Victory!

A few days ago President Obama signed the Lord's Resistance Army Disarmament and Northern Uganda Recovery Act of 2009. This commits the United States to step in and make a change. Hopefuly we will soon see the end of Africa's longest running war: child soldiers freed, starving families fed, displaced citizens given homes and jobs and HOPE. Praise God for the possibilities! Believe the unbelievable. Every war has an end. This end is within reach.

Read more here: http://blog.invisiblechildren.com/2010/05/obama-speaks-the-president-declares-his-commitment-to-the-lra-bill/

Because Grace is Scandalous

….more Jon Acuff (www.stuffchristianslike.net)

A few weeks ago, someone emailed me a question about you.

That’s right, it was about you. Readers, folks who comment, people who peruse the halls of Stuff Christians Like. And it was nice to have a question that wasn’t about me. I get those sometimes. A person once asked me, “Do you have a theologian read what you write on your site before you post it?” I want to be honest, with over half a million words on the site, that would be one generous theologian. So I replied with, “Yes, I have a small theologian who lives in a closet under the stairs. He eats cracklin’ oat bran exclusively and reads everything I write.” OK, I didn’t respond that way. I told him I could see doing that with some Serious Wednesday posts. But that’s not the point. The point is that someone had a question about you. What was it? Here is an excerpt of what they asked:

“Have you ever noticed that frequently your comment section can go a little too far with the whole “Christians are covered by grace” thing? I’ve noticed that quite a few SCL commenters seem to see grace as a license to sin.”

Essentially the question they were asking is simple, “Do you feel like some people take grace too far?” I wrote them back and let them know I would address their really well written email on the site.

Here’s what I think:

I believe we risk a great danger when we try to say that people “go a little too far with the whole ‘Christians are covered by grace’ thing.” And the danger is simply that we downsize grace.

We establish a limit to grace and God’s love. We start to draw boundary lines on grace and it’s not the first time we’ve seen this kind of thing happen.

There was a guy in the Bible who was the worst. He was such a failure. He lied once and got an entire village murdered as a result. A priest and his family were killed because of his lies. He committed adultery. He cheated. He trusted in his own strength instead of the Lord’s. And when he did, when he failed, thousands and thousands of people died as a result. His family suffered from incest and murder and his hands were so covered with wrongfully shed blood that eventually God wouldn’t let him do something really important.

Now imagine if that person was a commenter on Stuff Christians Like. Imagine if they confessed to homicide and adultery and a laundry list of other sins. I mean there have been some crazy comments on this site, but no one has ever said, “I saw this girl online and thought she was really hot, so I slept with her, got her pregnant and then arranged on craigslist for her husband to be killed.” But this guy, the guy in the Bible, he could have left that comment. And if he did, would you or me or the writer of that email instantly think, “He didn’t take grace too far?” No, we’d be horrified. We’d be terrified.

So how is he referred to in the Bible? Here is what God says about him:

“I have found David son of Jesse a man after my own heart,”

What? Are you kidding God? David, the murderer? The adulterer? That can’t be right.

Surely David himself knows what a mess he’s made. Aren’t we all our worst critics? David knows that there is blood on his hands. How does he describe himself in Psalm 26?

“Vindicate me, O LORD, for I have led a blameless life; I have trusted in the LORD without wavering.”

No. No. No. David hasn’t led a blameless life. He hasn’t trusted in the Lord without wavering. He ran away and got people killed by trying to cover up his tracks when he was afraid. How can David say these things? How can God say these things?

Because grace is scandalous.

Grace does not make sense to our tiny human brains. We can’t control it. We can’t draw boundaries and borders on it. And when we try I think it breaks God’s heart.

I think we insult the cross when we act as if we can “out sin” it.

I think we wound our father when we think we can “out filth” his love.

I think we hurt our Christ when we believe that we have found the end of his grace.

I know, I know, I know that it is possible to mistreat the Lord. To blasphemy his name with our actions and our attitudes. David certainly did and he paid the consequences. I don’t think we get discipline or grace. I think we get both. I think discipline is a by product of grace and in my own life I have received large amounts of it.

But above that, I think God understood the grand risk when he offered us grace. A book called “True Faced” called it the New Testament Gamble. I think God knew the risk that we’d misunderstand grace and try to take advantage of it. I think he knew we’d try to find the limits of it with our sinfulness. Which is why he made it limitless, which is why he made grace infinite and never ending.

I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t know your life or the bumps or bruises. Maybe you actually have murdered more people than David. I don’t know. But I do know, as many readers pointed out on this post, we serve a God who accepts our repentance and confession. We serve a God who when offered a chance to reveal himself to Moses, chose one thing to show, the most important thing, his goodness.

We serve a God who “rises to show us compassion.”

A God who delights in you.

A God who sent his son to the cross not to show the end of his grace, but rather the beginning

Facebook Friend Suggesting Jesus

(Another post by Jon Acuff from Stuff Christians Like. He tends to inspire me. Check him out if you please. www.stuffchristianslike.net)

I will accept anyone’s friend request on facebook. I don’t discriminate. I don’t filter out weird people or hate on anyone that has a unibrow, like me. I see facebook as a cool chance to connect with readers of this site. So if you ask me to be your friend, please know I am going to accept that offer.

But I never accept friend suggestions. If you’ve never used facebook, a friend suggestion is a feature where you can send a note to someone and essentially say, “I think you should be friends with this other person.” You get the other person’s name and a little photo of them. If you choose to accept it, then you send that suggested person a friend request.

It’s meant to be a neat little way to connect people, but I’ve started to get some random suggestions. Someone will send me a suggestion like, “Tammy Smith, Red Bluff High School.” I’ll look at it, quickly realize that I don’t know Tammy Smith and think, “If I accept this friend suggestion, Tammy Smith, a high school sophomore, is going to get a random friend request from a complete stranger, that happens to be a 33-year old married man, living in the suburbs of Atlanta with his two kids, who doesn’t even use his full name on facebook and kind of has a weird smirk in his photo.” Wow, the only thing missing from my induction into the creepy hall of fame is perhaps a mustache and a scar running down my cheek from a knife fight I got into behind a dumpster at a truck stop on the New Jersey Turnpike.

That’s a completely silly thought, but while thinking about that the other day at 5:00 in the morning, I realized that I approach witnessing to people about God in a pretty similar fashion. (I know, whoa, did he just leap from the New Jersey Turnpike knife fight story to witnessing to people about the everlasting love of Jesus Christ? Yes, yes I did.)

The truth is that sometimes I drop Jesus into someone’s lap like I’m sending a random friend suggestion on facebook. I don’t really tell them much about Him. I don’t really invest in the life of the person I’m talking too. I don’t even really listen to their story. I’ve just rushed to the end of my agenda and essentially said, “Yeah, yeah, regardless of what’s going on with you and your whole situation, I’d like to send you this friend suggestion to connect with Jesus. Here you go, vaya con dios stranger.”

It’s kind of like a Jesus drive by, me just spraying folks with the name of Christ and hoping it sticks. I don’t think that’s a particularly good thing. I can’t imagine that’s what God had in mind when He gave us the great commission. So what can we do to change that? How do we not just “friend suggestion” Jesus?

I don’t know. I’m all out of silver bullets, and to be honest there are about 3700 other blogs that have better advice about sharing your faith. But I have started to do something differently in the last few months. I’ve started to ask people questions I genuinely want answers to. Instead of asking a question and then forcing the conversation back into my framework regardless of their answer, I’ve tried to just listen and let people talk and remain engaged in what they have to say. The more I’ve done that, the more I’ve been amazed at how willing people are to open up when you actually listen. And sometimes, when I feel like God is cool with it, I get to ask my favorite question of all, “Who is carrying all that with you?”

Because everyone has an “all that.” Whether you’re going through a divorce or the most wildly successful season of work in your life, everyone has an “all that” they’re carrying. (Sometimes success is the most crushing “all that” you can face because what you thought would make things perfect just isn’t and that’s pretty terrifying.) 99 out of 100 times the answer to that question is “no one.” One woman told me she didn’t want to burden her happy friends with her sadness so she keeps it hidden. One man told me he wasn’t a guy’s guy and since he didn’t understand football it was hard for him to form relationships with other guys.

Time after time, the answer to the question “Who is carrying all that with you” comes back as “no one.”

But it’s not one of those questions you can ask and then disappear as soon as you’ve friend suggested Jesus. You have to be willing to carry the “all that” with the person you’re talking with. You can’t fade into the weeds of life like dissolving into the sea of profiles of facebook. That’s why witnessing is hard. That’s why it’s easier to friend suggest Jesus to strangers than it is to introduce your friend Jesus to someone.

It’s not right, but I think that’s why it happens. And I’m tired of it happening with me.

Lessons from Jesus People

Sometimes God works in ways you never expect. Sometimes he just hits you up in the most creative ways. Last night I was invited to go out to the Cornerstone Festival grounds to hang out with a group of people who I had never met before. ...I went. The group that was staying out there was with the organization called Jesus People USA. (JPUSA) They are based out of Chicago and own and organize the festival. Pretty much, they're really cool people. And since they own the land, sometimes groups of people stay out there just to vacation and chill. So I was invited to go join them last night. It was really random and kind of awesome. And they taught me things.

I went and sat in a small trailer with a group of mud-covered, alternative looking Jesus freaks in desperate need of showers. I sheepishly looked around, feeling kind of intimidated by the overwhelming amount of gauged ears, pierced lips, and ripped clothing I was witnessing. I sat quietly and observed, soaking in the surroundings. Then my friend looked over at me, looked around, and said "They're all so happy."

WOW. They were all so happy. These smelly, dirty, nonconformists were living in JOY. They didn't care that they looked different. They didn't care that they acted different. They didn't care that that trailer was probably only made to fit half as many people as were present there. I looked around again. And I saw peace. I saw smiles. I saw people who weren't bogged down by worries and stress. I had barely talked to anyone, but I knew that these people were free. They weren't carrying burdens. They weren't self-conscious. They danced to blasting music while they poured insane amouts of waffle mix into a bowl for dinner. I didn't say anything. I just wanted to watch.

I desire what these people have. Freedom from stress and worry and burdens. They lived carefree. And I know why. They were surrendered to God. Full. Surrender. And it worked. It all made sense. Life fell into place. They were living for today and not worrying about tomorrow. Everything makes sense when you surrender. I want to live more carefree.

The Jesus People taught me much. Not by words, but just by living. What an adventure, God. Thanks for inviting me.

to be written

I would like to write something. I have a writing thirst that must be quenched. I think I would like to write about God, because I LOVE him. So much. He's so...real. I think I will explain my last post. It says "I feel written." I do. I feel written. Life is a story. And every story has an author. So I've been just sort of...breathing in my life lately, taking time to soak it all in and realize how beautiful it is and how breathtaking God's presence is. God spoke the world into existence, and he's speaking my life into existence. He is writing my story. Words. He is using words to beautifully create this life that I am living in. Look at your life. Look at your story. Doesn't it just feel.....written? Look at the birds and the trees and the sunsets. Look at your family and your friends and your relationships. Look at your job and your education and your plans. Look at the afternoon spent at the park, the snow day spent building a snowman, and the crazy passionate fire you experienced at a retreat. Look at God in YOUR life. Look at the beauty of everything unfolding. Don't you feel written too?

i feel.....written.

Isaiah 55:1

Come, everyone who is thirsty, come to the waters.

I'm messy, and even though you're different from me, I bet you're messy too.

Romans 12:12

Rejoice in hope;
be patient in affliction;
be persistent in prayer.

dirty me

release me from these chains
and all this weight that drags me down

release me from my sin
and please. destroy. myself.

like a lover in las vegas
like a drunkard at the bar

my iniquities are endless
oh God, make new my heart!

The fight against me

to forget about me

if only for a moment

to let go of myself

and each desire that comes with

this is what I thirst for

selflessness would make me pure

it is not me that i long for

my life needs to be restored

with every thought that crosses

and each word spoken by these lips

i act like i'm the hero

the one who gave a second chance

it is all filth

disgusting. trash.

these selfish thoughts consume my brain

i strive to be on top

as prideful blood pumps through my veins

oh, to forget about myself

in that sweet, glorious moment

i will let go of all my sin

and let my Yahweh cover it

Thinking you’re naked

I wish I wrote this, because it is so profoundly beautiful. But I didn’t. I just stole this from some other guy who did write it. This is from a book called Stuff Christians Like, by Jonathan Acuff. Enjoy.

“I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty awesome at applying band-aids. And make no mistake, there is an art. Because if you go too quickly and peel them the wrong way, they stick to themselves and you end up with a wadded up useless mess instead of the Little Mermaid festooned bandage your daughter so desperately wants to apply to a boo boo that may in fact be 100% fictional.

Half of the injuries I treat at the Acuff house are invisible or simply wounds of sympathy. My oldest daughter will scrape her knee and my 3-year old, realizing the band aid box is open will say, “Yo dad, I’d like to get in on that too. What do you say we put one on, I don’t know, my ankle. Yeah, my ankle, let’s pretend that’s hurt.”

But sometimes the cuts are real, like the day my 5-year old got a scrape on her face playing in the front yard. I rushed in the house and returned with a princess bandage. As I bent down to apply it to her forehead, her eyes filled up with tears and she shrunk back from me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t want to wear that band-aid.” She replied.

“Why? You have a cut, you need a band-aid.” I said.

“I’ll look silly.” She answered.

Other than her sister and her mom, there was no one else in the yard. None of her friends were over, cars were not streaming passed our house and watching us play, the world was pretty empty at that moment. But for the first time I can remember, she felt shame. She had discovered shame. Somewhere, some how, this little 5 year old had learned to be afraid of looking silly. If I was smarter, if I had been better prepared for the transition from little toddler to little girl, I might have asked her this:

“Who told you that you were silly?”

I didn’t though. That question didn’t bloom in my head until much later and I didn’t understand it until I saw God ask a similar question in Genesis 3:11. To me, this is one of the saddest and most profoundly beautiful verses in the entire Bible. Adam and Eve have fallen. The apple is a core. The snake has spoken. The dream appears crushed. As they hide from God under clothes they’ve hastily sewn together, He appears and asks them a simple question:

“Who told you that you were naked?”

There is hurt in God’s voice as He asks this question, but there is also a deep sadness, the sense of a father holding a daughter that has for the first time ever, wrapped herself in shame.

Who told you that you were not enough?

Who told you that I didn’t love you?

Who told you that there was something outside of me you needed?

Who told you that you were ugly?

Who told you that your dream was foolish?

Who told you that you would never have a child?

Who told you that you would never be a father?

Who told you that you weren’t a good mother?

Who told you that without a job you aren’t worth anything?

Who told you that you’ll never know love again?

Who told you that this was all there is?

Who told you that you were naked?

I don’t know when you discovered shame. I don’t know when you discovered that there were people that might think you are silly or dumb or not a good writer or a husband or a friend. I don’t know what lies you’ve been told by other people or maybe even by yourself.

But in response to what you are hearing from everyone else, God is still asking the question, “Who told you that you were naked?”

And He’s still asking us that question because we are not.

In Christ we are not worthless.

In Christ we are not hopeless.

In Christ we are not dumb or ugly or forgotten.

In Christ we are not naked.

Isaiah 61:10 it says:

For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness.

The world may try to tell you a thousand different things today. You might close this post and hear a million declarations of what you are or who you’ll always be, but know this.

As unbelievable as it sounds and as much as I never expected to type this sentence on this blog:

You are not naked.”

Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and they hid themselves from the LORD God among the trees of the garden. So the LORD God called out to the man and said to him, "Where are you?"

And he said, "I heard You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid."

Then He asked, "Who told you that you were naked? “

(Gen 3:8-11)

A heavy-hearted prayer

I cannot handle all of these peoples' problems.

God, relieve my burdens.

This post might be a sin.

So I don't want to boast unless I'm boasting about God, right? But I kind of really do want to boast. So I'm probably about to boast. And maybe sometime near the end I will sort of hook a little God message onto it and transform it into a God boast and you will be like, Wow! She totally just did that. And then I will be satisfied.
So I've spend like the last 3 months of my life studying for this horrid ACT test. I'm talking like every waking minute. I crammed so much useless information into my brain for that exam and I was just sure I did horrible on it.(Honestly, you probably don't care at all how I did on the ACT. And that's ok. You can stop reading now if you want. It doesn't much matter to me. I just really wanted to get this out. Because I'm super excited about it.) Now my mom told me not to set a goal, but for my goal to be "the best I could do." That sounds sweet, huh? But I went ahead and set a goal. 30. Which is a pretty high goal. I didn't expect to get it the first time. But maybe if I took it again I would reach it the 2nd or 3rd time. So my scores came in a few days ago. And guess what?? Thirty-freaking-two. Yeah! Right on, MaryBeth. Maybe homeschooling isn't so bad afterall. Maybe all of that hell-like studying was really quite worth it. Like, I don't get proud of myself very often. But I am so freaking proud of myself right now. I did that! I got a 32 on the ACT. All by myself. I did it. (Also I did better than my older sister. And not that that matters or anything, but....HA!)
And when I got to thinking about it...I figured this was part of God's perfect plan all along. And also, I didn't actually do this all by myself. There's no way I could have gotten that score if it wasn't for those 20 people who texted me the morning of my test and said they were praying for me. Thank you so much if you were on of those people. Because I know God was so with my during that test and during all of my studying. And I got this wicked score because of Him alone. It was all for His glory. Because I want to use this score to further glorify Him in my life. I think I got this score because there is no way I could afford to go to any of the schools that I am looking at without some sort of crazy scholarship. I needed this score. And I hope it is God's will that this score be used to help me get into the school that He wants for me and that I can continue on my path of life just seeking His face. Also..if this is totally not his plan, I'm pretty cool with that too. This is just my human mind trying to take a wild guess at the Creator's perfect will. I'll be interested to see how close I am.
Thus concludes my boasting about myself and my boasting about God.

I. Missed. You.

I want to start writing again. I don't really know why I stopped. But I want to start again. I miss this little blog. I miss you people. You faceless people who may or may not read my beautiful, broken thoughts. A lot is going on in my life, and I think I stopped writing because I am so busy. That's stupid. Being busy. I kind of like being busy, because I am busy with things that I love. But I kind of hate being busy, because sometimes I just want to REST. So I'm struggling to find that balance. And to find enough time for the friends that I love and my family and my Husband and school work and what have you. Maybe you could pray for me for that, dear friend? To be able to find that balance. Oh, that beautiful balance. My summer is only going to get more busy. But it is also going to get more awesome. Because it is filled with crazy hardcore Jesus things. And you know how I feel about Him. I just don't want to get overwhelmed, you know? I don't want to burn out. Meh. I miss this blog. I miss just pouring my thoughts out and typing and typing and typing until nothing else is left to be said. I miss working for hours arranging the words until they sound most lovely. I think I shall be writing more now. I hope to be, at least. Like I said, I have a lot of things to write about.