I was introduced to a stellar book last night that has provided me with some great encouragement throughout my day: Jesus Freaks. It's a compilation by (you guessed it) DC Talk that gives stories of martyrs of the faith. I think it would be great for a bedtime story or something to read over coffee every morning. Each of the vignettes offers an encouraging story of a person who loved God enough to withstand trials of those persecuting them. It's a good reminder that this sort of thing is happening the world over...even this very minute. The introduction explains:
"The purpose of this book is not to try to explain away the deaths of the martyrs, but to honor their conviction, commitment, and faith - and to build yours. Each of us must follow Jesus for ourselves. You may never have to face the decision of whether or not to die for your faith, but every day you face the decision of whether or not you will live for it."
I'm just a few pages in, but wanted to share with you a part of one of the stories that particularly touched me. Ivan, a soldier in the USSR in the 1970s was asked to renounce his faith. The military found his Christianity to be a discipline problem and wanted to "re-educate" him in the ways of the Communist party. In order to persuade him to deny Christ, he was asked to stand outside in his summer uniform throughout the winter nights, where temperatures dropped to 13 degrees below freezing. Weeks went by like this and Ivan stood praying and singing praise to God, confident that an angel was with him to protect him from the cold. Eventually, he was stabbed, beaten and drowned and his body returned to his parents with the explanation, "He fought with death, but he died as a Christian." In a letter to his parents during this period of trial, Vanya wrote:
"...the Lord has showed the way to me...and I have decided to follow it... I will now have more severe and bigger battles than I have had till now. But I do not fear them. He goes before me. Do not grieve for me, my dear parents. It is because I love Jesus more than myself. I listen to Him, though my body does fear somewhat or does not wish to go through everything. I do this because I do not value my life as much as I value Him. And I will not await my own will, but I will follow as the Lord leads. He says, Go, and I go."
In the midst of trial, I want these words to be my words.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The Taming of the Shrew
There's nothing like unemployment to allow for endless introspection.
While reorganizing files on my computer the other day, I read all of 2008 here on Esther. I save all of my blog posts on my computer for posterity's sake (because I don't really trust the internet and what if they all mysteriously disappeared online?), so while copying them into a document, I started reading a few things here and there, which turned into re-reading everything and reflecting on what God has done in the last year and a half of my life. Unlike my journals, which are filled with a lot of the complete garbage that comes from my gut reactions and unfiltered thinking*, most of what I'd written online were things I'd processed through a little more carefully, trying to look at situations from God's perspective and understand the theological implications of what was going on. Still, in re-reading myself, I noticed a distinctive brazen tone and snarky attitude in my writing. In some ways, I was impressed at how brash and honest I was able to be during that time - sharing very raw thoughts and emotions - but a part of me was also sad to see the sort of bitterness and frustration that my writing expressed. I almost deleted my blog entirely, wanting to start over on a new site, under a new pseudonym, now that I feel like I'm in such a different place.
I wondered how many more times in my life I was going to think that.
Seeing my "old" self in light of who I am today reminded me of a conversation I had with my cousin Mark earlier in the year. I was gushing - like actually, for real gushing about how swell I think my boyfriend is (I know, me...gushing...), and he said something to the effect of, "it's good to see that you're starting to come around." [Come around from what?] "...you know...you used to be so man-hating." Me? Man-hating!? I couldn't believe he'd said that.
But it's all very clearly communicated in my writing - not that I necessarily hated men during 2008, but by saying things like "I'm not sure if I believe in love" and discussing my frustrations with the culture of dating and relationships, I can see how people read that. Rather, I can see how my blunt discussions of dating and love revealed deeply seated heart-issues; I feared and idolized men, and I harbored a lot of hurt and resentment.
In a way, I think the relationship I'm in now has been a sort of taming of the shrew. Like Kate, I was sharp-tongued and quick tempered, at times even spurning the idea of marriage and family - hoping to quelch the longing for marriage that God had put in me because it wasn't convenient to desire a family and have none. Somewhere around June, I started to realize just how much I had changed and began praying for God to soften my heart. I felt that I was becoming maybe...oh...just...well, kind of...I mean...a little bit...uh...bitter...
I was Kate. But my Petruchio in this case was not a man. Hearing my prayers, it has been God working in my heart to massage it back into flesh. He has so graciously used my current relationship to bring to light many ways in which I had grown cold and afraid, ways in which I was looking for someone else to fulfill me and had not been trusting God to care for my heart. Not that I have by any means conquered these struggles, but I praise God that He keeps working in me each day to make me more like Jesus and less like the shrew I see riddled throughout my writing.
For this reason, I'm going to keep Esther as she is - because the very same writing that brings me to deep sadness over the idolatry in my life, also brings great joy. In exposing my sin and weakness, God is all the more glorious - because He knew (and knows) every desire in my heart and yet still loves me and forgives me for ALL of that sin.
"On Monday, I watched the last sun of 2007 set over the ocean. Being on the West Coast, where the day ends and the sun dies, I feel my age all the more. 2008 starts to settle in my bones as I wonder if the year ahead could possibly bring as much change as the one preceding it...I am constantly amazed when I think back over the years gone by. On the cusp of yet another, I am easily nostalgic and perhaps equally hopeful as I look to what '08 has in store--the course my life will take and the ways it will change me forever."
_____
*Aside - There is great worth to reading over my journals because they reveal the rawness of unedited sin. I haven't decided yet if I am going to do the "great marriage purge" and throw out my old life whenever I make that transition - surely it would be embarrassing if my husband or children ever read about all of the flagrant idols I pursued, but in some ways, it is just another testament to God's work in my life.
While reorganizing files on my computer the other day, I read all of 2008 here on Esther. I save all of my blog posts on my computer for posterity's sake (because I don't really trust the internet and what if they all mysteriously disappeared online?), so while copying them into a document, I started reading a few things here and there, which turned into re-reading everything and reflecting on what God has done in the last year and a half of my life. Unlike my journals, which are filled with a lot of the complete garbage that comes from my gut reactions and unfiltered thinking*, most of what I'd written online were things I'd processed through a little more carefully, trying to look at situations from God's perspective and understand the theological implications of what was going on. Still, in re-reading myself, I noticed a distinctive brazen tone and snarky attitude in my writing. In some ways, I was impressed at how brash and honest I was able to be during that time - sharing very raw thoughts and emotions - but a part of me was also sad to see the sort of bitterness and frustration that my writing expressed. I almost deleted my blog entirely, wanting to start over on a new site, under a new pseudonym, now that I feel like I'm in such a different place.
I wondered how many more times in my life I was going to think that.
Seeing my "old" self in light of who I am today reminded me of a conversation I had with my cousin Mark earlier in the year. I was gushing - like actually, for real gushing about how swell I think my boyfriend is (I know, me...gushing...), and he said something to the effect of, "it's good to see that you're starting to come around." [Come around from what?] "...you know...you used to be so man-hating." Me? Man-hating!? I couldn't believe he'd said that.
But it's all very clearly communicated in my writing - not that I necessarily hated men during 2008, but by saying things like "I'm not sure if I believe in love" and discussing my frustrations with the culture of dating and relationships, I can see how people read that. Rather, I can see how my blunt discussions of dating and love revealed deeply seated heart-issues; I feared and idolized men, and I harbored a lot of hurt and resentment.
In a way, I think the relationship I'm in now has been a sort of taming of the shrew. Like Kate, I was sharp-tongued and quick tempered, at times even spurning the idea of marriage and family - hoping to quelch the longing for marriage that God had put in me because it wasn't convenient to desire a family and have none. Somewhere around June, I started to realize just how much I had changed and began praying for God to soften my heart. I felt that I was becoming maybe...oh...just...well, kind of...I mean...a little bit...uh...bitter...
I was Kate. But my Petruchio in this case was not a man. Hearing my prayers, it has been God working in my heart to massage it back into flesh. He has so graciously used my current relationship to bring to light many ways in which I had grown cold and afraid, ways in which I was looking for someone else to fulfill me and had not been trusting God to care for my heart. Not that I have by any means conquered these struggles, but I praise God that He keeps working in me each day to make me more like Jesus and less like the shrew I see riddled throughout my writing.
For this reason, I'm going to keep Esther as she is - because the very same writing that brings me to deep sadness over the idolatry in my life, also brings great joy. In exposing my sin and weakness, God is all the more glorious - because He knew (and knows) every desire in my heart and yet still loves me and forgives me for ALL of that sin.
"On Monday, I watched the last sun of 2007 set over the ocean. Being on the West Coast, where the day ends and the sun dies, I feel my age all the more. 2008 starts to settle in my bones as I wonder if the year ahead could possibly bring as much change as the one preceding it...I am constantly amazed when I think back over the years gone by. On the cusp of yet another, I am easily nostalgic and perhaps equally hopeful as I look to what '08 has in store--the course my life will take and the ways it will change me forever."
- January 2, 2008
_____
*Aside - There is great worth to reading over my journals because they reveal the rawness of unedited sin. I haven't decided yet if I am going to do the "great marriage purge" and throw out my old life whenever I make that transition - surely it would be embarrassing if my husband or children ever read about all of the flagrant idols I pursued, but in some ways, it is just another testament to God's work in my life.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Joyfully Unemployed
Many of you know by now that through God-orchestrated circumstances, I was given the opportunity to leave my job and seek employment elsewhere. Though an apparently foolish career move in the eyes of this world (who quits a job in this economy without having something else lined up?), the situation presented itself as a floodlight on the narrow gate. God asked me to swallow the lump in my throat and charge through it. Leap and He'd catch me. So I did.
Now comes the doldrums of it all - struggling with the temptation to laziness or doubt. There's only a couple of hours worth of job searching that can be done each day, which leaves approximately 22 other hours to fill. Tempting to fear that I made the wrong move and what if God doesn't pull through? Tempting to do a lot of napping, internet browsing, and other senseless time-burning exercises. But I know that each day, each hour is a gift from the Lord, intended to be spent well on things that build His kingdom. No one burns good gifts like that.
This morning I was skimming back over some posts from earlier this summer, pleas for God to use me in in ways less corporate, that don't involve ladders and numbers and all things business. I wanted time for ministry and to use my gifts to help people. I felt trapped in a job that wanted me to "go somewhere" and "make something of myself" when God was telling me that I already had everything I needed for life and godliness. What a blessing to be reminded of God's faithfulness and wisdom in guiding my steps - to remember that my wonderful God gives good gifts to his children and works all things for good.
And so, because of the gospel, because Christ died to pay the penalty of my sins, I can rest in my relationship with God, who is now my Father, and trust that he will take care of money and the logistics of finding me a new job. In this phase of unemployment, I can seek ways to use my gifts and free time to bless others. And what a blessing - what a joy - to be free of previous restraints and to look forward to new responsibilities and new adventures that God has for me to pursue.
Now comes the doldrums of it all - struggling with the temptation to laziness or doubt. There's only a couple of hours worth of job searching that can be done each day, which leaves approximately 22 other hours to fill. Tempting to fear that I made the wrong move and what if God doesn't pull through? Tempting to do a lot of napping, internet browsing, and other senseless time-burning exercises. But I know that each day, each hour is a gift from the Lord, intended to be spent well on things that build His kingdom. No one burns good gifts like that.
This morning I was skimming back over some posts from earlier this summer, pleas for God to use me in in ways less corporate, that don't involve ladders and numbers and all things business. I wanted time for ministry and to use my gifts to help people. I felt trapped in a job that wanted me to "go somewhere" and "make something of myself" when God was telling me that I already had everything I needed for life and godliness. What a blessing to be reminded of God's faithfulness and wisdom in guiding my steps - to remember that my wonderful God gives good gifts to his children and works all things for good.
And so, because of the gospel, because Christ died to pay the penalty of my sins, I can rest in my relationship with God, who is now my Father, and trust that he will take care of money and the logistics of finding me a new job. In this phase of unemployment, I can seek ways to use my gifts and free time to bless others. And what a blessing - what a joy - to be free of previous restraints and to look forward to new responsibilities and new adventures that God has for me to pursue.
Student Quotes of the Day, Part 2
The 2nd and final (see following post) set of quotes from my students...
Brian: "Dude...I'm so buff, my elbows don't touch."
Brian: "Dude...I'm so buff, my elbows don't touch."
Denny: “It’s like my head it stuck between a rock and a hard place. Except it’s just two rocks.
Denny: “Why do you carry a Bible around? I mean I would understand if it was Harry Potter…”
Denny: [discussing his theory on making good grades] "The difference between an A and a B is a present."
[discussing wedding registries]
Me: “I got
Denny: “Dominoes? Who plays dominoes? I’d just play cards.”
Me: “Well then when you get married I’ll buy you a stack of cards.”
Denny: [offended, indignant] “Cards? Geez…I’d buy you an expensive bottle of wine!”
Lillian: [to Matt]: “Teacher, I don’t get you sometimes.”
Sonia Teacher: “Oh Denny, I’m only joking…”
Denny: “Well you aren’t funny. If you’re going to tell a joke, it should at least be funny.”
Denny: “Those librarians are sneaky!”
Meredith Teacher assigns fierce homework load involving a Roald Dahl story…
Shawn: “Aww….teacher I hate you…”
Meredith: “I’m ok with that.” [Walks out.]
Esther: “I am an athlete-student. And not the other way around.”
ESL student: “I don’t like Fall too because it’s gets cold and there are a lot of rain and my mom and I promised that I will do all the dishes for one week in the Fall and that’s why I don’t like…Fall.”
Sonia Teacher: “Viscous – do you know what that means?”
Esther: “Strait.”
Sonia: “No”
Esther: “Not kinky?”
Sonia: “Uh…no…”
Esther: “It sounds like it would be something dangerous. Like vicious.”
Matt Teacher: “[Meredith Teacher] already has a man. And he’s quite a man. The word ‘hunk’ comes to mind.”
...this involved me blushing and leaving the room.
Denny: “Oh gosh! I don’t want to watch white people dance!”
John: “When I was putting the sugar in my tea I fell asleep again and my hand fell in my tea and stayed there for a while…”
Sean: “I feel your pain. Actually, no I don’t. I’m just saying it ‘cause it sounds cool.”
Shawn: Are you a couple?
Meredith: Do you mean…am I in a couple? Or part of a couple…?
Shawn: Right.
Meredith: Yes.
Shawn: Aww – you have a boyfriend! That’s cute. What does he look like?
Julie: “I saw him! He’s tall.”
Shawn: “Is he ripped?”
Edward: “Is he white?”
Julie: “…and he’s blonde.”
Sean: “Does he have a tattoo of your face on his shoulder?!?”
...um, no. Thankfully.
Dennis: [learning that I’m leaving in a week] “We should start a boycott! …Or have a party. Your choice.”
Sean: [handing me a bar of soap] “Matt Teacher told me to give you this and tell you that I don’t know why it was in my pocket and it’s distracting the class.”
Esther: [regarding my leaving] “This is horrible. I’m gonna go home and freaking weep!”
Esther: “You don’t need one man. You could have a team!”
...that was a fun one to respond to.
Eunice: “Are you really leaving?”
Me: “Yes…weird huh?”
Eunice: “Why?”
- I explain -
Eunice: [not satisfied] “Teacher…is it really because you’re getting married…?”
...she wasn't the only one who thought that the only reason I could possibly leave Prep
was if I were getting married.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Christian One-Liners
Got these in an email from my mom. Some are a smidge sacrilegious, some quite amusing. We have such a strange and funny culture...
"Don't let your worries get the best of you. Remember, Moses started out as a basket case."
"Many folks want to serve God, but only as advisers."
"The good Lord didn't create anything without a purpose, but mosquitoes come close."
"Don't let your worries get the best of you. Remember, Moses started out as a basket case."
"Many folks want to serve God, but only as advisers."
"The good Lord didn't create anything without a purpose, but mosquitoes come close."
...for our sanctification, for establishing an ordered creation, to teach us patience, etc, etc.
"Opportunity may knock once, but temptation bangs on the front door forever."
"Quit griping about your church. If it was perfect, you couldn't belong"
"Quit griping about your church. If it was perfect, you couldn't belong"
...we should really use the word "gripe" more often. I find it a rather fittingly negative term.
"If a church wants a better pastor, it only needs to pray for the one it has."
"Some minds are like concrete - thoroughly mixed up and permanently set."
"Be ye fishers of men. You catch 'em - He'll clean 'em."
"Some minds are like concrete - thoroughly mixed up and permanently set."
"Be ye fishers of men. You catch 'em - He'll clean 'em."
...rather, He does all the work, and you show up dressed in fishing gear with your net.
"Forbidden fruits create many jams."
What did one strawberry say to the other strawberry?
If you weren't so fresh, we wouldn't be in this jam!!
-courtesy of Monzie Pasos
If you weren't so fresh, we wouldn't be in this jam!!
-courtesy of Monzie Pasos
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Student Quotes of the Day, Part 1
I've been collecting these over the last couple of months in a document on my desktop. Many of them you've probably seen if you're on my G-chat. But for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of enjoying them, here is a list of my favorite student quotes.
Tina: "Teacher, you look delicious."
Lisa: “Teacher, you look like a Stepford wife.”
Dennis (9th grader): "I want to see your boyfriend."
Meredith: "I don’t think he wants to see you..."
Dennis: "Man, you are both whack!"
Lillian: “These math jokes are lame.”
Dennis: [referring to his Life Skills teacher] "I’m gonna kill her."
Me: No you aren’t.
Dennis: Well, then I’m going to egg her car.
Me: And what would that accomplish?
Dennis: Pleasure.
*note: the above mentioned teacher was later fired for possession of illegal drugs.
Dennis was able to bring his grade up from a D to an A*
Richard: "Teacher, you should get married and have a baby so you don’t have to work here anymore."
Denny: [regarding Matt (Kleinhans) Teacher]: "He looks like a young version of Mr. Rodgers."
*Korean's don't generally know how to rock the sweater vest*
Lisa: [to Roz, regarding the reason she now has difficulty in school] "You are the reason I am this way!!"
*brilliant blame-shifting logic*
Phonetic spelling of "Brad Pitt" with a Korean accent: “Bread Pete” – Robby
In English class...
Dennis: [insults Richard, then, laughing] "I’m sorry."
Meredith: "You aren’t really sorry."
Dennis: "Yes I am…see I’m crying…"
Laura Teacher: "I think you just violated one of Ben Franklin’s virtues."
Sean, in dealing with the stress of writing a thesis statement: "I'm feeling light-headed."
Dennis: [discussing how he wanted to go to Matt Teacher’s wedding last year] “If you get married Teacher—whooo—I’m gonna stalk you!!”
Denny: "I miss being on top."
*meaning, he misses being an 8th grader, rather than lowly 9th...*
Matt: "When I got my AP test and saw that it was a 5--I just dropped it on the floor and was like - I. Am. A historian. Books should be written about me."
*humility + 1*
Dennis: [referring to dealing with acne] "My mom made me an appointment with a pediatrician and they took care of it."
Dennis: [to Sonia] "I thought I was dreaming when I saw Meredith." [to me] "...because you're so beautiful."
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Day in the Life
In case you've been curious why I don't post anymore, we are in week four of the summer program here at Prep Center, and it turns out that having a regular nine-to-six type job actually has made me more busy than before, leaving little time for writing anything other than G-chat status updates. But for your reading pleasure, here are a few random tidbits to give you a feel for what my day looks like above and beyond the generic duties of keeping track of students, teachers, and curriculum.
Things I Googled Today:
1. Smashing Pumpkins
2. Definition of a Participle
3. The distance between 644 Landfair and my house (1.9 miles)
4. Counseling jobs in Los Angeles
5. SAT testing policies
6. TAP passes for the Metro
Things I Taught Someone Today:
1. How to make egg drop soup - more specifically, how to drop said egg into the soup.
2. Why the word "tempted" is not past tense and therefore appropriate for a literary essay (see also above, number 2).
3. How to prioritize tasks when you have missing assignments that are over a week late in all of your classes.
Geek Out!!
Find the errors in the following example sentences for vocabulary words in The Princeton Review's 2006 edition of Cracking the New SAT:
"Many Jews left Russia and emigrated to Israel after it was founded in 1948."
"Lou's taste in music is eclectic because he listens to everything from rap to polka."
Regarding My Lunch (Half) Hour:
Number of Tuesdays in a row that I've had Chinese food for lunch: 4
Estimated number of Orange Chicken lunch specials I have ordered from China Wok: 27
Best fortune cookie prediction: "Alas! The onion you are eating is someone else's water lily."
Things I Googled Today:
1. Smashing Pumpkins
2. Definition of a Participle
3. The distance between 644 Landfair and my house (1.9 miles)
4. Counseling jobs in Los Angeles
5. SAT testing policies
6. TAP passes for the Metro
***
Things I Taught Someone Today:
1. How to make egg drop soup - more specifically, how to drop said egg into the soup.
2. Why the word "tempted" is not past tense and therefore appropriate for a literary essay (see also above, number 2).
3. How to prioritize tasks when you have missing assignments that are over a week late in all of your classes.
***
Geek Out!!
Find the errors in the following example sentences for vocabulary words in The Princeton Review's 2006 edition of Cracking the New SAT:
"Many Jews left Russia and emigrated to Israel after it was founded in 1948."
"Lou's taste in music is eclectic because he listens to everything from rap to polka."
***
Regarding My Lunch (Half) Hour:
Number of Tuesdays in a row that I've had Chinese food for lunch: 4
Estimated number of Orange Chicken lunch specials I have ordered from China Wok: 27
Best fortune cookie prediction: "Alas! The onion you are eating is someone else's water lily."
***
Teacher Quote of the Day:
"I love your outfit today. You look like Minnie Mouse. In a good way."
"I love your outfit today. You look like Minnie Mouse. In a good way."
***
Current project I'm working on: finding fun, non-touristy stuff to do in the San Francisco area for our college tour coming up in August.
Current project my assistant is working on: typing sets of 100 SAT vocabulary words and making corresponding quizzes.
Current project my boss is working on: creating a motivational seminar for incoming 8th and 9th graders based on The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
Current project my assistant is working on: typing sets of 100 SAT vocabulary words and making corresponding quizzes.
Current project my boss is working on: creating a motivational seminar for incoming 8th and 9th graders based on The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Don't know what I ate before bed last night...
They were from Russia, she told me, amongst other things--but I disregarded her warning nearly before she made it. My mom is the type who sends every email forward out there--I think perhaps she even hunts them down in her spare time--cautioning me against the latest hacker schemes or grocery store rapist tricks. I try to take her seriously because I know it's born out of a desire to care for and protect me, but when she launched into a discussion of her latest paranoia about hoards of foreign snakes, I tuned her out, deleting it like so much spam. I didn't hear her tell me that they would multiply endlessly, that they would hunt you relentlessly, or that the possession of their bite brought the sorts of horrors you only expect in the worst of nightmares.
Meanwhile I busied myself with young motherhood. At nearly one, Ben had just started to toddle around the house, and though that meant increasing opportunities to get himself into trouble, when he reached his little sausage arms up, hands grasping for me, I could feel my heart melting. I was going to be a good mom, so I would have to learn to mask that softness if I ever stood a chance at effective discipline. I had some time before he would be cognizant enough of his disobedience to warrant punishment, but not very much.
I had always wanted to have children, and despite the still fuzzy details of Ben's conception, I loved my little boy more than I even expected I would. I had moved back into my parents house, knowing I would need their help, but Ben was such a good baby I don't recall ever feeling tired, even in the dark of the night when he awoke hungry or after a long day of active play. Active, he was, a product of his mother, and he brought joy to our household in a way that babies often do.
It was at the end of a particularly lovely day when the events concerning my mother's warning began to unravel. I don't even remember putting Ben to bed that night, only that I found myself drifting to sleep in my own room, a sweet-smile resting over the day's closure.
The first one didn't startle me in the way you might expect, slinking its way over my stomach as it wrapped around my torso. It was as though my body had already resigned to its fate or perhaps was too lost in dreaming and thus unable to grasp the gravity of the situation. In my mind, I cannot separate the point between the first creature's advances and all of the others. As the snakes twisted their way around my limbs and tangled themselves into my hair, I slowly came to. It was strange and unreal, silly even, yet there they were, slithering and squeezing, an unusual weight confining me to my bed.
Before panic had an opportunity to set in, I assessed the situation. I would be fine as long as they didn't bite me, so slowly, I slid my way out of their grasp like emerging from some sort of spindly cocoon. I crept from my bed, head tilted to one side under the weight of the snakes that still squirmed through my hair. Hoping to shake them out, I remained hunched over as I backed towards the door. It seemed that the only way to loose the others was going to be to lob off all my hair, a fate I apparently feared more than death, since even in the duress of the situation, my vanity caused me to second guess that option. I chuckled to think I would rather risk leaving myself vulnerable to snake bites than lose my blonde locks. Luckily, it was not a decision I had to make. Once outside the door, I slammed it shut on all the other snakes, and the ones in my hair leapt from my head to slink back to their bretheren. My mother, whose intuition must have alerted her to the crisis, was waiting for me, and before the last snake made his retreat, he bit her toe, leaving what looked like a black bead underneath her skin.
"You have to cut it off!" she screamed, knowing better than I that the only way to prevent herself from becoming fully infected would be to immediately amputate the bitten area. She asked me to fetch a spoon, hoping that with a less violent tool, I would have the courage to carve it out for her. My stomach churned and I thought I would faint. I suppose my adrenaline was already depleted in helping me escape from my room, and there was none left for my current crisis. I felt my eyes rolling back into my head as the heavy anxiety threw me into a panic. My dad came in, and I fled the scene, allowing him to handle the operation. "They're calling for you," I heard him say as I left the room, and I could hear their hissing growing louder from behind the door. It was my name they whispered, a foul utterance that haunted me well after I was out of earshot.
And then, a silence. A calm. A scene change. Lights came up and there were colors and bright music and it was no longer a horror film but something like a pastoral or Dr. Seuss. Someone handed me Ben and I bounced him on my knees, assuming it was all over like a bad dream. He smiled and I smiled and I laughed. And then his face changed. And it all went dark again. Something was strange about him--Ben's eyes held an understanding far too advanced for a mere infant. Replacing the innocence of a child's wiles was the sort of scheming plot you'd expect from a fairy tale villian. He looked at me as if he knew more than me. His eyes had aged in the way of wisdom, and it was a dark wisdom. He'd been bitten. He was no longer my Ben but belonged to them. and if I didn't kill him, he was going to kill me.
Somewhere between the shifting and changing cinematics, my parents had returned to the room. I can't remember if I uttered my conclusion or if they just somehow understood.
"Do it quickly so there's no pain," my father urged. But knowing I hadn't the strength, he came to my aid. He took Ben into his lap, back against his chest, and set his large hands firmly around the little head. Ben's glare still pierced me, though he did not squirm or slither or try to reach for me. Entranced by how time muddied, how everything else blurred into the background, I could look nowhere but at the small child. Then, a sharp twist and a cracking I never want to remember.
The evil was gone, and then it was just Ben looking back at me, and then he was gone too.
My eyes swelled with tears as they locked on to my father's. I held Ben's little feet in my hands, feeling even smaller than they were. Like a child myself, I sought answers from my daddy with a statement that was really kind of a question. "I had a child once," I said.
"Yes, baby, yes you did." He offered me Ben to hold and I retracted. I couldn't--it wasn't him any longer and I was repulsed by his shell. But my father insisted, "you need to hold him one last time." And so I complied.
His little body was wet and putrid with death, his eyes as vacant as my own. I cradled the baby who was just a little too big to be cradled, lost in shock and fear and the nothingness of it all. In the whole, wide world, I knew of no other words: "I had a child once."
Meanwhile I busied myself with young motherhood. At nearly one, Ben had just started to toddle around the house, and though that meant increasing opportunities to get himself into trouble, when he reached his little sausage arms up, hands grasping for me, I could feel my heart melting. I was going to be a good mom, so I would have to learn to mask that softness if I ever stood a chance at effective discipline. I had some time before he would be cognizant enough of his disobedience to warrant punishment, but not very much.
I had always wanted to have children, and despite the still fuzzy details of Ben's conception, I loved my little boy more than I even expected I would. I had moved back into my parents house, knowing I would need their help, but Ben was such a good baby I don't recall ever feeling tired, even in the dark of the night when he awoke hungry or after a long day of active play. Active, he was, a product of his mother, and he brought joy to our household in a way that babies often do.
It was at the end of a particularly lovely day when the events concerning my mother's warning began to unravel. I don't even remember putting Ben to bed that night, only that I found myself drifting to sleep in my own room, a sweet-smile resting over the day's closure.
The first one didn't startle me in the way you might expect, slinking its way over my stomach as it wrapped around my torso. It was as though my body had already resigned to its fate or perhaps was too lost in dreaming and thus unable to grasp the gravity of the situation. In my mind, I cannot separate the point between the first creature's advances and all of the others. As the snakes twisted their way around my limbs and tangled themselves into my hair, I slowly came to. It was strange and unreal, silly even, yet there they were, slithering and squeezing, an unusual weight confining me to my bed.
Before panic had an opportunity to set in, I assessed the situation. I would be fine as long as they didn't bite me, so slowly, I slid my way out of their grasp like emerging from some sort of spindly cocoon. I crept from my bed, head tilted to one side under the weight of the snakes that still squirmed through my hair. Hoping to shake them out, I remained hunched over as I backed towards the door. It seemed that the only way to loose the others was going to be to lob off all my hair, a fate I apparently feared more than death, since even in the duress of the situation, my vanity caused me to second guess that option. I chuckled to think I would rather risk leaving myself vulnerable to snake bites than lose my blonde locks. Luckily, it was not a decision I had to make. Once outside the door, I slammed it shut on all the other snakes, and the ones in my hair leapt from my head to slink back to their bretheren. My mother, whose intuition must have alerted her to the crisis, was waiting for me, and before the last snake made his retreat, he bit her toe, leaving what looked like a black bead underneath her skin.
"You have to cut it off!" she screamed, knowing better than I that the only way to prevent herself from becoming fully infected would be to immediately amputate the bitten area. She asked me to fetch a spoon, hoping that with a less violent tool, I would have the courage to carve it out for her. My stomach churned and I thought I would faint. I suppose my adrenaline was already depleted in helping me escape from my room, and there was none left for my current crisis. I felt my eyes rolling back into my head as the heavy anxiety threw me into a panic. My dad came in, and I fled the scene, allowing him to handle the operation. "They're calling for you," I heard him say as I left the room, and I could hear their hissing growing louder from behind the door. It was my name they whispered, a foul utterance that haunted me well after I was out of earshot.
And then, a silence. A calm. A scene change. Lights came up and there were colors and bright music and it was no longer a horror film but something like a pastoral or Dr. Seuss. Someone handed me Ben and I bounced him on my knees, assuming it was all over like a bad dream. He smiled and I smiled and I laughed. And then his face changed. And it all went dark again. Something was strange about him--Ben's eyes held an understanding far too advanced for a mere infant. Replacing the innocence of a child's wiles was the sort of scheming plot you'd expect from a fairy tale villian. He looked at me as if he knew more than me. His eyes had aged in the way of wisdom, and it was a dark wisdom. He'd been bitten. He was no longer my Ben but belonged to them. and if I didn't kill him, he was going to kill me.
Somewhere between the shifting and changing cinematics, my parents had returned to the room. I can't remember if I uttered my conclusion or if they just somehow understood.
"Do it quickly so there's no pain," my father urged. But knowing I hadn't the strength, he came to my aid. He took Ben into his lap, back against his chest, and set his large hands firmly around the little head. Ben's glare still pierced me, though he did not squirm or slither or try to reach for me. Entranced by how time muddied, how everything else blurred into the background, I could look nowhere but at the small child. Then, a sharp twist and a cracking I never want to remember.
The evil was gone, and then it was just Ben looking back at me, and then he was gone too.
My eyes swelled with tears as they locked on to my father's. I held Ben's little feet in my hands, feeling even smaller than they were. Like a child myself, I sought answers from my daddy with a statement that was really kind of a question. "I had a child once," I said.
"Yes, baby, yes you did." He offered me Ben to hold and I retracted. I couldn't--it wasn't him any longer and I was repulsed by his shell. But my father insisted, "you need to hold him one last time." And so I complied.
His little body was wet and putrid with death, his eyes as vacant as my own. I cradled the baby who was just a little too big to be cradled, lost in shock and fear and the nothingness of it all. In the whole, wide world, I knew of no other words: "I had a child once."
Monday, April 20, 2009
Use for a Philosophy Degree
Random tidbit from Carreon's blog...
Read his other thoughts on philosophy here and here.
"And, if you happen to be Jewish or Christian, you are commanded to be a lover of wisdom (or in Greek, a “philosopher”): “Get wisdom … love her, and she shall keep thee” (Pro 4:5-6)."
Read his other thoughts on philosophy here and here.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
In Terms of the Past
I count nine stars in the night sky from my balcony tonight. I came outside to do some reading, but felt compelled to spend time in prayer instead. There's just something about those back lit palm trees that calm me down and get me thinking about life.
Amidst all the talk (well, reading at least) about what it means to a woman in Biblical terms, there was a nugget of truth that I'd like to stand by when it comes to how I define myself, not only as a woman, but in other ways in my life:
Amidst all the talk (well, reading at least) about what it means to a woman in Biblical terms, there was a nugget of truth that I'd like to stand by when it comes to how I define myself, not only as a woman, but in other ways in my life:
"If we define ourselves out of a reaction to bad experiences [like a precedent of male domination], we will be forever translating our pain in the past into new pain for ourselves and others in the present. We must define ourselves not by personal injury, not by fashionable hysteria, not even by personal variation and diversity, but by the suprapersonal pattern of sexual understanding taught here in Holy Scripture."
-Raymond C. Ortlund, Jr.
It's a particular challenge, but one worth striving for, to look into each new day as if the pain of the past has been erased. In terms of womanhood, this means I cannot look to the misinterpretations or misappropriations of Scripture to develop a reactionary stance of what I determine my purpose as a woman to be. Rather than come to my own conclusions then search around for Biblical support, it's important that I first seek what God's Word has to say, then build my life around that. In particular, one of my big questions has been whether or not my ideas of what it means to be a "helper" have developed out of application suggestions I've heard over the years that I canonized into my own laws of femininity. Have I confused scripturally mandated wifely duties (extreme examples being things like doing all the cleaning and cooking) with some person's thoughts on ways that a wife can show love and respect for a husband? If so, it's an important paradigm shift to make--obeying God's framework for femininity without allowing a legalistic set of rules to weigh me down. Freedom in the gospel.
In terms of everything else, I cannot be weighed down by mistakes, of either myself or others, or allow them to excuse certain behaviors. While it may be helpful for me to understand why I might have cultured certain tendencies due to upbringing or abuses, I cannot allow those things to hinder the way I behave today. Especially when it comes to sin, if I have repented and asked for forgiveness, I should act in light of a debt paid. And for those I've forgiven for sins against me, I must not hold a grudge. Dwelling on the past in this way encourages a defeatist mentality, one that belittles the power of God to transform lives and work in our weakness.
I think I'd be better off each day if I spend a few minutes the night before, clearing my head into the night sky out above the back alley of my building. It's a good time to process through the mistakes of the day, to reflect on God's victories, exhale the bad, and to meditate on what is true. Where I have failed, the gospel reminds me that I am forgiven. When I am tempted to despair, it is God to whom I look for my definition and worth.
In terms of everything else, I cannot be weighed down by mistakes, of either myself or others, or allow them to excuse certain behaviors. While it may be helpful for me to understand why I might have cultured certain tendencies due to upbringing or abuses, I cannot allow those things to hinder the way I behave today. Especially when it comes to sin, if I have repented and asked for forgiveness, I should act in light of a debt paid. And for those I've forgiven for sins against me, I must not hold a grudge. Dwelling on the past in this way encourages a defeatist mentality, one that belittles the power of God to transform lives and work in our weakness.
I think I'd be better off each day if I spend a few minutes the night before, clearing my head into the night sky out above the back alley of my building. It's a good time to process through the mistakes of the day, to reflect on God's victories, exhale the bad, and to meditate on what is true. Where I have failed, the gospel reminds me that I am forgiven. When I am tempted to despair, it is God to whom I look for my definition and worth.
"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
'therefore I will hope in him.'"
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
'therefore I will hope in him.'"
-Lamentations 3:22-24
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Bad Idea #2
It's Spring Break over here in LAUSD, so most of my kids are running out of steam, ready to leave at 7:30 when class lets out. Normally I stay until 9:00 for those ambitious types who need to squeeze in a few more chapters before they go home. But this week, few are feeling so driven.
While waiting for the last of the stragglers to leave, I got to reading some articles over at The Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood where I discovered some fodder for my current thoughts on career and the single woman. In "Three Bad Ideas," Frederica Mathewes-Green discusses her earlier days within the feminist movement and what she considers three of the most problematic ideas that feminism has encouraged through the last few decades, one of which she defines as "careerism." Her description of the feminist perspective on men and the resulting power struggle fought against them reveals an underlying problem with the ways in which we identify ourselves:
Two conclusions: 1. If men and women truly are created differently but with equal value, then there's no need to dismiss the unique nature of a woman, be it soft arms or soft emotions. And, 2. When it comes to careers, perhaps men and women have equally gotten it wrong--what leads to fulfillment is not power or success, vain ambitions or frivilous pursuits, but a heart that is daily transformed more and more into the likeness of Jesus Christ. More to come on that...
While waiting for the last of the stragglers to leave, I got to reading some articles over at The Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood where I discovered some fodder for my current thoughts on career and the single woman. In "Three Bad Ideas," Frederica Mathewes-Green discusses her earlier days within the feminist movement and what she considers three of the most problematic ideas that feminism has encouraged through the last few decades, one of which she defines as "careerism." Her description of the feminist perspective on men and the resulting power struggle fought against them reveals an underlying problem with the ways in which we identify ourselves:
"There is a pop-sociology concept called "imitating the oppressor," which means that when a group struggles for a new identity it tends to adopt the values of whoever it perceives to be holding power. Thus, anything that looked "feminine" made feminists uncomfortable, because in the opinion of men it was weak. Why we should think that men were smarter than our mothers and grandmothers was never clear. Most of the time, we acted as if men were made only a little higher than pond scum. Yet we accepted unquestioningly that a man's life was the ideal life. Everything about men seemed more serious, more important. We felt embarrassed at our soft arms, and betrayed by our soft emotions. Motherhood was a dangerous sidetrack, a self-indulgent hobby that could slow you down. That's the way men saw it, and who were we to argue? Whatever men treated with contempt was contemptuous; whatever men valued was valuable. And what men valued most was success....So feminism concluded that men, despite being idiots, were on-target about how we should live our lives...We were embarrassed by our female ancestors and envied the males. They had power, and we wanted power. We couldn't imagine any success except success in men's terms."
Two conclusions: 1. If men and women truly are created differently but with equal value, then there's no need to dismiss the unique nature of a woman, be it soft arms or soft emotions. And, 2. When it comes to careers, perhaps men and women have equally gotten it wrong--what leads to fulfillment is not power or success, vain ambitions or frivilous pursuits, but a heart that is daily transformed more and more into the likeness of Jesus Christ. More to come on that...
Monday, April 06, 2009
Feminine Disposition
I came into work this morning at 9:00, which for all of you working folk does not seem so odd unless I explain that I will not get off work around 5:00 like the rest of you, but will be staying here until 9:00 PM. I'm trying to have a positive attitude about that.
Since classes don't start until 10, I took this first hour (where we're really only open so that kids can get dropped off early) to skim through Titus. I halted at chapter 2:
"Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled. "
Since classes don't start until 10, I took this first hour (where we're really only open so that kids can get dropped off early) to skim through Titus. I halted at chapter 2:
"Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled. "
-Titus 2:3-5, emphasis mine
There are a lot of things I love about my job--where else would I get such a great opportunity to directly impact the lives of so many high school kids on such a personal level? Not only has this job offered some really incredible ministry opportunities, but I see how it has been training me for any number of potential jobs and roles I may fill in the future. I'm learning patience and kindness, how to manage and direct students and teachers alike, and a whole wealth of information about the Los Angeles educational system.
But, like any job, it has its downsides--today the most pressing of which is the daunting 12 hours I will spend in the office. Then I read something in Titus urging women to be working at home and I feel a deep sense of longing to quit my job and adopt a child. Today I don't feel like being a businessman. I want to be a woman.
In the book I'm reading (which I teased in the last post), the authors talk a lot about femininity in terms of having a certain "disposition" toward submission and so forth. They explain that in many circumstances in life you may be prevented from acting in your God-given identity as a woman, but it does not make you unfeminine. They give the example of a wife who is unable to submit to the authority of her husband because he is asking her to do something sinful--in this case, she is not behaving in an unfeminine way by not submitting, as long as she retains the disposition that desires to see her husband repent so that she may once again submit to his leadership.
I firmly believe that God has called me to work during this season of my life rather than stay home, but I find myself fighting a disposition that would prefer freedom for ministry than a 12 hour workday. My commute this morning was marked with a sort of sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I long to spend my day at home with a child or mentoring and counseling women in the church or making clothing or studying my Bible. I hope that these things will mark future seasons of my life, but for now, I know that I want to live excellently where God has called me.
The verse in Titus is likely not a mandate for women to stay at home, but rather an encouragement to avoid laziness, emphasis on "working" rather than "at home," but it still comes as a stark reminder that I today I'd rather be making my home and caring for a family than drudging away in corporate America. Is then, my feminine disposition to blame for my discontent? Perhaps.
But regardless, I desire in whatever state I am in, to be content, to honor God with my actions and attitudes and to remain joyful. After all, there is the gospel. I am redeemed and reconciled to God through the sacrifice of Jesus and in constant training to become more like Him. If God is really sovereign, I can trust that this season has purpose and find hope and joy all the way until 9:00 PM tonight.
"For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works."
But, like any job, it has its downsides--today the most pressing of which is the daunting 12 hours I will spend in the office. Then I read something in Titus urging women to be working at home and I feel a deep sense of longing to quit my job and adopt a child. Today I don't feel like being a businessman. I want to be a woman.
In the book I'm reading (which I teased in the last post), the authors talk a lot about femininity in terms of having a certain "disposition" toward submission and so forth. They explain that in many circumstances in life you may be prevented from acting in your God-given identity as a woman, but it does not make you unfeminine. They give the example of a wife who is unable to submit to the authority of her husband because he is asking her to do something sinful--in this case, she is not behaving in an unfeminine way by not submitting, as long as she retains the disposition that desires to see her husband repent so that she may once again submit to his leadership.
I firmly believe that God has called me to work during this season of my life rather than stay home, but I find myself fighting a disposition that would prefer freedom for ministry than a 12 hour workday. My commute this morning was marked with a sort of sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I long to spend my day at home with a child or mentoring and counseling women in the church or making clothing or studying my Bible. I hope that these things will mark future seasons of my life, but for now, I know that I want to live excellently where God has called me.
The verse in Titus is likely not a mandate for women to stay at home, but rather an encouragement to avoid laziness, emphasis on "working" rather than "at home," but it still comes as a stark reminder that I today I'd rather be making my home and caring for a family than drudging away in corporate America. Is then, my feminine disposition to blame for my discontent? Perhaps.
But regardless, I desire in whatever state I am in, to be content, to honor God with my actions and attitudes and to remain joyful. After all, there is the gospel. I am redeemed and reconciled to God through the sacrifice of Jesus and in constant training to become more like Him. If God is really sovereign, I can trust that this season has purpose and find hope and joy all the way until 9:00 PM tonight.
"For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works."
Titus 2:11-14
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
John Piper wants me to quit my job.
I just started reading the 1993 Christianity Today Book of the Year: Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: A Response to Evangelical Feminism. (edited by John Piper and Wayne Grudem) I'm one chapter in and already feeling a little under the microscope. What are the proper aspirations of a Biblically-minded woman? Piper's introduction lays out a definition of what it means to be feminine** and expands upon how that affects a woman's day to day choices.
First the definition: "At the heart of mature femininity is a freeing disposition to affirm, receive and nurture strength and leadership from worthy men in ways appropriate to a woman's differing relationships."
Piper takes care to articulate himself--to explain what he means and does not mean by several of those hot-button words (like "lead" and "nurture" and "receive") that have taken on many skewed connotations over the years and amongst differing cultures. I would highly encourage you to pick up the book for yourself so that you get the full argument, as I am clearly glossing over many of his important points to get to the part that really struck me.
That being, a particular charge (number 11 of 15 in his conclusion) to women:
"That you not assume that secular employment is a greater challenge or a better use of your life than countless opportunities of service and witness in the home, the neighborhood, the community, the church, and the world; that you not only pose the question: career or full time home-maker? but that you ask just as seriously: full time career or freedom for ministry? That you ask: Which would be greater for the Kingdom--to work for someone who tells you what to do to make his or her business prosper, or to be God's free agent dreaming your own dream about how your time and your home and your creativity could make God's business prosper? And that in all this you make your choices not on the basis of secular trends or upward lifestyle expectations, but on the basis of what will strengthen the faith of the family and advance the cause of Christ."
Those who know me understand that I surely do not have a beef with the idea of staying home for an appropriate season to nurture and raise my children. Dropping my job because my small children need me to care for them would be more of a joy than a burden for someone whose greatest "career" goal always meant family anyways. But what I do want to reckon with is how my femininity should be expressed as a single, self-supporting woman during this chapter in my life. Certainly, I must hold a job so I can pay rent, and I understand the concept that my current job is also included within my mission and ministry here in LA. So while I'm clearly not considering to put in my two-weeks notice, as I continue to read and reevaluate my perception of God's calling for women, I want to allow that to inform my trajectory in life. What do I chase after? How do I hone the gifts and passions that God has instilled within me? How can I pursue biblical femininity in my current stage of singleness? And how might that change when I step into the next chapter of life?
**Piper also includes a lengthy description of masculinity, which for the purposes of my posting, I won't get into. But for the curious, he defines it as this: "At the heart of mature masculinity is a sense of benevolent responsibility to lead, provide for, and protect women in ways appropriate to a man's differing relationships."
First the definition: "At the heart of mature femininity is a freeing disposition to affirm, receive and nurture strength and leadership from worthy men in ways appropriate to a woman's differing relationships."
Piper takes care to articulate himself--to explain what he means and does not mean by several of those hot-button words (like "lead" and "nurture" and "receive") that have taken on many skewed connotations over the years and amongst differing cultures. I would highly encourage you to pick up the book for yourself so that you get the full argument, as I am clearly glossing over many of his important points to get to the part that really struck me.
That being, a particular charge (number 11 of 15 in his conclusion) to women:
"That you not assume that secular employment is a greater challenge or a better use of your life than countless opportunities of service and witness in the home, the neighborhood, the community, the church, and the world; that you not only pose the question: career or full time home-maker? but that you ask just as seriously: full time career or freedom for ministry? That you ask: Which would be greater for the Kingdom--to work for someone who tells you what to do to make his or her business prosper, or to be God's free agent dreaming your own dream about how your time and your home and your creativity could make God's business prosper? And that in all this you make your choices not on the basis of secular trends or upward lifestyle expectations, but on the basis of what will strengthen the faith of the family and advance the cause of Christ."
Those who know me understand that I surely do not have a beef with the idea of staying home for an appropriate season to nurture and raise my children. Dropping my job because my small children need me to care for them would be more of a joy than a burden for someone whose greatest "career" goal always meant family anyways. But what I do want to reckon with is how my femininity should be expressed as a single, self-supporting woman during this chapter in my life. Certainly, I must hold a job so I can pay rent, and I understand the concept that my current job is also included within my mission and ministry here in LA. So while I'm clearly not considering to put in my two-weeks notice, as I continue to read and reevaluate my perception of God's calling for women, I want to allow that to inform my trajectory in life. What do I chase after? How do I hone the gifts and passions that God has instilled within me? How can I pursue biblical femininity in my current stage of singleness? And how might that change when I step into the next chapter of life?
**Piper also includes a lengthy description of masculinity, which for the purposes of my posting, I won't get into. But for the curious, he defines it as this: "At the heart of mature masculinity is a sense of benevolent responsibility to lead, provide for, and protect women in ways appropriate to a man's differing relationships."
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Country Music Theory
So you treat your love like a firefly, like it only gets to shine for a little while.
Catch it in a mason jar with holes in the top and run like hell to show it off...
Catch it in a mason jar with holes in the top and run like hell to show it off...
Apparently I'm a words person. You can play a song with the most distinctive drum beat or melody line and until they start singing, I will likely not know what the name of the song is. Every now and again I can catch a certain artist's musical style, but mostly, without the lyrics, I'm lost.
I think this is why country music still captivates me--an especially poignant song will send me back. I caught fireflies in a mason jar, had watermelon seed spitting contests, sat in the tailgate of a boy's truck down by the river and went to every high school football game. Country music is like sweet tea or biscuits and gravy...it brings you home.
There's an especially kitchy song that came out a couple of years ago by Trace Adkins called "Songs About Me." As music goes, it's fairly standard, and since it had little to do with love, requited or otherwise, I always fell for me into the category of "change the radio station." Then a few weeks ago, while driving home one night, pondering the particulars of my music interest, the chorus unwittingly came to mind (here typed, for those of you not interested in braving the YouTube video linked above):
Cause it's songs about me
and who I am
songs about loving and living
and good hearted women and family and God
yeah they're all just
songs about me
and who I am
songs about loving and living
and good hearted women and family and God
yeah they're all just
songs about me
Which really sums it up. Country music is songs about everyday America. For your home-grown types, the message rings much clearer than aspirations of "bling" or being "bootylicious" and fears of people "tryin to catch me ridin dirty." So even if I were to submit that Country tends to hit slightly below par when it comes to musicality, I'll remain a die hard fan because the songs tell the stories of my youth.
So, given the roots of my roots, it's no wonder I branched into musical softies like Joshua Radin or Damien Rice, why I'm fascinated with the lyrical wiles of Sara Bareilles or Jason Mraz (whose new cd is, by the way, amazing). It's the words they say, set to sound, that capture my attention. I cannot recall how many times a particular line or phrase in a song put a whole wealth of my feelings into words. It's the poetry I wish I could write, sung as I wish I could sing. Into certain cd's of mine are burned different eras of my life, and though the music may not relate to where I am now, I can listen, remember, and smile.
So, given the roots of my roots, it's no wonder I branched into musical softies like Joshua Radin or Damien Rice, why I'm fascinated with the lyrical wiles of Sara Bareilles or Jason Mraz (whose new cd is, by the way, amazing). It's the words they say, set to sound, that capture my attention. I cannot recall how many times a particular line or phrase in a song put a whole wealth of my feelings into words. It's the poetry I wish I could write, sung as I wish I could sing. Into certain cd's of mine are burned different eras of my life, and though the music may not relate to where I am now, I can listen, remember, and smile.
Monday, March 09, 2009
Out on a Limb
Scott, on his blog, linked to an article by John Piper in response to a recent "history-making" event in Minneapolis: the first girl wrestling in the state high-school competition. Like Scott, I'd encourage you to read the full article, but I wanted to expand on a particular part of it that struck me:
As women, we hem and haw about how we "deserve" to be treated such and such a way. We demand understanding when we are emotional and respect as the "fairer sex." Biblcially, men do have a high calling when it comes to how they are asked to treat women--to love them as Christ loved the church, who died and gave Himself up for her. (Though some may argue that this is only a mandate for how a husband must love his wife, it is unreasonable to imagine that a man will simply be able to flip a switch at the altar, but should rather be encouraged to develop the kind of perspective and patterns that he will need to practice in marriage.) All the while, women must not be so concerned with men's success or failure in this area that we overlook our own responsibility. While the article addresses how fathers can encourage their sons to handle this type of situation in a godly manner, women must also take responsibility for their scripturally mandated behavior. Part of encouraging men to treat women as the "weaker vessel," requires women to accept that label as part of our identity. We cannot simultaneously demand to be treated gently while claiming that we can take a hit. At best, it's confusing. Men are supposed to be aggressive with us in school, in business, on the wrestling mat...but not when it comes to relationships or sex or anytime that we just don't feel like being treated that way. Worst case, we're dappling in heresy. Nearly every verse in the Bible that talks about how men should treat women is paired with a passage about how women should respond to their men:
"Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything...However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband."
"Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord."
"Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives."
I realize that years of having these verses held against us, of having submission forced upon us, can make it difficult for a woman to see submission (defined here as an attitude of respect and honor that often leads to obedience) as a joy. And thus, many in our culture have rejected this idea. Just like Eve, we sought to take the reins. In more recent years, this has snowballed very quickly into men gladly giving up control...along with any notion of honoring or respecting the women who socially beat them down. We're in a tough spot, because on one hand, men must (because the Bible says to) treat women in a gentle and understanding way, and on the other, women should learn and practice the kind of respect and honor for men that they will one day offer to their husband. Though neither side's failure should be an excuse for the other to renege on their end of the bargain, it does become difficult to break out of the downward spiral. How do you respect someone who treats you unkindly? How do you offer gentleness to someone who constantly disrespects you?
Men...women...who's gonna go first?
"When the apostle of Jesus tells us to live with our wives “in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel” (1Peter 3:7), he dumps a truckload of wisdom that fathers should build into their sons.
There is a way to honor a woman. That’s our job as men. This honor “understands” something. It understands that women are the “weaker vessel.” This has nothing to do with less personal worth and in many cases not even with physical stamina. It has to do with pervasive realities that shape the way healthy societies work.
It means that we should raise sons to think of themselves as protectors. Tell them they should lay their lives down to protect girls. Help them know that God designed them to grow up to be a picture of Jesus in their marriage. Nurture the instinct of a boy to fight for girls not against them."
His point is strong and Biblical. In the end, when he calls boys to respond to the situation by refusing to wrestle a woman on the grounds of "My parents have taught me not to touch a girl that way. I think it would dishonor her," my heart warmed. Yes. Teach our men this, I nearly verbalize. And then...I miss the old south, the attitude of a southern gentleman, a certain genteel way of behavior that even in Texas, is starting to culturally slip away.As women, we hem and haw about how we "deserve" to be treated such and such a way. We demand understanding when we are emotional and respect as the "fairer sex." Biblcially, men do have a high calling when it comes to how they are asked to treat women--to love them as Christ loved the church, who died and gave Himself up for her. (Though some may argue that this is only a mandate for how a husband must love his wife, it is unreasonable to imagine that a man will simply be able to flip a switch at the altar, but should rather be encouraged to develop the kind of perspective and patterns that he will need to practice in marriage.) All the while, women must not be so concerned with men's success or failure in this area that we overlook our own responsibility. While the article addresses how fathers can encourage their sons to handle this type of situation in a godly manner, women must also take responsibility for their scripturally mandated behavior. Part of encouraging men to treat women as the "weaker vessel," requires women to accept that label as part of our identity. We cannot simultaneously demand to be treated gently while claiming that we can take a hit. At best, it's confusing. Men are supposed to be aggressive with us in school, in business, on the wrestling mat...but not when it comes to relationships or sex or anytime that we just don't feel like being treated that way. Worst case, we're dappling in heresy. Nearly every verse in the Bible that talks about how men should treat women is paired with a passage about how women should respond to their men:
"Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything...However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband."
Ephesians 5:22-24, 33 (in context)
"Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord."
"Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives."
1 Peter 3:1-2 (in context)
I realize that years of having these verses held against us, of having submission forced upon us, can make it difficult for a woman to see submission (defined here as an attitude of respect and honor that often leads to obedience) as a joy. And thus, many in our culture have rejected this idea. Just like Eve, we sought to take the reins. In more recent years, this has snowballed very quickly into men gladly giving up control...along with any notion of honoring or respecting the women who socially beat them down. We're in a tough spot, because on one hand, men must (because the Bible says to) treat women in a gentle and understanding way, and on the other, women should learn and practice the kind of respect and honor for men that they will one day offer to their husband. Though neither side's failure should be an excuse for the other to renege on their end of the bargain, it does become difficult to break out of the downward spiral. How do you respect someone who treats you unkindly? How do you offer gentleness to someone who constantly disrespects you?
Men...women...who's gonna go first?
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
To Pursue a Job Well Done
In times when my job seems overwhelming, I find myself seeking to understand the meaning and purpose behind it all. For if I am working to please my bosses--a task immeasurably daunting when their standard of perfection repeatedly finds me a failure--then this is certainly a hopeless cause. Fortunately, I know that God is the only one I need to please. Which, especially recently, has led me to several questions--how do I define God's standard for excellence in my work? If He is the one for whom I go to work each day, how am I to know if He considers my job well done? Can any of my days be counted for His glory?
Tonight I found myself sinfully grumbling that I have lost my motivation. I am quick to blame my superiors for not inspiring me, wondering why they are not more gracious with my mistakes.
I am thankful that this season affords me the opportunity to sit up late on my balcony processing through these things. Though I rarely hear God's voice audibly, I am convinced of the Holy Spirit's deep uttering in my heart--a language that speaks powerfully in a way I cannot explain beyond a sense of peace in knowing--as I slowly realize I am expecting the things of God from mortal men. Certainly, my bosses will never give the kind of grace that I have found in Christ. And they have no inspiration to offer because their secular world-view runs circles around itself trying to find meaning in grades and colleges and pleasing parents. It is only when I view my job in light of the gospel that I can begin to understand how anything I do could have value.
The clearest example I could find of this is in the way I treat the 50-some-odd kids I interact with each day. Though many of them are the sorts of model students that only grace a parent's dreams, quite a few of my kids are difficult to love. It's easy to become impatient with them because they so often deliberately sin against me--acting disrespectfully, lying, and disobeying the directions I give.
And this is the gospel made manifest. If I am to live as Jesus, it means loving even the most unlovable. After all, isn't that exactly what Christ has done for me? When I was acting in complete rebellion--refusing to listen to His advice, standing in opposition to the ultimate Teacher--God still looked at me in love.
In the jumble of words my bosses have offered, there is one piece of advice that still rings clearly: in this job, you have to be quick to forget. The idea resurfaces as I marvel at God's ability and choice to literally forget my sin--to remove it as far as the East is from the West. If His mercies are new each morning, then I can look to Him as the model for how to view these kids--in light of the grace God has shown me, I should be all the more forgiving, loving, patient, and kind.
Tonight I found myself sinfully grumbling that I have lost my motivation. I am quick to blame my superiors for not inspiring me, wondering why they are not more gracious with my mistakes.
I am thankful that this season affords me the opportunity to sit up late on my balcony processing through these things. Though I rarely hear God's voice audibly, I am convinced of the Holy Spirit's deep uttering in my heart--a language that speaks powerfully in a way I cannot explain beyond a sense of peace in knowing--as I slowly realize I am expecting the things of God from mortal men. Certainly, my bosses will never give the kind of grace that I have found in Christ. And they have no inspiration to offer because their secular world-view runs circles around itself trying to find meaning in grades and colleges and pleasing parents. It is only when I view my job in light of the gospel that I can begin to understand how anything I do could have value.
The clearest example I could find of this is in the way I treat the 50-some-odd kids I interact with each day. Though many of them are the sorts of model students that only grace a parent's dreams, quite a few of my kids are difficult to love. It's easy to become impatient with them because they so often deliberately sin against me--acting disrespectfully, lying, and disobeying the directions I give.
"For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person--though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die--but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Romans 5:6-8
And this is the gospel made manifest. If I am to live as Jesus, it means loving even the most unlovable. After all, isn't that exactly what Christ has done for me? When I was acting in complete rebellion--refusing to listen to His advice, standing in opposition to the ultimate Teacher--God still looked at me in love.
"We love because he first loved us."
1 John 4:19
In the jumble of words my bosses have offered, there is one piece of advice that still rings clearly: in this job, you have to be quick to forget. The idea resurfaces as I marvel at God's ability and choice to literally forget my sin--to remove it as far as the East is from the West. If His mercies are new each morning, then I can look to Him as the model for how to view these kids--in light of the grace God has shown me, I should be all the more forgiving, loving, patient, and kind.
"But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved--and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Chris Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."
Ephesians 2:4-10
And so, walk on.
Monday, February 02, 2009
For the Dreamer
Words that pierce my soul in this current season:
But the thing that I have realized among the mess of shattered dreams is that they are shattered not because they were too big, but because they were too small. God is ridding us of tiny, self-focused dreams and calling us to His unimaginable large God-glorifiying dream for us. As C.S. Lewis famously put it, the problem is that “we are far too easily pleased.”
((Read the full post at Scott's blog...
Life is certainly not linking up with the dreams I had for myself as a child--nor those I imagined just a few years or even months ago. It makes me wonder what I will be saying when I look back ten years from now.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Prayer
"Even the strongest among us will falter against the blast of the winds and the waves. Doubt, fear, and depression assault us all, no matter how much theology we've mastered. Hannah tells us by her life, as well as by her words, that the struggles that humble us are important regardless of the outcome. By her own account, 'those who stumbled are armed with strength' (1 Samuel 2:4). Hannah was strong because she had stumbled and fallen flat on her face."
~Carolyn Custis James, Lost Women of the Bible
In 1 Samuel, we read the story of Elkanah and his two wives, Peninnah and Hannah. While the former had borne him several children, Hannah was barren--the epoch of shame in that society--and suffered insult upon insult by "the other woman" about her value as a wife. In an episode of anguish, so intense that the priest thought Hannah was drunk, she petitions God for a child, promising to offer the son back to the Lord's service at the temple. Then, she continues her life, continues worshiping God, despite her pain. Against a hopeless situation, Hannah continues in her faith in God.
Right on cue, God delivers a miracle, reopens Hannah's womb and gives her a son. Once Samuel is weaned, Hannah makes good on her part of the bargain, giving her son to be raised in the temple and serve there. Her prayer in the temple was the subject of my meditation this morning...
Right on cue, God delivers a miracle, reopens Hannah's womb and gives her a son. Once Samuel is weaned, Hannah makes good on her part of the bargain, giving her son to be raised in the temple and serve there. Her prayer in the temple was the subject of my meditation this morning...
"My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in the Lord.
My mouth derides my enemies because I rejoice in your salvation.
There is none holy like the Lord; there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God.
Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed.
The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble bind on strength.
Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger.
The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn.
The Lord kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
The Lord makes poor and makes rich; he brings low and he exalts.
He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap
to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor.
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's, and on them he has set the world.
He will guard the feet of his faithful ones, but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness,
for not by might shall a man prevail.
The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces; against them he will thunder in heaven.
The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king
and exalt the power of his anointed."
My mouth derides my enemies because I rejoice in your salvation.
There is none holy like the Lord; there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God.
Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed.
The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble bind on strength.
Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger.
The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn.
The Lord kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
The Lord makes poor and makes rich; he brings low and he exalts.
He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap
to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor.
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's, and on them he has set the world.
He will guard the feet of his faithful ones, but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness,
for not by might shall a man prevail.
The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces; against them he will thunder in heaven.
The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king
and exalt the power of his anointed."
~1 Samuel 2:1b-10
Monday, January 19, 2009
How I Lost My Appetite for Chocolate for a Good Part of 7th Grade
"This, ladies, is your heart."
Our youth leader held up a piece of chocolate for her demonstration. It was week one in our "dating" series and at 7th grade, most of us were just hitting the boy-crazy phase. Perfect timing...lets dwell on boys in our Bible study--what could be better than justifying a way to merge God with my desire for a boyfriend. I was sold.
"So let's say you are going to start dating a boy," she began, "and you guys hold hands--it's the first time you've ever held hands with a boy and it's really exciting, right?"
We nod, even though many of us,myself included, don't really know what that's actually like. She takes a small nibble from the top of the chocolate heart.
"So now you've given that little piece of yourself to this boy--he's the first to hold your hand."
We wait for what's next.
"So then let's say you start hanging out a lot more and you start to share a lot of your emotions with him..."
Another small bite out of the heart.
"He now has that little piece of your heart...and then let's say you've been dating a little while and he finally kisses you..."
Bite.
From the back of the room, someone giggles a little, but I have enough wherewithal to know that something about this isn't really quite funny. Her tone of resentment builds.
"So now you see what you have of your heart...some pieces are missing because you gave those away to this boy..."
I'm not comfortable with the glimmer of crazy that flashes across her eyes. Some others are starting to clue in. We career Christians are taught to look for the turn in any analogy, and right on cue, all hell breaks loose.
"So then let's say you guys start doing just a little more than kissing..."
A more rabid bite.
"...and he's touching you in ways that are not appropriate..."
Teeth sinking, chocolate ripped away.
"...and then eventually you have SEX with him!!"
Bite! Bite! Bite!!
No one is smiling any longer as we stare horrified at the lump of chocolate and saliva that lays in her hand, running down her fingers. A stray drop lands on the floor, ignored by the intensity of the situation. Our faces are stone and terror as we listen to her heavy breathing. A worldview shift. In this moment, we are terrified of the opposite sex.
Her point: anything you do with a boy who is not your husband is going to cause you grief when you are married, so be careful how you date and don't give pieces of your heart away haphazardly.
I won't fault those Junior High dating lessons, because I think they were both well-intentioned and useful for angsty pre-teens who clearly did not have the maturity to handle themselves well in relationships. Like kissing dating goodbye, there are certain seasons in life where these types of principles are useful. It's good to be cautious in dealing with the opposite sex because young people are often reckless and can end up causing a lot of unnecessary harm through bad dating practices.
But as I've gotten older, I've had to re-evaluate what it means to "guard my heart." I noticed that it was founded in some very un-biblical ideas--I had taken this mandate about preparing for marriage and skewed it into the idea that I would somehow come into a relationship damaged and that it would be disappointing for my spouse who probably deserved better but would take pity on me anyways. Worse, I had taken to guarding myself as a means of self-preservation, an utterly selfish preservation. I fashioned a godly-sounding excuse for avoiding vulnerability and transparency in my relationships with guys, and as a result I had kept things shallow with most people. I was judgemental, scared, silly and downright sinful.
It wasn't until recently that I started to look back at this idea of "guarding my heart" and ask myself where the maxim came from. While the principle seemed biblical--even after I'd stripped away my misinterpretation and insecurity about it--I wanted to know what exact part of scripture it was based on. Then I found it...
This is elaborated in the Matthew Henry commentary:
"Keep thy heart with all diligence. God, who gave us these souls, gave us a strict charge with them: Man, woman, keep thy heart; take heed to thy spirit, Deu. 4:9. We must maintain a holy jealousy of ourselves, and set a strict guard, accordingly, upon all the avenues of the soul; keep our hearts from doing hurt and getting hurt, from being defiled by sin and disturbed by trouble; keep them as our jewel, as our vineyard; keep a conscience void of offense; keep out bad thoughts; keep up good thoughts; keep the affections upon right objects and in due bounds. Keep them with all keepings (so the word is); there are many ways of keeping things—by care, by strength, by calling in help, and we must use them all in keeping our hearts; and all little enough, so deceitful are they, Jer. 17:9. Or above all keepings; we must keep our hearts with more care and diligence than we keep any thing else. We must keep our eyes (Job 31:1), keep our tongues (Ps. 34:13), keep our feet (Eccl. 5:1), but, above all, keep our hearts. 2. A good reason given for this care, because out of it are the issues of life. Out of a heart well kept will flow living issues, good products, to the glory of God and the edification of others. Or, in general, all the actions of the life flow from the heart, and therefore keeping that is making the tree good and healing the springs. Our lives will be regular or irregular, comfortable or uncomfortable, according as our hearts are kept or neglected."
Meaning, guarding my heart has less to do with how I interact in relationships with men (though this is involved) but in how I behave overall. I should have an attitude that guards against evil...that does not allow myself to dwell on any sinful thing, but meditate on whatever is pure...
Our youth leader held up a piece of chocolate for her demonstration. It was week one in our "dating" series and at 7th grade, most of us were just hitting the boy-crazy phase. Perfect timing...lets dwell on boys in our Bible study--what could be better than justifying a way to merge God with my desire for a boyfriend. I was sold.
"So let's say you are going to start dating a boy," she began, "and you guys hold hands--it's the first time you've ever held hands with a boy and it's really exciting, right?"
We nod, even though many of us,myself included, don't really know what that's actually like. She takes a small nibble from the top of the chocolate heart.
"So now you've given that little piece of yourself to this boy--he's the first to hold your hand."
We wait for what's next.
"So then let's say you start hanging out a lot more and you start to share a lot of your emotions with him..."
Another small bite out of the heart.
"He now has that little piece of your heart...and then let's say you've been dating a little while and he finally kisses you..."
Bite.
From the back of the room, someone giggles a little, but I have enough wherewithal to know that something about this isn't really quite funny. Her tone of resentment builds.
"So now you see what you have of your heart...some pieces are missing because you gave those away to this boy..."
I'm not comfortable with the glimmer of crazy that flashes across her eyes. Some others are starting to clue in. We career Christians are taught to look for the turn in any analogy, and right on cue, all hell breaks loose.
"So then let's say you guys start doing just a little more than kissing..."
A more rabid bite.
"...and he's touching you in ways that are not appropriate..."
Teeth sinking, chocolate ripped away.
"...and then eventually you have SEX with him!!"
Bite! Bite! Bite!!
No one is smiling any longer as we stare horrified at the lump of chocolate and saliva that lays in her hand, running down her fingers. A stray drop lands on the floor, ignored by the intensity of the situation. Our faces are stone and terror as we listen to her heavy breathing. A worldview shift. In this moment, we are terrified of the opposite sex.
Her point: anything you do with a boy who is not your husband is going to cause you grief when you are married, so be careful how you date and don't give pieces of your heart away haphazardly.
I won't fault those Junior High dating lessons, because I think they were both well-intentioned and useful for angsty pre-teens who clearly did not have the maturity to handle themselves well in relationships. Like kissing dating goodbye, there are certain seasons in life where these types of principles are useful. It's good to be cautious in dealing with the opposite sex because young people are often reckless and can end up causing a lot of unnecessary harm through bad dating practices.
But as I've gotten older, I've had to re-evaluate what it means to "guard my heart." I noticed that it was founded in some very un-biblical ideas--I had taken this mandate about preparing for marriage and skewed it into the idea that I would somehow come into a relationship damaged and that it would be disappointing for my spouse who probably deserved better but would take pity on me anyways. Worse, I had taken to guarding myself as a means of self-preservation, an utterly selfish preservation. I fashioned a godly-sounding excuse for avoiding vulnerability and transparency in my relationships with guys, and as a result I had kept things shallow with most people. I was judgemental, scared, silly and downright sinful.
It wasn't until recently that I started to look back at this idea of "guarding my heart" and ask myself where the maxim came from. While the principle seemed biblical--even after I'd stripped away my misinterpretation and insecurity about it--I wanted to know what exact part of scripture it was based on. Then I found it...
"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."
--Proverbs 4:23
"Above all else," I marvelled. Them's fightin' words. So whatever it means to guard my heart, I better take this seriously. But beyond the mandate to guard my heart vehemently, the verse didn't really explain what I was supposed to be doing with such vigor. Luckily, I have enough Bible training to know better than to isolate a verse out of context; rarely does the Bible work with one-liners, so I looked to the surrounding verses for clarity. Turns out this verse comes in the context of a young man being encouraged to pursue wisdom in his life, avoid wickedness, and consider his steps carefully. They weren't talking about dating and marrying well. Hmm.This is elaborated in the Matthew Henry commentary:
"Keep thy heart with all diligence. God, who gave us these souls, gave us a strict charge with them: Man, woman, keep thy heart; take heed to thy spirit, Deu. 4:9. We must maintain a holy jealousy of ourselves, and set a strict guard, accordingly, upon all the avenues of the soul; keep our hearts from doing hurt and getting hurt, from being defiled by sin and disturbed by trouble; keep them as our jewel, as our vineyard; keep a conscience void of offense; keep out bad thoughts; keep up good thoughts; keep the affections upon right objects and in due bounds. Keep them with all keepings (so the word is); there are many ways of keeping things—by care, by strength, by calling in help, and we must use them all in keeping our hearts; and all little enough, so deceitful are they, Jer. 17:9. Or above all keepings; we must keep our hearts with more care and diligence than we keep any thing else. We must keep our eyes (Job 31:1), keep our tongues (Ps. 34:13), keep our feet (Eccl. 5:1), but, above all, keep our hearts. 2. A good reason given for this care, because out of it are the issues of life. Out of a heart well kept will flow living issues, good products, to the glory of God and the edification of others. Or, in general, all the actions of the life flow from the heart, and therefore keeping that is making the tree good and healing the springs. Our lives will be regular or irregular, comfortable or uncomfortable, according as our hearts are kept or neglected."
Meaning, guarding my heart has less to do with how I interact in relationships with men (though this is involved) but in how I behave overall. I should have an attitude that guards against evil...that does not allow myself to dwell on any sinful thing, but meditate on whatever is pure...
"Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, thing about these things. What you have learned and received and seen in me--practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you."
--Philippians 4:8-9
Saturday, January 17, 2009
"So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love..."
Relentless, like a child, I am learning to ask, "why?"
In the past week or so, I've bitten back the urge to admit that I really need some encouragement. I hate that the seeming identity of a woman is marred by her nagging infatuation with being validated. And so, I find my desire to be built up quite deplorable, as it seems to be on par with the short skirts and bar scene where I would vie for the attention of a man to assure myself of worth. I'm finding a deep dissatisfaction with the excuse, "that's just how women are," and wish I could pick God's brain over a pint. What is Biblical when it comes to the identity of a woman, or the identity of a person in general? Where is the logical explanation for my actions? And if there is something inherently sinful about my behavior, despite whether it is "natural," should I not therefore take all measures to root it out?
The question: why do I need to be encouraged? Is this really a need or some selfish crutch on which I've learned to lean for support?
The book of Acts, and consequently the epistles of the New Testament, are full of examples of Jesus' disciples and followers traveling to early churches and offering encouragement for the believers there:
"And when [the believers in Antioch] had read [the letter], they rejoiced because of its encouragement. And Judas and Silas, who were themselves prophets, encouraged and strengthened the brothers with many words." (Acts 15:31-32, see also 16:40, 18:27, 20:1-2)
In lieu of his being able to come to the churches directly, Paul's letters also function to encourage believers. Though full of instruction and rebuke, Paul opens by reminding the believers of their identity (often calling them "saints," which is to say, made holy in Christ) and how, specifically he has been encouraged by hearing about them. (Eph. 1:15-16, 1 Cor. 1:4-8, 2 Tim. 1:3-7)
In Romans, Paul expresses a desire that they "would be mutually encouraged by each other's faith" (1:12), then later exhorts them to look toward scripture for their hope, hope in a God who is identified as a source of endurance and encouragement:
"For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Rom 15:4-6).
In 1 Thessalonians, Paul explains that because the end is drawing near, we should be encouraging each other with the hope of Christ's second coming (4:18). He then explains that since the Day of the Lord is coming, we should not sleep, but prepare ourselves to fight, "having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation" (5:8) He concludes, assuming that this will be a hard road:
"Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing" (5:11).
All that to say, encouragement is probably necessary if scripture is riddled with it. Though it is clearly not the only good thing--most of the content in the letters in the New Testament are devoted to instruction, admonishing believers to pursue holiness at whatever the cost--it seems fair to assume that encouragement within the church body is both healthy and helpful. Still, it does not answer my first question--why do we claim to need it? Why do we keep needing it over and over and over again? I can't help but ashamedly empathize with the Israelites when they constantly doubt that God is going to pull off what He promises to do--how often God laments over how His people have forgotten Him. To my dismay, I, too, am quick to forget. I don't know why my brain seems wired that way and why, if I were just reminded yesterday of God's promises (or five minutes ago), I "need" to hear it again.
I emailed my parents, seeking some clarity, and got a lengthy response from my mom, quoting some things that she was reading and verses that she turns to when she is tempted by discouragement. She ended the email with this:
" I love you, Meredith. You are an amazing, strong, wise, beautiful young woman, and the holy, precious, righteous, forgiven, redeemed, loved, eternally saved child of God, the Heavenly Father...."
What is it about those words that have the power to quell the rising panic that I keep pushing down below my stomach, to hide somewhere entangled within--or perhaps entangling--my intestines? Does my comfort stem from a fear of man--do I so highly regard the approval of my mother that her patting me on the head holds more weight than reading truth in scripture? I wouldn't put it past my sinful self to hold to an inkling of these things, but more often than not, it's the way my parents encourage me that will transform my outlook.
I have been uniquely blessed with parents who love the Lord. Though I am certain they have been disappointed in me at times, they are quick to assure me of my value in Christ. They will note when I'm wrong, but rather than dwell there, they are quick to point me upwards, reminding me in my weakness to rely on God for strength.
That said, being called "amazing" or "beautiful" would be utterly empty had my mother not raised me to understand that any good within me is the work of Christ. If there is any strength in me, it is because God has made me strong. Any wisdom, I can attribute to the Holy Spirit opening my eyes. Any beauty, intended to reflect the glory of the Lord. She follows it up with a laundry list of other attributes of my identity as it is presented in scripture, helping my eyes focus where they belong. My mom realizes what I hope to practice: encouragement should come in Christ--not merely puffing someone up with senseless flattery. The kind of encouragement that we see in scripture is reminding each other of God's triumph to come, looking back at all He has blessed us with, meditating on His grace to forgive even the worst of our sins, and reflecting on the hope that it's worth it to wait up into the night and be on guard and fight for godliness. To dwell on God in this way is honoring and provides a peace and joy that is foreign to this world.
So if that is encouragement, then whether I really "need" it or not, I hope to surround myself with people who offer it freely and look for ways to give it in return.
In the past week or so, I've bitten back the urge to admit that I really need some encouragement. I hate that the seeming identity of a woman is marred by her nagging infatuation with being validated. And so, I find my desire to be built up quite deplorable, as it seems to be on par with the short skirts and bar scene where I would vie for the attention of a man to assure myself of worth. I'm finding a deep dissatisfaction with the excuse, "that's just how women are," and wish I could pick God's brain over a pint. What is Biblical when it comes to the identity of a woman, or the identity of a person in general? Where is the logical explanation for my actions? And if there is something inherently sinful about my behavior, despite whether it is "natural," should I not therefore take all measures to root it out?
The question: why do I need to be encouraged? Is this really a need or some selfish crutch on which I've learned to lean for support?
The book of Acts, and consequently the epistles of the New Testament, are full of examples of Jesus' disciples and followers traveling to early churches and offering encouragement for the believers there:
"And when [the believers in Antioch] had read [the letter], they rejoiced because of its encouragement. And Judas and Silas, who were themselves prophets, encouraged and strengthened the brothers with many words." (Acts 15:31-32, see also 16:40, 18:27, 20:1-2)
In lieu of his being able to come to the churches directly, Paul's letters also function to encourage believers. Though full of instruction and rebuke, Paul opens by reminding the believers of their identity (often calling them "saints," which is to say, made holy in Christ) and how, specifically he has been encouraged by hearing about them. (Eph. 1:15-16, 1 Cor. 1:4-8, 2 Tim. 1:3-7)
In Romans, Paul expresses a desire that they "would be mutually encouraged by each other's faith" (1:12), then later exhorts them to look toward scripture for their hope, hope in a God who is identified as a source of endurance and encouragement:
"For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Rom 15:4-6).
In 1 Thessalonians, Paul explains that because the end is drawing near, we should be encouraging each other with the hope of Christ's second coming (4:18). He then explains that since the Day of the Lord is coming, we should not sleep, but prepare ourselves to fight, "having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation" (5:8) He concludes, assuming that this will be a hard road:
"Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing" (5:11).
All that to say, encouragement is probably necessary if scripture is riddled with it. Though it is clearly not the only good thing--most of the content in the letters in the New Testament are devoted to instruction, admonishing believers to pursue holiness at whatever the cost--it seems fair to assume that encouragement within the church body is both healthy and helpful. Still, it does not answer my first question--why do we claim to need it? Why do we keep needing it over and over and over again? I can't help but ashamedly empathize with the Israelites when they constantly doubt that God is going to pull off what He promises to do--how often God laments over how His people have forgotten Him. To my dismay, I, too, am quick to forget. I don't know why my brain seems wired that way and why, if I were just reminded yesterday of God's promises (or five minutes ago), I "need" to hear it again.
I emailed my parents, seeking some clarity, and got a lengthy response from my mom, quoting some things that she was reading and verses that she turns to when she is tempted by discouragement. She ended the email with this:
" I love you, Meredith. You are an amazing, strong, wise, beautiful young woman, and the holy, precious, righteous, forgiven, redeemed, loved, eternally saved child of God, the Heavenly Father...."
What is it about those words that have the power to quell the rising panic that I keep pushing down below my stomach, to hide somewhere entangled within--or perhaps entangling--my intestines? Does my comfort stem from a fear of man--do I so highly regard the approval of my mother that her patting me on the head holds more weight than reading truth in scripture? I wouldn't put it past my sinful self to hold to an inkling of these things, but more often than not, it's the way my parents encourage me that will transform my outlook.
I have been uniquely blessed with parents who love the Lord. Though I am certain they have been disappointed in me at times, they are quick to assure me of my value in Christ. They will note when I'm wrong, but rather than dwell there, they are quick to point me upwards, reminding me in my weakness to rely on God for strength.
That said, being called "amazing" or "beautiful" would be utterly empty had my mother not raised me to understand that any good within me is the work of Christ. If there is any strength in me, it is because God has made me strong. Any wisdom, I can attribute to the Holy Spirit opening my eyes. Any beauty, intended to reflect the glory of the Lord. She follows it up with a laundry list of other attributes of my identity as it is presented in scripture, helping my eyes focus where they belong. My mom realizes what I hope to practice: encouragement should come in Christ--not merely puffing someone up with senseless flattery. The kind of encouragement that we see in scripture is reminding each other of God's triumph to come, looking back at all He has blessed us with, meditating on His grace to forgive even the worst of our sins, and reflecting on the hope that it's worth it to wait up into the night and be on guard and fight for godliness. To dwell on God in this way is honoring and provides a peace and joy that is foreign to this world.
So if that is encouragement, then whether I really "need" it or not, I hope to surround myself with people who offer it freely and look for ways to give it in return.
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