My Kingdom.

“A cup brimful of sweetness can spill no bitter water, no matter how seriously jarred.”

-Amy Carmichael, “If”

My kingdom was thwarted today, and like any deity/ruler, I threw a fit and huffed around for about an hour making vain threats – ultimately revealing that my cup is not brimming with sweetness but with bitter selfishness.

I suffer, like most people, from the human condition of  “My Kingdom” mentality. In my kingdom, I make the rules – which change erratically depending upon my mood or the time of the month, whether I’ve eaten or how much sleep I need.

In the Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster, he spends an entire chapter on fasting. Almost always, if you get around someone who hasn’t eaten, there is a sense of irritability – and everyone around this person is made uncomfortable. Richard Foster says that most of the time we blame lack of food on emotional unrest, when really all a lack of food does is show us how our kindness and sweetness is conditional and temperamental.*

All of these conditionally challenging things show us to whose kingdom we belong and whether we’ve really surrendered the throne to the true king, or if we are holding the scepter of judgment.

So many disagreements between spouses are “My Kingdom” arguments.

1. The toothpaste.
“I hate the way my husband rolls the toothpaste.” or “My wife uses the toothpaste from the middle!”

2. The toilet seat.
“He always leaves it up!” “She always puts it down!”

Clearly both people require the seat one way or another – if a husband were considerate he’d put it down after use, and if a woman were considerate she would put it up after use for the sake of her husband. (hmmmm…)

3. The fan.
“He likes the fan open.” “I like the windows open!”

Ok – you get it. I’m sure everyone can find things that annoy them about their spouse, or living partner, or friends, etc. These are things that are clearly not issues of morality or sin themselves, but bug the crap out of you and are worth losing respect and having significant fights over  – I mean you’ve told her 8 times you hate the way she rolls the tooth paste; or you’ve told him 9 time to unload the dishes in the morning.

All of this points to our own individual kingdoms – to their rules, their M.O. – and frankly to self-centeredness. Or to put it another way – being centered around how you would prefer it be done.

To go a step further, we also believe that when someone thwarts our kingdom’s rule – it is a personal slight against our rulership and thus trust, love, respect and hope is broken. All because she left the lid off the medicine and you knocked it over: she must not love you!

In Ephesians 5, Paul says, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” Which is to say – defer your rights to one another because you are in awe of how Christ humbled himself for you. Which is to say – be selfless because you understand the Gospel.

So my question is – how do we practice a Christ’s Kingdom mentality – and to go a step further – make deliberate  moves to choose someone else’s preference over your own, to recognize that ALL of your needs are met in Christ, that if he doesn’t put down the toilet seat, your whole world isn’t crushed?

Really the question is – how do we make the Gospel real and impacting enough to change us?

____________

*This paragraph was inspired by a conversation with my friend Rose, in which she spoke of Foster’s book, and helped me see that sin is really the root of my irritability and not my lack of sleep or food, or of my monthly hormonal uprising.

The Need for Imperfection.

The greatest implication that the word Christian carries should be broken, humbled and utterly ruined – made new, healed, resurrected and conformed to Christ. None of this can be done without an outside, ultimate, powerful and perfect source – the eternal healer.

Often I find that the preference of a “Christian” is to be perfect, complete – J.Crewesque and lacking in all dysfunction. 

There is great fear in dysfunction, ruin, humility, brokenness. It suggests, above all things, that we don’t have our act together – that we need help, that we are beyond the understanding of just ourselves.

Christian, my Christianity should show that, imply that, encourage that – reveal that. Which, frankly, is just flat out embarrassing for most of us. It requires too much vulnerability to admit failure, pain, emotional unrest – and everything else that looks weak, pathetic and makes us feel like our faith must be invalid if we still are struggling!

Paul said he was the Chief Sinner. He spared no one the discomfort of coming face to face with his evil, nor did he allow people to cling to the illusion that his strength was at all his own. His failure, brokenness and evil was so close to him; in fact, it held him in beautiful accord with humility – the only place from which we can truly speak the Gospel.

1 Timothy 1:15
Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst.

His title of Chief Sinner wasn’t a manipulative title of feigning sinfulness either – it was his humbling and foundational identity from which Christ drew him to Himself – and he carried this with him as the weakness from which Christ’s strength was perfected.

1 Timothy 1:16
But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life.

Not once did it move from Paul’s weakness to Paul’s strength; instead it moved from Paul’s weakness to Christ’s strength. 

2 Corinthians 12:9
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

Our imperfection, the foundation of our confession – that we are ruined, is the place from which we preach the hope of resurrection. Without it, we are ridiculous – for what good is resurrection if we are not first dead?

What good is Christ in the wake of our pride? 

I am a chief sinner – anything less is too “strong” to use; anything less gets in the way of Christ’s redirection; anything less denies reality; anything less denies my need of healing. For Christ came to heal the sick, not the well.

Matthew 9:12

On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick…”

It will never be my strength, only my imperfection that makes use and perfectly displays the Gospel at work.

Date Night.

I highly recommend acts of selflessness and more than anything a mentality that roots out your own selfishness and displaces it with acts and thoughts of love toward others – especially your spouse and family members.

This something I’m learning.

Tonight we had a date night – holla to Sarah Cramer who blessed us with a gift certificate to Continental Divide – home of the Red Hot Blues and the best margaritas ever (moderation implied).

Just a few happy photos.

 

Hello, Love.

I backed into a Porcupine Plant. Sad.

 

Mirror, Mirror.

 

There's no smiling in modeling!

All for tonight! So glad we were able to go out – this was really the first time in 3 months.

Lora

Fear of Belief.

I believe. 

It is impossible to operate without beliefs. We believe that the earth revolves around the sun, that the chair we sit in will hold us, that the antibiotics prescribed will treat us, that America is young, ignorant and silly (and we with it) – and more often than not, we believe that our beliefs are infallible. 

It’s a strong statement. My beliefs are infallible. But of course we believe that – how could we not? Why would any of us subscribe to anything we didn’t believe to be infallible? How irrational to go around “believing” something we think to be wrong; in fact, that is a contradiction. One cannot actually “believe” something one thinks is fallible. 

Everyone thinks their beliefs are infallible – impenetrable, perfect, accurate, informed – the end all be all of beliefs. 

Everyone. That is – ALL people EVERYWHERE. The person sitting next to you who believes that exercise suggests ultimate discipline and accuracy as a human; or the person across from you who’s humanist beliefs prevent them from critiquing culture; or the girl who over-eats to compensate for her image deficiency; or me – who thinks everyone is judging or will hate me/write me off if they know I believe in Christ as my savior.

Everyday I am faced with different beliefs – from the “Hello, how are you and what can I get started for you?” to the “and what kind of milk would you like with that Cappuccino – and, oh what’s your name again – sorry I forgot…?”

It’s impossible to escape the reality of beliefs. And the struggle is even greater in this time because – well – we’re forbidden to discuss them publicly unless we’re in the majority – or on our facebook “info”.

I fear belief. I have a hope that is reaching beyond this time, beyond my momentary wrinkles and deficits, and yet – I fear.

What will they think of me? Who will I be to them? Do I accurately represent that in which I profess faith? Is my hope real or delusional? Have I read enough Neitzche, Kant, Hawkins, Hitchens to warrant respect? Do I know enough about other cultures, about my own culture? Can I answer the questions that face me – the question of who we are, what we we’re here for and why? The question of the good life and who has it to give? The question of why and for what? These are complicated – they are more complicated than gravity – for an apple falling from a tree can not give light enough to answer fully, without question or doubt – are we intentional? or are we merely  the play out of some giant genetic spark manifested in a multiplicity of different variables without reason, purpose or hope for anything better?

Who can answer that without shuttering? or without pause to the consequence of the answer…

It is that for which we live – these answers, these beliefs – infallible as they are.

Shutter. How you answer them is how you live and how you live is who you are and who you are is what you become and what you become is your entire existence – and if it’s only this life, this moment… it is worth far less than you ever imagined.

And that’s just belief.

The Practice of Darkness.

Eric fell asleep with the light on while I was still reading. At 10:30pm, I decided it was bed time, but I still had to go to the bathroom. I crawled out of bed and turned off the light and proceeded to stumble through the doorway into the darkness of the bathroom.

Pitch black, as in no form could be seen or determined by my eyes. I felt around for the toilet; in my mind, I could see its location from having it seen it so many times in the light. I fumbled for the toilet paper and couldn’t get any off the roll, so I pulled it off the holder and began to unroll it feeling for the edge of the paper.

It dawned on me, sitting there in the complete darkness – my eyes unable to make out anything in front of me, or next to me, or even my hands that were connected to my body, … that this is the world in which I live. Daily, this is how I walk around in the world – unable to make out forms or people; in fact, until I bumped into the sink I was pretty sure I had another 6 inches before I reached it.

This word has become a cliché.

In a word relation, many things pop into my head when I think of darkness. Witchcraft (namely kid’s movies with dark witches), scary movies, black cloaking smoke, evil, shadows, the Lord of the Rings movie, Narnia…

Sometimes the word  invokes a feeling, others times it invokes an action, and even still none of them come close to the reality of the word. Often we think sin, so the word becomes metaphorical – “she is living in darkness.”

Or “darkness covered the earth” – which comes to mean that lots of people were doing gross and evil things.

Rarely, though, do I sit in darkness and think about how much my lens for the word is blind without light. And that in and of myself, I can produce no light to break through the darkness in which I sit.

Darkness is a few things:

1. It is deceptive:

As I said earlier – the sink was only 6 inches away, until – wam, I bumped right into it.

Proverbs 4:19
But the way of the wicked is like deep darkness; they do not know what makes them stumble.

How does it deceive you?

2. It is impossible to overcome in and of myself:

I can produce no light with my body or my mind – without an outside source.

So often I assume that light is within my own power to conjure, and that the source (Jesus) is really not necessary for everyday living.

This looks like a few things:

• Jesus as a match book: 
  • I treat the bible as a matchbook. “Give me a little proof text here, God, to handle this situation.” Strike a match, give a little light, and proceed to burn my fingers and wam, back into darkness I go.
• Jesus as a flash light:
  • Ever played flash light tag? Ever gotten your eyes totally blinded by the light while someone is “tagging you”? Did you feel annoyed by that? Sometimes, I do that to people. Bam, LIGHT. BAM, LIGHT!! Hello – LIGHT!!! Ow, ow, ow. No one wants to play with me anymore.
• Jesus as a bon fire: 
  • Stood next to a bonfire before? Choked a little bit by the smoke? It roars and roars and roars, then finally – it dwindles out into a pile of ashes and flies away. I treat Jesus like that – ride the high, until suddenly, I’m smoldering, then dwindling, then… poof. Gone.

All of those are ways, I try to use Jesus as a light in my darkness. Either by just a momentary proof-text to show off my righteousness, or by blinding people with my know-how, or by wowing people with a roaring emotional high, that will inevitably dwindle into ashes and leave everyone choking on the dust.

3. The Darkness doesn’t understand the Light:

John 1:5
The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.

So often, I find myself not understanding the light. The call of Christ is to a different order than the order of the world – and this lack of understanding can easily turn to doubt, or blatant rebellion/supposed blindness about God’s true call on our lives.

If you read Hebrews, you will see how God called people by Faith (the assurance of things for which we hope) – and you will see these people persecuted, sawn in two, walking into foreign lands, and trusting in God solely to deliver them into a new order.

When I don’t understand God, it’s usually his fault – but when I remember that the darkness does not understand the light, it draws me into confession for the darkness within me that doubts the truth of his light.

Why am I thinking about this?

Isaiah 42:16
I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them.

Because it seems that I think I live in the light with everyone; that our lives are beautiful reflections of Christ’s light – when in reality, our actions betray our heart’s true longing – a longing for the darkness of:

• Beauty
• Intellect
• People’s approval
• The ability to manipulate other people into submission
• Sex
• Comfort
• My own kingdom’s rule

I think it would do me good, every once in awhile, to know that my lens is dark – and from that knowledge to let the Bible inform and coach me in the darkness, to be the constant and ultimate Truth. To trust that God knows when I do not – that his discipline is for my good, that possessions will not satiate me, that His kingdom is not of this world – and that my darkness goes far beyond what I can confess – to the point where I must be humble.

Psalm 18:28
You, O LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.

John 8:12
When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

When, At Last.

I am like a car. Every 3,000 miles I need to get my oil changed.

What does this mean? It means I have a little bit of “feeling great about God” and then a stint of – “augh, I’m so crappy and sinful and I suck so much – wah wah, self-loathing ensues.”

This time – I lasted from January to March. Something about going from Nicaragua to Houston then back to C’ville jostled me out of my euphoria of “Wow, I’m a great Christian – look how much I read my bible and do all these great things with people” – and back into the frustrating and necessary reality of “Ew, I’m only able to do anything by Grace – and Oh, yes, remember – not 2 years ago you drank a lot, were utterly miserable and could barely think straight.”

As Elizabeth Elliot says, “The only escape from Self-love is Self-surrender.” 

I find, even now, that what is harder than realizing your sin (which is hard, but pretty obvious if you take two seconds to look at yourself through someone else’s eyes) -

The harder thing is to fall back on the Cross, to lay back down and pick back up the Bible and continue reading regardless of how self-pitying you want to be, or how “unforgivable” you are, or how much you’re trying.

Ah, the beauty and release of  finally acknowledging that you can’t do anything a part from God, and that all wonderful, motivational feelings are grace – all obedience is grace, all perseverance, all fruit comes from abiding in the vine where the nourishment of God lies in Christ – and all of that is…

unmerited favor : grace.

O, that I could live in the realization that the heart is what changes the actions; that Christ dwelling in me, and me abiding in him is what makes anything I do possible.

Christianity is Dying?

My friend sent me this link. It’s MSNBC morning edition.

I watched this video with tension, because it seems that most people I come in contact with have a fairly skewed and annoyed understanding of Christianity – therefore, the projection of Christianity in the media looks mostly like the movie Saved!. 

This video is talking about good friday with Tim Keller and the recent author of an article in Time Magazine about the dwindling of Christianity in America. Hope you find it interesting!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3036789/vp/30151678#30144080

Lora

Gold Digger.

“Imagine that you have some family money – someone comes along and says “I’d like to marry you.” And imagine that sometime in the marriage, your spouse realizes that he or she can’t really get his or her hands on that family money. – And they leave you.

How do you feel?

Voilated. Used. Just a means to an end? An object. You feel like you were not loved for who you are yourself.

Do you realize that almost all of us relate to God like that? How do you think he feels?

What do you mean, you say? Well I’ll tell you.

You and I have talked to many people who have said at one point or another – “I used to believe in God. I used to serve at the Church. I used to be a Christian. But God just didn’t come through for me.  He didn’t let this happen that I wanted to happen, and he let this happen that shouldn’t have happened. My life went in a way, that I didn’t like.  In other words, he had this huge blessing account that I couldn’t get my hands on, and when I realized that … I was out of there! 

You married God for his money. “

-Tim Keller; the Gospel and Your Self

 

I’ve heard the term Gold Digger before – it relates to money. But I had never considered that perhaps, there are different ways to dig for gold in relationship – and that the primary indicator is how I relate to God. 

If, with the Holy God – I am inclined to “cheat” on him/ or look to other things for satisfaction when he doesn’t come through for me. How much more am I inclined to do so with my husband? 

Or with our friends? Or with our work? Or with our job? 

So today, I was challenged to think about whether I am after God for his money or for who He is.

The Butter.

From the kitchen, Eric calls out to me,”Do you know what one of my pet peeves is?  I mean – I just realized right now it’s a pet peeve, but none the less.”

I sit on the couch, preparing the movie – and have been calling out to him to come join me for the past 5 minutes. I, of course, assume he’s going to say – “you calling out to me every 5 minutes when I’m trying to make tea for us.”

Instead, he emerges from the kitchen, sweat pants and t-shirt on, and looks at me, then holds up the butter.

The butter, is 2 halves of one stick, both still in their wrapper and one small piece unwrapped – all on the butter holder.

“I mean,” he says, “Did you like swab a corn on the cob with this, put it back in the wrapper and stick it on the tray and think this is okay, or what? What am I supposed to do with this?”

I start laughing. He smiles at me and scratches his head.

This is one reason why I love him – because he makes me laugh.

The Exercise of Heaven.

“What if this is heaven?” Eric asked me, as we sat on the top step leading up to our house, nibbling on sandwiches. I, in his brown robe, stared out over our front yard, littered with little purple flowers and, in the corner, daffodils giggling in the wind. 
“This is not heaven,” I said. He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded to me. It was the most beautiful day in Charlottesville since last spring.
“You know how I know this isn’t heaven?” He asked me.
“How?”
“Because there are better places than this – and even they aren’t heaven,” He responded.
I finished my sandwich and sat there, testing the focusing of my eyes on the immediate bush, the far away bush, the house beyond my yard, the trees beyond that house and finally the sky above and beyond them all.

I thought about Narnia, imagined myself sitting on the steps of a house at 24, looking out over my front yard – everything complete – no tarnishing, the flowers perpetually perky and alive, my body without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, no anxiety, no anger, no psychological angst… just deep, fresh breaths of air – holy, spotless, whole. I thought about a perfect King on the throne – gentle, wise, gracious, full of strength and compassion. I thought about the worth of his life shaping mine. I thought about glory – radiance; sheer and utter joy, happiness, beauty.

I thought about fearless and flourishing relationships with people – true and glorious friendship, imagined meals with conversation, wine, good food, dancing, praise, and magnificence. I imagined peace – shalom, the remaking of the broken, the healing of crippled hands and feet, of blind eyes and barren women – the restoration of sexual abuse, the reassembling of paralyzed bodies; I imagined myself not socially awkward, or blinded by the brokenness of my lens. I imagined clarity, wisdom, deliberation – the most excellent theocracy.

Ah, the rest of holiness. The fresh and grand reality of new heavens and new earth – the Promise… the PROMISE realized.

Think on this. 

Exercise Heaven.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”  

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.

 

Revelation 21