I have spent pretty much all of today immersed in depression. I felt it in my heart, my head, read it with my eyes, listened to a talk about depression, cried tears related to depression, craved (and ate) sugar because of depression. It's been rolling over and through me in wave after wave.
I felt raw all day. Last night I cried and stayed up too late trying to sort out how I felt. Today I read blog after blog about depression. When a beloved actor commits suicide, people share all their thoughts about mental illness, even the ones that are ignorant and hurtful. People who should have just listened spoke and caused harm instead of healing.
I've been listening to Jason Gray's latest album for the last few days. He doesn't really have a unique sound. He fits right in with the typical Christian pop music melody-wise. It's his lyrics that make him stand out from the crowd. His songs are the most honest songs I've ever heard.
I keep holding on to the lyrics from the end of this song: "You don't even have to speak/Just sit with me in the ashes here/And together we can pray for peace/To the one acquainted with our grief." It's just the worst when I risk being vulnerable, take off my mask, and let someone know how I've really been doing, how much depression has really been hurting me, and they try to fix it or they brush it off. Sometimes more than anything I just want a friend to bring me some ice cream and sit with me while we watch a couple episodes of Friends. I just want someone to be there, to sit with me in the pain, to walk beside me as I try to make it long enough for it to get better.
I've been feeling incredibly lonely over the past few months. I've been fighting depression mostly by myself. I've had long-distance support from my best friend who lives on the West Coast, and of course my therapist helps. But I'm still left alone most of the time. I was thinking tonight that fighting depression is like training for sports competition. I should disclose that my only experience with playing sports outside of gym class in high school was when I played flag football in college, so the analogy probably isn't perfect. But it's fourth and goal and I'm going for it (I'm so full of sports knowledge!).
I spend all day every day training (fighting depression). I know that I need help to know how to train better, more efficiently, so I hired a coach (counselor/therapist). He gives advice, educates, cheers me on. It's a special kind of relationship, but it's professional. I need more help than just one person can give me, more support, so I've sought out some teammates, as it were (other people who are walking their own journey of mental health). I've attended a depression support group a few times, and it is so encouraging to know I'm not the only one going through this. So now I feel like there are other people on the field who are working towards the same goal I am, and if we help each other we can all get closer to the goal (making it through each day, getting to a place where we feel more in control of our mental illness). What's missing are fans (friends). Fans just show up and cheer on the athletes. They're supportive even though they can't hop on the field and play the game for me. This is a game where critics are not welcome, but fans are deeply appreciated. I keep looking up at the stands hoping for someone to smile and wave at me, cheering me on, but the stands are empty. My family loves me, and I love them dearly, but they don't live near me. It's like they're watching on TV; they're cheering me on, but it's not the same as watching the game live. The thing about fans that is so great is that they're there only if they want to be. I pay my coach. He's totally on my team, helping me, cheering me on, but it's different. I want people to choose to root for me just because they care about me and believe in me. People who are actively in my life because they live here and they like me.
So all these thoughts and feelings have been rolling around in my head. I'm trying to sort out my faith in the midst of feeling like church is harming more than helping. I started trying to connect with God in different ways and discovered that I love going to mass at the catholic cathedral a mile from my apartment. It brings peace to my soul. It feels a little weird to share all this, to talk about how much depression hurts, to talk about how I'm trying new things which is scary but helpful. Tonight I was at a talk on depression, and after the speaker shared his own story of dealing with depression and anxiety, he shared some scripture. He talked about how the Bible is testimony, and there is tension between the testimonies it contains. The primary testimony is how God relates to the people with whom he chooses to be in relationship, how he sees them, rescues them, loves them. And there are testimonies that are in direct opposition to that primary testimony, people who acknowledge how God has shown up for their ancestors, but they also cry out asking why God has forsaken them. Thinking about how the Bible is a collection of people sharing how they have or haven't encountered God made me want to testify the truth of my life right now. I felt compelled to share more about what depression is like for me, what trying to find God and faith in the midst of the pain is like. For years now I've hoped that somehow my experiences, my story, my testimony could somehow help someone else. They can't do that if I keep everything to myself and hide behind a mask of "I'm fine," so for now this blog feels like a safe way to experiment with sharing.
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Monday, April 14, 2014
Rubber Ducks and Anchors
I was thinking about my rubber duck today and had an epiphany.
One of my greatest flaws is my tendency to get swept away by my emotions. I don't mean that in some sort of romantic, happy way. I get swept away in a way that makes it seem like when I feel something, that feeling trumps everything else. When I feel alone, that feeling tends to trump the truth that God is always with me. When I feel worthless, it trumps the truth that Jesus paid the highest price for my salvation.
I have been working hard to improve in this area, and I think especially in the last few months I've started to see some maturity there. I'd describe my life in 2014 as spiritually turbulent. I've been asking really hard questions and finding no satisfactory answer. I've been reading scripture that I can't make sense of and that makes me feel angry and sad. I've cried during sermons and stood silent during worship, unable to utter words that I don't know if I mean. And through all this I've been faithfully praying and reading my Bible, serving in church regularly, having deep conversations with friends, pushing through this chaotic storm just trying to hang on until the waters calm.
This brings me to the rubber duck. A few years ago a friend of mine was being supportive through a similar time of spiritual turbulence. She encouraged me to just keep floating on the water and ride out the storm. She then spent the next week or two looking for just the right rubber ducks before she gifted me one duck with a pirate hat, eye patch, and striped shirt and one duck that was blue so I would have a tangible reminder to ride out the storm.
So I was gazing at my pirate duck (the one I keep on my work desk) and thinking about storms and water when the lyrics "and this hope is an anchor for my soul" floated through my mind. When I think of anchors, I tend to think of sinking and drowning, but today I was thinking about how they are stabilizing. When you're in a storm, you want to stay afloat, but you also don't want to find out that you've blown off course when the waters finally calm and you can see where you are. An anchor keeps you where you need to be regardless of what the water is trying to do.
Somehow this idea of an anchor gave me a new perspective on hope. For a long time I've sort of resented the idea of hope because I had several years where my life was very dark and hope seemed nowhere to be found. Hope seemed so emotionally unstable, so fickle. Now I think maybe hope is more like something that's there subconsciously, waiting for the storm to die down so you can see it was there all along. Remember the story of when Jesus and the disciples were on the water and a storm came up? Jesus was sleeping. The disciples were freaking out. I want to be more like Jesus, calm in the midst of my emotional storms, instead of like the disciples, sure I'm going to die. The great thing is, though, that whether or not I'm able to keep my cool, the anchor is there. My faith is there, anchoring me. Faith is bigger than just how I feel on any given day towards God. It's something that tethers my identity to something bigger than my circumstances. I don't need the right answers, I don't have to try to be a better person or earn more righteousness. I just have to cling to the hope of my anchor to keep me where I need to be so I can emerge from the storm victorious.
It's hard to put into words exactly how I'm feeling right now, but I think the best way to sum this whole post up is to say that this: my whole life it's seemed like there's a disconnect between my head and my heart. I always had all the "right" answers intellectually, but I couldn't make my feelings match what I knew in my head. Somehow this revelation of hope being an anchor has bridged the gap, at least a little. I feel such a confident peace that I will be OK, even knowing that there will still be times I will cry myself to sleep out of fear or despair or feeling utterly alone. I will make it through the storm and keep sailing forward because I am anchored to Jesus. What a beautiful revelation to ponder during Holy Week.
One of my greatest flaws is my tendency to get swept away by my emotions. I don't mean that in some sort of romantic, happy way. I get swept away in a way that makes it seem like when I feel something, that feeling trumps everything else. When I feel alone, that feeling tends to trump the truth that God is always with me. When I feel worthless, it trumps the truth that Jesus paid the highest price for my salvation.
I have been working hard to improve in this area, and I think especially in the last few months I've started to see some maturity there. I'd describe my life in 2014 as spiritually turbulent. I've been asking really hard questions and finding no satisfactory answer. I've been reading scripture that I can't make sense of and that makes me feel angry and sad. I've cried during sermons and stood silent during worship, unable to utter words that I don't know if I mean. And through all this I've been faithfully praying and reading my Bible, serving in church regularly, having deep conversations with friends, pushing through this chaotic storm just trying to hang on until the waters calm.
This brings me to the rubber duck. A few years ago a friend of mine was being supportive through a similar time of spiritual turbulence. She encouraged me to just keep floating on the water and ride out the storm. She then spent the next week or two looking for just the right rubber ducks before she gifted me one duck with a pirate hat, eye patch, and striped shirt and one duck that was blue so I would have a tangible reminder to ride out the storm.
So I was gazing at my pirate duck (the one I keep on my work desk) and thinking about storms and water when the lyrics "and this hope is an anchor for my soul" floated through my mind. When I think of anchors, I tend to think of sinking and drowning, but today I was thinking about how they are stabilizing. When you're in a storm, you want to stay afloat, but you also don't want to find out that you've blown off course when the waters finally calm and you can see where you are. An anchor keeps you where you need to be regardless of what the water is trying to do.
Somehow this idea of an anchor gave me a new perspective on hope. For a long time I've sort of resented the idea of hope because I had several years where my life was very dark and hope seemed nowhere to be found. Hope seemed so emotionally unstable, so fickle. Now I think maybe hope is more like something that's there subconsciously, waiting for the storm to die down so you can see it was there all along. Remember the story of when Jesus and the disciples were on the water and a storm came up? Jesus was sleeping. The disciples were freaking out. I want to be more like Jesus, calm in the midst of my emotional storms, instead of like the disciples, sure I'm going to die. The great thing is, though, that whether or not I'm able to keep my cool, the anchor is there. My faith is there, anchoring me. Faith is bigger than just how I feel on any given day towards God. It's something that tethers my identity to something bigger than my circumstances. I don't need the right answers, I don't have to try to be a better person or earn more righteousness. I just have to cling to the hope of my anchor to keep me where I need to be so I can emerge from the storm victorious.
It's hard to put into words exactly how I'm feeling right now, but I think the best way to sum this whole post up is to say that this: my whole life it's seemed like there's a disconnect between my head and my heart. I always had all the "right" answers intellectually, but I couldn't make my feelings match what I knew in my head. Somehow this revelation of hope being an anchor has bridged the gap, at least a little. I feel such a confident peace that I will be OK, even knowing that there will still be times I will cry myself to sleep out of fear or despair or feeling utterly alone. I will make it through the storm and keep sailing forward because I am anchored to Jesus. What a beautiful revelation to ponder during Holy Week.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Why arguing is never going to save someone
I am an external processor. I think best when I'm talking, which means that more often than is probably acceptable to admit, I end up talking to myself. I can make better sense of my thoughts when I say them out loud. Sometimes that makes journaling or blogging hard, because I can't organize my thoughts as well if I don't talk it out, but once I talk it out, I don't feel the need to write things down as much. Tonight I had a great conversation with a friend, and I wanted to write down some of the thoughts that came out.
I'm not sure it would be entirely accurate to call me a skeptic. I think it would be more fair to say that while I do have some firm beliefs, I also have a lot of questions. I used to feel really frustrated and sometimes guilty that I had all these questions but no satisfactory answers. Lately I've come to a place of being at peace even when I don't have the concrete answers I'd like.
Tonight I went with a few friends to a showing of a documentary called "Hellbound?" It was basically a look at some of the different schools of thought on hell. Three main schools of thought were shared: eternal torment, annihilation, and universalism, although annihilation was touched upon only briefly. I found it fascinating to watch people talk about their different views, the different ways the Church has viewed hell throughout history, and the different cultural and political aspects of power. It was a well-filmed documentary, and I think it's a great conversation starter. Here are some of my thoughts after watching the documentary and a Q & A with the director (Kevin Miller) and one of the interviewees (Greg Boyd).
I kept thinking about how my pastor quotes a verse from Romans 2 about how it is kindness that leads to repentance. People don't change their lives because someone tells them how horrible they are. I know that some people will pray for salvation out of fear, but I don't think true transformation occurs when people are just looking for fire insurance (a safeguard against hell).
There are so many things I don't know. When I was younger, it really freaked me out when my black and white world started to crumble. In college my experience of the world didn't line up with some of the things I'd always believed, and it created great cognitive dissonance. I didn't know how to believe that God loved me and had a plan for me when life was so hard, so painful. I had so many questions and no answers, and I felt guilty that I even had questions.
Over the last year, and particularly the last six months, my faith has matured and deepened, and I think that is in large part due to a shift in how I view the questions I have. I feel free to ask questions and admit that maybe I'm wrong. I used to think that if a non-Christian friend asked me a tough question and I didn't have a definitive answer, it would turn them away from God and it would be my fault if they went to hell. I used to get genuinely panicked at the thought of trying to save all my friends and family from hell, because if it was real and it was awful, I had to save them, and of course it was my job to save them. All I knew how to do was argue that I was right about heaven and Jesus. But arguments don't save people. Judging people doesn't save them. Why would they want to enter into a religion that is largely known for judging and condemning people?
Jesus said that the greatest commandment was to love God with everything you have and to love your neighbor. If I think about that in the big picture, I feel so free. All I have to do is love Jesus the best way I know how, to learn and grow and seek him, and then love the people around me. Treat them kindly; offer them help and support. Really, if all Christians stopped fighting about the details and just started loving people, don't you think the world would be a different place? When I think about the hot-button sin topics of today, I wonder if those are really the things that matter. If we stopped looking at certain sins like we're looking through a telescope and instead took a step back and looked for ways to love each other, wouldn't that be an amazing place to live? I'm not perfect. Far from it. And even though I've grown a lot, I'm never going to achieve perfection. So why do I expect other people to achieve something that I can't? Why is there an expectation of instant perfection instead of valuing the process and journey? Maybe it's enough if someone loves Jesus and tries their best to follow Him. We're never going to agree on the perfect list of things you have to do and say or not do or say in order to get to heaven, because that's not how grace works. If we're all works in progress, why don't we stop nitpicking the journey some people end up taking as long as they're walking towards Jesus? Maybe if we walked with them for a bit, we'd see how hard their walk is and appreciate that they're doing their best.
I have discovered that I love reading Rachel Held Evans' blog (www.rachelheldevans.com). Some of the things she writes or links to are uncomfortable. I don't agree with everything. But she's not afraid to ask tough questions, to ask that we read the Bible for what it is, not what we want it to be. Even when her views seem controversial against the mostly conservative views with which I'm accustomed, she treats people with dignity and respect. The comments from her readers spark discussion and thought, and I've learned that I do not have to agree with every point of a person's theology in order to respect them as a human being. I don't have to be definitively right about everything. When I enter into a conversation and I'm not put on the defensive right away, there is room for me to truly listen and reflect. Reading opinions that differ from mine has helped me to explore if my beliefs are based on things I've been told to believe or things I've read and discerned for myself. I actually found myself feeling more respected and elevated as a woman and as a person after I allowed myself to discard some beliefs I'd had simply because that's all I knew growing up.
I hope that I continue to ponder some of the questions and issues that have popped up lately. I want to be open to the possibility that other people might have insight where I do not, and I want to continue to learn to love people whether they agree with me or not. If I really trust God, then I want to trust that He is in control and doesn't need me to run the world for Him.
I'm not sure it would be entirely accurate to call me a skeptic. I think it would be more fair to say that while I do have some firm beliefs, I also have a lot of questions. I used to feel really frustrated and sometimes guilty that I had all these questions but no satisfactory answers. Lately I've come to a place of being at peace even when I don't have the concrete answers I'd like.
Tonight I went with a few friends to a showing of a documentary called "Hellbound?" It was basically a look at some of the different schools of thought on hell. Three main schools of thought were shared: eternal torment, annihilation, and universalism, although annihilation was touched upon only briefly. I found it fascinating to watch people talk about their different views, the different ways the Church has viewed hell throughout history, and the different cultural and political aspects of power. It was a well-filmed documentary, and I think it's a great conversation starter. Here are some of my thoughts after watching the documentary and a Q & A with the director (Kevin Miller) and one of the interviewees (Greg Boyd).
I kept thinking about how my pastor quotes a verse from Romans 2 about how it is kindness that leads to repentance. People don't change their lives because someone tells them how horrible they are. I know that some people will pray for salvation out of fear, but I don't think true transformation occurs when people are just looking for fire insurance (a safeguard against hell).
There are so many things I don't know. When I was younger, it really freaked me out when my black and white world started to crumble. In college my experience of the world didn't line up with some of the things I'd always believed, and it created great cognitive dissonance. I didn't know how to believe that God loved me and had a plan for me when life was so hard, so painful. I had so many questions and no answers, and I felt guilty that I even had questions.
Over the last year, and particularly the last six months, my faith has matured and deepened, and I think that is in large part due to a shift in how I view the questions I have. I feel free to ask questions and admit that maybe I'm wrong. I used to think that if a non-Christian friend asked me a tough question and I didn't have a definitive answer, it would turn them away from God and it would be my fault if they went to hell. I used to get genuinely panicked at the thought of trying to save all my friends and family from hell, because if it was real and it was awful, I had to save them, and of course it was my job to save them. All I knew how to do was argue that I was right about heaven and Jesus. But arguments don't save people. Judging people doesn't save them. Why would they want to enter into a religion that is largely known for judging and condemning people?
Jesus said that the greatest commandment was to love God with everything you have and to love your neighbor. If I think about that in the big picture, I feel so free. All I have to do is love Jesus the best way I know how, to learn and grow and seek him, and then love the people around me. Treat them kindly; offer them help and support. Really, if all Christians stopped fighting about the details and just started loving people, don't you think the world would be a different place? When I think about the hot-button sin topics of today, I wonder if those are really the things that matter. If we stopped looking at certain sins like we're looking through a telescope and instead took a step back and looked for ways to love each other, wouldn't that be an amazing place to live? I'm not perfect. Far from it. And even though I've grown a lot, I'm never going to achieve perfection. So why do I expect other people to achieve something that I can't? Why is there an expectation of instant perfection instead of valuing the process and journey? Maybe it's enough if someone loves Jesus and tries their best to follow Him. We're never going to agree on the perfect list of things you have to do and say or not do or say in order to get to heaven, because that's not how grace works. If we're all works in progress, why don't we stop nitpicking the journey some people end up taking as long as they're walking towards Jesus? Maybe if we walked with them for a bit, we'd see how hard their walk is and appreciate that they're doing their best.
I have discovered that I love reading Rachel Held Evans' blog (www.rachelheldevans.com). Some of the things she writes or links to are uncomfortable. I don't agree with everything. But she's not afraid to ask tough questions, to ask that we read the Bible for what it is, not what we want it to be. Even when her views seem controversial against the mostly conservative views with which I'm accustomed, she treats people with dignity and respect. The comments from her readers spark discussion and thought, and I've learned that I do not have to agree with every point of a person's theology in order to respect them as a human being. I don't have to be definitively right about everything. When I enter into a conversation and I'm not put on the defensive right away, there is room for me to truly listen and reflect. Reading opinions that differ from mine has helped me to explore if my beliefs are based on things I've been told to believe or things I've read and discerned for myself. I actually found myself feeling more respected and elevated as a woman and as a person after I allowed myself to discard some beliefs I'd had simply because that's all I knew growing up.
I hope that I continue to ponder some of the questions and issues that have popped up lately. I want to be open to the possibility that other people might have insight where I do not, and I want to continue to learn to love people whether they agree with me or not. If I really trust God, then I want to trust that He is in control and doesn't need me to run the world for Him.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
God's Math
I grew up tithing all the money I got. When I was little and got 50 cents for an allowance, a nickel went into my Sunday School offering. Tithing was just something you did, no questions asked. Christmas money, allowance, job money, whatever it was, 10% went to church. When I got to college, I stopped having steady income. I didn't work my first few semesters of college, and I didn't have a church home. So the tithing stopped.
I started tithing again after college. I actually hadn't found a church yet, but I was out of a job and money was tight, and I just remembered all I had been taught about money and how it was God's in the first place, so I gave to various charities. Once I found Substance (my current church which I love dearly), I began tithing there. One summer we had a sermon series call The Blessed Life, and I felt like 10% was great, but that was a baseline, and I wanted to do more than the minimum, so I upped my regular giving.
Money is something that can bring up all sorts of feelings in people. Talking about it in church can be really uncomfortable. It's rather taboo to talk about how much money you make, or to mention how much something expensive cost (totally OK to talk about what a bargain you scored, though). I most often refer to money in a "I'm broke until my next paycheck" sort of way.
Over the past few years, I've have ups and downs financially. I've tried to budget, I've saved money, I've spent money. I actually gave up on a formal budget because I could never make the numbers work. I'm moving at the end of the month, and as I was searching for an apartment, I was worried about money. My car broke down, and I had to spend some money to get it fixed. I didn't have enough money saved to for a deposit, but I had to find a place to live. I looked at my income, I looked at when bills were due, and I just couldn't figure out how I would have enough to pay for a deposit. The week I put my cash savings into my checking account so I could send in my deposit I was entirely unsure how I was going to pay for food and gas the next few weeks. But I trusted God. I did my best not to worry, and I read passages in the Bible like Matthew 6 where Jesus talks about not worrying because God knows our needs and cares about us.
Money is still tight. I don't make a lot of money, and I have a small amount of debt that's taking me awhile to pay off (student loans and hospital bills). But it works out. I re-looked at my bill due dates and when my paydays were, and it worked. As of this blog I have around 50 cents in my checking account, and I will get paid tomorrow and be able to pay all the bills that are due. At Substance we talk about how tithing is the believe that when we give God 10%, he enables us to do more with 90% than we would have been able to do with all 100%. I thought about not tithing even one paycheck, because that would have really eased the strain. But I held fast to the promise that God knows my needs. I honestly can't explain how it all worked out. I'm really good at math, so it's not like I added things wrong the first time. I didn't suddenly receive money from a relative or friend. It just worked out.
Today Pastor Bart shared about how there is a difference between head knowledge and experiential knowledge. You can know in your head that God provides, but when you start to experience it you gain confidence. I have been through bouts of unemployment. I have had car repairs pop up. I have given large sums of money away outside of my regular giving. And God has always provided. When my car broke down and God provided someone to fix it, that gave me confidence that he would also provide a great apartment in my price range. And the apartment I found is actually less per month than what I've been paying, and the apartment is bigger.
There are some things I just can't explain. All I know is that God really does provide.
I started tithing again after college. I actually hadn't found a church yet, but I was out of a job and money was tight, and I just remembered all I had been taught about money and how it was God's in the first place, so I gave to various charities. Once I found Substance (my current church which I love dearly), I began tithing there. One summer we had a sermon series call The Blessed Life, and I felt like 10% was great, but that was a baseline, and I wanted to do more than the minimum, so I upped my regular giving.
Money is something that can bring up all sorts of feelings in people. Talking about it in church can be really uncomfortable. It's rather taboo to talk about how much money you make, or to mention how much something expensive cost (totally OK to talk about what a bargain you scored, though). I most often refer to money in a "I'm broke until my next paycheck" sort of way.
Over the past few years, I've have ups and downs financially. I've tried to budget, I've saved money, I've spent money. I actually gave up on a formal budget because I could never make the numbers work. I'm moving at the end of the month, and as I was searching for an apartment, I was worried about money. My car broke down, and I had to spend some money to get it fixed. I didn't have enough money saved to for a deposit, but I had to find a place to live. I looked at my income, I looked at when bills were due, and I just couldn't figure out how I would have enough to pay for a deposit. The week I put my cash savings into my checking account so I could send in my deposit I was entirely unsure how I was going to pay for food and gas the next few weeks. But I trusted God. I did my best not to worry, and I read passages in the Bible like Matthew 6 where Jesus talks about not worrying because God knows our needs and cares about us.
Money is still tight. I don't make a lot of money, and I have a small amount of debt that's taking me awhile to pay off (student loans and hospital bills). But it works out. I re-looked at my bill due dates and when my paydays were, and it worked. As of this blog I have around 50 cents in my checking account, and I will get paid tomorrow and be able to pay all the bills that are due. At Substance we talk about how tithing is the believe that when we give God 10%, he enables us to do more with 90% than we would have been able to do with all 100%. I thought about not tithing even one paycheck, because that would have really eased the strain. But I held fast to the promise that God knows my needs. I honestly can't explain how it all worked out. I'm really good at math, so it's not like I added things wrong the first time. I didn't suddenly receive money from a relative or friend. It just worked out.
Today Pastor Bart shared about how there is a difference between head knowledge and experiential knowledge. You can know in your head that God provides, but when you start to experience it you gain confidence. I have been through bouts of unemployment. I have had car repairs pop up. I have given large sums of money away outside of my regular giving. And God has always provided. When my car broke down and God provided someone to fix it, that gave me confidence that he would also provide a great apartment in my price range. And the apartment I found is actually less per month than what I've been paying, and the apartment is bigger.
There are some things I just can't explain. All I know is that God really does provide.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Car Troubles and Answered Prayer
I'm not someone who has had lots of moments when I can say "That was an answered prayer." Maybe I'm just not very observant, or maybe I just don't pray for big things that only God can do. But last week, I totally had a prayer answered in a big way.
Tuesday night I was scheduled to run the lighting for Deeper, our Tuesday night service at church. It was insanely hot, so I was ready to sweat it out on the drive there and then sit in air conditioning for a few hours. As I was driving, my radio started to turn on and off, and I thought maybe it was so hot that it was affecting the electronics. Then I realized that my turn signals weren't working, and that's kind of a problem. I made it to the stop light that's one block from our building, and my car died. Nothing happened when I tried to turn the key.
I immediately called my friend Mia. I thought she might already be at the OC, but even if she wasn't, she's told me in the past that if I ever break down she has a big network of people. Mia and her dad Bob pulled up to my car, and we managed to use jumper cables to get my car going long enough to pull into the church parking lot. My car died again as I was coasting into the parking space.
When Mia asked me what I wanted to do next, I just said "I don't know." After an hour of sitting outside stuck with my car, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. I went inside to see if Andrea had been able to find someone else to run lighting. They had it covered, and Andrea and Josh said they'd help any way they could. Andrea suggested that she take me home and I get some sleep, waiting to deal with the problem until the next morning. I thought that sounded like a pretty good idea, so she drove me home.
After I got home, I let myself cry. I was super focused and fairly calm while everything was happening because I knew that getting upset in that moment wouldn't do any good. I knew that as long as I let my emotions out later that night that it was OK to stuff them down temporarily. I spent some time reading the passage in Matthew where Jesus talks about God providing for even the birds, and how much more valuable we are than the birds. I did my best to stay calm and just trust that God would provice, and then I posted on my church's Facebook group wall asking if anyone was able to help me get my car fixed. A few hours later, a guy I'd never met posted his contact info saying he might be able to help.
Wednesday afternoon I called Cory, and he seemed pretty confident that he'd be able to help. He's not a mechanic, but he knows a fair amount about cars. He said he could look at my car while I was at work on Thursday since he didn't have to work until Friday, and he even offered to come to my office to pick up the keys. I was able to leave a key for him Wednesday night, and Thursday I waited with anticipation to hear if he thought he'd be able to fix it. At about 4pm, I got a phone call saying my car was fixed and I was all set. Cory and his brother even drove my car to my office and dropped it off for me. My car had a new alternator and a new battery, and Cory didn't want me to pay for anything other than the cost of the parts.
I was so blessed that a stranger would go to such lengths to help me out. It made me a little sad thinking of all the people who are without a community like the one I have at Substance. I was pretty excited to tell everyone what an answer to prayer my fixed car was. I thought about how God answered my prayer by using a person with a skill who was willing to be used. I think sometimes people have the idea that you have to have an amazing spiritual gift to really bless someone, but I think sometimes it's the practical skills that can bless someone the most. Yes, I loved the friends who prayed for me, but it was a guy with some tools who came through in the end.
I wanted to write this post to share about my excitement for this blessing, but also to remind myself that God is faithful. Just last night I was on my way somewhere and the pipe to my muffler broke. After I walked to Target to buy a coat hanger to rig it so the pipe wouldn't drag on the group, I was on the ground getting dirty in the parking lot of Caribou when the other end of the pipe broke off. In that moment I was so frustrated, so stressed out, but I wanted to trust that God would take care of my needs. Once again I did my best to stay calm and deal with the situation at hand. I got in touch with an uncle of mine who's a mechanic, and I got the go-ahead to drive (it wouldn't damage my car, just be insanely loud). I'm thankful that I was able to drive to and from work today, and that I'll be able to drive to my apartment showings tomorrow. Yes, it's a little embarrassing to have such a ghetto-sounding car, but I just try to remember that it is OK that I don't have a plan. It's OK that I don't know when I'll be able to afford to fix the pipe or get a new, more reliable car. If God never changes, and his promises are true, then the promise he made to take care of me still applies.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Daughter
Tonight at Deeper I decided to spend some time reading my Bible. Regardless of what is going on in the service, Deeper has really become more of a time that I set aside to spend time with God in whatever way I feel like that night (worship, prayer, Bible reading, journaling, etc.). I decided to start with the book of Matthew since I've recently seen Godspell, a musical loosely based on the Gospel of Matthew.
As I read, different things stood out to me. I enjoyed just reading through, pausing to reflect on certain passages. And then I got to chapter 9. My Bible is New Living Translation, and here's what Mt 9:19-22 says: "As Jesus and the disciples were going to the official's home, a woman who had had a hemorrhage for twelve years came up behind him. She touched the fringe of his robe, for she thought, 'If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.' Jesus turned around and said to her, 'Daughter, be encouraged! Your faith has made you well.' And the woman was healed at that moment." I've certainly heard this story before. But the word "daughter" caught my eye, and I wanted to see how this story was told in other gospels.
Luke 8:43-48 is the other telling of this story. This account gives more details. It says, "And there was a woman in the crows who had had a hemorrhage for twelve years. She had spent everything she had on doctors and still could find no cure. She came up behind Jesus and touched the fringe of his robe. Immediately, the bleeding stopped. 'Who touched me?' Jesus asked. Everyone denied it, and Peter said, 'Master, this whole crowd is pressing up against you.' But Jesus told him, 'No, someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me.' When the woman realized that Jesus knew, she began to tremble and fell to her knees before him. The whole crowd heard her explain why she had touched him and that she had been immediately healed. 'Daughter,' he said to her, 'your faith has made you well. Go in peace.'"
This woman is desperate. She has done everything she can to get well, spent everything she had trying to find a cure. She knows Jesus is the answer, that he has the power to end her pain. But she doesn't do what most of the other people Jesus healed did. They went up to Jesus and asked him to heal them. She crept up behind him. If she was anything like me, maybe she felt like she didn't want to bother Jesus. He was obviously a very important man, and he was on his way somewhere to do something important. Maybe she didn't want to bother him, but she was desperate. So she sort of got her miracle on the sly. Except Jesus knew right away that something was up. And again, I think the woman reacted like I would; she was afraid of Jesus' reaction. I bet she was afraid Jesus would say, "Who do you think you are? You don't even have the courage to ask me to heal you? And now you're holding up this entire group when we're on our way to do something important!" Plus, she went through the embarrassment of telling everyone what was wrong with her!
I think the woman was probably stunned at Jesus' reaction. He did not condemn her. He did not yell at her or belittle her. He called her daughter. He commended her faith. And he told her to go in peace.
Sometimes when I pray, I feel like I'm bothering God. After all, he has a whole planet full of people to take care of. Who am I to catch his attention? But I do believe in the power of prayer. I know God can do anything. I really needed this reminder that God doesn't want us to feel bad for asking him to meet our needs. He isn't going to be fooled anyway, so why not boldly go to him with my requests? I am his daughter, and he cares about my pain, and he loves it when I have faith.
As I read, different things stood out to me. I enjoyed just reading through, pausing to reflect on certain passages. And then I got to chapter 9. My Bible is New Living Translation, and here's what Mt 9:19-22 says: "As Jesus and the disciples were going to the official's home, a woman who had had a hemorrhage for twelve years came up behind him. She touched the fringe of his robe, for she thought, 'If I can just touch his robe, I will be healed.' Jesus turned around and said to her, 'Daughter, be encouraged! Your faith has made you well.' And the woman was healed at that moment." I've certainly heard this story before. But the word "daughter" caught my eye, and I wanted to see how this story was told in other gospels.
Luke 8:43-48 is the other telling of this story. This account gives more details. It says, "And there was a woman in the crows who had had a hemorrhage for twelve years. She had spent everything she had on doctors and still could find no cure. She came up behind Jesus and touched the fringe of his robe. Immediately, the bleeding stopped. 'Who touched me?' Jesus asked. Everyone denied it, and Peter said, 'Master, this whole crowd is pressing up against you.' But Jesus told him, 'No, someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me.' When the woman realized that Jesus knew, she began to tremble and fell to her knees before him. The whole crowd heard her explain why she had touched him and that she had been immediately healed. 'Daughter,' he said to her, 'your faith has made you well. Go in peace.'"
This woman is desperate. She has done everything she can to get well, spent everything she had trying to find a cure. She knows Jesus is the answer, that he has the power to end her pain. But she doesn't do what most of the other people Jesus healed did. They went up to Jesus and asked him to heal them. She crept up behind him. If she was anything like me, maybe she felt like she didn't want to bother Jesus. He was obviously a very important man, and he was on his way somewhere to do something important. Maybe she didn't want to bother him, but she was desperate. So she sort of got her miracle on the sly. Except Jesus knew right away that something was up. And again, I think the woman reacted like I would; she was afraid of Jesus' reaction. I bet she was afraid Jesus would say, "Who do you think you are? You don't even have the courage to ask me to heal you? And now you're holding up this entire group when we're on our way to do something important!" Plus, she went through the embarrassment of telling everyone what was wrong with her!
I think the woman was probably stunned at Jesus' reaction. He did not condemn her. He did not yell at her or belittle her. He called her daughter. He commended her faith. And he told her to go in peace.
Sometimes when I pray, I feel like I'm bothering God. After all, he has a whole planet full of people to take care of. Who am I to catch his attention? But I do believe in the power of prayer. I know God can do anything. I really needed this reminder that God doesn't want us to feel bad for asking him to meet our needs. He isn't going to be fooled anyway, so why not boldly go to him with my requests? I am his daughter, and he cares about my pain, and he loves it when I have faith.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Last night while I was at a worship night at my church, I felt compelled to jot down some thoughts. I immediately knew I wanted to share those thoughts on my blog. At first I thought the two things I had were unrelated, but as I thought about it, the two things fit together.
Here's the first thing I wrote (the quote is a song lyric that we sang that jumped out at me):
"Every crown no longer on display" We don't need to shine up our trophies and show off our accomplishments to impress God. We can enter into His presence just as we are because Jesus shed His blood for us. Because of God's great grace, we can enter the very throne room of heaven and praise the God who saved us.
Romans 3:22-25
(We're going through Romans in my Bible study and last week we were on chapter 3, so I knew how perfectly those verses backed up my thoughts.)
The second thing I wrote:
Sometimes I feel like Esther. She was chosen by the king, she had gained his favor, but she still feared for her life when she came before the king uninvited. Despite knowing I am God's chosen and that He loves me, I am still sometimes afraid to enter into His presence.
It can be really easy to think that we have to approach God the same way we approach everyone around us: look our best, act our best, prove we're important. But God doesn't work like that. He knows our darkest, dirtiest secrets, and He decided that He still loved us enough to send His son to die so we could be redeemed. And when we screw up again, which we will, because we're human, God loves it when we run back to Him instead of hiding from Him.
Here's the first thing I wrote (the quote is a song lyric that we sang that jumped out at me):
"Every crown no longer on display" We don't need to shine up our trophies and show off our accomplishments to impress God. We can enter into His presence just as we are because Jesus shed His blood for us. Because of God's great grace, we can enter the very throne room of heaven and praise the God who saved us.
Romans 3:22-25
(We're going through Romans in my Bible study and last week we were on chapter 3, so I knew how perfectly those verses backed up my thoughts.)
The second thing I wrote:
Sometimes I feel like Esther. She was chosen by the king, she had gained his favor, but she still feared for her life when she came before the king uninvited. Despite knowing I am God's chosen and that He loves me, I am still sometimes afraid to enter into His presence.
It can be really easy to think that we have to approach God the same way we approach everyone around us: look our best, act our best, prove we're important. But God doesn't work like that. He knows our darkest, dirtiest secrets, and He decided that He still loved us enough to send His son to die so we could be redeemed. And when we screw up again, which we will, because we're human, God loves it when we run back to Him instead of hiding from Him.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
God's Goodness
God is good. Today I got offered a job that I really wanted, and after 5+ months of unemployment it feels so amazing. It's really easy to say that God is good after I get news like this. So I emailed my friends and family about the job, I told them that God is good, and I prayed and thanked God.
As I was praying, I realized that God is always good. I prayed, "God, you are so good. Thank you so much for this job. But you would be good even if I hadn't gotten it." God is good no matter what our circumstances are. It's easier for me to believe in his goodness when I feel good, when I get good news. It's a lot harder for me to see God's goodness when I'm feeling depressed, lonely, and hopeless. God isn't fickle. He doesn't choose to be good some times and other times choose not to be. Yes, his goodness runs alongside his justice and mercy, so it's hard to understand sometimes why bad things happen in life, but he is still good.
God is good. God is love. And he will always be those things no matter what your life looks like.
As I was praying, I realized that God is always good. I prayed, "God, you are so good. Thank you so much for this job. But you would be good even if I hadn't gotten it." God is good no matter what our circumstances are. It's easier for me to believe in his goodness when I feel good, when I get good news. It's a lot harder for me to see God's goodness when I'm feeling depressed, lonely, and hopeless. God isn't fickle. He doesn't choose to be good some times and other times choose not to be. Yes, his goodness runs alongside his justice and mercy, so it's hard to understand sometimes why bad things happen in life, but he is still good.
God is good. God is love. And he will always be those things no matter what your life looks like.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
God in our Culture
I watch a lot of TV. I've always watched a lot of TV. As a kid who was homeschooled, I had a LOT of free time, which I filled with books and TV. Same thing now. I'm unemployed, and I have a lot of free time. So I read a lot and watch a lot of TV.
I've been watching Glee since it started. I wasn't sure at first if I wanted to continue watching it because I didn't like how the show handled some characters' choices, but I decided to keep watching and see where it went. I am really proud about how they presented the subject matter of last night's show. Talking about faith and spirituality in such a public way can go really badly. It's not hard to really offend someone when it comes to talking about God.
I think what I appreciated the most is that Glee showed a very real look at how a lot of people feel about God. I have a lot of friends who don't believe in God for a lot of the same reasons the characters in Glee questioned God's existence. I have gay friends who don't understand how a loving God could create a human being with a same-sex attraction and then say it's a sin. I've prayed really hard for people that have then passed away. It's true that "the big questions are big for a reason."
I don't have all the answers, and I respect people's right to believe whatever they want. If they want to believe in a different god or none at all, I believe that they are perfectly within their rights to do so. I also believe that it's my right to believe that Jesus is the son of God and the only way to heaven.
When I pray for my friends (and I do pray for my friends, Christian or not), I don't pray for them to give up this sin or that. I have lots of my own sin problems, and who am I to impose Christian standards on someone who doesn't profess to be a Christian? I pray that my friends would have an encounter with God and his love that is life-changing. I think love is the key. I've struggled for a long time with how to love people who are different than me, who believe differently, who behave in ways I don't agree with. I am imperfect, and I love imperfectly. God's love isn't limited like mine is.
Yes, God is perfect and because he loves us there is a certain order in which he created the world to work, but he doesn't love only the perfect people. There wouldn't be anyone to love, if that were the case. Something I've been told by a lot of my friends at church (something I need to hear often) is that God loves us right where we're at. I've spent entire years of my life where my only communication with God was to either tell him how angry I was, how hurt I was, or how scared I was. Sometimes that's still how my prayers look.
I know what it is to hurt so badly you think the only answer might be to kill yourself. I've battled depression, and I've even had two hospital inpatient stays. I know pain. But I also know that there's hope. Maybe you don't understand, but there is so much hope in Jesus, in his love. It is my most sincere hope and prayer that if you're reading this, that you'll experience that love in the depths of your being.
I've been watching Glee since it started. I wasn't sure at first if I wanted to continue watching it because I didn't like how the show handled some characters' choices, but I decided to keep watching and see where it went. I am really proud about how they presented the subject matter of last night's show. Talking about faith and spirituality in such a public way can go really badly. It's not hard to really offend someone when it comes to talking about God.
I think what I appreciated the most is that Glee showed a very real look at how a lot of people feel about God. I have a lot of friends who don't believe in God for a lot of the same reasons the characters in Glee questioned God's existence. I have gay friends who don't understand how a loving God could create a human being with a same-sex attraction and then say it's a sin. I've prayed really hard for people that have then passed away. It's true that "the big questions are big for a reason."
I don't have all the answers, and I respect people's right to believe whatever they want. If they want to believe in a different god or none at all, I believe that they are perfectly within their rights to do so. I also believe that it's my right to believe that Jesus is the son of God and the only way to heaven.
When I pray for my friends (and I do pray for my friends, Christian or not), I don't pray for them to give up this sin or that. I have lots of my own sin problems, and who am I to impose Christian standards on someone who doesn't profess to be a Christian? I pray that my friends would have an encounter with God and his love that is life-changing. I think love is the key. I've struggled for a long time with how to love people who are different than me, who believe differently, who behave in ways I don't agree with. I am imperfect, and I love imperfectly. God's love isn't limited like mine is.
Yes, God is perfect and because he loves us there is a certain order in which he created the world to work, but he doesn't love only the perfect people. There wouldn't be anyone to love, if that were the case. Something I've been told by a lot of my friends at church (something I need to hear often) is that God loves us right where we're at. I've spent entire years of my life where my only communication with God was to either tell him how angry I was, how hurt I was, or how scared I was. Sometimes that's still how my prayers look.
I know what it is to hurt so badly you think the only answer might be to kill yourself. I've battled depression, and I've even had two hospital inpatient stays. I know pain. But I also know that there's hope. Maybe you don't understand, but there is so much hope in Jesus, in his love. It is my most sincere hope and prayer that if you're reading this, that you'll experience that love in the depths of your being.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Sectioning off who you are
I have different categories of friends. Friends from high school, friends from college, friends from church. My friends have known me in different times of my life. I've had theatre friends, floormate friends, Spanish Club friends. Generally friendships are formed based on common interests. Isn't that what you do with your friends? You get together and do something you both enjoy.
I hate having to wall off part of who I am when I'm around some people. I'm not talking about when you decide not to disclose all of your deepest, darkest secrets with a friend you've only known a short while. In my case I'm talking about my faith. I went to a Christian college, so my college friends and I share the same basic faith. My church friends and I share the same basic faith. But when it comes to friends from high school, or maybe people at work, my faith is something that I feel I have to hide.
My friends have always respected me to my face. They've never said I was stupid for believing in God. They've never accused me to my face of being judgmental. I have a deep fear that if I was honest about my beliefs on certain things, some people would no longer be my friend. In high school, I was afraid of losing the only friends I had, of losing a life that I'd never had before and was desperate not to lose. Now that I have a wider circle of friends, I'm not as afraid of losing my friends. What I'm afraid of is of saying or doing something that would offend them so much that they wouldn't be open to anything having to do with God at all.
Not all of my beliefs are politically correct. Actually, most of them probably aren't. And I'm OK with that. I do believe that people should be free to choose what to believe in. I also believe that despite thinking others should be free to choose, they can choose wrong. I don't believe all religions are equal. And I think there are a lot of things in our culture today that are widely accepted but shouldn't be, because they're sins.
I really wish I knew how to be my whole self no matter who I am near. My faith is so central to who I am that it feels absurd when I section that part off. It feels kind of dishonest when I don't speak up about something that I disagree with. But I don't want that to be the only thing people focus on. I think it's also important that I love to read, that I like to paint, that I have a passion for theatre that is so big I can't describe it. I think it matters that I love fall and I'm not wild about fruits or vegetables and my favorite color is purple. The world around me is crying for people to be tolerant, but I think we've actually learned to be less tolerant of differences. It seems to me that forcing everyone to believe the same sorts of things isn't tolerating our differences at all. And who decided tolerance should always be a good thing, anyway? I wouldn't want any of my friends to tolerate an abusive relationship. We do not tolerate people committing crimes without consequences. The fact that we have laws about what is and what is not acceptable shows that there are things that should not be tolerated. I value my freedom, and I hate when I am told that I can only express my freedom in certain ways so that I don't offend others. I struggle to value the right for others to have their opinions when they're opposite of mine, but I know that freedom needs to go both ways, or it's a dictatorship.
This all comes about because tonight I was with a group of people, and as great as they are, I had a moment when I realized that I had to hide my reaction to something or they would all have a big problem with me. My belief about something doesn't change how I treat them. I already believe it; it's already how I'm treating them. It's a hard line to walk. I want so desperately for my friends to have an encounter with the one who loves us so much he sent his son to die for us so we wouldn't have to be separated for eternity. Love like that totally changes everything. I wish I wasn't so scared that my own story is too full of pain and not full enough with love to be very hopeful. Somehow, even though I know it's silly to think that God can't move because I am imperfect and my story isn't finished, I still worry that I'm going to screw up eternity for some of the people that I love the most. I hope I can learn to just be more like Jesus. He totally shook things up, was totally not PC, and he loved people like they'd never been loved before.
I hate having to wall off part of who I am when I'm around some people. I'm not talking about when you decide not to disclose all of your deepest, darkest secrets with a friend you've only known a short while. In my case I'm talking about my faith. I went to a Christian college, so my college friends and I share the same basic faith. My church friends and I share the same basic faith. But when it comes to friends from high school, or maybe people at work, my faith is something that I feel I have to hide.
My friends have always respected me to my face. They've never said I was stupid for believing in God. They've never accused me to my face of being judgmental. I have a deep fear that if I was honest about my beliefs on certain things, some people would no longer be my friend. In high school, I was afraid of losing the only friends I had, of losing a life that I'd never had before and was desperate not to lose. Now that I have a wider circle of friends, I'm not as afraid of losing my friends. What I'm afraid of is of saying or doing something that would offend them so much that they wouldn't be open to anything having to do with God at all.
Not all of my beliefs are politically correct. Actually, most of them probably aren't. And I'm OK with that. I do believe that people should be free to choose what to believe in. I also believe that despite thinking others should be free to choose, they can choose wrong. I don't believe all religions are equal. And I think there are a lot of things in our culture today that are widely accepted but shouldn't be, because they're sins.
I really wish I knew how to be my whole self no matter who I am near. My faith is so central to who I am that it feels absurd when I section that part off. It feels kind of dishonest when I don't speak up about something that I disagree with. But I don't want that to be the only thing people focus on. I think it's also important that I love to read, that I like to paint, that I have a passion for theatre that is so big I can't describe it. I think it matters that I love fall and I'm not wild about fruits or vegetables and my favorite color is purple. The world around me is crying for people to be tolerant, but I think we've actually learned to be less tolerant of differences. It seems to me that forcing everyone to believe the same sorts of things isn't tolerating our differences at all. And who decided tolerance should always be a good thing, anyway? I wouldn't want any of my friends to tolerate an abusive relationship. We do not tolerate people committing crimes without consequences. The fact that we have laws about what is and what is not acceptable shows that there are things that should not be tolerated. I value my freedom, and I hate when I am told that I can only express my freedom in certain ways so that I don't offend others. I struggle to value the right for others to have their opinions when they're opposite of mine, but I know that freedom needs to go both ways, or it's a dictatorship.
This all comes about because tonight I was with a group of people, and as great as they are, I had a moment when I realized that I had to hide my reaction to something or they would all have a big problem with me. My belief about something doesn't change how I treat them. I already believe it; it's already how I'm treating them. It's a hard line to walk. I want so desperately for my friends to have an encounter with the one who loves us so much he sent his son to die for us so we wouldn't have to be separated for eternity. Love like that totally changes everything. I wish I wasn't so scared that my own story is too full of pain and not full enough with love to be very hopeful. Somehow, even though I know it's silly to think that God can't move because I am imperfect and my story isn't finished, I still worry that I'm going to screw up eternity for some of the people that I love the most. I hope I can learn to just be more like Jesus. He totally shook things up, was totally not PC, and he loved people like they'd never been loved before.
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