Sunday, October 28, 2007

Competition!

I love competition. Actually, that's not even true. I love winning. Winning feels good. Winning means you're better than someone else, and that feels good.

I'm just being honest here. I know it's not a good feeling to have, but I have it. Fortunately, I usually only do things that I'm good at without having to expend too much effort. Again, I'm just being honest. Usually, you can just avoid things if you're not particularly good at them; usually you can just walk away, no problem.

For example, I used to play tennis. I was even on the tennis team in high school. In all truth, I stunk at playing tennis. And, to top it off, I didn't even care too much about playing. I always forgot about our matches, so I'd forget to bring my racket on game days. In my head, I had these youthful aspirations of being the next Jennifer Capriati. But, I didn't want to work at it at all. So, I stuck to singing in the choir because that required no work, and I just eventually gave up tennis altogether.

But, the thing is, it didn't really matter that I quit tennis. I didn't even really care that other people were better at tennis than I was. Tennis meant nothing to me, and whether or not I was good at it was pretty meaningless as well. But, when you care about something, it's really hard to not want to do it well.

I was thinking about this the other day with relation to the spiritual life. And, I have to admit, that sometimes it's really hard to not feel competitive in that area. You see someone who seems to have it so together spiritually, and you just think, "Wow, that's what I want to be like." Or, even worse, you look back to how you felt at one time about God and your own spiritual life, and you can't help but think, "Why don't I feel exactly like that anymore? What's wrong with me?"

Now, I think that sometimes we really have to look deeply at ourselves and find out if there's anything amiss, anything that's making us feel spiritually out of sorts. I mean, if you'd suddenly gained five pounds, you'd ask yourself if your eating habits had changed, right? It only makes sense that you'd also try to find out if anything had changed in your spiritual life. Do you need to pray more? Do you need to spend more time reading your Bible? Those are good questions to ask, and sometimes they have to be asked.

But, I do think it's a bit dangerous when we start to idealize other people or think too fondly on past times in our spiritual lives, as if those represent a height of spirituality that we will never achieve or never regain. Other people can be a real encouragement to us, but we never really know what makes them act in the ways they do. They may spend a lot of time in prayer, not just because they are spiritually gifted in the area of prayer, but because they are at a difficult point in their lives and prayer is all that's keeping them going. I'm sure that if each of us looked closely at those times in our lives when we felt closest to God we might find that those were some of the hardest times in our lives. I know that's true for me.

But, I do still ask, "So, why don't I feel as excited, as motivated right now? And, why am I not growing exactly like that other person is growing?" And, then I have to realize that there are times I just have to be still, times when I just have to get to know God. I don't do stillness or getting to know people very well. In fact, I hate both of those things. But, that's the kind of work that has to be done, tough as it is. The other thing I have to realize is, in comparing myself to other people, I often forget that I'm not them, and I don't even know what makes them who they are, the troubles they might be facing and all of those things I would never want to experience.

To be honest, sometimes I want to just forget my racket at home because I'm not any good at this. Trusting God with everything is hard work, and sometimes its just rough because I'm never really good at considering how my actions affect others, much less considering God's will for my life. Sometimes I'm worse at this whole Christianity thing than I ever was at tennis, and I hate being bad at things.

But, when I feel like that, I always remember that, even if I decided to quit the team, God would still be there. Because, even when I tried to ignore Him, and I did try for quite a while, He was there. And, He let me know He was there. And, I just have to think that if, even while I blatantly ignored Him, God loved me enough to remind me of His presence, He must love me even through the days I seek Him but still feel a little blah. He must love me even as much as He loves those people who seem so excited while I feel a little weary.

God's time is not the same as ours, and He didn't make us the same as each other. We all have different gifts, and we're all a part of the Body of Christ. And, for that Body to function, its parts can't long to be other parts or try to compete with other parts. We just have to learn to be what we are, in His time.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Being Perfect

I am a perfectionist. Now, that might come as a surprise to most people who know me, and it would come as a total shock to anyone who saw the state of my apartment right now. But it's true.

I like things to be perfect, and it annoys me when they aren't. I like people to be perfect, too. And, well, it annoys me when they aren't. In my defense (and, of course, I'm going to defend myself), I expect the same perfection of myself.

I hate it when the things I do don't turn out perfectly. I mean, hate it. I hate it when I don't understand something perfectly, when I don't know the answer to a question, when I can't explain something the exact right way. I once had a near breakdown because, while ironing, my iron spit all sorts of nasty stuff onto my white shirt, so, I, instead, had to wear my blue shirt. The blue shirt was the exact same as the white shirt, except it was blue. So, there was really no reason for a near breakdown. It was the same shirt! The only difference was, it wasn't the exact shirt in the exact color that I had wanted to wear that day, so everything just seemed amiss. In short, it wasn't perfect. And, as long as I'm in the confessional spirit, I must admit that, yes, I am one of those people who doesn't care if the food she makes tastes fine of it doesn't also look fine. Appearance counts for a lot.

But, the thing is, perfection is rough because things are very rarely perfect. It gets even tougher when you bring real-live people into a situation. They never do quite what you want them to. Although, just between you and me, I think a lot of people would be much happier if they did exactly what I wanted them to. If we were all perfect, or at least never let anyone see that we weren't perfect, think how much nicer things would be. Unfortunately, people just don't seem to act that way. But, this shouldn't be too surprising. Sometimes you can't even count on inanimate objects.

Take my freezer for example. In fact, you can have it, if you like. It's completely broken, and it decided to take the refrigerator down with it. This, of course, came right after I had made yet another lovely pot of beans and bought some tasty fruit and yummy dairy products (organic, better for you) at the grocery store. I was really about to make my house a perfect place for cooking and feeling at home. And, then my whole refrigerator decided to die.

I have to admit, this was annoying. Like I said earlier, I'm annoyed when things aren't perfect. I've been annoyed at myself lately too because I've been pretty blah. I think, "Just a couple of weeks ago, I felt so excited about everything I was reading, and now I'm getting somewhat lazy about my reading and Bible Study. Why am I not perfectly adhering to all that I know I should be doing when I know that concentrating on those things makes me work better?" Of course, there's the word "perfect." Why doesn't my refrigerator work perfectly? Why don't I work perfectly?

I guess, it's quite simply because we don't. There are things that make us work imperfectly. Tests come up; papers are due; reading for classes has to get done. And, when these things happen, it makes us lose focus of the reading and the Bible Study. It's annoying, in part because it messes with the perfect balance we've created. But, it does teach us something. In the case of my reading and Bible Study, I've learned how important and necessary keeping up with those things is to my well-being.

Perhaps more importantly, I'm learning that I can't always count on having exactly enough time to do my reading or Bible Study and that, sometimes, it might not even feel that great to do those things. But, I think that it's in those times that we really have to focus even harder. After all, things will never be perfect, but we can work hard to make things better, while allowing ourselves a little time to fail, a little time to be less than perfect.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

House Cleaning

Lately, I've been cleaning house. For those who know me, you know this is no small feat. I don't like cleaning house, so I avoid it as long as possible.

The sad truth is that when you wait to clean house, it just makes the cleanup more of a chore. You spend forever figuring out what to do with the various things you've collected since the last time you cleaned, trying to determine the worth of all your belongings. What gets to stay? What has to go? What do I actually use? What do I finally need to give up?

These are all the questions I'm asking. But, the things is, I'm doing a serious cleaning. I'm trying to figure out what things I should keep, what things are actually good for me to have. And, you know, it's difficult to do this after a long time of not doing this sort of cleanup.

You see, I started thinking about what I value. And, part of that is realizing that some of the stuff that surrounds me, some of the things I've collected, have really no value. In fact, much of it has negative value. Coming to terms with that isn't easy. I've made a world of all these things, and they have a lot to do with how I understand myself and all that surrounds me. But, having them is kind of like viewing the world through a dirty lens. You just can't see it the way it's supposed to be seen; things aren't as clear as they're meant to be.

So, the cleaning started.

And, as I cleaned, I realized that I had all of these things that I had put before God. I realized that I had so many things that I had put in between me and God. It started to worry me. It started to worry me that I wouldn't be able to clean enough or throw out enough to be able to get rid of all of those things that I'd put in between us.

I have to say, this was no small worry. I'd pray. I'd worry. It would still bother me. So, I'd pray more. I'd worry more. How could I mend this division? Was it even possible?

Then I realized that it was possible and not even that hard. I'd like to say that I had an epiphany while hiking in the mountains or while doing something amazing. But, truthfully, I was just sitting at my computer, listening to a song--"O Love Divine." And, you know, I just started thinking about God's love and how infinite it is.

And, then it just made sense. I had put many things in between us. But, God never had. He had been there always, putting nothing between Himself and me.

With that in mind, things just didn't seem so hopeless. There will always be things, even good and positive things, that take my attention from Him, but His attention will never be taken away from me. And, though this cleanup is necessary, I have to realize that taking away all these things isn't what makes me close to God. What makes me close to God is the very fact that He is close to me.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Race in Miami

This blog comes to you from the beautiful and humid city of Miami. That's right. I am currently in Miami, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. It's perfect. Perhaps I'll put on a swimsuit and go do some laps in a little while.

Truthfully, I probably won't go for a swim. I just wanted to add that for those of you who are living in cooler temperatures and can't go out and swim laps. I know it's wrong to make people envious, but sometimes it's just too fun!

Anyways, I flew in last night and met up with my mom at the airport. We came to Miami to surprise my aunt, and I think we did a pretty good job. In truth, I think she was most surprised by the fact that we'll be joining her in running a 5K tomorrow. It'll be a sad sight to see, but we will be running!

So, in honor of our run, I think 2 Timothy 4:7-8 is appropriate to keep in mind,

"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing."

Really, I'm not looking for a crown at the end of this race. I got a t-shirt, and I'm pretty content with that. I just hope my mom isn't hauled off in an ambulance. Pray for us! :)

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Book Recommendation!

Many years ago (double digit years ago), I got a copy of a devotional book called Streams in the Desert by L.B. Cowman. I did what any responsible teenager would do when given such a book. I read maybe two days of devotionals and then forgot about it.

Oh, those were the days! But, anyways, I actually bought another copy of it about a month ago, and it is fantastic. Seriously, it's probably my favorite thing ever, besides my nightly bubble bath. But, I'm willing to say this book is even better than the bubble bath, and that's saying a whole lot!

You see, Streams in the Desert (now available in more updated language) is a collection of really great, uplifting devotionals which just give you such peace. And, they take about five minutes to read. That's it. Five minutes.

Who doesn't have five minutes to spare? I promise, you will not regret reading this book. It will make you feel good. It will remind you that God cares about you. It will make you lose five pounds.

Okay, it really doesn't help with weight loss. But those five minutes spent reading are five minutes when you won't be eating...and that's got to be worth something, right? Plus, I promise it will do the other stuff I said it will!

So, go get a copy, and start feeling peaceful!

Monday, October 15, 2007

Plenty to go Around

Yesterday, I made a big pot of beans and a pan of cornbread. It was the first time in my life I'd made this meal, and, being a Texan, the fact that I'd gone 29 years without making a big pot of beans and a pan of cornbread was nothing short of inexcusable. Because I'd grown up with that meal, I knew there was nothing more comforting than sitting down to a bowl of beans and a piece of buttered cornbread.

So, if I knew how comforting it was, why on earth did it take me 29 years to make it? Well, part of it is that I don't really cook. And, a big part of my not cooking is that it's no fun to cook for one person. It's a lot of work, and, at the end of all that work, there's nobody to look at you and tell you how tasty it is. I've got plenty of other good reasons not to cook. I'd always thought I'd cook when I had people to cook for. I'd cook when I had a nicer kitchen. I'd cook when I had better pots and pans. I'd cook when I had more time.

In short, I was waiting until the conditions were right. But, think about this. I was waiting until all the conditions were right before I allowed myself to do something I really wanted to do, before I allowed myself to have the life I wanted.

And, the thing is, it wasn't just cooking. I was waiting until conditions were right before I became a regular church attendee, waiting to become a volunteer, waiting on having people over for dinner. These were all things I thought might be good and even fun to do, but I kept waiting on them as if they had to be done at a certain time. Unfortunately, I was also waiting on them because they didn't seem important enough to start doing right now, as if my life right now wasn't important enough to really live. It just makes me wonder how much of our lives are spent waiting, and I wonder how many things we miss out on because of that.

A few months ago, I went to New York for a conference. As an added bonus, I got to catch up with some friends from grad school. In between discussion of rock bands from the 1980's, my friend Brad always has smart things to say. He's a rhetorician, so that's sort of his job.

Anyways, he was talking about the John Mayer song, "Waiting on the World to Change." I'm not a huge fan of John Mayer, but Brad wasn't concerned about the song's musical merit. Rather, he was concerned about its message. You see, the basic message of the song is that the world is really messed up by all sorts of problems and things we can't control. The solution? We're waiting on the world to change.

I hadn't really listened to the song closely, just enough to know that it's actually pretty catchy. But, the more I thought about it, the more I thought Brad had reason to worry about the popularity of that song. You see, the problem is that change doesn't happen if all we do is sit back, accept the circumstances, and wait for change to come. This is true of problems in the world and problems in our lives. If we want change to happen, we have to make it happen, and when we stop waiting for change and start making changes, it's surprising the things that can happen, the things we can learn.

I've seen this happen in my own life. For years, I thought I wasn't a Bible Study person. In truth, I wasn't even much of a church person. I really only liked churches with a strict liturgy because they kept religion nice and distant; I didn't have to worry about all that "relationship" stuff I'd heard people talking about. I was too smart to actually need God to be a part of my life. It was enough that I occasionally showed up at church to take part in some service that made me feel good but didn't challenge me to wonder if I had any right to feel as good as I did.

But, eventually, I got over my ego and went to Bible Study. I say "ego" because it was really nothing but stubborness, selfishness, and pride. I went there because I finally knew I needed God, needed Him so much that I thought I might lose everything, including my mind, if I didn't start looking for Him. So, I went to the Baptist church for Bible Study.

Sure, it was a blow to my pride to show up at a Baptist church in need. I felt like all those poor souls I'd listened to giving their testimonies over all those years I'd spent in Baptist churches. And, it doesn't make you feel very proud to know that, because of your need, you're in the company of people who've lived through all manner of horror in their lives. It's hard to feel proud when you're in need, but I was. But, the thing is, in going to Bible Study, I've learned a lot while in the company of some of the sweetest ladies you'll ever meet.

I've learned that religion isn't as important as relationship. It's something I have to remind myself of all the time, but it's starting to make sense. And, when I started to seek a relationship with God, the focus of my attention changed. I lost focus on all the things my life lacked, and I started to see how much I'd been given. Instead of focusing on how God could help me, I started wondering how He could use me to help others. I began to understand the truth of Luke 12:48,

"For unto whom much is given: of him shall be much required."

All that I have, all those things of which I've been so proud, are gifts that should be used in a way that will honor the Giver. Wouldn't it honor the Giver more if I stopped seeing those gifts as things that should bring glory only to me? Wouldn't it honor the Giver more if I quit waiting for the right circumstances to use my gifts?

When you're given a gift, you don't wait to use it. You want to use it right away. And, the gratitude you have for the gift shows the Giver that you're happy with what you have, not that you're concentrating on what you don't have. At some point, we all must choose to use our gifts, despite the circumstances we're in. We must create the change we wish to see in our world and in our lives. We have to do those things, both simple and difficult, as if the doing of all things will give honor and glory to the One who has given us so much.

We shouldn't worry that our gifts are not enough, that our lives are not enough as they are. Just like my big pot of beans, there is plenty to go around, and there are sure to be leftovers because God never stops giving. Living our lives as fully and gloriously as we can, even in the hard times, can be that thing which gives our lives meaning and hopefully the comfort that we all crave. It's a wonder that we wait to do this.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Poetry

When I was young, I wrote poetry. This isn't something I talk about very much, if at all. It's one of those things that I have every right to be embarrassed about, truth be told. But, for better or for worse, I and my black-and-white-speckled notebook and my purple pen spent plenty of quality time together from about 1992 to 1996.

But, somewhere about 1997, I decided to deposit my poetry in a trashcan, to be taken away by the local garbage collectors. That's a true story. I just took it and threw it all in the trash. Pretty dramatic, right?

I guess I'd decided that writing poetry wasn't worth my time. Perhaps, at eighteen, I was too old. Perhaps I was too serious. Perhaps I just had nothing to write about. Whatever the case, my poetry career came to a halt, and I haven't much thought about it since then. I definitely haven't talked about it since, well, I don't remember when.

Honestly, I haven't much cared for poetry for years. There's something about poetry that's a little too emotive, a little too mushy, or a little too something. I preferred looking at poetry as an English major. Then I could take a poem and dissect it, take a scalpel to it, as to a "patient etherized upon a table."

I mean, words are serious business, and you don't go getting all mushy over something that's serious business. But, maybe you do. Maybe you sometimes have to. Maybe there are times when being serious isn't the end of it all. Maybe we need poetry in ways we can't imagine because poetry frees us from the way we normally think of language and of life.

I was thinking about poetry a few weeks ago when I was out running. Actually, I was thinking about writing, about all the things I'd like to write and a little about things I used to write. So naturally, I started thinking about poetry.

At the time of my run, I was in the middle of reading Searching for God Knows What. In the book, Donald Miller discusses that parts of the Bible are written as poetry. He reflects,

"I can't tell you how beautiful I thought this was; I had always suspected language was quite limited in its ability to communicate the intricate mysteries of truth" (55).

The word "limited" just stood out to me. I thought of how limited the world felt when I stopped writing poetry, how there was less beauty in it, how it changed the way I saw the world and felt about it, how nothing had a ring of poetry about it. Because, through poetry, I tried to see more beauty in the world, and, when you go looking for beauty, your thoughts often turn to the One who created such beauty.

So, I tried to open my eyes to it, to all of the beauty around me as I ran down the street. This was difficult to do, given the fact that it was overcast. But, do you know what happened? It started raining on me, a sort of torrential downpour. Now, like I said, I'm a very serious person who doesn't like to get rained on. But, I'd never been happier for such a thing to happen. I stopped running and just walked through it.

I looked like a complete idiot. And perhaps a little like a drowned rat. The thing is, I didn't care one bit. Right there, standing on the side of the road and drenched in rain, I'd found some poetry again. And, it wasn't a sonnet or anything that contrived. It existed in the simplicity of all that was around me, as sure as the God who inspired the poetry in His Word. And, suddenly, the world felt a little less limited, a little more like something only the mysteries of poetry can explain.

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Fasting

Sometimes we overlook the obvious. For example, the rhetoric of religion often centers on this idea that we look for God. This makes God seem so far away, as if we must exert enormous energy to find Him. In truth, He's right there, waiting for us, even when we fail to look.

A while ago, I decided to fast on Thursdays. I felt like it would be a way to learn dependence on God because it often feels that when we're satisfied, either with a full stomach or with the status of our lives, we feel less inclined to look to God. However, at those times when everything seems to be going wrong, we understand the need for God.

So, I gave up food on Thursdays. What I learned was this. God meets us where we are and teaches us what we need to learn when we are able to understand it.

When I started the fast, I was thinking of how we sometimes find ways of calming ourselves, sometimes through food, when we should really seek calm by turning to God. But, as I fasted, I saw the the food problem was, for me, pretty insignificant when I compared it to the many other things I put before a relationship with God. But, it wasn't until I took away food and turned to God that I could see the other areas of my life that God wanted me to change.

In his book, Basic Christianity, John Stott writes,

"The Christian knows that the nearer he approaches God, the more he becomes aware of his own sin. In this saint somewhat resembles the scientist. The more the scientist discovers, the more he appreciates the mysteries which await his discovery. So the more the Christian grows in Christ-likeness, the more he perceives the vastness of the distance which separates him from Christ" (38).

As I prayed and fasted, I slowly began to see how, over the course of many years, I had worked on constructing a pretty strong wall to keep God (and sometimes other people) away from me. And, the thing is, I began to see things I didn't really like. Suddenly, it became obvious to me that I had a lot of flaws. I was vain, materialistic, selfish, and at least half a dozen other bad things.

I looked around my home at all the things I surrounded myself with. I had tons of magazines that told me I needed to have gobs of expensive possessions, clothes I never wore, more makeup than I could ever possibly use. Those are things that obviously have no lasting value and things that serve no purpose other than to maintain a negative system of values.

But, they're not the only things that do that. I started looking through boxes of old papers--things I wrote as an undergrad and as a grad student in English. Stacks of papers with glowing comments on them, papers I'd been so proud of. But, the thing is, as I looked back over these papers, it was as if they meant nothing to me. It was nice to know my work had been appreciated, but all I could see as I looked at those old papers was how proud those comments had made me, how they'd made me feel like I was complete, even at times when I was anything but.

So, where was the nice warm fuzzy feeling that Christianity was supposed to give me? When I confronted how completely distant I was from being like Christ, how this troubled my ability to relate to people as I should and to be a good Christian, I certainly felt anything but calm.

One night, after thinking about how completely askew my focus had been for so long, I went to bed and had a horrible night's sleep. I woke up the next morning, and all I could think was, "How on earth am I going to fix this? This is a real problem. I'm all these things--selfish, proud, arrogant--and I hate all of it. How can I be a different person?"

And, then it came to me. The most obvious answer. You just do. That's the calm that comes from being a Christian. The answer makes so much sense and is so clear. It's this:

"Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold all things are become new" (2 Corinthians 5:17).

So, the answer to how to change is simply that you change. Through Christ, you allow those parts--the selfishness and all of it--to die away. This ability to let the old self die away is part of the promise and hope of Christianity. It's so obvious that we must be careful not to overlook it.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Why I Hate Yoga

A few years ago, I decided to take a yoga class. I bought a cute yoga mat and determined to stretch my way to optimal health and well-being.

Our classes were held at the Rec Center and taught by a woman who never wore makeup and looked as if she lived off granola. She had a voice like an NPR announcer, quiet and monotone, not given to any bursts of excessive enthusiasm. I worked my way through a number of poses and kind of liked it.

Except that I hated it. That's right. I absolutely hated yoga. I tried it again a couple of years later. New gym, new instructor, new yoga pants. Same old hatred of yoga.

You see, the stretching was good. It sometimes hurt, but, overall, it felt pretty good to really push myself to do more. But the thing is, there's more to yoga than just stretching. There's also this whole element of being calm.

I couldn't stand the calm. In fact, yoga, rather than filling me with a sense of peace, made me want to go pick a fist-fight. And, I may be many things, but violent just isn't one of them. For some reason, all that calm--the gentle breathing, the soothing music, the NPR announcer/yoga teacher--just put me on edge.

I don't do calm very well. For some reason, sloth and laziness come fairly easily to me, but those are usually aided by copious amounts of bad television and unhealthy snacks. But, the calm of a yoga class was a kind of calm that forced concentration. And, that sort of concentration can be unsettling.

I was thinking of this as I reflected on just how difficult it can be to pray. I mean, at times prayer just comes naturally, like during a natural disaster or before a test or when you're faced with a personal crisis. Prayer makes sense then. And, when I am saying my prayers at night, while I'm doing the talking, well, prayer seems to make sense then as well. It's comfortable so long as I'm actively engaging in prayer, while I'm making sure I haven't forgotten to pray for anyone, or trying to think of any areas of my life that need attention. It's pretty comfortable so long as I'm doing something.

But, when you think about it, that's not all there is to prayer, because prayer is part of a relationship. There can't be just this one-sided way of communicating; that's not how we truly come to know and understand God.

But, that's the hard part. I think of Psalm 46:10,

"Be still, and know that I am God."

The stillness and the knowing are connected, but how can we make ourselves be still? Don't we organize our lives, even our ways of worship, in ways that are anything but still? We seem to always need to be doing something, taking time away from this important business of stillness, and, in turn, we lose our chance to really know that He is God.

I have to admit, I'm still wary of trying another yoga class. I'd hate to have any of you turn on the news and find out I'd been arrested for assault. But, I am going to try to be still, because I have to think that stillness leads to greater knowledge. And, I can't think of much that would be more calming than the peace that comes from knowing God.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Book Review: Searching for God Knows What

Well, I feel that by now I've quoted enough from Donald Miller's Searching for God Knows What, but it's good enough that it deserves a review, now that I'm finished reading it. What Miller does in this book is similar to what he did in Blue Like Jazz, which is to argue for a more relational understanding of Christianity or Christian Spirituality. To be fair, the two books are very different, but their similarity lies in Miller's articulation of an idea that Christianity must be understood as a relationship.

Throughout Searching for God Knows What, Miller points out the relational language of the Gospels and even of the Old Testament. And, he argues quite strongly that Christianity can't be seen merely as a moral code.

I'll be honest. That last part is tough. We're all really good moralists, aren't we? I mean, even if we're not always so good at following the moral code, we're usually good at knowing what it is and how to argue for it. And, sometimes, we're really good at understanding that we follow it better than other people.

Wouldn't it be nice if that were the goal? To be better than other people. I'm tons better than plenty of other people, and, if you asked me, I could tell you exactly why I'm so much better--better at following the rules, better at church attendance, better at reading my Bible, better at understanding what I read, better at praying every day, better at spending time each day reading about God and trying to understand Him more deeply. I mean, I think I just proved my point. I'm tons better than a lot of people.

But, the truth is that I'm not. I have a lot of flaws. I'm proud and selfish and self-righteous. And, sometimes I find it hard to see the good in people. There are plenty of people who are more loving to others than what I've been in my life. I guess I could throw in the fact that I'm materialistic, just for good measure. Okay, as long as I'm going all confessional here, sometimes I fall asleep during my nighttime prayers, and, on Friday, I forgot to read my devotional. Heck, it wasn't until a few months ago that I even did devotionals; I've never given anything up for Lent; I said the same prayer over and over for years, every single night; until recently, my church attendance over the last few years was incredibly spotty. And, those moral codes that I follow could easily be argued for without even mentioning God.

So, what's the point?

I think that's where Miller's book is helpful. Miller argues that, in keeping with the Biblical understanding of human nature, we are essentially a broken people. He begins his explanation of this brokenness with the story of the Fall. Miller's interpretation of the Fall is one that makes so much sense, but he doesn't give it to us as we're used to hearing it. Though he remains true to the concept that the Fall of Man introduced sin into the world, he talks about how the Fall also led to a rupture in the relationship between man and God. In this way, his interpretation of the Fall is quite relational. Miller illustrates not an angry God and a sinful man, but the sadness that must have been felt by man upon betraying his relationship to God. Miller writes,

"And then it hit me how awful it must have felt for Adam and Eve to have been deceived by Satan, to have been tricked into breaking their relationship with God. You and I almost have it easier. We were born this way. [...] I wonder at how terrible it must have felt, at the fear of no longer feeling God, at the ache of emptiness and the sudden and horrifying awareness of self. God have mercy" (72-73).

Miller explains that we became aware of our separation from God, and in this separation, we needed a way in which to define ourselves. We seek out many different ways of doing just that. Miller gives the example of the social hierarchy among young people in schools, how young people will do almost anything to keep from becoming marked as the cultural "other" in their schools. But, sadly, there always has to be some "other" who we define our worth against. Someone has to be the least popular. Someone has to be the outcast.

And, Miller goes on to explain how we sometimes continue in positioning people as outcasts by making morality the main focus of Christianity. I must explain here that Miller is not speaking against the moral codes given to us in the Bible; he upholds that morality. However, what he is doing is trying to make us see that what makes Christianity so special, what sets it apart, is that it allows us to have a relationship with Jesus.

The brokenness that Miller discusses is something that makes us feel that there is something missing. And, because there is something missing, we try to fill that emptiness. Sure, some people fill that emptiness with drugs or alcohol or therapy or, less destructively, with having tons of hobbies and interests. But, some of us fill that emptiness with feeling superior to those who are not as moral as we are. Miller isn't saying that we need to change the moral code; that's not the message at all.

Rather, what he is saying is that we must understand that we've all been shaped by our brokenness. Like I said earlier, it is easy for me to see how moral I am, how hard I work to understand God more. But, what is so humbling, is that I have to remember that it isn't by my own strength that I am able to do those things; it is because of the strength given by God.

Earlier, I also listed all the things that I struggle with, all the ways in which I'm just not such a great person. And, to be honest, it wasn't until recently--as I've come to look to God, His Word, His will for my life--that I would have even considered that those were things that I should struggle with. In fact, I thought I was just fine. But, the truth is, I wasn't. Not even close.

But, that's what we must remember. We must remember that often, it is not until we start working toward holiness that we really begin to see those areas of our lives that aren't so good. It is when we stop looking into the mirror or to other people for an explanation of how to live a good life and start looking to the example of Christ that we really learn what it is to live the lives we were meant to live. And, knowing that were it not for our seeking to be more like Christ that we would not fully understand life, it must change how we treat other people.

We should remember the verse, "For there is no difference, all have sinned, and lack the praise that is of valour before God" (Romans 3:23). It is only through grace that we have come to know of the relationship to God through Christ. Remember the story of the woman caught in adultery? Jesus asked he who was without sin to cast the first stone, but none were without sin. He also told the woman to go and sin no more. The woman was saved from death by Jesus' grace, and, in this salvation, she was to sin no more.

Surely we can show grace to others. And, surely we must understand that our greatest calling is to know Christ and to be more like Him.

Saturday, October 06, 2007

Entering the Uncharted Territory of the Kitchen

It's confession time. I am a terrible cook. That is, I can make side dishes, appetizers, and...side dishes and appetizers. If there's a piece of meat to be cooked, I will ruin it. It will be a tasteless mess. I make one main dish. It's pasta with spinach pesto. Unfortunately, you can't make pasta with spinach pesto every night, unless you're looking to gain 50 pounds real quick!

On the flip side, I'm a pretty passable baker, but I can't do any fancy stuff. And, again, unless I'm on a gain weight diet, rather than a lose weight diet, I can't live on baked goods alone. Even though I wish I could. Can you imagine a diet that consisted of side dishes, appetizers, and baked goods? Oh my! That would be fabulous. I'd start with little quiches and my gorgonzola mashed potatoes; then I'd end with a big chunk of cheesecake. Unfortunately, such a diet would lead to me looking like a big chunk of cheesecake, and, much as I love cheesecake (especially my pumpkin cheesecake), it's just never been my goal to look like cheesecake.

That said, I have a goal to start cooking more. In part, it's because not cooking is really expensive. It's also a real waste of money, and I feel like I should be a better steward of money. So, cooking at home seems a good way to do that and a good way to learn a new and much needed skill. Also, I've always loved the part of Proverbs 31 that talks about the wife of noble character, but I've always had the convenient loophole of not being a wife. However, I think the verses are good for any woman because it talks about being a woman of good character and a woman who takes care of business.

Apparently, she also cooks. And, in that regard, I've been letting down my little family of Greta and, um, me. So, I've determined to turn over a new leaf and start cooking. I'll possibly even start cooking things that taste good! So, if anyone has any recipes they'd like to share, I will happily take them. In return, I will give you the recipe for my fantastic oatmeal cookies. I've taken them to Bible Study twice, and the ladies love them!

Happy Baking!

The Yummiest Oatmeal Cookies EVER!!!

Ingredients:

2 Sticks Butter, softened
1 Cup Brown Sugar
1/2 Cup Granulated Sugar
1 Egg
2-3 Egg Yolks (Definitely 2, but add an extra if the batter seems too dry)
1 TABLESPOON Vanilla
1 & 1/2 Cups Flour
1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
3 Cups Old-Fashioned Oats (Uncooked, please!)
1 Cup Raisins OR Chocolate Chips (I like raisins, but chocolate chips are tasty too!)
1 Cup Toasted Walnuts OR Pecans (Just throw them in the oven while it's heating. They should take about 10 minutes to toast, but keep an eye on them. Those things can burn fast!)

Directions:

Make cookies. Tuh! Oh, sorry. I'll be more specific!

1. Cream the butter. A spoon or a mixer will work, depending on how soft the butter is.
2. Add in the sugars and the vanilla. And then, cream some more! You're getting good at this now!
3. Add the egg and the egg yolks! Stir it up!
4. Add the flour, baking soda, and salt. Yum! Oh, wait, those aren't very tasty on their own.
5. Thrown in the fun stuff! Oatmeal, raisins, the nuts (which are hopefully tastefully toasted rather than nastilly burnt.). If you like more of any of the ingredients, like more raisins or more nuts, go for it! But, make sure to not put too much stuff in there, or the cookies will be nasty.

Now, put giant globs of cookie dough on the cookie sheet, and bake those for around 10 minutes at 350 degrees.

Then, take them out and eat them immediately. Okay, maybe not. Restrain yourself or else you will burn a hole through your tongue. And, after that, you'll never be able to see an oatmeal cookie without thinking of the trauma sustained while eating one. That's no fun! So, wait until they cool a little, and then enjoy them with a glass of milk. Make it organic milk; it's a lot better for you! ;)

Friday, October 05, 2007

Leprosy and Other Bad Things

Sometimes there's something nostalgic about reading the Bible. I guess it reminds me of being younger and in Sunday School, but reading the stories again is also a little like being introduced to old friends. You get reacquainted with Mary and Martha, Lazarus (what a story there), and the twelve disciples. In the reading of these stories, there's definitely something that jogs my memory and makes me think about my life as a younger person, reading or hearing those stories for the first time.

But, there's also a way that I understand things differently now than I would have when I was younger. The stories of the miracles are still amazing, but there's a way in which they speak to something deeper about understanding a relationship with God.

For some reason, I really like the story of the man who was healed of leprosy. I'm not sure why. It's in the middle of a lot of the great red-lettered parts of the Bible, so that's one reason I like it. But, I also like it because the man is suffering from something that seems so terrible, yet he is healed. I guess I like that because I think of the many problems we all face and how insurmountable they seem, how it often seems like there will be no end to the things that trouble us.

And, sometimes, I wonder if we have both the faith and the humility to turn to God to ask for help with those things that trouble us. It seems that, so often, we think that there can be no end to our problems or that we must look for answers and solutions in every place without thinking to look to God. And, sometimes, we try to solve all problems on our own, even when we face troubles that we cannot possibly handle.

So, I think we can learn a lot from the man with leprosy. Just consider how he asks for help. He says to Jesus, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." How much faith did it take to assert that Jesus could heal him of his incurable disease? And how much humility did it take to ask? Can we have that kind of faith, that kind of humility?

I'm not at all suggesting that we take a vacation from working on those areas of our lives that need work. Remember that the Israelites were given as much manna as they needed, but they couldn't just sit in their tents waiting to be served. They had to go out and collect their food. God expects us to put forth effort, even in the midst of our troubles. After all, the man with leprosy wasn't sitting around waiting to be healed; he went and found the Healer.

I think that part of having a relationship with God is knowing that we must turn to Him for help, that we can't just persist in trying to solve all problems on our own. Sometimes, the problems are just too big. Sometimes, the problems are bigger than we are. Fortunately, God is bigger than our problems, and He will help, if we only have the faith and humility to ask.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

On My Run Tonight

I went for a run tonight. For the record, whenever I say "run," you should probably insert the word "jog," if you're particular about accuracy. In truth, what I do is more akin to a slow jog, but it still feels great.

There's just something about pushing yourself to run a little further, to work a little harder. It feels good. Tonight I ran a little under three miles. It's nothing spectacular, but it makes me feel good to know that I can do that; it makes me feel good to know that I could do even more than that if I worked really hard at it.

And, I especially like running because it gives you a chance to see things a little more slowly than you do in a car, to notice things you might otherwise miss. Like tonight, I was jogging on a busy street in town, and I got to really see the houses that I drive past everyday. I saw the custard place, and perhaps I thought about how tasty custard is and how easy it would be to run through the drive-through.

But then I spotted something that took me by surprise. Right there, on a busy street in front of someone's house, was a pumpkin patch. That's right. As I ran by, I spotted a little pumpkin growing next to the sidewalk and then a little pumpkin next to the house. Imagine that.

This probably sounds goofy, but I was pretty amazed at the little pumpkin patch. And, I couldn't help but think how hopeful it is to spot a little pumpkin patch where you'd least expect it.

But isn't that how things so often happen? Things grow where we least expect them to. Perhaps we should keep that in mind and remember to never lose hope that we might find growth in unexpected places.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Mary and Martha

I am completely lazy. Given enough time alone, I would probably not leave the house or brush my teeth or bathe or do much besides watch TV. And it wouldn't be educational TV. It'd be the really bad stuff, the kind of stuff where you find out which actress is getting divorced or which model was recently arrested. You know, quality programming.

I have to confess that I've gotten a lot better about this laziness, and, lately, I don't have the least interest in watching celebrity news. I'm also happy to report that I make at least a passing attempt at hygeine--both dental and body. But, once you've been a lazy person, you always sort of see yourself as a lazy person, and you always know that you have the capacity for extreme sloth. And, the thing is, I'd been kind of lazy even as a kid. So, in Sunday School when we learned the Bible story of Mary and Martha, I always associated more with Mary.

In case you don't remember the story, Mary and Martha were two sisters who had Jesus over to their house. Martha was in a tizzy, making sure everything was spotless and perfect, while Mary sat around listening to Jesus talk. Well, Martha got her panties in a bunch about that, and she asked Jesus to tell Mary to help with the preparations. But, Jesus didn't do that. Instead, He told Martha that she should be more like her sister and that she should be spending her time listening to Him. Hearing that story, I knew right then that I liked both Jesus and Mary. I also knew that Martha was absolutely no fun and that she and I would not be friends.

Personally, I think neat freaks all identify with Martha, and slobs like me (the people with unidentifiable stuff in their refrigerators) identify with Mary. But, the thing is, I'm not sure the difference between Mary-people and Martha-people is so easy to identify as we might think.

You see, I don't spend all my time making my house look perfect, but there are plenty of things that I do that take away from time spent just getting to know God. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what those things are. For instance, I read tons of books. I'm sort of like a book addict, and, lately, most of the books have been works that talk about God, specifically about knowing God. The truth is, I've enjoyed these books very much, and they've helped me to learn a lot. They've all helped me to come to some understandings about God and faith and spirituality that I wouldn't have come to had it not been for reading them.

However, sometimes I get really wrapped up in reading, so much so that, even though I'm reading a book about getting to know God, I'm not actually getting to know God. Strange, right? But, the problem is, I can't get to know God or anyone else, for that matter, just by reading about Him, because knowing God doesn't mean just knowing about Him or knowing how another person has gotten to know Him. Knowing God means taking the time to really get to know Him, to pray to Him, to seek His answers to our questions.

Obviously, there's nothing wrong with reading books about God, but we need to remember not to lose God among the pages of the book, not to let our reading of the book serve as a replacement for getting to know God. That said, we can't forego all activities, because we still need to connect with others and to expand our understanding of God and His will for our lives by looking to others for guidance. We still need to make cookies for Bible Study, brush up on our apologetics, serve on church committees. And we really, really must keep our houses clean. Remember, God is a God of order. So, you're not going to find Him while you're living in a dump.

Monday, October 01, 2007

Brokenness and Healing

Being an English major was a wonderful thing. I mean, telling people you're an English major was never fun because they would inevitably scrunch up their noses or ask if you were planning on teaching high school. But, actually being an English major was great.

You see, while other people had their noses stuck in boring books about business or chemistry, I was poring over Shakespeare, Chaucer, Jane Austen, Thackeray. In short, I got to read books that people actually want to read. But, being an English major wasn't just about reading literature; it was also about trying to understand literature, trying to get at why an author made a certain choice or trying to search for hidden meanings.

One of the exercises for doing that was the literary close reading. Close reading is perhaps the most left-brained approach to literature, so it might come as some surprise that I absolutely loved it. In doing a close reading, you look to every little writing choice an author has made. You ask things like: Why is that comma there? Why has she used the word "love" ten times? Why is the word "truth" capitalized?

Exciting stuff, right?

Well, perhaps it's not the most intriguing or romantic way of looking at literature, but you can learn a lot by the choices an author makes. You can try to figure out what is most important to the author, how the author understands his subject, what the author wants you to get. This hit me the other day as I was reading through Psalms. I came to a verse that I really like. It says,

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." (Psalm 147:3).

What stood out to me was the similarity of this verse to two verses that I like in Job. Job 5:17-18 says,

"Blessed is the man whom God corrects; so do not despise the discipline of the Almighty. For he wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal."

What stands out here is that there is a theme of brokenness. However, that theme of brokenness does not stand on it's own; rather, it is joined with the theme of healing, of binding up. What's striking is that this really is the whole Bible story, the story of a broken people who have the opportunity to turn to God, repent, and be healed.

It's not just these two verses. We see this theme of a God who will bind up our wounds running throughout the Bible, starting with the Fall and, of course, in the coming of Christ and the crucifixion. If we look all throughout the Old and New Testaments, we see the theme.

We even see it in the short but terrifying book of Zephaniah. The other day, I was talking to my uncle, and he pointed out a verse from Zephaniah which speaks to this very point. In Zephaniah, amid a book in which God was pouring out well-deserved punishment on His people, we get Zephaniah 3:17 which says,

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing."

Isn't that an amazing picture, to think of God delighting in us, to think of God singing over us as we might sing over a child who is crying? But, again, this is the theme that runs throughout the Bible. We don't have to undertake a close reading to find these themes. We learn, without looking too closely, that despite our sins, despite our faults, God is there, waiting for us to let Him bind our wounds, even those wounds we've brought on ourselves.

Because the themes of brokenness and healing run throughout the Bible, it is not surprising to learn that we are broken, nor is it surprising to learn that God will heal our brokenness. What is surprising is that we don't turn away from those things which hurt us and toward a God who heals. What is surprising is that we don't let ourselves be healed, that we don't listen for His singing, that we don't let our broken hearts and selves be bound.