Jesus in Shantytown

On Motherhood...

2012-01-19T12:23:00.000-08:00

I look at his tiny face and the way his hair is swooped just so.

I allow my eyes to examine the contours of his face

praying that they find a safe hiding place in my memory banks.

I touch his hands and curl his little fingers around mine.

I am not one to turn them down when they come to me in the night.

I know these moments are fleeting.

I know that they won't last.

Even though there are moments when I wish to be left alone,

one day I will be just that.

Alone.

I remember the feeling I had when I gave birth to my first child.

For nine months he was literally attached to me.

Just like that...he was out of me.

This was the beginning of letting go.

It hurt deep.

As each year passes I have to let go a little more

until the day comes when I am a left woman.

This is the rub of motherhood.

These beautiful little people will grow up to be big people someday.

This home that I share with them now will one day just be a memory.

They will find a new home.

I pray that if nothing else, I can point them to streams of Living Water...

and I pray that they drink.

It could have been anyone...

2011-08-06T10:00:00.000-07:00

It isn't normal for a twelve year old girl to decorate her room with pictures from the Holocaust that she tore out of TIME Magazine. The images of emaciated corpses piled upon one another are still burned in my mind. It's not as if I enjoyed those images or got some sick pleasure from them. In hindsight, I can see that I was trying to deal with death.

I was now occupying my newly deceased brother's room. I would dream about him and wake up with the stench of death still in my nose. My youth ended with the abrupt death of my brother. I would no longer do things that kids do. From that point on, my life would be filled with skipping school, drugs, alcohol and unfortunate encounters with growing boys and groping hands that didn't have the decency to ask permission. For the record, I would have said no.

I could read fluently at a very young age. I was reading Stephen King, Clive Barker and books about true crime and the Son of Sam with graphic pictures at the age of six. These were the kinds of books that were in my house, so this is what I read. I smoked pot for the first time when I was seven. My friend's dad smoked a lot of weed and would always have ash trays filled with roaches. We decided to smoke them one day. I just remember being tired and hungry.

I was exposed to death and evil and all forms of ugliness when other little kids were still playing GI-Joe and Barbie. What this did was provide a familiarity with brokenness and depravity. That is what I knew best. I knew it and lived it, but desired for better. Even though I knew that the world was not what it should be, I still gravitated towards the broken things. They had a magnetic pull that I could not resist.

Sometimes I feel sorry for myself because of the horrific things I encountered. Things that even those closest to me have no idea about. I feel sorry that I never fit and never felt as if I belonged, and yet those are the very things that God used to draw me to Himself.

Some people are surprised by their own sin. They know that horrible crimes are committed by other people, but they never seem to be able to grasp that they have sinned as well. Maybe had my life played out a little differently, I would have been surprised, too, but God has always brought me back to my own brokenness and need for Him.

This doesn't mean that I am always aware. I suffer from a horrible form of spiritual amnesia...but for some reason, I have been redeemed. I don't quite understand it, either. I was always the underdog, always the weirdo, always the misfit. I never did anything right. In the midst of all of my sin, folly and aimless wandering, He found me. For this, I am thankful. According to the world, I am the least likely candidate for redemption. I certainly didn't earn it or deserve it, but I needed it and recognized my need for Him. The amazing thing is that this is the only requirement.

In the thick of it...

2011-06-26T13:08:00.000-07:00

I remember the day he kissed me on the way home from day camp.

He was tall and skinny and pasty white.

I don't even remember what we talked about.

But we kind of got each other.

There's this unspoken thing between sensitive types.

We operate at a different frequency.

You can see it in the eyes if you pay attention.

Many years later I ran into him.

At church.

He was married and had a beautiful baby boy.

His eyes were still the same.

Yet different.

We didn't talk much.

But that shared look was still there.

It's not a look of the romantic kind.

Anyone who has ever felt the weight of existing...

or the way that sometimes just thinking and feeling is too much...

you know the look.

The one that says, "I am in the trenches, too. I see you."

Many years after that, he hung himself.

It has haunted me.

Maybe not in the way that it has haunted those closer to him...

but I am haunted just the same.

Whenever I am in the trenches,

I think of him.

I pray that he has found peace in the arms of Jesus.

Be kind to those who are suffering.

That is a heavy weight to carry alone.

Tree House Dwellers...

2011-03-27T14:52:00.000-07:00

You have to be crazy to move your family across the country to live 35 feet up in a tree.

But, hey! It comes with an amazing art studio!!!

Run, Mandie, run!

2011-01-17T09:37:00.000-08:00

I am not sure what to do with this here space.

This here season.

This here life.

So, like Forrest Gump,

I just keep running.

And running.

Eventually, I will get there...

The Christian Hater...

2011-01-03T14:04:00.000-08:00

You know those people...

Those people

(the ones who are forever finding fault in the lives of others).

They are the people with the extra pointy fingers

and spiritual hearts that hardly ever bleed for the lost and broken.

Those people hurt people

and they hurt them in the name of the Lord.

I notice those people

and get angry with those people

and then I hear that small voice

reminding me that I am not so different

than those people.

Sometimes I find myself looking at other people

and thinking

how I would never

ever

act like them.

And then usually

(shortly thereafter)

the same characteristic or behavior trait manifests in my life

flowing from my spirit.

I am humbled

again

and again

by His Spirit.

I am thankful for the reminder

that this little heart hasn't arrived yet either.

It is becoming...

and it is happy.

Effects of the Fall...

2010-12-22T12:43:00.000-08:00

When people die,

floods of well-wishers come around to offer up their condolences

to those who have been left behind;

only nobody talks about what to do when everyone leaves.

You are left with an empty house

where the grief residing there becomes this living, breathing life-sucking

organism that hides in every nook and cranny of space.

Death blows a hole in the dynamics of relationships that self-help books cannot repair.

It sucker punches while violently invading your spirit.

It can make strong men weak and gentle women bitter.

I remember the day my brother died in random bits and pieces.

I remember that he gave me two dollars.

I remember his friend and the smell of alcohol on their breath.

They were only supposed to be going to the store.

I remember watching television in the basement and hearing a knock on the door.

I remember hearing my mom repeatedly ask two male voices where her son was.

They said that she needed to go to the hospital

and that they couldn’t give her any more information.

I remember knowing that the situation was very bad, but nobody told me anything.

I remember standing in our kitchen as my brother’s cat wove in and out of my legs,

not really understanding the gravity of the situation

but trying to stuff down that gut feeling that something was indeed very wrong.

I remember my mom coming home and taking my sister and me into our bedroom.

I remember the matter of fact way in which she told us our brother was dead.

She said three words: Mike. Is. Dead.

It was as if her mouth and vocal chords were doing all of the work.

She had already checked out.

I couldn’t touch him,

my dead brother.

His hands were huge.

They didn’t look real.

His ear didn’t look like it belonged to him.

Somebody had come in the night and put a giant’s ear in the place of his.

I watched his chest waiting for it to rise and fall,

but the pasty orange make-up on his face told me that this was not going to happen.

I knew without fully knowing, that I was looking at a vessel, and that vessel was empty.

Sometimes you find yourself in a vortex of a moment.

A wormhole of sorts,

where the world buzzes and flits around you,

but time has somehow stopped…

for you.

This was one of those moments.

After the funeral everyone gathered in our backyard.

The weather was ideal for an outdoor wedding.

It seemed odd to me that the weather seemed so…happy.

Where were the storm clouds?

Where was the rain?

Shouldn’t the heavens be crying out?

Didn’t the universe feel the need to lament with me?

There are certain events that take place that one would expect the ground to open up

and swallow them whole,

but it never happens.

The weather does exactly what God planned for it to do.

This was one of those moments that I realized that I was not at the center of the universe.

Life was going to play out how God intended it to,

and it was going to play out

regardless of whether or not I (or my brother) was there to witness it.

That’s a hard but necessary pill to swallow.

There’s wisdom in that pill.

This is the Church, This is the Steeple...

2010-12-15T06:37:00.000-08:00

Although the collective Church has many weaknesses,

ever so slowly

little communities and congregations are being transformed all over the globe,

and after the impurities are skimmed away,

a group of people who look more like Jesus than ever before are emerging,

and it's a beautiful thing.

Maybe you won’t find yourself agreeing with all of the points of view

that are found among those who call themselves Believers,

but what you will find is a certain coherent continuity:

a people with the desire to love Christ

and serve Him in the communities they find themselves in.

When taking a horizontal approach to trying to fix the condition we find the Church in,

it seems hopeless.

Unity seems improbable and impossible.

This is because most of us are vertically challenged

in the spiritual sense.

My hope is that through open and honest dialogue,

we will all learn to fix our eyes heavenward

and focus on the cross.

Let that be our starting point.

Life, Unfurled...

2010-12-14T09:06:00.000-08:00

Our life is made up of a series of defining moments;

it’s just that many of them pass us by without our ever noticing.

We serve a God who lets nothing go to waste.

In the midst of those defining moments there can be found that one moment, that one event

that changes the course of our life…forever.

People do crazy things when their world falls apart all around them.

Some become shells of who they used to be,

fooling you on the rare occasion when the twinkle briefly returns to their eyes.

Others become bitter.

It’s as if that empty shell begins to fill up with so much hurt and pain

that the remnants of that person’s heart become hardened;

the angles of their soul violently curving this way and that

turning them into these breathing robots

with very rough edges.

If we were to backstep across the terrain of their life,

we would find those events that threatened to crush them

and maybe we wouldn’t be so quick to point fingers.

A Girl and Her King...

2010-12-13T13:11:00.000-08:00

This thin cotton layer does nothing to soften the blow of the brick.

Sometimes life can be hard.

And ugly.

That's just the way it is (for now).

Yet this chest continues to rise and fall.

I belong to a band of misfits.

The misunderstood and seemingly forgotten.

I.

Just.

Don't.

Fit.

And somehow the most beautiful Being to ever exist pursues me.

And woos me.

I don't pretend to understand it.

I just....

believe.

Thank You.

If I Could Move Mountains...

2010-12-01T15:46:00.000-08:00

My boy is sick.

It is chronic.

It is progressive.

Sometimes I forget (but not really).

I find myself worrying over every fever, puke, lethargic day.

I just don't understand this disease and how it is going to progress in his little body.

I cannot fix him.

I just have to continually lay him at the feet of the One who can.

The Fruits of the American Dream...

2010-11-22T16:12:00.000-08:00

As American Christians, we like to insulate ourselves from the problems that exist beyond the cushy reality we have fabricated. This seems harsh, but it’s the truth and it needs to be addressed. This obviously doesn’t apply to everyone, but comfortable Christianity has become the norm. We have been raised to believe that we all should go to college, get a good job and buy a nice home for ourselves. Meanwhile you have Christians all over the States who are waking up in the middle of their beautiful, sprawling homes and realizing that maybe the American Dream that they have chased isn’t the dream that Jesus has for His people. They have realized that even achieving the American Dream cannot fill the sense of lack they feel in their spirit. Surely there is more to life than this, they must think to themselves. I know that I do.

The truth is that this real world we try to protect ourselves from, the one that is infested with filth and decay, this is the world that Jesus came to save. This is the world we will find Him in. Those encounters that we are so desperately hungry to have with our Maker will be found in that world that extends beyond the bubbles we try to conceal ourselves in. That world is unstable and unpredictable. We will encounter dangerous situations. It will cause us to be bucked right up against life and death, light and shadows. It is in that world where we hear both the hissing of demons and the faint whisper of Angels at work. If we’re quiet, we can hear death threatening to tear down life’s door, its breath saturated with rot and ruin. We long for eternity with our King with a hopeful expectancy and try to press on towards that future while trying to keep the spindly fingers of our mortality from extinguishing our sense of peace. That world can cripple us with fear and rob us of hope, but that world does not have the final say. Jesus was victorious. We cannot forget about the empty tomb. That empty tomb is the key to our hope.

(In)Courage..

2010-11-21T06:22:00.000-08:00

Some time ago I came across this beautiful website created to encourage women along on their journey of faith. I have been touched by the stories told and have now been given the opportunity to give back a little. You can check out my post here. Be blessed, my friends.

Bigger Isn't Always Better...

2010-11-08T16:40:00.000-08:00

I like the underdogs.

The ones who are quietly plodding along for God.

Those whose good deeds go virtually unnoticed by other men because they are too focused on Christ to put themselves in the spotlight.

I like the pastor who shepherds a small flock of sheep faithfully.

He knows that they are not his sheep and continually points them to the Good Book where they can hear the Voice of the One they belong to.

The fruits of the Spirit will not thrive in the atmosphere of me, me, me.

Additives ruin the message of the Gospel.

Entertainment is a distraction.

God can be worshipped magnificently in a dingy basement if the hearts of His people are prostrate before Him.

Otherwise you just have a really expensive building where God does not dwell.

In the land of bigger and better, the view of God has become smaller and smaller.

I don't want to play in that land.

Give me the authentic and Holy Jesus who sits with His Father.

He is good enough as is. We don't need to fashion Him in our own image.

This Here Foundation...

2010-10-11T09:16:00.000-07:00

Words.

They aren't coming easily.

They get stuck in my throat and threaten to choke me.

I am here.

Digging.

Learning.

Digging some more.

Content to know that His Word says it all.

All who are thirsty?

2010-08-12T08:42:00.000-07:00

If you want to know part of his story, look at his hands

When he pats your back the calloused skin snags your shirt

And you think about how those hands display a lifetime of toil

Hands like sandpaper that once tucked you in at night

And played beautiful music on the guitar

No longer open and close as they once did with agility

Day after day he went to work before the sun was even out

Dreaming of the day when he could retire

Dreaming of rest

Dreaming of peace

The house that was supposed to be his fortress

The one that he worked so hard to build up

That house is in ruins

His empire

Disheveled

You can lead a man to water

But you can’t make him drink

The health and wealth gospel tells him if he'll just believe

He would have abundant riches in this life

Like he could speak his desires into the atmosphere

And have them magically appear

Some would say that he has the spark of the divine in him

And that he just needs to realize this

Others would say that he is doomed

Treating him as if he has no chance

Treating him as if he were some kind of disposable human

Like those hands were made to just burn in hell for all of eternity

I see a man who is thirsty (for streams of living water)

I see a man created in the image of his Maker

Will He come to the Fountain and drink?

I do not know

But I will never stop praying

Lord, draw him close to You

You may see a heathen

I see a broken man

Lost

I see my father

And I'd like to think that my Heavenly Father is calling to him

"Sinner, come home."

Come home, Dad.

Taming the Tongue

2010-08-11T13:22:00.000-07:00

Some words just sit like a millstone around your neck

Sucking all of the wind out of your sail

Making you feel as if you have to give up

Not in a surrender-all-to-God way, either

But give up the work He has called you to do kind of way

None of us are immune to it

This tearing people down with our words

Our words can tear down

His words encourage His children

Not because we are worthy

Not because we are better than the rest

But because He loves us

(and the Bible tells us this)

That is good enough for me

What do I know?

I know that I am a sinner saved by grace

Saved

By

Grace

I don't deserve it

But I am going to try and enjoy it

If we can enjoy the love of our earthly father

Why not enjoy the love of our Heavenly Father?

Walking a mile in their shoes

2010-08-09T07:14:00.000-07:00

For over a year I have been working very hard on writing a book about unity in the Body of Christ.

I figured it would be easy.

Easy!

Sure.

I didn't realize that the foundations of everything I ever learned or believed about God would be rocked (again).

I had already questioned and wrestled and doubted.

I had already gone through all of the what ifs and worst case scenarios.

I had already studied the different perspectives outside of the Christian faith...and lived many of them.

So when I started to experience the shaking of my faith in Tsunami wave proportions, I was taken off guard (even though I prayed to be protected).

I started to read and devour anything I could get my hands on from Christians of all different stripes and colors...

and then I started to think like them.

All of them.

As I read their works and commentaries,

I began to see through their eyes (even though I tried not to).

I got them.

I.

Got.

Them.

For a short time I became emergent in my thinking.

A five point Calvinist (with four point leanings).

Legalistic.

All-inclusive.

Traditional.

Progressive.

Reformed.

Kingdom minded.

A cessationist.

A continuationist.

I wrestled.

I questioned.

I doubted.

And finally...

I surrendered.

At this point of the journey, I have to admit that I have more questions than I have answers. However, I do know that these answers can be found in His Word. I can look back and see that those tsunami waves were used to prune away the garbage and faulty thinking I had picked up from a worldy version of Christianity.

For a girl who has spent her whole life looking for concrete answers, I have learned to lean not on my own understanding (or anyone else's, for that matter) and look to His Word when I am in doubt.

I have learned (and am learning) to take nothing as gospel truth...except for the Gospel.

I am learning that at the end of the day, I have to take it to God and His Word.

If what is being said (no matter how respected the person speaking is) does not line up with the Word, I have to disregard it.

I don't know exactly where my theology will end up...

and I don't exactly care.

I just care that it lines up with His Word and that I am held safely in His hands.

If we are not showing more love and compassion for people, maybe we aren't grasping His Word.

If we are not eating, sleeping and breathing the Words of His book, maybe we aren't getting it.

But He does.

He does.

If we keep seeking after Him, He will lead the way.

I am latching onto His coattails.

I am sure there is room for you (if you repent and believe, that is)...

Shifting Sand

2010-08-07T17:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we need to just silence those voices that have shaped the way we think and feel about things (especially pertaining to the Word of God).

We build whole theologies on the way certain people have interpreted Scripture, and before we know it we are taking their word for His Word as gospel truth.

This can be dangerous.

Ultimately the words we speak have to fall in line with Scripture (no matter how eloquently said words are spoken).

Fumbling Towards Unity Friday...

2010-08-06T05:35:00.000-07:00

Conversation.

Dialogue.

Narrative.

These words are huge in the Church...yet how much do we actually listen to other believers with whom we do not agree with on all points theologically?

How often do we really stop and listen to their story?

Is it possible to have an actual conversation where we exchange thoughts, ideas and opinions regarding the faith without belittling, demeaning, or talking over one another?

The purpose of Fumbling Towards Unity Friday is to intentionally dialogue openly and honestly with believers who have differing viewpoints and to provide a space to allow for others to join the conversation.

This isn't about being "soft" and not taking a stand. This is about listening and learning and growing in the faith. As believers we are to always take it to the Word of God. May His Words be our foundation and litmus test. We may not come to an agreement about interpretation, but may we never stop opening ourselves up to better reflecting our King.

We should never demonize those who oppose us.

"knowledge puffs up, but love builds up" (1 Corinthians 8:1)

Travis Mamone is the first person to participate in this blog project . He considers himself to be an emerging Christian (if you have never heard of an emerging Christian you should do some research on emerging/emergent Christianity). Regardless of whether or not I always agree with him, I have found him to have a big heart with a love for finding truth.

In some ways, Travis and I are alike in that we both have questions. Lots of them. Yet in others we are so very...different.

This discussion took place via back and forth e-mails. I have just copied and pasted what stemmed from those in the order that they unfolded...

Mandie: What I would like to do is have you tell me the parts of your theology that you get the most heat from the more conservative, old school crowd (because I tend to fall in line with the more conservative brand of Christianity...minus the stuffy stodginess and legalism, I hope). The focus is to shine a light on the sore spots and find where we are theologically different *without* being disrespectful and rude. I am going to treat you as if you are a brother in Christ (even if i disagree with you in some areas) and I expect the same in return.

So no low blows, just honest dialogue and discourse. Let's show this generation of believers that it is possible to not agree on all points and still be united in our faith in Jesus (in spite of the tension that we hold as a result of said differences) .

Here's to peacemaking.

Ready. Set. Go!

Travis: Thank you for stetting up this peaceful discussion. It's something I always wanted to do, but never had a chance to do because of either pride on my part, or pride on the other person's part. But hopefully this will help build a bridge between conservatives and progressives.

Most of my theology is fairly orthodox. I believe that Jesus Christ is the son of God. born of the Virgin Mary. I believe He literally performed miracles. I believe He died for the forgiveness of our sins, and He physically rose from the dead.

Now here's where things get controversial:

1. I have doubts that homosexuality is a sin. From what I've read, Leviticus chapter 18 is part of the Holiness Code, not the Moral Code. In other words, it's more about being ceremonially clean than personal piety. Also, in 1 Corinthians 6:9-10, Paul makes up a word, "arsenokoitai," which is hard to translate. It has something to do with men, a bed, and female. So it might not literally mean "homosexual."

2. I have doubts about Hell. And no, it's not because I refuse to believe that a loving God would send anyone to a lake of fire for all eternity. It's because in the original Greek, the word for "Hell" was "Gehanna," which was a real place outside Jerusalem. From what I've read, Gehanna was basically a garbage heap, so Jesus might not have been talking about a literally lake of fire waiting for unrepentant sinners when they die.

I should point out, however, that I don't believe in universal salvation. I think the Bible is pretty clear that those who reject Jesus will not enter the Kingdom of God.

3. I believe Christianity is more than just a "Get Out of Hell Free" card. Yes, Jesus died for the forgiveness of our sins. There's no denying that. But I believe there's more to the Gospel than just that. I believe in the Jewish concept of "tikkun olam," which teaches that the world is shattered, and it's our job to put the pieces back together. Mankind can't do it by ourselves, of course. We need to let Jesus work through us to help put the pieces back together.

Could I be wrong about numbers 1 and 2? Yeah, sure. But how can we find the answers if we don't ask the questions?

Thanks,

Travis

Mandie: I am going to do my best to address your points without being mean. What we have with this generation of believers is people who are reading the Word of God and coming to different conclusions. This would be the case with us, to be sure. I have been asking tough questions for as long as I can remember. This is just the way that I am wired. It has not been easy winding up where I am. It is a result of years and years of pleading, begging digging and searching with God and Him continually redirecting me back to His Word (a place that I desperately tried to side step around). With that being said, I don't see how I can back anything up without using the Word. I am not a theologian...I am just a girl searching for truth and wanting to walk in the manner that would make the Lord proud. In short, I am not perfect. My theology is not perfectly packaged...but I trust that His Word is reliable and true...so here we go...

I believe and affirm the same things that you do regarding the birth, death and resurrection of Jesus. (it's a good thing, too, because that's a big one!)
So we agree there. Whew.

Of course, when things start to get controversial, I do not agree with you.

1. Homosexuality. This one hits close to home for me. When I was a teenager, I had a girlfriend. My closest friends were gay. I wore the gay pride necklaces and frequented gay clubs and bars. My sister (who was a karaoke host) worked at a gay bar every week and I loved all of my friends there...and yet (this is where it gets tough) when I study the Word, I don't see where it allows for it. Does God hate gay people? Is salvation not offered to you because you are gay? No way, and if you're standing on a street corner holding up signs saying that God says so I think you should be ashamed of yourself (or have your shins kicked, either way). I understand that this is a touchy subject. I lived this lifestyle. I would love to be able to say that I think it's okay and that we have the sexual freedom to be with whoever we want regardless of gender...but as Christians, we can't go on our wants or our thoughts. We have to stand on the Word of God (which I realize you are trying to do...this is why it's so difficult to discuss these things). Romans 1:26 comes right after a passage of Scripture that talks about what happens when we worship the created over the Creator. It talks about people being filled with sexual longings that were not right. Women lusting after women and men burning in their lust for one another. If you're like me, you might have a tendency to skim over parts of the Bible that are uncomfortable or that go against the grain of popular thought. This is one of those passages right there in the New Testament that addresses homosexuality (women laying with women, men laying with men....not just the act of rape or sodomy) and it is not addressed in a positive light. It truly stinks to have to stand up and say that something is wrong that is being accepted in the Church. You get labeled hateful. Closed-minded. Ignorant. I don't want to have to be the one to say that it's wrong. I want people to like me. I want to be friends with all different types of people...but I cannot make the text say what I want it to say or mean what I want it to mean. From where I am sitting, it seems to say that it is not ok to be both a follower of Jesus and a practicing homosexual (whether you're in a monogamous relationship or not). This is coming from somebody who has been there and done that. I am not some "stuffy" Christian who has no idea what they are talking about. I am very familiar with the gay culture. This is a painful subject for me. I have lost a lot of friends because of my stance...but until I see from the Word of God that being gay is okay, I cannot condone the lifestyle.

2. Hell. Ugh... hell. Let me just say that the idea of hell freaks me out. I would love if every living creature never had to suffer. Ever. I do not understand hell...BUT...I have to believe that the Word of God is true. If I am going to believe, I am going to believe all of it or none of it. Either it's true or it isn't...if it's partially true, what good does it do any of us? Before I go into hell, I just wanted to say one thing. We are not called to belittle or demean those who do not know Christ. It doesn't matter if you are pro-life, pro-choice, anti-gay, pro-gay, for politics, against politics. These things don't matter in the end. What matters is whether or not you go to hell. Just because I believe in hell does not mean that I should mistreat those who do not know Christ. Quite the contrary, I should be loving on them that much more. My job is not to change a persons politics or morals, my job is to point people to Jesus and His Word. Period. The rest is God's work to do. With that being said, I have to look at Scripture and what it says regarding hell. There are over six hundred warnings about hell in the Bible. 6-0-0. That is quite a bit. Do I want to gloss over it and pretend it's not in there? Absolutely, but in doing so I am not really practicing love. I can't obviously go through all the times that it is mentioned. I will go through a bit. First, you mentioned the word Gehenna. It wasn't just a garbage heap. Words were used in the Bible that spoke in the vernacular of that time in ways that the people of that day could understand. This helped give people an imagery in a way they could understand. When Jesus used the word Gehenna, it was an actual garbage dump in Jerusalem where a fire was constantly burning and full of worms and other gross stuff. It wasn't a pretty image. There is also the word tartarososas for hell. It was a word from Greek mythology that referred to a place below the grave where the most wicked and rebellious beings went...and they receive the most severe punishment. You have in Revelation 9:1 that talks about judgment and the opening of the bottomless pit...and then further on in chapter 12 it talks about a war in heaven. After that it goes on in chapter 20 to talk about being thrown in the lake of fire and brimstone (hey, hey, Jonathan Edward's <------joke). And we learn in Revelation that the elements are going to be destroyed and those who reject God are going to suffer so severely.We can't even imagine, really. Yes, hell is ugly. It's hard to talk about. Hard to understand. But it is so very necessary to address! It is the very reason that grace is so needed. I just wanted to end by saying that God loves sinners and if you come before Him with a heart that is seeking forgiveness...He will forgive. It doesn't matter the brand of sinner. There are theologians who can address this way more intelligently than I can, but I do know that it is in the Bible and it's dangerous *not* to talk about it.

3. I would have to disagree with you here as well. While it sounds all nice and lovely, it is not our job to put broken pieces back together.This is God's job. It is our job to love the Lord our God, love our neighbor as ourselves, and point them in the direction of Jesus and His Word. If you are loving your neighbor as yourself, you should naturally feed them when you can. You should naturally give them clothing if you have it. You should naturally be kind and gentle and respectful. I believe in acts of service. I believe in helping to improve living conditions. I believe in being a good steward of the earth and all of those things...but ultimately the only One who can bring about restoration is the Lord. We can only point people in the direction of the One who can put the pieces together.

Whew. There you go. I don't hate you...hopefully you don't hate me *wink*

And I completely agree with you about asking questions. We should ask questions...we should also pay attention to where we are getting those answers. As Christians, we should be constantly going back to the Word. We aren't always going to agree on all points and interpretations, but may we never stop going to His Word for the answers. (not to sound all Christianese. since you are a Christian, I speak to you like one)

-Mandie

Travis: Don't worry, I don't think you were being mean to me. There was a time when I automatically assumed that anyone who disagreed with me hated me, but after some therapy I've learned that it's not always the case. Although I will say that it is still sometimes hard for me to really listen to what the other side has to say. I hate being wrong. I really do. Which is why I really suck at debates; if there's the slightest possibility of me being wrong, I get super defensive. But I think this has been a pretty good discussion so far, don't you think?

I don't want you to think that I'm simply ignoring verses that talk about homosexuality or Hell. I take the Bible very seriously, and I believe God reveals His Word through the scripture. However, as we've seen throughout the years, scripture can be misinterpreted and abused. So I was just suggesting that maybe the way we've interpreted those particular verses are incorrect. But (even though I don't like to admit it) I could be wrong.

The homosexuality issue is especially tricky because I know many gay people who tried to "pray away the gay," but to no avail. And when those feeling didn't go away, they tried suicide. Gay people often feel like God will never love them because of who they are. So even if I'm wrong and homosexuality is a sin, I still believe we Christians need a better way to extend Jesus' love to the gay community.

Travis

Mandie:I do think that this has been good discussion. I think it's a good thing to listen to what other people are saying within the Church (even if we don't see things the same way).

I think it's okay to disagree with certain lifestyles without being hateful/hurtful. While I cannot change my stance on homosexuality (unless someone can give me solid evidence in the Bible that it's okay) I can change the way I treat people (gay or not). It breaks my heart to think of the people who have wanted to harm or kill themselves because they were led to believe that their sin was somehow unforgivable. Aren't we all sinners? Aren't we all broken without Christ? I definitely agree with you in that we as Christians need to find a better way to reach out to the gay community. I think there are lots of people who are doing just that, they just don't get a lot of recognition.

Thank you for doing this with me. I just wanted to let you know that even though I see things differently, I do not think I am above you. I think there are many things we can learn from the more progressive/emergent end of Christianity. I am listening...I just might not land on the same theological stance...but I'd like to try and learn and grow in my love for God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit and the people He has created.

If there is anything else you want to put on the table and discuss, maybe we can do a part 2 someday...

In Christ,

Mandie

Travis: You know what's funny? I always talk about dialogue and conversation on my blog, but I never really believed it was possible.One of the things I love about faith is that it's all a learning process. Unfortunately, sometimes I get tired of the learning process. I wrestle with Scripture the way Jacob wrestled with the angel; I'm pinning God to the ground with all my strength and screaming "Give me a blessing now!" in His face.

But then realize that maybe I'm approaching faith the wrong way. Instead of pinning God to the ground demanding answers, maybe true faith is a journey with the Bible as my map. Maybe the point of studying the Word is to enter into the wonder and mystery of God, to explore the new places the passages lead me, to start conversations with the people I meet along the way, to ask questions when the directions aren't clear, and to eventually arrive at my destination--revelation.

Of course it'll probably take a while for me to reach my destination. But in the meantime, I'm learning to be content with living the questions...

Love, Unfettered...

2010-08-05T09:26:00.000-07:00

From unbelief

to belief

and back again...

and again.

I get it.

We are all fumbling around in the darkness...

and some of us are brought to the Light.

Genocide and slavery and many other forms of ugliness are right there.

Right. Here. (right under our noses)

I can't pretend to know all of the answers...

and I cannot stop asking the questions ( I will not).

But I can seek to know Him more.

And love Him more.

And listen when His Spirit tugs at me to tell the world that there is a better way.

This God...

the one who breathed life into dust...

and sent His Son as a sacrifice...

He doesn't always make sense to me...

but I believe Him when He says that He is love.

I have to.

Because if not Him...

then who?

What?

I bring myself prostrate before Him

knowing that I do not have all of the answers...

but He does.

He does.

With this doubt I sit at His feet.

I am okay with just the hem of His garment.

Salvation, unfolding...

2010-08-01T13:38:00.000-07:00

With frail hands, I turn over thoughts and concepts

Tired bones curling and unfurling

Examining ideas and motives underneath the light of Your Word

Listening for Your voice in the cadence and syntax swirling about

It is there (in Your Word)

It is here (written on the tablet of my heart)

Watching and listening to creation reiterate what You have already said

You alone are God

To You alone should we praise

With eyes fixed heavenward

I wait for the city that is not made by human hands,

Eternal in the heavens

What to do when "this too" doesn't seem to pass...

2010-07-29T09:10:00.000-07:00

What do those of us who constantly seem to be caught up in a storm do?

Do we give up?

Do we throw our fists up to the heavens and curse the day we were born? (Job did!)

Do we smile and nod when people bring up the fact that we are like a modern day Job? (it has been said)

The answer: sometimes.

Yet these storms, however painful and terrifying and horrible to experience, are used to polish off the rough edges of our hearts and minds.

With each crashing wave that washes over us...

each rock our body slams against...

We are not crushed and devoured.

The surface of our souls are smoothed out so that we can better reflect the King (if we allow Him to work in us).

Although it is our initial reaction to panic and resist,

it is in these storms that we must surrender ourselves to His will and trust that He knows what He is doing.

Yes, it feels as if I am drowning...

but He promises that He has good things for me (even in this).

I am trying to trust and obey even if it hurts.

Even if I want to throw in the towel.

Resolve is coming.

Eventually, His story does have resolve.

Through salty lips

I offer up praise.

I can smell restoration in the air.

Stripped down to the bare essentials...

2010-07-28T06:34:00.000-07:00

When I allow the words and actions of others to shape the perception I have of the Christ who has been revealed to me through His Word and by His Spirit, He becomes ugly.

Scary.

The Way that is impossible to reach.

The ruler with the iron fist that is raised and always hovering over me waiting to smite me.

I can't win with this Jesus.

This Jesus is holding up all of these hoops that I have to jump through to reach His Father (who is even more sinister than the Son).

Or the reverse is true.

He becomes mushy (in a weak, spineless sort of way).

Permissive (seeming as if He doesn't really guide and direct His sheep).

His death seems pointless.

So...He died a horrific death...just for show?

But when I listen to His voice...

and read His Words...

He is anything but those things.

He is not some generic, man-made version of love...

He is the epitome of love.

His very nature...

love.

Not some wussy version of impostor love...

But fierce love.

Crazy love.

Powerful love.

Transforming love.

Sacrificial love.

Atoning love.

The kind of love that can (and did!) change the world...

and hearts of men.

I am just fumbling around like everyone else searching for His Words that never fail to illuminate the dark and drive out the spiritual creepy things.

Love wins, alright.

His love.

I want more of that...

because that Lord?

He has also used the clouds and the stars as if they were cursive letters writing His Story...

and what a breathtaking Story it is.

Peeling off the mask (one layer at a time)...

2010-07-25T18:24:00.001-07:00

Transparency.

Authenticity.

These are things that people are drawn to.

But sometimes I wonder if I really have the permission to truly be transparent and speak my mind...especially in the Church.

Lately I have been struggling.

Really struggling.

I am in this strange place of feeling as if I don't fit anywhere in the Church (not even on the fringes).

Although I want to live a radical life, I do not think that the things I do are really all that radical. I think that they are just a given. If you love Jesus, you should love on His people (even the seemingly unlovable ones).

I have a long way to go before I love people the way that I should or even desire to...but I am trying.

Oh, am I trying.

So I feel like there is this part of me that I have to hide.

I am too progressive for the fundamentalists and too fundamental for the progressives.

It makes me feel like a poser because there doesn't seem to be a middle ground between the two extremes (without being labeled lukewarm...which I pray I am not).

Where does this leave me?

Confused, I guess.

Not sure where a gal like me fits in the Christian landscape.

I am going to share something I wrote inspired by a friend.

I have been too afraid to share it publicly because I didn't want to get flamed.

But if I am really going to be real with people...I have to put my whole self out there.

I cannot live a lie:

You hung up the things of the world

only to pick them right back up

hiding behind the "Christian" guise (everything is permissible, you like to say)

who are you trying to kid?

you smell like sin

it's seeping out your pores...

I know

I have sin, too

that's not the problem

the problem is that you try to pretend that it's not (sin)

I have to be honest with you

When we worship together,

It doesn't feel like worship

It feels like I am drowning

It takes me back to my dark days

When I was spirit deep in the muck and the mire

It makes me second guess what I was taught by His Spirit

It makes me want to give in to the calling of my flesh

leaving me to stare at all of the frayed edges of these split theological hairs

If I speak my mind to you

you will tell me that I am too rigid and judgemental

and you are right (on some level)

But please

please

don't call me hateful.

Maybe when it comes to faith I just want to be a simpleton for once

I want to stare at my King with child-like wonder

and believe Him when He says that He came to save me from the wages of sin (mine).

I am tired.

Tired of doubting.

Tired of questioning.

I just want to believe.

Is that allowed?

Embracing the tension...

2010-07-12T09:36:00.000-07:00

Tension.

We can try to avoid it...
but there it is, a permanent reality among us until His Kingdom comes.

I am trying to figure out how to feel and think what I do without it getting in the way of loving people. That is tricky, to say the least.

Inwardly, I am conservative, but this doesn't hold a lot of weight because of what I look like. Outwardly, my appearance keeps me from being able to serve or speak in a lot of churches.

There is a tension there.

I have found that it doesn't always matter if my heart is in the right place. Some people just can't see beyond my skin. I can either be bitter and unloving towards these people, or I can choose to accept the fact that we aren't going to resolve this easily...so I embrace this tension.

I see public disagreements between prominent Christian people splattered all over the Internet. Pick a topic, I am sure we are divided on it (and blogging, facebooking or tweeting about it).

Do we spend all of our time trying to prove everybody who doesn't agree with us on all points wrong, or do we love them anyway? What about prayer? What ever happened to Believers praying for one another?

I am not suggesting that we don't confront sin, but there is a difference between calling one another out in love and mockery.

Can we please just embrace this tension already? Until we are fully restored, it's here to stay, people.

Is it okay to publicly make fun of self-proclaimed Christ-followers whose methods of evangelism we disagree with?

What are constructive ways we can deal with tension in the Body?

Where i'm at...

2010-07-02T16:29:00.000-07:00

I have been here before.
Broken.
Vulnerable.
Weak.
Completely dependant upon my King (and living my life as if this were true).
Wanting to take all of these hurts, fears, doubts and scars...and hide them.
I have reached the end of me.
Again.
I am standing at the edge of the abyss and being asked to free fall with arms wide open.
There is a reason for my brokenness.
There is a reason for this pain.
This spot...(the one that is the most tender to the touch)...this is the spot where His glory shines through.
This is where redemption comes...
This is where grace comes...
This is where reconciliation comes...
I am right where He wants me to be.
I surrender.

We love your heart....but...

2010-06-18T16:53:00.000-07:00

It was in the bag (or so we thought). We got in the car and traveled across the country to a very rough city that sits right outside of New York City (where I was homeless as a teen). It was hard for me to be there. The smells and the sights took me back to a life I had left behind. It was hard to deny the call. It seemed clear: this is where the Lord wanted us to be. Right smack dab in the center of the projects sits a church that truly is a beacon of light to its community. The hearts of those who served on staff ached for the plight of the poor and marginalized. How could we say no?

They accepted us with open arms. We stayed the weekend and served with them. We shared our hearts and how we had been burned by churches in the past because of the way we looked. They were sympathetic and understanding. They wanted us to pray about it, but if we wanted the job, it was ours...

The timing was perfect. Our new job would start the day after the last day of my husband's current job. Our contract for our home was up the month after. Everything was aligning. We were excited to go. We told our children (who cried and had a very difficult time with the news) and friends. I lost plenty hours of sleep with the anxiety that comes from moving your family into one of the roughest cities in America. We counted down the weeks...and then a month later, we got a phone call. Somebody on the leadership team did not want us to come because of our tattoos. Not our theology. Not because we weren't gifted in the areas needed. Because of ink. In our skin.

The supervising pastor from the church that served in leadership over the church in the projects asked us if we could write out why we had tattoos and to write out a credo. Because it was a reformed church, we had to agree with their doctrines. This is what I wrote:

(insert a bunch of church speak here declaring what I believe)

Regarding my tattoos:

From the time I was a little girl, I was always…different (my mama would say eccentric, meaning weird). I am a creative/artsy type. That is just the way that God made me. I always found tattoos interesting and beautiful (unless it was a demon mauling a baby or something pornographic and offensive). The Lord brought me to Him when I was twelve years old, but I was slow on the catch. I didn’t officially give Him my life for good until I was twenty. I started to get visible tattoos that could not be covered when I was a teenager. When I rededicated my life to Christ, I already had them. I decided that since I already had them, I would at least get some that pointed to Him (thus the tattoo of Jesus and the banner that says that He is Lord). I have always had a heart for the poor, the lost and the marginalized. I have been a magnet for a demographic the world calls “the freaks and weirdos”. Having tattoos has given me an automatic in (but I wouldn’t suggest getting tattoos so that you can witness to people…this is just how my testimony has played out). I have had extensive conversations about God and Christ with drug dealers, former convicts, prostitutes and the like, just because I have tattoos. For me, my tattoos have been a witnessing tool (but I did not plan for this to be the case).
The down side to this is that I have been judged rather harshly by a significant number of Christians. I have been denied the opportunity to use the gifts that God has given me to help further His Kingdom, not because my heart is in the wrong place or that my theology is in error, but because I have ink in my skin. The problem with this is that I can be willing to allow the Holy Spirit to mold and change my character, but I cannot take away the fact that I have tattoos (unless I had an enormous amount of money to pay for them to get removed –a very painful and time-consuming process).

Before I make a request, I just wanted to say a few things: I would never, ever try to convince a youth to get tattooed. This is not my place and I have more important things to share with them. I am called to spread the Gospel of Christ, not the “gospel” of tattoo culture.

My request is this:

Martin Luther King, Jr. said it best when he said, “I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

I ask the same thing.

If you can close your eyes and hear my heart and you find yourself resonating with it (because we have the same Spirit living within us), please don’t disregard that because my appearance makes you feel uncomfortable or you are worried about what parents in the community will say. Please do not let the fact that we have tattoos be the determining factor in whether or not we are welcomed into serving in your community.

Base your decision on our hearts for the Lord, the content of our character, and whether or not we have the skill sets that you need.

Regardless of the outcome of your decision, thank you. Thank you for allowing us to take a sneak peek into your lovely community. Keep spreading the love of our King to a community that so deeply needs Him.

May the Lord continue to do His mighty work in and through you.

In Christ,

Mandie Oliver

We waited. And waited. The supervising pastor was happy with how we responded and said that it just made him want to get to know us even more.

Yesterday they did the official vote. It was a 50/50 split. One person in the leadership even said that they wanted to remove their earings so as not to defile their temple. Yep. Read that gem again. It's true...and that annoying flesh part of who I am? It is angry. It wants to lament from the virtual rooftops of twitter and facebook and various other social media outlets. I want to put myself above these people...because surely I am above that, right? Right?

The truth is, we are all imperfect. All of us. We are all inclined to sin that manifests in different ways. I am no better...just...different in my strengths and weaknesses.

The human/broken side of me is tempted to allow myself to become bitter. At what point do you just throw your hands up because everywhere you turn in the Church you are told you don't fit?
When do you give up? Can you just walk away from a divine calling on your life?

Is it the posture of our hearts or the color(s) of our skin that is important? Should tattoos automatically exclude you from serving in the Body?

Sometimes the lies are deafening...

2010-05-12T14:22:00.000-07:00

Stupid. Ugly. Worthless. Horrible parent. Fat. Too skinny. Not good enough. Too much. Nobody listens to you. You're too loud. Not loud enough. Loser. Your life is never going to get any better. If they really knew you they would hate you. Nobody really loves you. Why did you go and open your big mouth? That word you gave? It was full of crap. Your ministry is futile. You'll never make a difference. Maybe if you slice yourself up you'd feel better. Go ahead, take that bottle of pills. Nobody will even notice when you're gone. Your kids would be better off without you. Your (mom, dad, husband, wife, sister, brother, friend) doesn't love you. What you're doing doesn't matter. You're disgusting. You don't deserve happiness. God doesn't love you. You're too broken. Too jaded. Too lost. Too hopeless...

That same ugly voice manifests itself differently in each of our lives.

There is only one Voice that can drown it out...

His is the only one worth listening to.

More than a homeboy...

2010-05-11T09:57:00.000-07:00

Is this the kind of God we want to worship?

Seriously?

I am tired of the Jesus a lot of people in my generation are peddling. I don't want to kick back with my "buddy" Jesus and have a beer. I don't need the Jesus who is burning incense and reading Rumi. I want the kind of Jesus who is all about His Father's work. The One who will burn this garbage from my heart and mind and cleanse me.

The truth of the matter is that I am a mess. My heart and soul are full of rotting and disgusting things. I need a God who is so much more than my homeboy. I need a God who is going to knock me flat on my face and shake me to the core...because if He doesn't, I am done for.

In a strange turn of events, I am wanting to reconnect with the God I learned about in Sunday school. That God had faithful servants who could care less about popular trends and technology. That God had servants who gave everything they had to serve His people. They didn't have lots of trendy followers, and they certainly weren't flashy...but they were real. Those people...the ones I so desperately tried to distance myself from? They are still going strong and serving the King. They have not placed themselves at the center of the story. They are too busy doing the work of God to sit around talking about intentional community and serving the poor. They are not pointing their fingers like a spoiled teenager at other Christians who do things differently. Their eyes are are fixed firmly on that one cross...you know, the old rugged one.

That's a Jesus I can lay down my life for.

Will the real J. C. please stand up? It's getting hard to see You with all of these imposters in the midst...

"I am the way, the truth, and the the life. No one can come to the Father except through me." (John 14:6)

Putting my life where my mouth (and heart) is...

2010-05-10T10:35:00.000-07:00

In less than ten weeks my family will be on our way to live in the projects of Newark.

Can't exactly keep talking about my love for the poor and marginalized from my cushy little home I have made for myself among the trendy, educated, philosophically-inclined, wealthy, suburban, white-collar types.

I am going to find out what dying to myself really looks like.

I am scared.

Coming out (so to speak)...

2010-04-18T10:12:00.000-07:00

Everybody has parts of themselves that they keep (or have kept) hidden. People who know me or read what I have written often tell me they love how transparent I am. Whenever this happens, I find myself cringing on the inside. If they only knew. If they knew everything would they still love and respect me?

I have shared about my homeless past. I have shared about the stripping, the drugs, the premarital sex and an assortment of other not so pretty things. That was easy (relatively, anyway) compared to this one thing...

This would be that one thing that I would rather not share (with other Christians). I am not prepared for the flogging...and the looks...and the talking behind my back. I am not prepared to lose friends or anything else that comes with sharing this part of myself...

but...

this life is not my own.

Lately I have lost some friends because I spoke out against Jennifer Knapp being both a self-proclaimed follower of Christ and a practicing lesbian.

"How hateful!" some have said. "How judgemental!" said others.

What can I say to that?

What am I supposed to do?

Tell them the truth, Mandie.

I knew that God had been nudging me to be completely honest (something I had only done in part before), but I really (reeeeeaaaaalllllly) do not want to be...

Tell them the truth.

The truth is that I do not hate homosexuals. The truth is that I can identify with what they are going through. I understand the struggle.

I want to paint a picture to defend myself, but if you read back on the specific time in my life it is obvious (and I really only want to paint a picture to make my choices not look that bad). When I say that I didn't know which way was up, I meant it.

Before I even had a boyfriend, I had a girlfriend.

I met her right after being homeless.

She had friends who lived down the street from me.

It wasn't a good experience for either of us.

I was always wishing for a husband and children.

She was always wanting more than I could give her...

...and I just never could get over the fact that she had...lady parts.

When I left that life behind, I chose to never go back. Ever. It wasn't something that meshed with what I found in Scripture, and it never felt natural.

When I made the decision to leave all of the garbage behind that came with that time in my life, there was a certain musician that helped me move forward in my walk with Christ.

Jennifer Knapp.

Why do I care that she's openly gay now?

Because I know that there is going to be a whole slew of Christian people who struggle with their sexuality who are going to go down the same path.

If Jennifer Knapp is doing it (and being accepted for it), why can't they?

I do not believe that it is acceptable to treat a person in a hateful manner. I don't believe it's okay to say mean and nasty things, either...

...but I do believe in standing up for and upholding God's word.

Are we really going to be a generation of Believers who pat other Believers on the back for living a lifestyle that does not line up with God's word?

If we say that's okay, what's next?

Are we not to have any boundaries?

Is it a free for all?

If it is, where does the laying down of your life come in?

Are we to treat people who choose to live in an openly gay manner like garbage? Absolutely not, but we don't have to pretend to agree with their choices, either.

*if you are a girl and you are my friend, please know that even if I wasn't married, you have the wrong parts for me. I am not interested in you...

What would my life look like...

2010-04-12T06:35:00.001-07:00

...if I truly lived out what my mouth professed?

If I lived my life as if every second truly mattered?

So often I find myself living my life as if most moments are just a series of insignificant events.

I have decided to move in the direction of danger.

I have decided to quit playing it safe.

I have decided to do all of those things for the Kingdom that I was afraid to do. I allowed fear to dictate what I did and did not do for God and His people.

I hope to be able to take you along on this journey.

Hold onto something, Internet.

Change is a-comin'...

Ready for a sackcloth and wild honey..

2010-03-11T12:52:00.001-08:00

I go to a church every Thursday morning where a large group of women come to worship and study the Bible. I love it. I do...

But all of the women dress so beautifully. Many of them have lots of money.

There are all of these extra special events that cost money.

And I find myself worrying about my clothes.

Instead of worshipping God, I start feeling inferior in a sea of designer jeans and expensive perfume...and then I get kind of mad...

I wonder if this is really what the Christian life is all about.

Is it really about fancy clothes and money?

It's more than just the clothes.

It's the fact that we feel the need to pretty ourselves up and only show the versions of ourselves that have it all together.

And this version is fake.

I want to smack that version in the face (in Christian love, of course) and tell it to quit wearing a mask.

I don't know about you, but I am a mess.

A hot mess.

I am broken and self-centered.

I have a difficult time holding it together most days.

I can fake it pretty well...

But maybe I am tired of faking it.

Maybe I am tired of popularity contests.

I am tired of labels and "So, what do you do for a living?"

Do our jobs define us?

Do our clothes define us?

I am tempted to go all John the Baptist up in here...

Instead, I will not allow anything other than my love for the Creator define me.

And this is what I so desperately want to see in the Church.

I love the Church. I do not want to bash it...

But right about now a large number of us are representing the bride of Christ as if she were a cracked out version of Barbie.

Her Groom deserves better than that.

Convicted...

2010-03-08T12:52:00.000-08:00

I have never sponsored a child. I justified this because I am "too poor". I would convince myself that this was okay because my family is on government assistance. I didn't give it much thought because my husband works for the American Red Cross and we serve in other ways.

But that was just an excuse.

Because I have spent a great deal of time praying for a little extra money so that I can buy curtains for my kitchen that match and other odds and ends around the house.

I prayed for extra money so that I could get some cosmetic work on my teeth done.

I prayed for money so that I could take my children traveling.

Are these things bad?

I do not think so.

But something is terribly wrong with the fact that I put these wants above the needs of those who do not even have their basic needs met.

Never once did I pray for extra money so that I could sponsor a child...at least not for today.

And I am ashamed of myself.

I was going to help a child someday.

We all know that someday never comes.

Today I am going to do what I should have done a very long time ago.

I am going to sponsor a child.

It is the least I can do.

Please do not pat me on the back.

Hold me accountable.

Ask me if I am sticking to my word.

If you call yourself a Christian, please consider doing something today to help a child in need.

It's not an elective.

It is something we are commanded to do.

Inventory...

2010-02-13T16:42:00.000-08:00

I am here. Weaving in and out of the ebb and flow. Watching and waiting. Hoping and dreaming. Realizing that the problems that can be found within the Church are the same problems that I am facing within my own spirit. Taking note that the bigger battlefield doesn't look that much different than my own heart and mind. I am sitting around waiting to be pursued. Wanting the Body to engage and captivate me without truly engaging the Body. When my faults are all laid out on the table, the imperfections jump out at me and gnaw at my throat. Imperfection is imperfection. Lack of holiness is lack of holiness. Who am I to judge?

Who are we to judge?

Who are you to judge?

(but a good healthy dose of discernment is quite alright...)

Beyond Leviticus....

2010-01-27T10:14:00.000-08:00

For the second time in my young adult life, I decided to devote myself (once again) to following the path of Jesus that is illuminated in Scripture. With the homeless and travelling days still fresh in my not too distant past, I had many open wounds from those experiences. I already felt unworthy to step foot into a church, but came to the realization that my love for Jesus and His Father had to supersede any fears I had. I decided to revisit a church that I went to in high school. My hair was an intense shade of pink and I had visible tattoos. I walked into the foyer with my eyes looking to the ground. I tried to make my way to the sanctuary but got stopped rather harshly by a man standing near the doors. He started quoting Leviticus and was shaking his head at me in a scolding manner. Disgust was written all over his face. At that moment, I wanted to disappear. I didn't understand why he was quoting Leviticus to me while clean shaven. I told him to go grow out his sideburns and briskly walked towards the pews. I would like to say that this was the only time that I was treated this way, but this is sadly not the case. Many times I have experienced the cold shoulder or evil eye from a Believer --in the house of God, no less. I cannot help but think about how wrong this is on so many levels. What about grace? What about hope for the lost in Jesus? Aren't we all in the same boat without Christ?

As I think about those not so nice encounters, I am also reminded of the ways in which I have maybe not so blatantly given others the cold spiritual shoulder. I often find myself sizing up other Believers while looking for holes in their theology. I act as if I am expecting them to mess up. A friend once said to me that he found it surprising that people act shocked when broken people fall. "Of course they're going to fall!'' he said...and he's right, but thankfully there is hope. There is grace. There is so much more beyond the book of Leviticus.

In what ways can you extend more grace and kindness to those who appear to be lost and broken?

Helping the "little" people...

2010-01-21T06:32:00.000-08:00

If you're like me, you have probably been trying to think of ways to help the people of Haiti. There are loads of lists compiled of reputable organizations...but what about the unknowns who have opened up their homes that are still standing and have used what little resources they have to set up makeshift emergency rooms? What about those pockets of people who are using what little propane and food that they have left to feed a comparatively large number of hungry survivors? I stumbled upon this beautiful blog of a family who is right in the heart of the tragedy in Port Au Prince and they are doing amazing things with what they have. Please take the time to read their latest blog post, and if you feel so led, donate to their ministry.

Fifteen followers may not be much, but it is something. If each of you donate to their ministry, it would give them more supplies to help the people in their neighborhood. Instead of buying a coffee, give that money to a family in Haiti who are truly being the hands and feet of Jesus in the middle of hell on earth...

Will you give up a cup of coffee or a date night for some friends in need?

Generation Fame : attempting to dodge our immortality...

2010-01-18T11:50:00.000-08:00

''In the Japanese aesthetic, what is beautiful is associated with death. It is the cherry blossom falling to the ground; it is the last thing, beautiful in its dying. The elderly, therefore, are more worthy of respect; they are more beautiful!" -Makoto Fujimura

If you're old enough, you've probably had the lyrics to Fame (with its proclamations of living forever) stuck in your head. In America, we frown upon aging. We cast our elderly to the side and do our best to forget about them. Everywhere we look, whether it be on billboards or television, products are being advertised that promise to prolong our mortality and longevity. In the midst of our dodging and denial, we are reminded that our life on Earth is but a vapor. We are reminded again and again in the form of childhood cancer. Stillbirths. Miscarriages. Earthquakes. Hurricanes. Accidents. Suicides. We are reminded that death happens. We look into the eyes of aging earthen vessels, and we fail to see the humanity in them. We only see death. If we were to look at the treasure that is hidden in their decaying bodies, would we treat them the way that we do? If tribes of people in the most remote corners of the globe can appreciate and incorporate the elderly and dying into their customs and culture, why can't we?

I have been challenged by the community of Believers that I am plugged into to live more intentionally. To live as if I only had 30 days left to live. If I were to really let that possibility sink in, how differently would I live out my life? Ho would I treat people? What would I change?

If given only 30 days to live, how would you live? What would happen if we all lived our lives as if every second and every person mattered? What would that world look like?

For the love of a so-called "Jewish Zombie"...

2010-01-13T05:43:00.000-08:00

As far back as I can remember, I was always searching for meaning. I wanted to know that there would one day be an end to pain and suffering. As a child, I spent much of my time thinking about topics such as life and death and the existence (or non-existence) of God. Although I would say that I came to the realization that there was a God and that He had a Son named Jesus at the age of 12, I only put half of my trust in Him. Atheism was never an option for me. For many people , the belief in God is foolish. For me, the sum total of all that I had ever learned or experienced pointed me in the direction that there had to be a God. I wasn't yet fully convinced that the Christian faith and the Bible represented Him. So I studied as many world religions as I could. I read about Divination and experimented with Wicca (witchcraft). I went on a spiritual quest to see if the God of the Bible was who He said He was. I traveled the country with Hare Krishnas, Buddhists, Rastafarians, Wiccans, atheists, New Agers, and the list goes on. I participated in peaceful protests with Tibetan Lamas, and Peyote Ceremonies with Shamans and Hopi Indians. I spent some time at Buddhist and Hare Krishna Temples observing their practices and the ways in which they worshipped. It was during this time that I spent homeless or travelling on a school bus (with a lot of hitchhiking along the way). Every single place I tried to run away from the Christian God, there He was. From strip clubs, to Buddhist Temples, to the mountains in Oregon and the caves underneath New York City. There He was, popping up in the most creative and surreptitious ways; but during this time, as the Catholic Mystic Saint John of the Cross would say, I experienced many dark nights of the soul. Quite honestly, those nights stretched into weeks and months...and nip at my heels even to this day.

A few days ago an atheist friend of mine had posted a quote from a Funny Atheism ad onto his facebook. To me, it is not funny on any level. It actually made me angry to see the Creator of the universe reduced to a pile of rubbish with words. This is what it said:

"The belief that a cosmic Jewish Zombie who was his own father can make you live forever if you symbolically eat his flesh and telepathically tell him you accept him as your master, so he can remove an evil force from your soul that is present in humanity because a rib-woman was convinced by a talking snake to eat a magical tree...yeah, makes perfect sense."

You would be hard-pressed to find a Christian who didn't doubt. We all do. This is why we should talk about it more. Fear and doubt is pretty much a given. These rusty old tools won't be retired anytime soon, but this doesn't mean that we have to be consumed by them.

Maybe you have been up close and personal with the great abyss. Maybe you're experiencing a dark night of the soul right now. I don't know. I can't prove to you or write it out in a mathematical equation, but I can tell you that I have seen the hands of this so-called "Jewish Zombie", and He is alive and well.

The problem isn't that we experience a dark night, it's what we do on those nights that define who we really are. What do you do with your fear?

Whatcha gonna do wit' all that junk?

2010-01-12T15:21:00.000-08:00

Garbage. It's not even a pretty word to say. It invokes images of filth, rot and decay. It's here among us, yet we do our best to hide and compartmentalize it. Without grace and love and hope, our spirits become these festering cesspools. Many destructive characteristics and attributes rise up from the depths. Not one of us immune to the affects of our sin nature, but we all like to put on these masks and pretend as if we are. To expose ourselves (especially our buried uglies) is never easy.

When I look back on the days and months and years of my life that I spent either homeless, stripping or doing drugs, I am tempted to keep a Kung-Fu death grip on certain information. Even now, I am not sure of the amount of information I will make public, but I will try to do my best to share when I am feeling led. I know that there are many people who think that I should keep my past to myself. What good does it do to share this stuff now? When I was trying to find my way back to God, I didn't fit into any church (this battle is still ongoing) I felt inferior and disgusting. I felt like I needed to polish myself up and make myself better before I could become closer to God. I created this catch-22 for myself. I needed and wanted God, but felt as if I couldn't until I was better. I could never become better until I drew closer to God...but I believed the false representation presented by many churches and Christians here in the states. We appear to be so well put together. We look alike; speak alike; dress alike, and any person who even has a hint of "otherness" is left on the outside. This is how it appears when you are on the outside of that bubble. It's cold, dark and lonely, and so many people are standing on the outside begging for a bone...but in order for them to even want to attempt to step foot in, we have to be real. As a Church, we need to talk about porn more (and not just in a male, gender-exclusive way, either), and mental illness more, and pride more and you fill in the blank...because there are people out there living and breathing and raising babies in the muck and mire and they need to know that the only thing that makes us different is Christ. They need to know that we alone are no better, just as they alone are no worse.

There came a point in my life when I was forced to take a look at all of my own personal garbage. I realized that the sin I was holding onto was making my heart and mind the spiritual equivalent of what a compulsive hoarder's house looks like. If we try to keep up this pristine image on the outside, eventually our frame will not be able to withstand the weight of our garbage. I think that you can see this happening now in the American Church. You can only keep up the facade for so long. Eventually, it will crumble. We need to just admit that, yes, the Bride's crown is on crooked and her breathing has become faint, but ever so slowly little pockets of faith are beginning to rise up, and if we take a closer look at her face, we can see Jesus, and His image is becoming clearer...

Without God's grace, we are all a mess. Our spirits become one giant landfill and breading ground for all sort of uglies. Without the transforming power of grace, we are these living, breathing, festering cesspools, but if we make ourselves more vulnerable, we serve a God with mad recycling skills who promises to give us beauty for these ashes.

Find that one spot. That spot that is the most painful and tender to the touch, and I imagine that it is that very spot that can be used the most to bring about healing...because this is usually how it works. What are you afraid of exposing?

see you at the (stripper) pole...

2010-01-11T08:18:00.000-08:00

I went directly from living on the streets of Chicago, New York City and the caves of the Shawnee National Forest in Southern Illinois (and sometimes on a school bus with a melting pot of people stemming from an assortment of stripes and colors), to living in the ghetto near Detroit with some friends. Even though I was considered to be a prude because I had never been with a man in the biblical sense, I decided to be a waitress at the local Showgirls Club with a roommate. I didn't even make it a day before the girls had talked me into giving dancing a whirl (a classy way of saying stripping) I was thankful that my near-sightedness obscured the faces of that packed club; making it easy for me to pretend that I wasn't being ogled by a bunch of guys, but it did nothing to protect my other senses. Their lust was palpable and the air was heavily laden with hurt and addiction.

It was in that club that I met a dancer who grew up a Christian and had spent most of her teens running from the God she encountered in Sunday school. Somewhere along the way she had lost her faith, but had managed to keep her desire to return to Him...eventually. We talked a lot about Jesus and how He had this peculiar way of showing up wherever we were. We missed Him, but had no idea how to return. We felt as if we were too far gone, and even if we did go back, there was this paradigm problem to address. How did the world that was opened up to us fit into the Christian model that was presented to us in Sunday school? In that moment, we were no longer just strippers. We were two prodigal daughters mourning the loss of a relationship with the Savior; discussing theology, and desperately wanting to be reconciled. Right smack dab in the belly of a strip club, the Almighty broke through. We didn't have a Bible, but I know that the Great I Am was there with us --weeping.

We all have this way of putting God into this neat and tidy little box and He has a knack for blowing the sides out of those boxes. We like to think that He will only show up in X church, in X denomination, in X conversation, in X way; but this is obviously not how He works. I have seen God show up in a strip club. I have seen Him speak truths to me through homeless crack-addicted children. He was there with me as I sat in a bathroom watching a prostitute use a blow-drying wire for a tourniquet so that she could shoot up speed, just as He was with me when I poured my heart out to Him asking Him to rescue me.

People go to the ends of the earth for the people they love. Why would the Creator be any different? In what unconventional places have you encountered God?

We the hungry...

2010-01-05T19:03:00.000-08:00

Between the ages of 12-18, my time was spent ricocheting between living with various relatives (a few of those years were spent in a foster home). Prior to that, I was raised by a young, single mother. I was a latchkey kid. This left me feeling disconnected and alone most of the time. The last year of my teens was spent traveling and wandering, with a portion of it being homeless. My experience as a homeless teen forced me to not only take a closer look at the pain and suffering that is a result of human depravity and greed, but to also live and breathe it. It's one thing to read about it in a textbook; hear a personal account of what it's like; or to have a conversation with one who is homeless, but it is quite another to experience it first-hand. Instead of looking at that person with disgust, I became that person forced to urinate in public (because if you're homeless, you're not allowed to use public restrooms). Instead of covering up my nose to hide the stench, I became that filthy person whose body odor was so offensive nobody wanted to be around them. Instead of worrying about what college I would attend, I was worrying about whether or not I was going to be able to find a dumpster that was wasn't chained shut so I could eat something. Anything. Sometimes, when I am driving by a group of homeless people in my nice-ish car with the heat on, I have to quiet that voice that wants to judge them and remind her of what it felt like to be in that position. I have to remind her of what it felt like when hunger was a way of being; what it felt like to have no dignity; no sanctuary; no home...and sometimes, she listens...and she reminds me of the echoes of that life that she can see in the Church --only this crises of homelessness doesn't have the easily distinguishable tell-tale signs. You cannot smell us when we approach, but if you're quiet, you can hear our hearts crying out. We are hungry for an authentic encounter with the King of Kings...

Many Christian's today can relate to my story, in that most of us feel as if we don't have a spiritual home to land. We are the spiritually homeless. We are stuck in the middle of The Church that is having an identity crises and the Church that we know is possible. It’s not as if we don’t want to belong, because we do, but we are unsure as to where and how we fit into the Body. A large number of us have grown restless and feel despondent. We have this beautiful vision of what the Church could be or what we think it should be, but we have no idea how to breathe life into that vision. Instead of seeing a beaming Bride when we look at the Church as a whole, we see a schizophrenic maiden with a head full of split theological hairs. Her hands are mocking her feet, and sometimes it seems as if she is slapping herself in the face. We look at all of her imperfections and fail to notice that beneath her tattered dress, encased by her ribcage, is a heart that is beating to the rhythm of the sounds heard spilling forth from the High Throne in Heaven. Hers is a heart that is sealed with the mark of the Lion of Judah. Her Groom is the Risen King, and you can be sure that His vision for His Church is far greater than we could ever dream up ourselves. While we see and dream dimly, His visions are bursting with color at the seams, and that vision? That vision will be carried out into completion -- we just need to hang onto His coattails and go wherever He takes us...

How about you? Have you ever felt spiritually homeless?