Movie Review

The other night I went to see The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, a British film based on the novel by Irish author John Boyne. I highly recommend that you go see it in the theater.

I came away realizing how relevant to us this film is as well as the time period that it depicts. How many holocausts are occurring around the world at this very instant, and how much do we choose to ignore? How often are we taught lies that are guised as common sense?

Each of the characters conformed to their expected roles -- all except for one character, an eight year old boy, who wasn't consciously standing up against discrimination or stereotypes, but rather acting out of love. He demonstrates the essence of friendship to someone who is meant to be his enemy.

Watching films like these often makes we wonder which character I would be if I lived during that time period: would I think for myself, or would I let others think for me? Would I stand on truth or would I buy into the lies? Perhaps I AM in that situation, and I don't have the clarity to understand it. God, open my eyes to the justice that you desire. I want to better understand what it means to be a minister of reconciliation.

"For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life." (Romans 5:10).

Seashells and dead butterflies

I think I made mention of my homeschooling past in an earlier post. Beware, this post is even scarier.

When I come home, the relics of this past haunt me. I went into what my mom calls "The Little Room" -- where she keeps my old wicker furniture, stuffed animals, Boxcar Children books and American girl dolls. Everything in there really is little -- and somehow reminds me of Alice in Wonderland.

Yesterday I went into The Little Room to put something into storage, and I discovered (or rediscovered) yet another trophy of my homeschool days: two drawers stuffed full of seashells, some of them even neatly stacked on top of one another -- biggest on the bottom, smallest on top. Are you kidding me? Where did all these sea shells come from? And why has my mom tolerated it all these years?

Then I began to recall the various things I used to collect, and the list forming in my head began to weigh heavy on my spirit: Pencils. Stamps. Stickers. Rocks, for which I even had my grandfather build a customized box. Pretty paper. Dead butterflies. Book marks. Anything shiny. Ribbons. Glass bottles. Beads. Leaves. Little tea sets, little cars, or anything that was cute and little. And last but not least, seashells.

Sometimes my poor mom, overwhelmed with the clutter, would kindly suggest that I go through my stuff and decide what I might like to throw away. To me, that was like asking me to give up my life's work.

What was the obsession? Why would I have "rescued" an expired butterfly and gently placed it in a jewelry box (other than to give it a proper burial, I suppose)? Why did I enjoy taking the handles off J.C. Penny paper bags and tying them around glass bottles? What was with the seashell Tower of Babel?

Even last night I was faced with a freakishly strong desire to keep the ribbons that held together a discount down blanket I had just bought at a department store. I spent 10 minutes trying to decide what I could do with them, battling the practical side of me that was saying, "Throw them away, throw them away!"

The only answer I can begin to give myself is that by nature I am a sub-creator. Though nowadays the practical side of me is more likely to kick in, I used to enjoy taking what was already out there in nature, categorizing it, giving it purpose, and sometimes combining two things to make something "new." Sometimes it was disastrous, and sometimes it was actually kind of cool. Now it's a little scary, but who knows what impact it made on the way I think about the world around me. Perhaps I have a better appreciation for the way God created order out of nothing, and will one day restore order to the chaos around us. He has promised to make everything new and right.

What did you collect as a kid, and why did you do it? What lessons can you learn from your strange past?

1st Day of Advent

"All heaven and earth resound with that subtle and delicately balanced truth that the old paths are the best paths after all."
- J.C. Ryle

Prayer for the First Sunday of Advent
Book of Common Prayer, 1789

Almighty God, give us grace
that we may cast away the works of darkness,
and put upon us the armor of light,
now in the time of this mortal life
in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility;
that in the last day,
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge both the quick and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who liveth and reigneth with thee
and the Holy Ghost,
one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Tyranny guised as freedom

I might be taking a risk here -- but I'm getting on a "conservative soapbox" for just a minute.

One of the basic premises of Obama's speech at Planned Parenthood seemed to be this: conservatism is obsolete ("culture wars are just so nineties!"), progressivism must take its place, and choice is common sense. Virtues such as fidelity and abstinence are good and all, but these are ideals, not reality. Unintended teen pregnancies are a tragedy, an illness, and we need to give girls access to the medicines that will help them get rid of it. Unintended babies are a national health problem, a limitation to our dreams.

My response: Can we seriously be tolerant of a policy that suggests that it is "tragic" for a girl to have to sacrifice her own dream and raise her child, but it is not a tragedy to vacuum a child from its mother's womb? At the heart of "choice" is a demand for freedom to do whatever we want, whenever we want. A society that values this false sense of freedom, and a government that encourages (and I fear even enforces) this type of mindset, I believe will never "prosper" (a word Obama also used).

If our government has the power to make policies regarding life, I believe it is not just Obama's mistake, it's a mistake on all of us who tolerate it. I believe we have two dangers on our hands: 1) We have invaded the prerogative of God, who is the creator and sustainer of life, and the One who determines from whence it comes, and 2) we are once again limiting freedom by legislating it. Freedom to pursue your dreams will not come from a set of laws or acts. Regulated freedom is no freedom at all, but rather tyranny in the guise of freedom and choice.

"Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

"Why, then, did God give them free will? Because free will, though it makes evil possible, is also the only thing that makes possible any love or goodness or joy worth having. A world of automata-- of creatures that worked like machines-- would hardly be worth creating. The happiness which God designs for His higher creatures is the happiness of being freely, voluntarily united to Him and to each other in an ecstasy of love and delight compared with which the most rapturous love between a man and a woman on this earth is mere milk and water. And for that they must be free." -- C.S. Lewis

"Because Christ conquered death, as shown in his resurrection from the grave, the final victory is assured. We can thus be cultural optimists, both realistic and idealistic at the same time."
-Darrow Miller in Discipling Nations

Prayer

"Prayer in the sense of petition, asking for things, is a small part of it; confession and penitence are its threshold, adoration its sanctuary, the presence and vision and enjoyment of God its bread and wine. In it God shows Himself to us. That He answers prayers is a corollary—not necessarily the most important one—from that revelation. What He does is learned from what He is...'God,' said Pascal, 'instituted prayer in order to lend to His creatures the dignity of causality.'"
- C.S. Lewis

John Piper articulates the privilege of prayer in John Piper's way:

E-Day Consolation

“In government, the sin of pride manifests itself in the recurring delusion that things are under control.” George Will

"He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Luke 1:32-33

"If God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you. Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." Luke 12:28-32

Bookshelf

Two books I'm excited to be reading:


"The fundamental principles of a culture, the story it accepts as true, its people's dreams, ideals, and vision, provide the foundation for its development."

"For much of the twentieth century, an intellectual war as raged within Christendom between those who would give priority to either evangelism or social action. Both sides are right, and both are wrong. Transformation means nothing less than radical change, in all spheres of life, as when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly. It is not merely a change in religious sentiments but a radical reorientation of a person's life."


"From the moment I arrived in Kurdistan, I felt as if I had fallen through the back door of the world and into a tragic magic kingdom -- the kind of place where tyrants' castles reigned over mist-filled valleys, beautiful damsels ran away with doomed princes, and ten-foot-tall heroes battled scaly green dragons as good clashed swords with evil."

New York Times article on Kurdistan

The famous NYT spotlighted Arbil, Kurdistan in their travel section last week. Check it out!

Fast Food Devotional Books and Puritans

Help me to honor thee by believing before I feel, for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith.

I've never been much of a "devotions book" girl, but I do remember one time, back in Jr. High, when I gave one of Rebecca St. James' devotional books my best shot. Unfortunately, as a 7th grader, my "devotion" time was probably more about hero-worship than God-worship. (Confession time: I totally wanted to be Rebecca St. James then, and devoutly practiced my singing of "It's God! Truly Go-hod!" every day after school. Sigh.)

Since then, I suppose I've not been too keen on Christian devotional books that start out as a devotional book. What I mean is, a book that was meant to sell itself to people looking for that perfect devotional book. If the writer puts together a work with their eye on its publication, I venture to say it's more often geared toward someone like me with hero-worship tendencies. For example, Christianbook.com's best-seller list includes:

1 - A book by "America's best preacher," Max Lucado, an iconic figure in today's Christian book club.
2 - A book featured on Kirk Cameron's movie, Fireproof. 40 days of learning the true nature of love based on a catchy game of truth or dare.
3 - A leadership expert's meditations on success and teamwork.
4 - An inspiring teen devotional meant to encourage youth "embarking on a new path in life."

Don't get me wrong, I don't think best-sellers are bad. And I don't think there is anything wrong with a book that appeals to a certain generation, or even a book that sells because of the reputation of the author. But among the books I mention above, one common selling-point seems to be: uplifting, inspiring and brimming with hope. Of course. Because it's no mystery that we all crave positive reinforcement. Me especially.

I like searching for fast-food answers to my greatest failures. When I've genuinely screwed up, I want instant reprieve, a quick fix: how do I cover this one up? What do I do to make people realize this just isn't as it seems? I admit to feeling a little boost of confidence when someone tells me, "Oh, you're just wonderful. Don't be too hard on yourself. You didn't mean it." The high lasts for a minute, and then fades, strangely. Fortunately, I've been blessed with some very true friends who help me admit my failures. "Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy." (Proverbs 27:6). I hope you have friends like these in your life. If you don't, call me and I'll set you up.

I suppose the real reason for my search for easy answers is that I don't know where my true encouragement comes from. There's the self-gratifying illusion of encouragement: "You're not as bad as you seem. Buck up!; It could be worse. Besides, Jesus wants you to be happy." And then there's the self-deprivating, lazy form of encouragement: "You're God's puppet; give it up, check out -- let go and let God." I'm not sure which is worse. But I fluctuate between both when my security is not in Christ alone.

All that to say (finally), I'm currently a fan of The Valley of Vision, a compilation of Puritan Prayers. The prayers are full of depth -- themes of depravity, God's grace, redemption, sanctification. I find them powerful to pray, because I am speaking of all these things simultaneously, not thematically. As I am uncovering some of my sin, I'm also discovering God's infinite mercy and sovereignty.


As an example, one of the prayers I read recently was entitled, "The Divine Will." The quote at the beginning of this post is from this prayer. This sentence struck me because I was reminded of how readily I test the truth and validity of God's promises for me based on how I feel about them... and I do this before I believe them.

I received an email from a fellow believer who recently decided to go back out on the mission field. In the email, he repented of this same tendency. He said, "Being the control freak that I am, I wanted to see how God would work out all the physical details. In prayer, God showed me that I wouldn't accept similar behavior from one of my own children. I would want my kids to trust me, obey, and patiently wait to see how I've arranged things."

When I read that, I was reminded of my own faithlessness... and how I try (and fail) to diminish God's glory by glorifying my own feelings. I thought about that one sentence I had read: Help me to honor thee by believing before I feel, for great is the sin if I make feeling a cause of faith. .

In short (because this post is getting awfully long): I crave positive feelings. But great is my sin if I turn to my own feelings before trusting and relying on Him.

A great lesson learned from a dead Puritan guy's words.

Arbil

Well, it finally hit me. A few nights ago, at 4 am, I sat straight up in bed and thought, "I'm going to Iraq. Huh. Are you kidding?" And then I went back to sleep and dreamed about shopping. (Which is weird, by the way, that I was dreaming about something so ordinary. Usually my dreams are about talking raisins or quadratic equations -- funny that those rhyme kind of.)

Preparing for this trip has been unlike any other experience. I feel like I should be getting some sort of a how-to manual in the next few weeks...? This just might be a defining moment in my history of adventures! Truly, I do feel that God is preparing my heart. I can't explain it, but He's been at work.

In the meantime, I'm learning all I can about the city of Arbil, where I'll be living. Arbil was once a Jewish kingdom, then became the center of Christianity (around AD 100). It wasn't until around the 13th century that it became predominately Muslim. Below are some cool pictures I found:

Sushi the Cat

My roommate Chelsea and I somehow managed to adopt a neighborhood cat named Sushi. Every morning as I'm about to leave, she bounds up to the front porch step and begs for attention. Occasionally I'll bring her a little dish with water or milk. Today I finally stooped down to give her a little TLC. She was in kitty heaven.

Can I come in, please?

The Good Cup

I've been housesitting in Franklin this week, 5 minutes away from one of my all-time favorite Franklin spots: The Good Cup.


It's Saturday morning and I'm sitting here while an older gentleman plays classical guitar softly in the background. Someone just requested "Moon River," one of my favorites. Ah, I could stay here all day. But there's much to be done today.

It's a mere 10 minutes south of Green Hills, so if you're ever passing through, be sure to stop in, buy a cup of coffee and greet my old neighbors. It's right off Hillsboro Road, on your right, across from Grassland Market.

ESV Study Bible -- coming Oct. 15

I'm all about The English Standard Version. It's a precise translation, and yet beautifully written and easy to read.

I was excited to discover that the ESV is coming out on October 15 with a study version. It includes commentary produced by over 95 contributing scholars, full color illustrations and maps, and if you buy the hard copy edition you get the online edition for free. Considering that more often than not my experience reading the Bible is usually characterized by a few "huhs?" here and there, I trust that this is going to be a really helpful tool.

Third Party Candidate Debate - Revolution vs. Reformation

A typical vice of American politics is the avoidance of saying anything real on real issues.
-Theodore Roosevelt

The room was small, not all the chairs were filled, and the signs were home-made. But the air was thick with fervor. Those who did fill the chairs were more than likely eager to hear something different than the Obama/McCain rhetoric. (It's all a blur to me now -- I can't pick out who's who anymore.)

And in light of all the finger-pointing that happened during last night's presidential debate, I feel that the third party debate was a little more dignified. There was less smooth-talking and more passionate blundering. There was more substance, despite the abundance of mistakes. In short, it didn't trigger my gag reflexes.

In some ways, I am thankful that there are third party candidates running. I would like to say that it's a trademark of our American heritage of freedom to see so many views represented in one room. The sad thing is, however, that it's a remarkable achievement if one of these candidates can even make it onto a ballot.

Despite my appreciation for different views, I still found myself a little worn down by political rhetoric and, in my opinion, unrealistic ideals... basically there was some mumbo jumbo polluting the air, topped off by a little Kumbaya speech. One of the candidates present (though actually the VP candidate) I couldn't completely write-off, however. And this candidate, thankfully, received the most applause during the whole evening. My friend Josh gives his take on the evening in his blog. As he says, the constitutionalist candidate basically articulated that the federal government is "a bloated entity that has overstepped its bounds of authority, and that the vast majority of problems it causes could be almost immediately remedied by returning to a 'Constitutional' Federal Government."

People feel the weight of corruption, even if they can't rightly point fingers at the source. (Though obviously McCain and Obama are experts at this.) I suppose it's part of the tension of living in a fallen world and yearning for something good. You never hear presidential candidates admitting this, however. Instead, they promise real change using revolutionary tactics. They are going to start something new, risking the very same mistakes we've always made in the past. I just fear that revolutionary approaches like the one that the socialist party offers, more often than not, create a model for a "Nanny government."

Yes, people are ready for change. We've seen what "doesn't work." But haven't we already changed enough? Have we not veered from the original intent? Shouldn't we look back at the past and discover what has worked? There is always room for change, but I don't think we understand the dangers of overturning a system. That's why I lean most heavily toward the constitutionalist approach.

To me, revolutionary tactics often fail to recognize that people are the problem, not the system. Power and money is a driving force -- it motivates some of the most hideous acts. Reformation recognizes that we need to reevaluate our motives and ideas, take the bull by the horns and re-commit ourselves to a standard.

As long as power and money are a driving force behind politics, we might always be running in these circles. I don't know about you, but I feel a little dizzy.

Jesus + nothing

24 So when the crowd saw that Jesus was not there, nor his disciples, they themselves got into the boats and went to Capernaum, seeking Jesus. 25 When they found him on the other side of the sea, they said to him, “Rabbi, when did you come here?” 26 Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you are seeking me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. 27 Do not labor for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you. For on him God the Father has set his seal.” 28 Then they said to him, “What must we do, to be doing the works of God?” 29 Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” - John 6

God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing. - C.S. Lewis

Every day, I wearily, fruitlessly, search for personal happiness, freedom, strength, peace -- whether within myself, within my community, or in other peoples' words. I swim across the sea and arrive at Capernaum, looking for false hope...quick fixes to my hunger for something real. I'm allured by the same old same old, captivated by the worldly wise, impressed with my own ability to simulate some degree of okayness, and then utterly discouraged when all of this fails me. What can I do to make myself feel okay about myself again? There's nothing I can do that will solve this problem completely, because I was never meant to live for myself.

But then even when I realize this, I want to tack things on to my relationship with Jesus. Jesus + my own efforts. Jesus + the compliments of others. This is where I truly miss the boat.

Christ and his fullness are all that I can hope in. I gain from him, because he is complete. As much as I try (and will continue to try) to make amends with myself and lick my wounds, I'm lost without his salvation, grace, and completion.

Oh heart, believe and trust on Him again this morning -- He is all you need.

But it's just not fair. So let's tax 'em.

"We don't call a redistribution in my neighborhood...not giving Exxon Mobil another $4 billion tax cut...and giving it to middle class people to be able to pay to get their kids to college, we don’t call that redistribution. We call that fairness.”
-Joseph Biden

While I think that his definition of fairness is as lacking as his syntax in this sentence, Mr. Biden probably appealed to most American's definitions of fairness...you know, the stuff we learn in pre-school; "everyone should have a turn." And while I agree that people making $250,000 should be using their wealth to benefit others, should they be forced to do so by the government? I'm not sure I can give a good answer -- but I can say that I think we have a higher calling than that:

8 I say this not as a command, but to prove by the earnestness of others that your love also is genuine. 9 For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich. 10 And in this matter I give my judgment: this benefits you, who a year ago started not only to do this work but also to desire to do it. 11 So now finish doing it as well, so that your readiness in desiring it may be matched by your completing it out of what you have. 12 For if the readiness is there, it is acceptable according to what a person has, not according to what he does not have. 13 For I do not mean that others should be eased and you burdened, but that as a matter of fairness 14 your abundance at the present time should supply their need, so that their abundance may supply your need, that there may be fairness."
- 2 Corinthians 8:8-14

So while I may agree with Mr. Biden on some level, I think I have to disagree.

All this talk about numbers

Sometimes I don't pay attention to my verbage. I use the word "awesome" to describe something that is nice, and I use "horrible" to denote something that is relatively bad.

I admit I haven't really paid much attention to the words being used on Wall Street and Congress... until recently... when someone shared with me this analogy:

1 million seconds = 11 days
1 billion seconds = 32 years
1 trillion seconds = 317 centuries

If you use copy paper...
1 million sheets = 330 feet
1 billion sheets = 62 miles
1 trillion sheets = 62,000 miles
(the earth's circumference is 24,900 mi.)

My mouth is still dropping.

Joining the Apple Cult

So I've left the PC world for the fascinating world of the Mac. The pictures below illustrate the range of my emotions since the switch (not to mention, a testament to the fun I've been having with Photo Booth -- by the way, why do people enjoy taking photos of themselves?): confused and maybe a little shy, interested, fascinated, and loving it!

He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

- Micah 6:8

Are faith and science compatible?

I actually snagged this from someone else's blog.

Are faith and science compatible? Should we bring God into scientific matters? P.J. O'Rourke entertains us with an insightful answer in his article in Search Magazine.

There are cashews in my dryer

My roommate and I had the same dream last night. And we both awoke convinced of the same opinion.

Also, I nearly plunged into another car today, but I remained quite calm and didn't miss a beat in my air drum solo.

And finally, I discovered some wandering thoughts that have been lurking about in my head for some time. I finally managed to pin them down and clothe them with words. It felt good.

My dear Watson, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.

The best theology

I attended a conference this past week at Parish Presbyterian Church on Christian Classical education. You might be relieved to know I wasn't going only to gratify my appetite for all things nerdy. I know I don't have to justify myself, but just in case, I'll tell you that there were practical reasons :) -- For one, I'll be helping to put together a teacher training manual for the Classical School of the Medes. Also, I'll likely be traveling to Iraq this January to teach at CSM, so a refreshment world-view training course was helpful.

One of the sessions I chose was on art in the classroom -- teaching towards beauty, goodness and truth. The speaker commented on how classical schools (in particular) tend to get the goodness and truth thing down well, but that beauty is a struggle. Beauty is often thought of as a subcategory of truth. But actually, it is essential to tying the other two (goodness and truth) together. Beauty is the visible manifestation of the other things. It is the first and sometimes last thing we notice about someone or something.

Because we often think of beauty as a subcategory, we tend to philosophize about it and theorize it more than we practice it. In other words, we talk our heads off about good art and bad art, but we never give a kid a paintbrush. At least, that was my experience. I'm glad I took aesthetics in high school, but I also wish I had been given a pencil and told to draw it. Today, I can write you a thesis paper about the biblical standards of beauty, but I'm sure I still don't have enough wisdom -- literally "skillful fingers" -- to actually believe it, practice it, taste it for myself.

There's the other side, too, of course. Some people, I've noticed, practice beauty (or think they are practicing it), but never think about what it is that they are glorifying through their production of art, music, writing, etc. Is it glorifying nature? Chaos? Is it celebrating our depravity? Or is it pointing us to that which is truly worthy of our honor? And is it even any good?

The best theology and philosophy, as I was taught in this session, is immensely practical.

So thennn....I was reading James 1, which talks about being both a hearer and a doer of the word. The last verse states: "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world."

Wait a minute...hang on...are you saying that even my best attempts at religion, theology and philosophy don't even make it on the radar? All that reading I did in high school and college, all the conversations I've had with friends and colleagues about methodology, all those trips I took to the museum -- those aren't enough to make me a pretty well rounded individual?

But, but....wait. I'm a fantastic note-taker, an intent listener, and I'm great at regurgitating flowery nonsense. I've also read some books on subjects like poverty, tyranny, the just war theory, and sanctification. Doesn't that count for anything?

I guess what James is saying is: um, that's a negative. "For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like."

So if I've learned anything, I guess I've learned that I have some work to do. Easier said than done, right?

What I'm reading right now (or attempting to read):





What I'm listening to:

“God is looking for people through whom He can do the impossible – what a pity that we plan only for the things we can do by ourselves.” – A.W. Tozer

Cafetière

Recently I've been re-discovering the beauty of the French Press. Unlike the typical drip brewing mechanism (like my trusty Krups), the press (or coffee plunger, as it's referred to in some places) retains more of the natural flavor and essential oils of the coffee bean.

I used to brew coffee like this at the little Orthodox cafe I worked for a couple of summers ago. I forgot all about its charm until I discovered a dusty 8 oz. French Press coffee pot in our kitchen a few days ago. I'm actually not sure where it came from. I need to remember to ask Chelsea about that.

Along with French fries, French kissing, and the French horn, I'm delighted that the French had the sense to popularize something so wonderful.

Intensity of Love

If you're anything like me, you often find yourself getting worn down by your own habits and patterns. One of my patterns has to do with the way I love others. At one point, I'm wholeheartedly engaged in my community, meeting with friends, trying to stay culturally aware, and leaving very little space in my brain for thinking. At another point, I'm a energy-less clam who makes no time for others.

One explanation might be that I'm a borderline introvert-extrovert (according to the Facebook Meyers Briggs application). Or it could just be that my affections run rampant, with seemingly no real object to set them upon.

This is why reading Spurgeon this morning was encouraging. He helps clarify this question that I wrestle with: what does it mean to be in the world but not of it? Hold loosely to worldly affections, and lament my lack of love for the One who is truly lovely and worthy of all love. The full entry is here, but I'll share the little blurb that got my blood pumping:

"It is written, and nothing can blot out the sentence, "The upright love Thee." The intensity of the love of the upright, however, is not so much to be judged by what it appears as by what the upright long for. It is our daily lament that we cannot love enough. Would that our hearts were capable of holding more, and reaching further. Like Samuel Rutherford, we sigh and cry, "Oh, for as much love as would go round about the earth, and over heaven—yea, the heaven of heavens, and ten thousand worlds—that I might let all out upon fair, fair, only fair Christ." Alas! our longest reach is but a span of love, and our affection is but as a drop of a bucket compared with His deserts. Measure our love by our intentions, and it is high indeed; 'tis thus, we trust, our Lord doth judge of it. Oh, that we could give all the love in all hearts in one great mass, a gathering together of all loves to Him who is altogether lovely!"

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.)

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?

Bitter and Sweet, by John Newton

Once in a while I like reading some of John Newton's letters. I find some of them on the website, "Fire and Ice: Puritan and Reformed Writings." There's other good stuff there, too. Like this poem -- which expresses the tension I feel day in and day out as I go through life in a fallen world. I'm still not sure what it means to both live in this tension and also in the reality of grace as I'm constantly looking for relief from frustration and disappointments. The poem teaches me a little about what it looks like to pray in the midst of this tension: "Often Lord, repeat your grace."

1 Kindle, Saviour, in my heart,
A flame of love divine;
Hear, for mine I trust thou art,
And sure I would be thine;
If my soul has felt thy grace,
If to me thy name is known;
Why should trifles fill the place
Due to thyself alone?

2 'Tis a strange mysterious life
I live from day to day;
Light and darkness, peace and strife,
Bear an alternate sway:
When I think the battle won,
I have to fight it o'er again;
When I say I'm overthrown,
Relief I soon obtain.

3 Often at the mercy-seat,
While calling on thy name,
Swarms of evil thoughts I meet,
Which fill my soul with shame.
Agitated in my mind,
Like a feather in the air,
Can I thus a blessing find?
My soul, can this be pray'r?

4 But when Christ, my Lord and Friend,
Is pleas'd to show his pow'r
All at once my troubles end,
And I've a golden hour;
Then I see his smiling face,
Feel the pledge of joys to come:
Often, Lord, repeat this grace
Till thou shalt call me home.

Show me love

Is our society tolerant of a toxic syndrome called tolerance?

Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness.
-C.S. Lewis

Rejoice, then rest

I was reading Philippians 4, and was struck by something Paul says. He urges the Philippians to rejoice in the Lord, and "then the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Then he says later in verses 8 and 9 to focus on the things of the Lord and "the God of peace will be with you."

Though I've read these verses lots before, I've never truly noticed the arrangement of Paul's words. He talks experiencing the peace of God in the context of rejoicing/enjoying the things God has for us. It seems backwards -- like I should only be able to rejoice once I feel a certain amount of peace or calm in my life. And I suppose that is true at times. But it's also a glorious and difficult truth about the Christian life that we are called to rejoice even in our pain.

"Joy is something we cannot produce ourselves; it is a fruit of the Holy Spirit" ("Thru the Bible" commentary, McGee). Joy is a gift from the Holy Spirit, and peace comes from our Lord -- the Prince of Peace. And we can pray for these things, and God supplies us with these things.

McGee writes about it like this: "Notice that we entered this passage in anxiety, with worry, and we come out of the passage with peace. Between the two was prayer. Have things changed? Not really. The storm may still be raging, the waves still rolling high, the thunder still resounding. Although the storm has not abated, something has happened in the individual. Something has happened to the human soul and the human mind. In our anxiety we want God to change everything around us. 'Give us this.' 'Don't let this happen." "Open up this door.' We should be praying, "Oh, God, change me.' Prayer is the secret of power."

A hymn

O heart bereaved and lonely,
Whose brightest dreams have fled
Whose hopes like summer roses,
Are withered crushed and dead
Though link by link be broken,
And tears unseen may fall
Look up amid thy sorrow,
To Him who knows it all

O cling to thy Redeemer,
Thy Savior, Brother, Friend
Believe and trust His promise,
To keep you till the end
O watch and wait with patience,
And question all you will
His arms of love and mercy,
Are round about thee still

Look up, the clouds are breaking,
The storm will soon be o'er
And thou shall reach the haven,
Where sorrows are no more
Look up, be not discouraged;
Trust on, whate'er befall
Remember, O remember,
Thy Savior knows it all

Life in Reverse

Sigh. One month and two days later, she revisits her blog. "Hello blog, it's been a while."

So I found this poem I wrote a couple of years ago. I can't remember what inspired it, but I think I was somewhat distracted.

My life is in reverse.
Breakfast tastes better at night.
My dreams grow under the sunlight.
Like a flower, they open up.
I am in constant reverie.

Rest becomes a burden,
Seeking pleasure a pain,
I am caught in a trance,
Laughing, scowling,
I know not which to hate.

2008 Runner's Results

I forgot what it felt like to cross the finish line of the half-marathon. My body was pretty much in intense pain by about mile 11 and remained in pain until I finished, but I was incredibly happy. It's the paradox of long-distance running. But it was worth the personal victory: I shaved off almost 8 minutes from last year's time. Cool!

The weather was spectacular, despite the frequent rain puddles along the way. It may have been a little too great, however, because soon after I stopped running my body temperature seemed to drop dramatically and my lips turned blue. Ben and Katie pulled off their top layers to give me and other friends were searching around for towels that hadn't been drenched in sweat. It was a special moment.

Yay for 2008!

Sometimes it's difficult to discern the best place to put your hard-earned dollar. I know this all too well, living in Nashville, where the music and the coffee are always competing for your attention.

Well, my attention is usually asking for it.

So is this seemingly unavoidable competition actually an illusion? I could just as easily make my own entertainment. But then the economy would collapse (like poor old Starbucks) and George W would have to give me $600. Although I guess I am okay with that idea, especially since I missed out on that perk this year (I was a dependent for 2 months during 2007).

The Reason for God

Okay, I know I'm harping on this book. And the theme of this blog seems to be revolving around it. Yeah. Sorry.

Tim Keller (or "Timikins" as my roommate affectionately calls him in her blog) is becoming one of my favorite preachers from afar. He's a disciplined theologian and articulates the gospel really well. In the video below, he discusses the premise of his new book called The Reason for God at a Google event. His language is down-to-earth, he's compassionate in his dealing with skepticism, and he stays away from the religious jargon that usually discourages non-Christians (and Christians) from reading Christian-y titles. Maybe that's why this one has landed on the New York Times Best Seller list.

It's seriously good and so should you..... um, read it, I mean.

"I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage, like the despicable fabrication of the impotent and infinitely small Euclidean mind of man, that in the world's finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, for the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood that they've shed; that it will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify all that has happened." -Dostoevsky

"They say of some temporal suffering, 'No future bliss can make up for it,' not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory." - C.S. Lewis

Someone Made It

I'm moving into a new place in a couple of weeks (where that new place is, God only knows -- hopefully He'll share this piece of information with me soon). This means I have two weeks to find an apartment, pack up my stuff, run a 1/2 marathon, move into a new place, and celebrate my 23rd birthday. Am I stressed? Well....yes, a little bit. But these are all good things, and I can count more blessings than I can problems. "That's the attitude, Jules!" Maybe, but I guarantee that plenty of complaining is on the horizon.

Whenever I pack up to move from one house to another, I always come across evidence of both some of the darkest and the sweetest things in my life. Even though it slows the process significantly, I enjoy rummaging through old pictures and journals. Journal entries are great places to remember how much you've grown. I can recover some of the things I learned even a year ago and have since forgotten.

Yesterday, I came across a journal entry that, for some reason, haunted me. Not because it was scary or extraordinary (or even well-written or thought-out), but because I can't remember having written it. And it was only last year. The first line caught my attention, like I had picked up a random novel in a bookstore. From then on I felt like I was reading someone else's words. It was moving and strange. Last year's me (a ghost) had some things to share with this year's me...things that this year's me had forgotten:

"What if we all thought like Amelia, with her constant insistence that 'someone made it'? Two and a half year old Amelia Twit has taught me a lesson with her simple yet very profound words. She showed me all the little toys in the room, pointed to the different colors, looked up at me with her big brown eyes and said, 'Someone made it.' It became the mantra for the evening I was with her. I wish it could become my mantra for life. I wish that every time I looked into the eyes of someone I have known for the longest time, or someone I have only just met, I could hear Amelia's voice saying, 'Someone made him.' It's something so crucial to understanding the significance behind all we come into contact with in our lives -- that Someone was the mastermind behind that face. Someone made the eyes that cry out for hope and acceptance. It's so easy to forget, too, especially when we are insistent upon the idea that everything good in our lives comes from ourselves. With this type of selfish mindset, we miss out on so much -- we miss out on recognizing the different evidences surrounding us, all of which are pointing to the God who made everything."

Hey Jude

Trivia: What was the original title of this song? (Answer at the bottom of post!)



"Hey Jules"

Suffering

Once, a friend looked at me with suspicion because he saw that my internet home page is Fox News. My argument was that I like to keep up with the things that are happening in the world -- through a "balanced, non-biased" news source (ha, as if). But honestly, more often than not, I glance at the first page full of stories about school shootings and negligent parents and I quickly navigate to my g-mail. Even that quick glance can make my heart burn with sadness and sometimes anger.

Where is God in the midst of suffering? It seems to be a hot topic relevant to every century and generation.

Craig Brown, my pastor, quoted three different people last week in his sermon on Genesis 50, and I found the words to be very enlightening. As a little background, this passage in Genesis documents a ridiculously hard-to-believe story about Joseph (you know, the guy with the coat of many colors) who is faced with the option of forgiving his brothers for the intense suffering they put him through, or punishing them. He says, "Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good..." So Joseph takes himself out of the picture and points to the character of God.

Joseph's response is counter-intuitive; and the picture of God that the story illustrates is as Craig says, a "non sequitur." It's supernatural. Perhaps it illustrates the idea of justice well, but it also illustrates God's goodness. God used the very elements of the brothers' evil to bring eternal redemption to the world. This is goodness, right? But a goodness that's hard to wrap our minds around.

If we are honest with ourselves, it's hard to escape that question that has been around forever -- "If God is both powerful and good, then where is he in the midst of suffering? Where was He when 6 million Jews died in the Holocaust? Where is He in Africa right now as millions suffer through the AIDS epidemic? Where was He during 9/11?"

One man, Epicurus (Greek philosopher, 341 BC), put it this way:

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able?
Then he is not omnipotent.
Is he able, but not willing?
Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing?
Then whence cometh evil?
Is he neither able nor willing?
Then why call him God?”

Tim Keller, an active pastor in New York (who I heard preach last year and he's great), says in his New York Times Best Seller Reasons for God (which I haven't but intend to read!):

"If you have a god great and transcendent enough to be mad at because he hasn't stopped evil and suffering in the world, then you have a god great and transcendent enough to have good reasons for allowing it to continue that you can't know."

And Bill Lane, a New Testament scholar, says:

"Jesus came to be with the Father for an interlude right before his betrayal, but he found hell rather than heaven open to him, and he staggered."

Despite what we think about how much God cares about our present suffering, at least we know that God is deeply in touch with our suffering because he experienced it to its fullest.

My dog was full of paradoxes. Her middle name was Grace, but she was far from graceful. She was stubborn but sweet, independent but loving, and though she was only about 15 inches tall she had the superiority of a Great Dane and the aggression of a bulldog. Above all, Missy was more than a family dog. She was a friend who consoled, an energetic entertainer, and a playmate who made every game of hide and seek exciting.

She died of a tumor about six months ago, and my dad (who is generally pretty level-headed) shed his share of tears, and then had her cremated. Her ashes were scattered in a local doggy cemetery.

I learned a lot of lessons from my dog, honestly. But one of the greatest things I learned from her stemmed from yet another paradox in her personality.

She loved adventure. On occasion, she would find the courage to escape the yard. More than once, I saw her willingly bear the pain of the electric fence to chase a bird, the whole time anticipating the sweet release that would come after the shock. She saw an opportunity to explore the realms of nature, and she seized it, her little legs taking her wherever her nose led.

Even more than adventure, however, she loved home. She was tired from the day's adventure, and she knew where she could find rest. The only problem she faced was getting back through the electric fence. It didn't seem so easy anymore. Humbly, she sat at the edge of the yard and waited. As time passed and no one saw her, she let out a small bark to draw attention to herself. Slowly, the small barks turned into bigger barks, and soon, tired as she was, she let out cries of pitiful desperation.

I remember walking outside to retrieve her. She sat so poised, so as to maintain some level of dignity. But as soon as I was three feet away her ears lowered and her head cowered submissively. "Oh, Missy," I would say, as I reached down to pick up the pup and bring her safely across the line of defense. Though she knew she had been wrong and that she may face the consequences of her behavior, she also knew that once she was in my arms she was free from the pain. She had her fun, but she was ready to be safe and dependent.

This little dog taught me that freedom always comes with a cost. In my lifetime I've enjoyed a great amount of freedom. For one, I'm in America. And despite the misconception that most people have about home schoolers being socially repressed, I actually had a relatively large amount of free time (most of which I spent collecting things like stickers and rocks -- but that's another topic for another day).

It's hard to recognize your freedom as a gift when you have so much of it. Eventually, it has become part of me. But of course, this is not to say that I've always used my freedom well. I tend to be quite stingy with it, viewing it as something I've earned. When in fact, I inherited it. I could just have easily been born into a situation of abandonment and loss. So what's the deal? What did I do to get all this material freedom?

But then there's another type of freedom. The freedom to live under God's law. Seems like a contradictory statement -- perhaps two contradictory ideas: freedom and law. But the gospel is full of paradoxes (see a theme running through here?), and yet very clear. Jesus came to fulfill the law so that we could be free from the requirements of the law (which is perfection), and live as free people...but still with a love for the law. In the Psalms, David raves about the law and how amazing it is and how much he wants to meditate on it and love it more and more. The Apostle Paul, who had his share of preaching to people confused about this idea, writes,

Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants[1] of God.

It's hard for me to grasp the concept of living free as a servant of Christ, having been born in an abundance of material freedom. Maybe that's why some people I've met in places like Honduras seem to take their faith and calling to live as servants of God way more seriously. They see themselves as part of an eternal family of rich inheritance.

I can't count the number of times I'm tempted to think of my freedom as synonymous with laziness or craziness. The thing I need to understand is that it's synonymous with work and rest, work and rest. Resting in the freedom that Christ bought for me, and working as a servant for the building of his kingdom -- because this inheritance of freedom from the law should only produce an envious desire to love the things Jesus loved, and to be consumed with longing for God's life-giving law.

Thoughts By My Mom

Reading your blog reminded me of listening to a radio cast sometime before Christmas when the speaker was encouraging listeners to spend more time focusing on Christ and less time focusing on daily routines such as driving kids to soccer, buying groceries, etc. I began thinking about what he said and strongly disagreed. Christ has put us in a place where we sometimes MUST drive kids to soccer and buy groceries. Why can’t we carry out our daily mundane schedules and glorify Christ through at the same time - through them? I think I understand what the speaker was attempting to say, but he said it in the wrong way. And we know that the right thing done in the wrong way……G. K. Chesterton once said, “The more extraordinary think in the world is an ordinary man and his ordinary wife and their ordinary children.” I would add, “doing ordinary things.” Your daily post was a reminder that our choices can definitely be “all about me”, but others, such as driving kids to soccer practice, are worthy activities that can glorify Christ. Drink that great coffee and may we all continue to be reminded that if we had all the answers and did everything in the right way, he never would have needed to step out of heaven and do what he did for us.

Love, Mom

Daily Grind and Glory

This morning I awoke at my usual hour: 6:15. I dragged myself out of bed, made some strong coffee, showered, stared at the wall (a very important ritual), and made a decision to skip the typical hair routine and let it frizz.

Then I got a call from my boss saying I should come into work late because of the snow.

Hooray! Snow day!

I had an extra hour and a half to do whatever I wanted. I could climb back in bed, make more coffee, make up a dance to an Imogen Heap song, finish that movie I started last week, make some headway in reading my Jane Austen novel, floss, make more coffee, whatever. After the initial enthusiasm subsided, I set to work: folding my laundry, updating my weekly calendar, and catching up on emails. Lame, I know. But sometimes that's life. Sometimes it's full of cheese.

In the midst of all of this, I flipped through my journal from my trip to the Dominican Republic I took in January, searching for an email address. And I came across a mostly blank page -- except for a single question I had scribbled down in a hurry during one of the sessions at the conference. The conference was on topics like women in the church, singleness, and marriage. Reading it again, I realize that it's possibly one of the most compelling questions I have been asked this whole year (which, I might add, is already 2/12 of the way over.... or, simplified, 1/6. Ah, thank you, GRE practice math tests).

The question is, do my daily choices reflect a preoccupation with my own vanity or with God's glory?

Well, I'm pretty aware that I can be vain as a peacock. But my vanity isn't always rooted in self-assurance, and is instead typically deeply founded in my insecurity, which for the most part is due to the fact that I have this illness called sin. The question I would have to ask myself next is, what does it mean to be preoccupied with God's glory? What does it look like in my own life to ascribe glory to God -- in everything? I would suppose that since, naturally, my own dark heart keeps me focused inward, it would take some acute awareness on my part to glorify God. So is it possible to be profoundly aware of my sin and sorrow and yet, at the same time, preoccupied with God's glory?

C.S. Lewis says, "As long as this deliberate refusal to understand things from above, even where such understanding is possible, continues, it is idle to talk of any final victory over materialism."

Is my preoccupation with God's glory dependent on my understanding of things above? I guess it only makes sense. To seek someone's glory means to understand the things they appreciate, enjoy, love. If we are satisfied with having some sketchy ideas about who God is, my guess is that we can't really be preoccupied with God's glory. Not to say that God can't glorify himself even through our foolishness.

I'm foolish as soon as I wake up in the morning. My mind sets to work thinking of all the things I can do to serve myself. How can I make my day work well for me? How can I convince people that I'm pretty great? What mask can I put on today to hide the guilty stains that lurk underneath this clean-cut exterior?

Now, making coffee is great. I think God wants us to enjoy coffee, because it tastes good, and good things come from God. God is good, coffee is good. They go hand in hand, right? While I'm enjoying these temporal things, I can also understand that these things come from God, and it should be my joy to set my hope on the Giver and not the riches themselves.

Thank God that He can bring glory to Himself even in our daily routines. It doesn't have to be through some big event. And thank God that my ability to focus on things eternal is not my final hope. Christ pours his grace out on me daily; this is my final hope.

Great Aunt Tina and Country Music

I think I may be behind the times, because I've stumbled upon many a blog (by way of keyword searches through Google) that have already been exhausted, including one of my own that I started back in '06 when I went to China. This was back when purple was my favorite color -- oh, so long ago, when I was young.

So I guess I've started dancing now that the party is over.

But it's okay -- I've sort of always bloomed a little later than anyone else. My mom still reminds me that I'll appreciate it one day. I'm 22 and I suppose I've begun to listen. Once you hit your 20s, you start paying attention to the conversations at Christmas that have to do with Great Aunt Tina's cataracts. You know that Tina is your mom's dad's sister, and family members have always told you you have her laugh. Once you're in your twenties, you start wondering if you've inherited her cataracts, too. Or -- am I the only one who does this?

But I've decided that while I'm waiting for the arthritis to set in, I'll be enjoying the precious gift of agility. I'll be running the Country Music half-marathon -- 13.1 miles -- on April 26 (two days before I turn 23!). Over the next couple of months, I may have several entries expressing anxiety about how far behind in training I am. Research has shone that I'll get across that finish line in one piece. I experimented last year -- and it actually worked! So far, so good.

Ah, how glorious it will be when Spring is finally here. Sunshine on my face, wind at my back. (Please, oh, please, Spring! You warm my soul, and you are welcome here.)