The "Easy Way" Out

¹⁴ But even if you should suffer for the sake of righteousness, you are blessed. And do not fear their intimidation, and do not be troubled, ¹⁵ but sanctify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always being ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence; ¹⁶ and keep a good conscience so that in the thing in which you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ will be put to shame.

 

Recently I read an article in Christianity Today by a woman describing what she called her “train wreck conversion”.  She tells the story of God breaking into her life and confronting her with His presence through the wise witness of a Presbyterian minister.  I was crying by the end of the article, moved by the work God did through the Church and in this woman’s life, but what struck me the most was her description of how the pastor and his family engaged her.

All too often the stories we read about Christians highlight hypocrisy, pride, and often times oppression.  In this story, we read of a pastor who accepts into his family a woman with a very negative view (and it seems very negative experiences) of Christianity, and does not invite her to church.  In fact, this last part is one of the reasons the author claims to have felt safe with him.  Rather than asking her to come to worship with him, this pastor invited her to meals, engaged in dialogue, prayed in front of her, and was honest about his own sin.  He invested.  He invited her into his life and the life of his family.

That’s when she went to church.  That is how God chose to draw her near.  Had this pastor chosen the rout most of us do by extending an immediate invitation to corporate worship, she likely would have headed for the hills.  Instead, he took the longer more difficult road of showing her love.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we shouldn’t invite people to church, nor am I downplaying its role in extending the gospel, but I think sometimes we try to use it as the easy way out.  Let the pastor share the gospel, let him do that part…it’s too hard…it’s his job anyway…I wouldn’t know what to say.  But what speaks volumes to the lost and the left behind (which really is all of us if we’re honest) is investing in their lives, seeing past how they’ve been labeled (or how they’ve chosen to label themselves) and through to their stories, to who God has made them.  They become a person rather than a project, a soul rather than a stereotype, and you earn the right to speak into their lives.

Let me repeat: invite people to church; just don’t use it as an excuse not to lovingly extend the gospel by way of pouring into another person’s life.  God uses relationships to draw people into a relationship with Himself, and I truly believe He will bless even are most pathetic efforts. 

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2013/january-february/my-train-wreck-conversion.html

“Wait, what are we teaching our daughters…?”

  

“The fairest one of all…”

Let me start with a disclaimer; I’m not on a witch hunt and I don’t believe in burning or banning books or any other art form.

That being said, my musings as of late have been directed towards what the media and art are teaching us about our daughters, about ourselves, and about men.  Growing up I’m sure all of us read and or watched different fairy tales with a princess, a prince (or some other form of hero), an evil queen (or vizier), and a story of romance.  All of those stories had a very important element in common: the princess was beautiful.  Perfect skin (adolescence? Nailed it!) , perfect hair (humidity has no power here!), and a teensy little waste that revealed not only super genes but also super self control (or maybe just eating Paleo…I’m not really sure).  Oh!  And let’s not forget the kind of voice that would impress even Simon Caldwell (that’s the grumpy guy from American Idol, right?). 

On the flip side, the prince was much the same.  Good looking (Fabio would cower in his presence), perfect body (step aside Arnold…ok, maybe not that big), and innate fighting skills.  Also?  Pretty stinkin’ shallow if you ask me.  After all, most of the heroes in these stories are infatuated almost immediately with the heroine.  Why?  Basically because they’re hot.  Love at first sight!  Eyes meeting from across the room and, BAM!  True love!  Sound like lust to anyone else out there?

Now granted, these stories weren’t all bad.  In Snow White the worship of beauty is condemned in the evil Queen.  In Beauty and the Beast, Bell falls in love with a guy who looks like a werewolf (we’ll give her bestiality a pass since he actually was a human), showing that seeing past the exterior is important.  Jasmine falls for Aladdin even though he’s a poor thief (let’s face it, dude needed to get a job).  But ultimately, most of these people were really, really ridiculously good looking, and I think sometimes, this elevates physical appearance a bit too much in our minds.

I remember hitting puberty in Junior High and thinking that no one could ever love me because of the way I looked.  Life felt so unfair.  Why did some girls seem to coast through the awkward years while I had to look like a chubby monkey with frizzy hair and acne?  No guy would want to buy me a teddy bear like the other girls at school.  I would never get a valentine.  And why?  Because I wasn’t pretty.

Maybe I’m the only one who thought that, but I don’t believe that’s the case, not after working with Junior High girls for almost five years now.  This is an especially hard time because puberty is awkward and you’re just getting past thinking guys have coodies.  Add to that the years of hearing stories about beautiful princesses ending up with the prince and I think it makes it even harder.  Worse still, the advertisements and entertainment filling our heads are replete with women altered by computers and make up and squeezed into revealing costumes that cast them as nothing more than sexual objects to be used.

We don’t do much better for the men in our culture.  Either they are stupid and lazy (a fact the proclaim from the roof tops constantly) or they too are objects to satisfy sexual desire.  The pictures we see of them are just as provocative as the ones we see of women: cut to perfection, shining with “sweat” (body oil), and staring sensitively into the camera. 

All the while we attempt to proclaim that looks don’t matter, that judging someone on the basis of their appearance is the most vile of offenses, and that character is important.  We’re mixing our signals, screwing up our brainwaves…we’re harming ourselves. 

It’s not an easy thing to fix or to avoid; the media is everywhere and even good stories like the classic fairy tales risk filling our brains with lies, but I think if we paid a little more attention to what we were consuming we might be able to fight it better.  Don’t stop watching Cinderella; consider what underlying thought process it might create.  Don’t ban Sleeping beauty; watch it/read it/listen to it/whatever with a filter.  Talk to your kids about the story thoughtfully…talk to yourself about the story…and then consider what the bible has to say about you, what God has to say…

“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman (or man) who fears the LORD is to be praised.”  Proverbs 31:30

Making Enemies of Each Other

I have a love hate relationship with social media. It’s a great way to connect with people you aren’t physically close to, makes event planning quick and cheap, and stalking- uh, I mean, enjoying your friends pictures much easier but, like most things, it has a dark side (insert Death Star Music here). Aside from the obvious promotion of narcissism (really your whole page is kind of an alter to yourself, even if only a mini-version) it often serves as a platform for belief statements devoid of context said without enough thought or care for those viewing it.


Never was this more obvious than during the election last year. Or the Chick-fil-e uproar. Or pretty much anything involving politics ever. The problem wasn’t so much that people were exercising free speech, that’s a very good thing, the problem was the way in which it was (and almost always is) done. Blanket statements fueled by raw emotion and little explanation drew lines In the sand, dumped gasoline on flames, and created conflict that easily could have been avoided. They were the enemy, we were the heroes, their opinions were stupid if not evil, ours were logical and good…Pick a side any side, pick an issue any issue. Neither was innocent of countless logical fallacies and name calling, every side lobbed verbal bombs at the other behind the bunker of our computers (Hiding Behind the Bunker of Your Computer). Rather than having discussions based on a desire for real relational dialogue, it was war…and mostly a war against those we chose to forget were feeling, thinking human beings.

This can happen in face to face debates as easily as it can via Social Media, but I think the danger becomes more severe when you can hide behind a computer screen. It’s easier to forget that the person you are murdering with your words is one that God created in His own image (Genesis 1:27), knit together in their mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13), has written a story for. It’s easier to stick to a side than consider a relationship. It’s easier to cast the one you disagree with as the bad guy instead of a neighbor the Holy God of the Universe commands us to love (Matthew 22:36-40).

I’m guilty of this myself even though I don’t like to admit it. I blog because I love to write and having it be somewhat public keeps me disciplined but even long explanations lack the benefit of relational dialogue. Still, I hope as I write I can be sensitive to my audience, an encourager rather than one who condemns. So my encouragement today is that we would all be more careful about what we toss into the social media for everyone to see and that we would reserve certain discussions for face to face conversations with a desire to love on the other person rather than being right.

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8

Read Consider the Cross Before it's Cool

Be forewarned: shameless plug ahead. 

 

I'd planned on writing this beautiful review of Consider the Cross, making you cry with my introduction and basically making it impossible for you to do anything other that head over to Amazon and buy yourself a copy.  Unfortuneately, I've spent a great deal of time reading for my Covenant Theology class that starts up tonight and so I can no longer brain (read: communicate basically at all...my brain is currently mush).  Instead, I'm just going to provide you with a pretty picture (*points below*) and encourage you to support a wonderful writer who has decided to enter the somewhat shakey world of self publishing. 

 

The author of the blog I Still Hate Pickles (otherwise known as Kirsent Oliphant) has also written and self published one other book and a Christmas devotional that you really should check out.  Her wisdom and insight coupled with honesty and vulnerability make excellent writing and enjoyable reads.  With the way my brain is functioning today I cannot do her justice at all, so please go check out her blog and then head over to amazon.  It's only a few bucks and definitley worth the money.

 



Drinking Poison

“I will never forgive you for that, so stop asking.”

"The longer we dwell on our misfortunes the greater is their power to harm us.”  Voltaire

When I was in elementary school, I was deeply hurt by someone I trusted, and I never thought I could forgive that person.  Above my head I waved the flag of innocent “victim”, firmly believing in my right to hate the one who hurt me, to see myself as excused for evil thoughts and the like.  I held onto this for years and though I prayed about it some, I didn’t really confront it until college.  On the stairs of my dorm room I broke down, crying into the phone to my mom, feeling a hairsbreadth away from sanity.  I wondered if somehow my overactive imagination had created some awful lie, questioned my own memories, and feared that the only way to find peace in my soul would be to meet the past event head on.  This very thought was utterly terrifying, but it was the only light in a tunnel of darkness I’d gotten lost in.

Over Thanksgiving Break I wrote a letter; hands shaking, heart racing, stomach sick.  I thought I might have been going crazy, considered just forgetting the whole thing and leaving it behind, but into the mail it went, off into oblivion it seemed and all I could do was wait.  Wait and pray. 

Then the letter came.

I was almost as terrified of receiving it as being ignored, but the words on the page, confirmation of my memories, were actually freeing.  An apology followed, a humble request for forgiveness, and my heart wanted to harden. 

“…this is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for forgiveness of sins.”

I had a right to hate this person.  I had a right to let them suffer without forgiveness.  I had a right to cut him off.  But this was all just another one of the lies I’d chosen to believe; a lie that hurt me as much as it hurt the one I was choosing not to forgive; a lie that offended One Who has forgiven me more than I will ever have to forgive.  This truth, the truth that the Holy God I offended not only forgave my sin but poured His very own blood out for it softened my heart.  It was a slow process, like thick ice melting as spring comes, but this love and truth eventually gave me the strength to pour out forgiveness myself. 

It was only then that I really started to heal, really stopping feeling the effects of the wrong done to me years and years ago.  The poison of withholding forgiveness had hurt me more than the initial sin.  I had exacerbated the problem, choosing to ignore it, poisoning myself all the while thinking I was actually protecting myself.  Thankfully, God did not leave me there.  He shined a spotlight in my eyes so bright I couldn’t ignore it.  He reminded me with loving words what He did for me, what I’ve been forgiven.  It wasn’t by shaking a finger at me that God won me over; it was with open, loving arms.

The hurt isn’t gone and never will be in this life, but I can say that since God gave me the strength to forgive I have healed significantly.  Moreover, I learned that it is not my right to withhold forgiveness, that I am commanded to give it freely as I have been forgiven myself.  God does this for my own good and for His glory.  My prayer is that I will continue to remember this, and always be willing to forgive.

“Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.”  Ephesians 4:32

"Being Alone"

I believe a lie.  I believe that if I never experience romantic love, if I never get married, I will end up alone.  This, of course, is complete nonsense, but I hear the phrase “end up alone” in relation to romantic love constantly.  The very idea that one might never “find somebody to love” (a Queen reference is always appropriate) is viewed as so intolerable (by humans?  By society?  All of the above?) that the alternative is loneliness and worse still, some sort of punishment or a failure on the “old maid” or “eternal bachelor”.  I doubt anyone would accuse a sweet old lady or man who never married of such things, but the idea sort of skims beneath the surface of messages in the media, books, even art.  It’s so prevalent that it sort of sears itself into the mind, turning it into a core belief. 

I thought maybe I was the only one who believed this lie, the only one with such a screwed up view of love and life in general, but the more I browse the internet (yes, I admit again that I have a pintrest problem) the more I become aware that this is not the case.  Women joke about being alone, about feeling dorky around guys they like, about watching full seasons of their favorite show on a Friday night because they have no love lives (*cough* I’d never do that *cough*) and far too often chalk up a lack of romance to the fact that they, in some way, are not good enough.  No matter how unsound such logic is (we’re all screwed up, even the pretty people) it’s a difficult belief to shake.  And the terribly sad thing is, that such a lie elevates romantic love to being this unattainable thing we begin to worship.  It becomes an in-crowd we fear we will never enter.  It becomes an injustice we suffer at the cruel hands of fate.  A punishment we receive for doing something wrong.

This is a lie, but I think it’s a lie that tells us something about ourselves.  Romantic love is different than other kinds of love.  Within a family you love each other because you are family; you don’t chose them, but you will always love them no matter how weird they are or what stupid things they do.  Romantic love (something I can admit I don’t quite understand) is more of a choice.  No, not a choice (see?  I don’t get it.)  It’s like winning a prize, being viewed as desirable in some way whether it be character or personality or beauty or all of the above.  It’s a desire to know and be known more intimately than any other relationship you’ll ever have.  It’s an enigma to me because I’ve never experienced it.   Maybe this is a poor description of this sort of love, maybe it’s only the world’s description, or maybe…maybe it’s part of the lie.  Still, it reveals a deep desire of our hearts (or maybe just mine because I don’t know yours).  We want to be desired, to be known, to not be alone.

But romantic love will never really fulfill this desire.  We are humans and we fail each other no matter how deep our love runs.  We are selfish and sinful and rotten to the core.  Everything we do is tainted no matter how we try.  There is only one love that will ever fulfill this desire and that is the love of God.  And the thing about His love is that He knows just how rotten we are, just how wicked and screwed up and wayward and yet He died that we might be called his “bride”, that we might be in His inner circle.  No friend or family member or husband or wife will ever be able to do something like that.  More beautiful still is that this love story smashes to pieces the lie I believe.  As His daughter I am never alone.  I am indwelled by His Holy Spirit and part of His body, the Church.  So even if I never get married and never have children and end up an “old maid” (we seriously need another term for this, just sayin’), I will not be spending my life alone.  We are part of the greatest inner circle whose mission is to glorify its creator and call out to others to come in. 

My prayer is that I will start to believe this.  I know it to be true, but I need to get it in my head, bury it deep with in.  Only then will I be freed up to worry less about being accepted and more about making sure others are accepted and loved, only then will I cease to feel that twinge of bitterness when a friend gets married and truly be able to rejoice with them.  I still hope for marriage one day, but I am praying for a contented joy that fills my entire being because I know Who is with me ‘till the end of the earth.

 

 

Fellowship

My goal this year for blogging is to try and consistently post once a week.  That way I will stay disciplined about writing, but not end up overwhelmed espeically once classes start in February (almost a 1,000 pages of reading, yipe!).  However, when I saw this quote (see picture to the right), I wanted to share. 

Eating and drinking with friends is one of my favorite things to do.  A meal is just a meal when you eat alone, it becomes an experience, an adventure, a renewal of soul when it's with friends.  About once a month, give or take, I go out to eat with some girls I've known for years.  We eat and drink wine and talk and probably disturb the entire restaurant with our shenanigans and always have a good time.  Whenever I walk away, no matter how long my day, not matter how down I've been during the week, no matter how exhausted, I always find myself refreshed. 

There is something lovely about fellowship with believers.  We are all screwed up, often short tempered, foolish, irrational, impetuous, bad examples, and down right crazy, but we share the Spirit, and when we spend time together in mutual encouragement something incredible happens.  Talking about my soul being fed sounds a little new agey as I write it and maybe even a little hippy-dippy-trippy, but it's the only phrase I can think to describe it with.  God feeds my soul through fellowship with the small piece of His body He has graciously decided to share with me, and I am always so grateful when He does. 

Appreciate your time with the Body.  Always be aware of your own faults and failings when they piss you off and love them with humility.  Encourage and pray and confront one another!  Realize that God has chosen to bring His kingdom through His flawed and foolish people.  And thank Him that He's graciously decided to use you. 

Acts 2:42

They were continually devoting themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.

 

Philemon 1:6

and I pray that the fellowship of your faith may become effective through the knowledge of every good thing which is in you for Christ’s sake.

 

 

Shadows of the Divine

There are shadows of Christ in all forms of art.  Ever since I was a kid I’ve loved superheroes.  Growing up my brother and I watched the old school comic book cartoons; X-Men, Superman, Batman, you name it, we were into it.  In recent years I’ve started to notice a common trend within such fandoms: the hero, already set apart from other in his city, sacrifices himself for the sake of those who lack the ability to defend themselves, those who call him a vigilante, those who might kill him for fear of what he is.  Moreover, I realized that this trend did not exist only within the limits of comic books and their subsequent TV shows or movies, but extended into other stories like that of Sherlock Holmes, Disney movies, and even Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  What became very apparent to me was that the authors of such stories all realized one undeniable truth: that the greatest good is to die for those who cannot save themselves. 

 Yet, a few problems remain for these heroes who cast aside their lives in order to protect the fate of others, once they are dead, they are, for the most part (depending on what sort of world your story takes place in) they are done.  There is nothing more they can do, no possible way to save others from death that will inevitably take them, no real and lasting effect they can have aside from the memory they leave behind.  So while their sacrifices are beautiful and powerful, they are not truly lasting, their story in the fight ends.  I think that’s why so often, writers find a cheat within these stories: Sherlock survived the plunge, Flynn Rider is saved by Rapunzel’s tear, Buffy is resurrected by a witch.  They realize that, aside from disappointing the fans of these characters, their hero’s story can’t end.  They want to believe in one that can truly face death and come back to carry on. 

 The problem is that they focus too much on these shadows and ignore the One Who is casting it.  They miss the point of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, viewing it with suspicion and cynicism rather than recognizing his fulfillment of their deepest desires.  I don’t say this as if I, in my brilliance, discovered it on my own, I say it as one who was blind, deaf, and dumb who has been struck so that my every sense has opened up.  Death to life.  As cheesy as it might sound I’m the chief of police wanting to arrest Spiderman whose heart has been changed to understand. 

 Our hearts long for him and we fill them with empty things to try and shut them up; empty things that are good within themselves but never meant to satisfy.  The truth calls out all around us, echoing in our dull ears that can only be opened by the work of the Holy Spirit.  May He give us eyes to see, ears to hear, hearts to understand.

 

Psalm 19: 1-3

The heavens are telling of the glory of God;
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.
² Day to day pours forth speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.
³ There is no speech, nor are there words;
Their voice is not heard.

 

Restarting a Blog on January 1st is Too Main Stream...

Read: “Courtney’s been lazy about her blog”.  That’s only the partial truth, the self-deprecating side that often makes people laugh and puts them at ease; the other side of it is that I’ve been assessing my motivation in writing a blog at all.  Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about how narcissistic I can be, how we all can be, and it made me wonder if keeping a blog was just feeding this self-focus.  With things like Facebook, where we can present to the world a cleaned up picture of ourselves, it’s so easy to post something and think “dang, I’m awesome, why aren’t more people ‘liking’ and commenting on my posts?”  Add to that Pintrest with its motivational posters that tell you how awesome you are and how crappy most everyone else is (men, “stupid” people, anyone who disagrees with you) and it feels as if we are setting up monuments to ourselves, begging others to validate and worship us, and bemoaning what we perceive to be a villainous lack of “deserved” attention.

I know this is true because I do it myself.  Looking at my Facebook I’m actually bummed if it appears that no one has paid attention to what I consider to be my brilliant posts and the very thought of conflict has my stomach churning.  Moreover, when I analyze the motivation to most of my actions, whether commendable or despicable, I realize that all are muddied by some desire to bring glory to myself, to make myself comfortable, to honor me.  In this painful moment of clarity I crumble, knowing I’ll never be able to do anything with a truly pure heart, without that old man, my old sinful self, telling me about how much “x” will benefit me.  I’m reminded of Gollum in The Lord of the Rings, always debating with himself about what decision will get him what he wants, never making a decision because it is right, but because it will get him closer to the ring.  He has a moment of the dim light of hope only to fall back into slavery to the precious.  What’s the point then?  I can’t even do good without dragging sin along with me!

“For the good that I want, I do not do…Wretched man that I am!  Who will set me free from the body of this death?”

The beautiful thing is, when I find myself in this depth of despair, feeling utterly useless and contaminated, God doesn’t leave me there.  He reminds me that this is the very reason I am in need of Him, that alone I wouldn’t even notice this tainted motivation, that I would stumble on like a zombie, dead flesh animated.  But he reaches into my life and replaces my still heart with a beating one, beginning the change that will, one day in glory, make me holy.  I like to think of it this way, to imagine someone placing a live heart into the body of the walking dead because I imagine the effects of the change might be slow.  The zombie might look the same for a while, but the new heart would start to pump blood through its veins and day by day humanity would reveal itself.  Old habits would be difficult to kick, beauty difficult to see at first, but the zombie would no longer be what it was before; a dead man walking.

So I’m still a healing zombie with tainted motives and a bad case of narcissism.  I won’t be able to write or post on Facebook or do anything without the effects of sin, but God still calls me to do good, still calls me to use the talents He’s given me, and promises to sanctify me while I walk here on earth.  I’m praying that I will begin to see a change in the attitude of my heart, that I will be humbled by God’s work, and that He will use what little I have to offer to bring His kingdom here on earth, but it’s only by His power that I can do so.      

“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”

 

*Romans 7:19, 24, & 25

Bathroom Disaster!

Ooops

My Morning in Pictures!

I don't do a whole lot of pictures on my blog because I've been unable to find my camera adaptor since moving (a year ago, I know, I need to tear my apartment apart looking for it) and therefore only have my phone to capture rather fuzzy images.  But sometimes you just have to have visuals. 

The first is an image depicting one of my obsessions: journals.  I think I technically received my first one in elementary school, but did not become completely enamored until Freshman year of high school when a good friend gave me one with a note on the inside encouraging me in my life and walk with God.  That journal is still safely tucked away at my parents house, but below are my three most recent ones.  Each full to the brim, God has used writing to focus my time with him and help me see into my own motivations and thoughts much more deeply.



I <3 journals="journals" td="td">

 The second is a present from one of the girls in our graphics department.  If you know anything about me, you know that I cannot keep plants alive.  I water them and give them sunlight and they still wilt into depressing nothingness.  This morning, Crystal brought me a plant that she claims I can't kill: bamboo!  Time will tell if her assesment is true or not...

Pretty!

A Generous Serving of Humble Pie

A few months ago I got sort of a promotion at work, moving from the front desk (much rejoicing) upstairs into the Human Resources Department to become the HR Assistant.  I think my official title is something like Employee Services Admin and Staffing Admin but really all that means is that I’m the Human Resources gofer girl…which in all honesty I think is a much better title for me.  One of my main functions is dealing with Disa, an online service that helps me coordinate drug, alcohol, and background screens for our employees.  When the job was given to me it was very much like a game of pass the hot potato.  Nobody wants to deal with it because the service can often be way more trouble than it’s worth, but we have to use it as some of the big companies we work for require it.  I’m fairly certain my supervisors threw a party after getting it off their hands.

Now, generally speaking when I have a problem with their service it’s their fault.  I will put names in the system and when I go back to look at them, somehow they’ve been changed; half the time the records I know I put in correctly are completely messed up; I’ll get twenty e-mails and a phone call a day about the same problem (Office Space moment anyone?).  Needless to say, they can be a huge headache, and the running joke around the office is that if there’s a problem, you blame Disa.  Recently, however, I got a big fat serving of humble pie (read: the whole pie, tin and all).  I’d  gotten yet another e-mail from them about a missing form and I was completely and totally convinced that it was their fault.  But amidst my fuming and shaking my fist at them I realized that in this particular instance, it wasn’t their fault.  In fact, it was mine. 

There’s not a whole lot more humbling then realizing the very error you are railing against in another person was actually your error.  This happens a lot more to me than I would like to admit.  People cut me off in traffic, I complain, then I do the same thing.  I’m left out of a conversation, get irritated, then in hindsight discover I’ve done the same to someone else.  Someone is impatient with me, I grumble about it, then I lose patience with someone else.  It’s kind of like being in the middle of one big humble pie fight where I somehow imagine I’m not covered in lemon meringue and rhubarb, then look in the mirror and realize I’m the messiest one in the room.  It hurts most of the time, but it’s a very good thing.

The beauty of the Christian life is not becoming puffed up with our own self-righteousness; rather it’s realizing how weak and sinful we are.  God allows us to be humbled that we might look at others with grace.  How can we puff up in anger and refuse forgiveness for a sin committed against us when we realize we’ve done the same to another?  Most of the time it’s because of the log (or plank depending on the translation) obstructing our view.   Humbling moments begin to obliterate the obstruction, enabling us to see much more clearly.  So I’m thankful for them, as much as they hurt, and pray that I will remember the lessons learned when in the midst of a moment of self-righteous anger.  By God’s grace I will grow to understand my own weakness more and more, and be better able to praise Him for His great mercy on my life.

“Do not judge so that you will not be judged. ² For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and ^[a] by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you. ³ Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? ⁴ Or how ^[b]can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and behold, the log is in your own eye? ⁵ You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.

Egg Plant!

Tonight was a cooking night.  These such nights happen often and typically result in a huge kitchen mess...

Thankfully the only kitchen disaster of the night

....and way too much food for one person.

Tonight, I made stacked egg plant lasagna with a recipe I got from Kiki over at I Still Hate Pickles.  It's a recipe I've tried before and absolutely loved.  The sauce is good for just about anything including pizza sauce.  Careful though, it's pretty amazingly spicy!

The final product!

I also made a pizza...but don't worry, while I do eat a lot I'm not going to eat it tonight...

Three Things We Singles Need to Remember (Plus One)

Two posts ago I wrote about some statements that I've had others make in regards to singleness and how those particular statements might be taken no matter how benign the intentions are.  Most of the time these things make me laugh because of how often we all (myself included) tend to believe that we've figured life out and that a one sentence platitude will solve everyone else's problems.  Less of the time (mostly due to pride) these statements can be rather convicting.  So here are three things I think we as singles need to remember in light of the statements we often hear:

1. Statement: I found my husband when I was finally content with being alone.  What we need to ask ourselves: Are we being content in all circumstances?  In our jobs, in our singleness, in our schools and churches, in our families?  No circumstance in life will ever completely satisfy us.  We will always want something more because this life was never meant to satisfy.  God alone can fill the void; not marriage, not success, and not what we would view as the "ideal life".  (Philippians 4:12-13) ¹² I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. ¹³ I can do everything through him who gives me strength.   
2. Statement: Your standards are too high.  What we need to ask ourselves: Do we have a right view of what marriage is?  I think a lot of us (maybe it's just me) have a romanticized view of marriage in general and this messes up our attitudes towards others.  The idea of soul mates pervades our society and often leads us to impossible standards for those we might consider marrying.  I think what we need to remember is that, while attraction and compatibility are important for a life time together, love is and must be a choice.  It's too long so I won't write it out here, but a good verse to mediate and pray over to fight this attitude is the thirteenth chapter of 1 Corinthians.  
3. Statement: Nothing sanctifies you like marriage.  What we need to remember: Nothing sanctifies us like a day to day relationship with God.  His plan is perfect for us.  He will absolutely chose the best means by which to make us more like Him.  He works all things for the good of those who love Him and who He has called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).
4. Tag on Statement:  How can you be tired?  You don't have any kids!  What we need to consider:  I added this one on Facebook right after I'd finished my post and it was the one that really convicted me this week.  What I've been questioning is whether or not I am using my time wisely as a single adult.  Do I spent my time in selfish pursuits or do I seek to use the time God has blessed me with to serve His kingdom?  It's a little scary when I consider how many hours I day I might waste on vain and meaningless things, on "chasing after the wind" (Ecclesiastes 1:14).  The fact is, I need to be seeking the kingdom, being a tool God uses to help build that which moth and rust cannot destroy, but is that what I'm doing?  (Matthew 6:33)
   But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.

No matter what circumstance I am in life I need to remember that God is both good and sovereign, and that the world in which I live is only temporary.  He is redeeming it, making it new, setting things right, and I can either waste my time grumbling about my circumstances or praising Him for His blessings while seeking to serve Him out of gratitude.  I pray for the latter and hope that as I grow that God will change my attitudes to better reflect His own.

Very Superstitious?

Confession:  When I kill spiders in my house I apologize excessively, fearing some sort of grand vengeance being taken upon me by the evil, spider mafia...as if they would take such an apology.

Hi, my name is Courtney, and I have arachnophobia and a very overactive imagination.  A combination of which never goes very well.

3 Things Not to Say to Your Single Friends

I've been thinking a lot about singleness lately.  Not moping about it, just thinking.  In a lot of ways it's not a bad thing (sole possession of the remote control, right?) but in a lot of ways it can be hard.  Especially in the South where nearly all of my friends got married right out of college, at times I just feel out of place in groups of adults.  I struggle with whether or not I should have turned Mr. X down just because of various and sundry reasons, I wonder whether or not there is something wrong with me (or with everyone else because clearly it can't be the former), and I've even declared that I must have been chosen for celibacy (don't worry, Mom, those moments are typically few and far between).  It's an up and down sort of thing, but what seems to be consistent is that everyone has advice (or this great guy they want you to meet who lives in another part of the state/country/world).  The following are a few things I've heard in the last few years that now make me laugh and why you should avoid saying them to your friend who might not be so jazzed about singleness.

1. Statement: I found my husband when I was finally content with being alone.  What it sounds like they're saying: You're being punished for not being content in all circumstances and you need to be more like me.
2. Statement: Your standards are too high.  What it sounds like they're saying: Settle, you should snatch the first guy who asks you out and thank your lucky stars that he did.
3. Statement: Nothing sanctifies you like marriage.  What it sounds like they're saying: You're not getting the special brand of sanctification I'm getting and if you never get married you never will.

These sorts of comments sometimes bug me, but lately they've just been making me laugh...specifically at myself.  Most likely, the married person making the above statements is well intentioned and really just wants to help.  The problem isn't so much the pride I imagine them saying these things with but rather Who I am trusting to provide for me; whether it be a marriage or sanctification.  God has the best plan for each of His children (Romans 8:28) and that is the lens through which all of us need to look.

Still, the next time you consider one of the above statements in regards to a single friend, think about how they might hear it and consider another alternative.

Insomnia, My Old Friend

It's 37 minutes past midnight on Wednesday morning and I'm staring wide awake into the computer screen.  What are you doing?  Right now, Late Night Courtney is thinking that sleep is so overrated, but tomorrow, Early Morning Courtney is not going to be pleased.  If you know me even a little bit you are well aware that I struggle with insomnia at least every few months, and if you know me personally, you know that most of the time it's fueled by fear or anxiety.

Tonight it's anxiety...and a weird ear thing.

No seriously, there is something wrong with my ears.  Ever since I started living in Peru in 2008 and wanted to shut out the sound of roosters crowing at night (seriously, not when the sun rose, just in the middle of the night!) I've worn ear plugs to bed.  This worked great for when I moved to an apartment near a busy intersection and when my neighbors get noisy, and up until recently I haven't had any problems.  But a few weeks ago something started happening.  I got a box of new ear plugs and thought I'd hit the jack pot because of how well they worked.  They blocked out the sound better than any I'd ever used before but I could still hear my alarm in the morning (I'm a super light sleeper).

Then my ears started to ache.  Having become so used to wearing ear plugs I decided to ignore this and continue using them.  Of course, the problem did not and has not gone away.  In fact, now the insides of my ears are swelling and scabbing.  Now I have an even bigger problem...I can't sleep without wearing ear plugs but the ear plugs hurt my ears!  Lame.

But I'm pretty sure that the weird ear thing is not the root cause of my restlessness tonight, but rather a bit of anxiety.  In an effort to save a little money and get a little closer to work, I decided to find a new apartment.  The search has come up somewhat dry and in my scramble to find a better deal I didn't think to look at my lease.  Today, I was informed that I had to give my current complex not 30 days notice but 60...meaning all of my planning this afternoon was pretty much blown out of the water.  Whoops.

I'm worrying.  I'm anxious.  I know that I will be able to get things worked out tomorrow, but because I can't resolve them right this very second I am restless...as if that will add an extra day to my life...or my lease.

Funny how just a few days ago I read Luke 12:22-34.  Amazing how God provides through His word at the exact time I need it.  "For this reason I say to you, do not worry about your life, as to what you will eat; nor for your body, as to what you will put on.  For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.  Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap; they have no storeroom nor barn, and yet God feeds them; how much more valuable you are than the birds!  And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life's span?  If then you cannot do even a very little thing, why do you worry about other matters?"  (22-26)  This is just a little thing, a very little thing that God is completely sovereign over, and my worrying will not change that.

I'm always amazed at how much He uses uncomfortable and trying times to bless me the most; how during months of sleeplessness He always teaches me deep truths about Himself and draws me closer to Him.  How I can ever doubt His goodness is really rather laughable.  I praise God for my insomnia, for bizarre medical problems, and for confusing contracts, and I look forward to seeing how everything is working together for His perfect plan.