God is through forgiveness. I think I just forgave someone in a huge way. But I have done so many worse things in my life, I just don't understand how God could ever forgive or even love someone like me..." My heart sank. If he had any inkling of how many times I have been in that exact state of mind, maybe he would understand.

Someone like me...

In that instant I had so many flashbacks of the times that I have questioned God's love because of my tragic flaws. Every moment of pain I have experienced wondering why such a perfect being would have compassion on "someone like me". Why the God of the universe would send His only Son to spill his unfathomably pure blood for a stain creature, "someone like me". Why "someone like me" would even be worth that for any reason at all.

Woah.

I squeazed his hands and tried to stay strong. This kid is a brother to me. I love him and so does God and so do many many other people, and here he was disgusted with himself like I have been so many MANY times before. I told him he was covered, that everything he had done in the past and every flaw he was ashamed of didn't make God love him any less, that in fact, it made God love him all the more. We have an affectionate God who is impressed by the repentance of your failures more than he is impressed by your greatest victories. Someone like me, I told him, is a sentence I utter to myself every moment of the day, every time I close my eyes to go to bed at night. Everytime I fail.

Someone like me...

He told me that I was the one he knew he could come to about anything, and that is something I value more than I can express. I am so grateful for God's hand on me. I'm so glad he can use me even though I often feel like He can't. No matter how many times I wonder why someone like me could be worthy of God's love, the answer will always be bigger and better and more indescribably incredible for my comprehension, for anyone's comprehension.

Someone like me... Is exactly the kind of person God can orchestrate to do His sovreign will.

Weakened

It's been a long while since i've posted anything, and that's a shame. I let my life get so busy and hectic that I forgot why I started this blog; It is supposed to be an outlet for my struggles, an encouragment to my brothers and sisters, and a tool to strengthen my faith. Instead i've let it get burried in the back of my closet like an old relic from another life. At least, that's what it feels like.

Strange to be writing again. I miss it.

This is something I really wanted to share. Something that was important enough to me to linger on my mind for the past several weeks and strong enough to compell me to write about it. I've had a lot of loneliness in my heart for many months and I have let my weaknesses get the best of me more times then I wish to relate to you. The Friday before last I broke and everything I was holding inside was let out in the middle of a public place. Awesome.

I couldn't stop crying, it was UNBEARABLE. I had built up just such an expectation for myself, a specific and set way I wanted to be as a Christian. My dream was to hold my ground and not give into temptations or sin or anger or any of it... I wanted to be strong enough to endure. BOY, did Christ confront me with my own ignorance. I have no such capabilities. I sat slumped over with some of my best friends by my side (how dare I feel so alone in the midst of such wonderful people) unable to choke out even a sentence of the disappointment I felt. My mouth was rendered inutile, but my mind was racing. How did I get to this point of weakness? I just wanted to serve God and everytime I try I fail, everytime I even attempt to do something in His glory, the world works against me to the point where I am distraught and relenting. WHY?

I am SO dumb! Seriously? I'm just one person, how the heck did I think I could take on the world alone? Sure I guess my motives were well directed, but isn't the road to hell paved with good intentions? I was trying (without my realizing it) to bring glory to God without the help of God HIMSELF. Ladies and gentlemen, if you've ever had an encounter with Him, you know He likes bringing Himself glory, and my is it well deserved! My weakness is His strength, and there I was thinking my strength was His strength. Silly girl, silly girl. After I came to this realization, I felt SO much better. I prayed about it and found that if I had to pick between being strong&proud vs. weak&humble, I would gladly choose the latter. So would God.

2 Corinthians 11:29-30 

JC Goes M.I.A.

Ok, so admittedly, it's a funny title. Jesus Christ goes missing in action. Before you read the rest of this, I would like to encourage you to go read Luke 2:41-52. It's really funny in a sad way. Twelve year old Jesus goes missing, so naturally Mary and Joseph freak out like any other parents who lost their twelve year old child would. They search for him, looking for him among their friends and family, tracing their steps back to Jerusalem, and basically running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Finally, they check the synagogue; Low and behold, Jesus is there. Mary scolds him for going away from them, but Jesus says something that makes so much sense that I just sat there for a second and pondered it. "Why were you searching for me? Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house?"

When I was seven, I went "missing" in Wal-Mart. Actually, I told my mom 3 times where I was going to be, but she wasn't listening to me. "Hey mom, I’m going to the arcade. Mom, I’m going to go to the arcade ok? Mommy, I’ll be playing games in the arcade." So I went to the arcade. Kids like arcades! It would make perfect sense to go looking for a kid in the arcade, wouldn't it? I guess not, because after about 20 minutes, she had the whole store looking for me. When she finally found me, she burst into tears and hugged me and kissed me like she thought she'd lost me forever, which I guess I understand in some respects, but at the time I was in shock and all I said was, "I told you where I was going to be..."

The synagogue was the last place that Mary and Joseph looked, but it should have been the first. Put two and two together! Son of God>>> let’s check the synagogue! It seems simple right? It seems simple enough... But really, don't we all make that mistake? Don't we all look for Christ in the last places He would be, but never in the first place He would be? Do you ever feel like a chicken running around with your head cut off, trying to find Christ? Do you ever feel like you've lost Him, like He isn't around, like He is distant or has departed from you...?

WHY? He TOLD us where He would be! And even if He didn't tell us, wouldn't it be obvious? Christ died so that we could have the Holy Spirit within us (John 7:38-39) so why are we ignoring it? We should KNOW it's there. We should KNOW where Jesus is. He told us! Take Him at His Word, and never believe that Christ is gone from you or invisible or departed. He IS omnipresent. Everywhere, inside and out. Even though He is with The Father, He is also within us. Never tell yourself anything different. God didn't leave you. Christ didn't abandon you. The Trinity is like a rock that never moves. So did you ever think... Maybe we are the ones who move away? More soon