Friday, July 11, 2008

Improv Everywhere

My friend Sarah directed me to this website. I've had some good laughs.

http://improveverywhere.com/

(My judgment: funnier than Peter Funt or Ashton Kutcher.)

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Security

When I was younger, I was fearful of other people because I cared so much about what they thought of me. Today, not much has changed. It's a constant battle for approval from others. I want people to like me and understand me. I remember that one time I wanted so badly to ask one of my friends over to spend the night, but because she was cooler than me, I couldn't bring myself to do it. So naturally, I asked my mom to do it for me. As my mom stood there talking to my friend and her mom, I almost ripped a hole in my shirt from nervousness. In high school and college, I would write down questions and have a classmate ask the teacher for me. I'm always nervous about saying something stupid, mainly because it will reflect badly on me. And... yeah. I still call my mom so she can help me rehearse what I should say to people over the phone.

It’s not only that I care far too much about what other people think, it’s also that I'm trying to find my security in something other than Christ.

I'm plagued with this insecurity. But for some reason God chooses to call me his child, his servant, and his friend. What's ridiculous about this is that he didn't only invite me, an outsider, into his palace gates to join him for a meal and then throw me back out -- just so that he could up his status as King. Instead, he has come out to the street, he has picked me up, bathed me, clothed me, given me a new name, and he feeds me daily. That alone is cause enough to be eternally grateful. But he doesn't stop there. He gives me an inheritance that can't be taken away from me...even from the most powerful in the world. And even better (or perhaps worse, in the most glorious sense), He takes all my shame away and puts it on himself.

While I'm constantly deflecting shame away from me, Christ became a target for all the disgrace that rightly belongs to me -- all that shame that should be on my permanent record.

I have all the approval I should ever want secured in the work of Jesus on my behalf, all the intimacy I should ever need secured in my relationship – my friendship – with the Almighty. Good gracious, how can I ignore it?