Jesus, the Family Heirloom

When I was about five or so, my mom made me a cloth doll. She didn't have jointed legs, an hourglass figure, or seductive makeup like some of the Barbies I later owned. She was actually quite simple. She had tan cloth skin, black yarn hair twisted into two braids, tiny sewn eyes, and a small pink mouth. Her body wasn't very properly proportioned either. She had a round belly and her arms were about as large as her thighs (and they were quite large; think sausages). She was soft, huggable, and wholesome, and I had a ball sewing clothes for her out of hideous fabrics my mom let me have. When it came time to name her, I dubbed her with the eloquent title: Adra (any resemblance to religious humanitarian organizations is entirely coincidental).

I liked Adra and I still do. She's been around now for...15 or 16 years, longer than most of our family pets. She's survived three or four moves all over the United States too. But I've slowly grown up, my hands stretching, grasping, letting go of childhood toys and games and reaching out for education and jobs. At 21, I can't spend my time making miniature aprons and dresses for dolls with fat arms. So I've left Adra boxed up in a closet or shed somewhere at my mom's house in Colorado. She's most likely folded up like origami next to my old story books or scrunched up with the wooden music box my uncle gave me, the one with the hummingbird engraved on it. I've left her to collect dust in a cardboard coffin. I don't keep her near me when I sleep or prop her up on my pillow during the day either. Those days are gone.

But don't get me wrong. There's no way I could ever get rid of her. She's stuffed with much more than fluffy wool. She's full of sentimental value and the rich memory of my mother making a special gift just for me.

I know of another Parent who gave a very personal gift to His kids. Many of us accepted this treasure when we were little. God entrusted us with a simple, raw faith in the gift of Jesus. But as we've slowly grown up, life started getting more complicated and it was harder to take Jesus everywhere. He might've survived a few moves, but slowly, little by little, He was crowded out of our lives as we reached out for more "grown-up" things. For many young people, Jesus has been left in the dust as they blasted their way into adulthood. He now sits in a closet, collecting dust somewhere.

But don't be confused. He's is well liked for sure. We usually pull Him out once in a while during church, for memory's sake. We couldn't bear to get rid of Him entirely because He's too full of sentimental value and rich childhood memories. But we can't stand to let Him live fully in our lives either.

For most of my peers who grew up in Christian homes, Jesus is liked well enough to be spared a Goodwill fate, but not well enough to be brought out of the packing box and made real and personal in our everyday lives. We can't sell Him at the yard sale just yet because He's a part of our history. Sabbath school lessons, potlucks, and pathfinders weakly string our past to our present, but Jesus isn't in control of the reins that guide us in the moment, in the here and now. When we do crack open a Bible, all we see are black and white sterile words on a page, tellings stories that aren't near as flashy or fascinating as Disney.

We've "become wealthy, and have need of nothing" (Revelation 3:17 NKJV).

But the problem is keeping Jesus packed in the shed is really like having no Jesus at all. Either He is the Life "which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled," or He is nothing at all (1 John 1:1 NKJV). We have to decide what He will be to us. Alive or dead. Everything or nothing. We're all in or all out. Either we're burning hot, consumed by His love or we'll be vomited out of His mouth (see Revelation 3:16). You can't have a sentimental relationship with Christ based on the whims of nostalgia any more than you can have a sporadic, sentimental, pull-out-of-the-box-when-I-feel-like-it spouse. It's that simple.

It's time we quit treating Jesus like a family heirloom.

"Behold, I stand at the door and knock..." (Revelation 3:20 NKJV).

Life is...

Life is not a formula where you plug in the factors and get exactly what you want.

Life isn't a game where you can pass go and collect two-hundred dollars.

Life isn't a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after.

Life isn't a movie you can replay over and over. It can only be lived once.

Life is not a bread and breakfast where you get Captain Crunch served on a silver platter.

Life isn't a car-camping trip with paved walk ways and wi-fi access.

Life is a rugged endeavor where you make incredible friends and meet annoying trolls that later transform into incredible friends.

Life is an experiment where you put baking soda and vinegar together and find that it doesn't go over very well.

Life is a wild beast and a sometimes you have to grab the whip and tame the lion.

Life is a roller coaster with lots of ups and downs and lots of screaming.

Life is a play you perform, but most of the time you don't understand your role or the lines until afterwards.

Life is a fight to treasure the diamonds you've been given.

Life is realizing that the Son of Man doesn't have a hole like a fox or a nest like a bird and neither do I have a place in this world.

A Fancy List of Blogs I Like

I’m thankful that people enjoyed reading my last post. But now I have a problem: I have nothing intelligent or profound left to say. Seriously, it was all funneled into that 1,700ish word post. I thought about writing a series of posts covering all the other emotional problems I have, but decided against it.

I thought about telling you all about the time my older sister gave her hamster a bath in the humidifier and then blow-dried it to a parched perfection (needless to mention, he passed away in the process). I guess that would make people laugh and that can be good, and maybe someday I’ll write out a whole swath of humorous family anecdotes, but not today.

I wish I had something grand and clever and to say. I wish I had great gobs of intelligence and humorous sarcasm from which I could write scathing rebukes on controversial issues to our morally bankrupt, do-what-you-feel-like society. I wish I could stir people up and resurrect a “stand for the truth!” spirit and let it burn like a bon fire, like my latest and greatest blogging hero, Matt Walsh of the www.themattwalshblog.com. (Really, he is, like, my top favorite blog right now. I highly recommend you check out his stuff. Read, like, everything.)

On the other end of things, I’m not super amazing when it comes to sewing or DIY home décor projects so I can’t show you how to create the cutest handmade clutches in all creation (but if you do want to see them, a really adorable baby boy, read book reviews, or just hear about a wonderful Christian woman’s life and find out why she’s gluten free, check out one of my other favorite blogs: www.elmstreetlife.com).

Sometimes I get frustrated because I like words a lot and at random moments in the day I’ll think of an artistic way to string a few together. But then I usually don’t have a larger frame to place them in for display or I’m not really in a place/time where I can flesh out my thoughts and do them justice. And by the time I actually do have a space for thinking, often the fancy has passed and I’m stuck again.

I’m also not a mom who does cool stuff like mission trips and talks about her kids and yummy recipes like this awesome lady at www.peteandbuzz.com (I haven’t kept up with her blog for a while, but it is still a pretty good one).

I’m also not an uber spiritual, inspirational, super author like this incredible woman at www.aholyexperience.com or this one at www.lookforsonshine.wordpress.com (I highly recommend you read both blogs. The profound thoughts and down-to-earth attitudes are so uplifting.)

I’m not like any of these bigwig bloggers. I’m more like a…toupee blogger. And if you’re bored, you now have several new reasons (the above websites) to procrastinate and waste time. J You’re welcome.

So, I guess you can expect my next lightening bolt of inspiration to arrive in about five years and a half years. In between you’ll be entertained with senior photo shoots (or junior or sophomore shoots), occasional intelligent epiphanies, and short, sweet devotionals about things like nature and leaves.

OK, just kidding. Hopefully it won’t be that bad. But it’s nice sometimes to write for the sake of writing, which is kind of what this was. Thanks for reading my rambles.

A Link to More Insight

I noted at the beginning of my last post that I couldn't provide all the answers when it comes to the struggle of feelings. So I wanted to share another post written by one of my favorite teachers from ARISE because I think it gives more insight on the subject. You can find it here. Enjoy!

God is Not My Boyfriend

Note: I know this post doesn’t provide all the answers I’m looking for when it comes to the question of feelings. I still have big questions, but it’s just a thought that popped into my head the other day, so I thought I’d share it with you.

So I’ve had this problem, this throbbing in the back of my mind for what seems like ages. It’s kind of personal and I even tried to write in such a way that you wouldn’t know it was so personal, but I wasn’t making any headway, so I gave up on that idea. But anyway, back to my problem. It’s been around for a while, like that leftover Greek salad in your fridge. Yeah, the one you had for lunch three weeks ago. It hasn’t gone away and it’s beginning to stink. Let me break it down for you.

I’ve pretty much grown up marching under the Eric-and-Leslie-Ludy banner, chanting the mantra: save your heart for the man God has for you! Though I’ve definitely struggled myself, for the most part I’ve tried to be faithful to my future husband. I’ve tried not to dwell upon subjects that would only make me boy-crazy and lovesick because I believed that my teenage years weren’t meant to be spent wallowing in moonlit infatuation and matte-finished daydreams. I’ve tried not to flirt with guys because I believed it wasn’t healthy for me to find fulfillment in the attention of some hormone-crazed teenage boys. I believed that in order to be truly content and be best prepared for a happy marriage, I needed to have a healthy relationship with God first and grow with Him as I approached the brink of adulthood. I denied myself and controlled myself because I believed in this message of saving not just my virtue, but also my heart for my future husband. 

And you know what? I still do believe in this message and I’m thankful for the way I chose to live my teenage years. The angst doesn’t lie in why I did what I did, but rather in how I was told God would help me during the years of self-restraint and loneliness.

In all those books, sermons, retreats, and relationship seminars, they have a common thread. That is the thought that during those years where you don’t have a boyfriend and you feel that little, black monster of loneliness eating away at your happiness, God will somehow magically fill that chasm with His love and any drop of desire to have a significant other will evaporate. God is portrayed as some sort of divine, ultra-boyfriend who fulfills the schmaltzy, romantically infatuated cravings of sixteen-year-old girls. You can go on “dates” with Him every morning. He’ll send you “texts” all the time. Oh, and that cloud you saw in the sky that was shaped like a heart? That was God’s way of saying He’s in love with you, crazy about you. And don’t forget the bouquet of flowers He sends you every spring. He is portrayed as the ultimate emotional filler in our lives. It’s like your heart is a cone and God’s love is in the soft-serve machine and He’s just waiting to fill your heart’s every nook and cranny with creamy, sugary goodness. His love is so rich and perfect; you should never feel a shudder of loneliness again.

Now, this brings me to crux of my problem: I still feel lonely. Despite my faithful Bible reading and prayers, I have yet to experience the above-mentioned divine boyfriend. To be honest, my frustration has been mounting for quite some time because I feel the Lord has stood me up quite a few times. The way I’ve experienced Him hasn’t been the way He was portrayed to me when I read this or that book on relationships or heard that seminar by whoever. How come God hasn’t been holding up His end of the bargain? What gives? Have I not been faithful enough in my thoughts, my actions? Am I not reading enough, not praying enough? Why am I not experiencing the divine romance I was promised? There lies my confusion, frustration, annoyance, disillusionment, disconnect: my three-week-old Greek salad.

Do you smell it?  

I liked a guy my junior year in high school. Man, how special I felt when he’d come and sit by me at a meal or ask what was wrong when I looked sad. If he wasn’t near me in the room, my eyes were darting around every few seconds looking for him and I could find him faster than a sniper finds its target in the scope. Oh, I remember the silly nervousness I felt when the two of us would talk together or when we held hands during the Sabbath Song on Friday nights after vespers. Yeah, all that infatuated, euphoric fluff. It’s a pretty awesome ride. But I have to say I haven’t experienced those same emotions with God, or if I have, they’ve been sparsely doled out. So I have to be missing something. There’s static in the connection. There’s a kink in the hose. There’s a blockage somewhere and I’ve been feeling it for quite a while.

But then the other day I was walking on a gravel road to nowhere special or fantastically important and I had a thought. It was almost like a burning bush sort of moment where the Lord whispered to me for just a split second. It’s funny how God can show you truth at the most ordinary, mundane moments.

So here is my thought: despite everything these relational experts may write, blog, or say, the Bible never says God will be our boyfriend (although some parents would like their thirteen-year-old daughter to think so). However, it does say that He will be our husband.

I know some translations can get pretty creative, but I’ve never heard verses like Isaiah 54:5 rendered, “For your Maker is your boyfriend…” Nope, I’m pretty sure it says something like, “For your Maker is your husband…” (NKJV, emphasis added). I think it also says somewhere that husbands should love their wives as Christ loved the church (see Ephesians 5:25). An Old Testament prophet named Hosea was also commanded to marry a prostitute so he could be a living symbol of the kind of husband God is to us. The husband/wife metaphor is actually quite prevalent throughout the scriptures.

Now, I’ve never been married, obviously, but I would hazard a guess that any married couple will tell you there’s a huge difference in the relationship between a boyfriend and girlfriend and the relationship between a husband and wife. Take commitment, for example. When a couple is dating, each person still has the option to back out if they should so choose. And nowadays this happens about as often as I update my Facebook status. However, once you’ve tied the knot, a husband and wife have to be committed to each other through the matte-finished daydreams and the unflattering, overexposed mug shots. They have to persevere even when it’s tough.

Dating relationships are also full of romantic fluff. It’s easy to get along with someone when their faults are veneered and sugar coated with flowers and chocolate and sentimental slog. Don’t get me wrong, these things are all good and actually important, but they don’t constitute love. Husbands and wives, in contrast, have to chose to love each other even when there are no flowers or love notes, even when the ugly is brought out of the other person.

From the couples I know (who have healthy relationships), books and blogs I’ve read, and talks I’ve heard, it seems that true love is a choice you make every day. Some days you’re going to feel like it. Some days you won’t. It’s a terrifyingly beautiful work that takes perseverance, commitment, guts, pain, discipline, and most of all, unselfishness. But what you get in the end is gold, something deeper than a bouquet of daisies and sweeter than Swiss chocolate. A love that’s mature, with its roots sunk into the Father’s heart, where it can be safely anchored and stand against any storm of time, difficulty, or infatuation.

So maybe God chose to use the wife/husband metaphor rather than the boyfriend/girlfriend metaphor because it better represented how our relationship with Him would be. Marriage seems to take sweaty effort and maybe a relationship with God does too. We’re not going to always feel like loving Him or pursuing a relationship with Him, but maybe if we choose to anyway, if we persevere and keep fighting, the love we get in the end is gold. It’s a relationship that won’t be dependent on flighty feelings. It can stand the test of time, circumstance, and emotional highs and lows because we’ve chosen to lose ourselves in the Father’s heart by faith every single day.

Maybe God doesn’t give us all the warm-fuzzies in our relationship with Him because He knows we’d only become addicted to a heavenly high. Maybe He wants our love for Him to be more than a High School Musical fling. Yes, it’s going to take a lot more work, perseverance, commitment, and discipline to choose to spend time with God and surrender to Him every day. Yeah, it’s not very glamorous and not always comfortable to read my Bible or make an effort to talk to Him. And it’s not easy to ask forgiveness for when I’ve wronged Him or to be unselfish and listen to what He would have me to do. And I definitely can’t do any of this on my own.

But if we ask for it, I think what we’ll get in the end is gold.  

And if I’m practicing this kind of relationship with a perfect God now, I’ll be more prepared for when I’m married to an imperfect husband. I’ll be able keep myself faithful even when I don’t feel like it because that’s what I’ve been doing all along for the Lord. Our love won’t be solely dependent on emotional hype or fueled by infatuation. It will be richer and more mature because we’ve each sunk and lost ourselves in a love that’s deeper than anything else in this world. And it will last.

I can understand why people like the boyfriend model of God. It’s an excellent way to market the purity doctrine, and it sounds much more appealing than “take up your cross, My wife, and follow Me.”

Blog Title

In case you've not noticed, I changed my blog title to "Under Construction" because that's what's happening. I don't like my blog title anymore. I feel like it doesn't fit me anymore so I'm going try hunt for a new name. Feel free to give any suggestions or thoughts.

Miss Guthrie

Janelle asked me if I would take some pictures for her on Sunday. So we went out to the pond and this is the result. She's a beautiful girl and I love the way that red hair just pops! Hope you enjoy the photos.