The Art of Celebration

People are instinctively drawn to things which we think will give us gratification in this life: money, sports, sex, music, art, food, fashion, and even religion. What we're really doing is seeking to fill the emptiness that this world leaves us with. Things which we believe will finally give us fulfillment. Normally, I'm one of those people. My particular filler as of late has been religion. While being at seminary, I've always thought that if I could just find the right theologian to read, the right church to attend, or the right kind of theology to subscribe to, then the rest would all magically fall into place.
Looking back, I can honestly say that these things have brought me nothing but disappointment and frustration. Now, don't misunderstand--I'm not saying that theology, church, and theologians are unimportant; quite the contrary. What I am saying is that instead of bringing me closer to the Father and the peace that only He can give, all I've been doing is going round in circles learning about Him instead of running toward Him. Truth be told, that will wear a man down to the breaking point. Eventually, it becomes incredibly easy to tell other people that "God is love," "God loves you," or "Christ is the Prince of Peace."

But believing it for yourself? That's more and more difficult with each passing day.

In spite of all this, in spite of all the dead ends that human pursuits can lead us to, God remains what He has said He is. What has He said? He has said that He is love. He has said that He gives us peace that the things of this world cannot give us (John 14:27). We should not be afraid, nor let our souls be troubled. As I prepare to enter some sphere of ministry, the realization dawns that I will be the one conveying these absolute truths to people who are lost, hurting, and may be hearing it for the first time. Because I've had the chance to get an education and all of these facts are bombarding my senses at every turn, does that make His truth any less relevant for me? Does my theological education somehow put me on a "less needy" track than the average person on the street?

Even though I have fallen into thinking this way, it's clearly not the case. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not what you would call a "happy" person by nature. If I had a dime for every time I heard "just be happy" or "you make happy; it's a feeling, not a fact" my school loans would all be paid in full by now. Okay, maybe not, but the fact still remains--in my human condition, joy and happiness aren't what I default to on any given day. I could seriously list all of the things in this post which burden me daily and give me a million reasons to scowl, groan, and worry. This gets incredibly tiresome, I grow ever more bitter, and I allow my circumstances to define me and my spiritual health. I see very little reason to choose happiness or joy, in spite of the fact that my Lord has paid my debt and risen from the dead.

Now, in regards to that whole "joy" thing. I just read recently that joy is a discipline. Wait--that means I am going to have to work at it if I want it in my life?! Yup. Often, when Christians resort to religious activity to fill their hearts with what only God should be filling, we are tricked into believing that we are okay with leaving it at ceremony or being on autopilot. That supplants true joy because we begin to view it as something we must do rather than something we choose to do because we want to worship the Lord. Joy being a discipline isn't some kind of Pelagian, works-based formula to somehow turn into a joyous person overnight. Joy as a discipline is realizing these truths that God has revealed to us about Himself and breathing it in and believing it daily. 

Regardless of what we may think or feel, it doesn't change the fact that the Word became flesh and bore our sins in death. After suffering that death on a cross, Christ rose three days later. Because of that, we can boldly approach the throne of grace. I, for one, am thankful that this beautiful, marvelous truth is unchanging regardless of how I feel from day to day. Even when we feel as if we have nothing left to give, even if we feel weary or worn, or if you're like me and feel as if you need to forego accepting God's truth about you for the sake of others, remember that He is unchanging in what He has done for us. Because God doesn't change, His love for us is unchanging.

This is what I think is meant by the art of celebration. When the heart or mind wanders away from what I know to be true love, He remains with arms wide open, desperate to shower us with His love and peace. This constant in the face of human instability and volatility is enough cause to celebrate on even the most seemingly mundane of days.

Joy is the discipline of taking heart in the absolute, unchanging truths that God has spoken about all of us through the ages. Celebration and joy really *is* an art form--we just have to live in it daily.

Virtual Confession Booth: James 5:16 & My Heart's Confession

Over the course of the summer, I’ve had the chance to come home and reconnect with old friends. I had the chance to have the best summer I’ve ever had at the summer camp I’ve worked at for six years. I got to see God at work in my co-workers; in the smiling faces of our campers; in the beauty of His creation; and in the capacity to love and be loved that I’ve never encountered before. I’ve also had the opportunity to come to terms with words and actions from people within my Church family (near and far) that can only be described as mean and can only be attributed to a sinful nature. 

I get it—I’m not like you. I’m not over the age of fifty. I’m not a Republican. I didn’t vote for Mitt Romney. I think legalism is a load of crap. Focus on the Family and the AFA anger me to the point of nausea. Railing against the evils of same-sex marriage and abortion while countless children starve to to death or go without a family on the Church’s watch breaks my heart. I also fully believe that a pulpit used to preach vile, deceitful, and warped politics over the redemptive, life-giving Gospel of Jesus Christ opens itself up for whatever abuse is hurled its way.

The title "Evangelical?" Don’t even get me started.

I could go on and on about what makes me different from the members of my home church. It’s now that I even catch myself and admit just how hard for me to admit that I’m actually angry and bitter. I’ve been hurt time and time again by people who are supposed to be my “church family.” When I read the words of Christ in Luke’s account of the Gospel as He rails against the hypocrisy of the Pharisees, I am (now) ashamed to say that I pull up faces in my mind of specific Christians and resolve to never be like them. That’s when it fully hits me—I’m just like them. Some of my secondary theology and practice of said theology are different, yes, but in my heart I’m just as angry about something as they are. 

As I was recently reading over some favorite blogs of mine and naively smiling about how much this or that pastor “gets it” in comparison to what I perceive as backwards, narrow-minded Christians, the anger and bitterness finally hit me. Yes, I’ve been wronged. Yes, I’ve been hurt. Yes, I have found other believers (at home, school, and abroad) who share my beliefs and give me hope; but I’m not progressing past the whiney, “I’VE BEEN WRONGED, PAY ATTENTION TO ME!” phase. Because of my own fallen nature, I’ve stayed immersed in the pain rather than letting God in so as to bring beauty from it.

Wow.

That’s something I haven’t wanted to admit (to myself or anybody else) for over a year now. As I rant and lament about how worthless community in the Church has become, I’m suddenly made aware of how much of an obstacle my own heart is to creating that community in a place that should be the easiest place to create it. For all my talk of redemptive love found in Jesus Christ’s salvation and how that love should dictate everything we say and do, I don’t show it like I should. Instead, I come up with a million reasons to hide behind the hurt and justify my opposition to community with a believer who may look at things differently from me.

All this time I’ve had this sort of moralistic, doesn’t-apply-to-me approach to James 3; that whole taming of the tongue thing. It was one of those universalist principles that would periodically nag at me when my cynicism turned into a mean-spirited vitriol. In verse 9, James says that “with the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse human beings who have been made in God’s likeness.” Um. Did I read that right? While I can go on and on about how wonderful God is, I can still turn around and curse a brother or sister made in the image of God? The sinful heart creates anger, fear, bitterness, and even hatred towards others. Because of that, I’m more of a stumbling block than I could have imagined. Ouch.

With all of that being said, I would ask that this be considered a confession of sorts. I’m not the kind of person who has ever been comfortable with sharing a lot about my life with just anybody, but this is something that affects a wide array of people. Going forward, I would wholeheartedly seek forgiveness for the hardened heart and negative attitudes I’ve had toward others. If you happen to be one of those people who falls into the categories I mentioned above—I’m truly sorry if I have ever hurt you. 

James 5:16 says that we are to confess our sins to one another so that we may be healed. Not a human made healing, but a healing of peace and love that comes entirely from God. Sin hurts. I don’t want to stay angry. I so desperately want a community of brothers and sisters who seek to live in and spread the Gospel of our wonderful Messiah to a world that is so desperately in need of it. For that to happen, though, we’ve got to start somewhere. In this case, that “we” starts with “me.”

I’m not saying anything new or earth-shattering here. What I am hoping and praying for, though, is that if someone who has been hurt like I have in the past reads this, they are able to take even the tiniest seed of hope with them. We don’t have to live in hurt. We don’t have to live in anger. We don’t have to live behind negative labels that those who are different give us. We don’t have to live behind the negative labels we give those who are different from us. I want to see a beautiful, diverse, different, broken, odd, freak-laden Church look past the hurt and pains that always divide us and show the world the same love and forgiveness that we’ve encountered with reckless abandon in Jesus Christ. 

Seek out what may be causing your heart to keep you from community. Declare it before God and others. Strip it of its power to embitter and cripple. Join in the celebration of Life. Be healed.

I Need YOUR Help!

I have borrowed this idea from a friend of mine (thanks Melissa!) and am going to utilize my blog to tell all of you about a great opportunity I have at seminary. For those of you who don't know, I am a student at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary where I am studying to get my Master of Arts in World Missions and Evangelism. I first heard the call to ministry on a short-term missions trip to the Dominican Republic in 2010, and when I returned to the DR in 2012, God placed a call to missions on my heart. Since that time, He has shown me the need for His Church--His Body--to go out into the world and spread the Gospel to a lost and hurting world.

Initially, I wasn't sure if seminary was the right path for me, but since starting at GCTS in January, the Lord has blessed me time and time again. One thing that was holding me back initially was the finances. Seminary isn't cheap, and the cost seemed daunting. I was accepted into the Partnership Program last Fall; this is a scholarship program that works a lot like the funding mechanisms for supporting missionaries. Supporting churches and individuals pay into a fund that is then utilized by the school to cover a student's tuition. That's right, a student in the Program has their tuition completely paid for through this scholarship. At this point, you may be asking "how do I factor into this?" Well, I'm glad you asked! [I know, the cheesy factor is getting pretty high here].

Ideally, the Program likes to see a student have individual donors giving $45/month throughout the entire duration of a student's time at seminary (that includes summer months), as well as a supporting church at $500/year. This monthly funding turns into $9140/semester; voila, my tuition is covered! As it currently stands, I am short about ten donors. My home church has blessed me by agreeing to sponsor me, as well as several individuals. To those who have already partnered with me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I am so blessed and thankful for your financial assistance and prayers.

Currently, I have until June 30th to get my remaining sponsors for this scholarship. If I don't have my remaining ten sponsors in place, I will most likely lose this scholarship. Would you consider partnering with me in prayer and financially for the duration of my studies at GCTS? Any donations made by individuals are completely tax deductible. If you feel the Lord leading you to partner with me in this exciting new phase of ministry, please don't hesitate and contact me ASAP. You can either private message me on Facebook or Twitter, e-mail me at djackson2[at]gordonconwell.edu (note: the [at] is actually the @ sign; just don't want spammers!), or message me and I'll get you my phone number so we can have a proper chat.

Here are some links that may help you in your decision making. Thank you for taking the time to read through this, and God Bless!

Partnership Program General Info
Sponsor Brochure (print this off and fill out, OR contact me for a brochure)
Partnership FAQ's

Counting Up the Cost--Is It Worth It?

My first semester at seminary ends Friday. Every time I say the word "Friday" it seems like a release of tension, a release of pressure; a great liberation. It isn't that it was the workload at all, but that the past three months has been a sea change in my life. I know that when I go home in a few days, I'm going to get the customary "how was school?" questions in all of their shapes, sizes, and varieties. Truth be told, this semester was hard on me in a multitude of ways. I'm at a place now where I give thanks for the trials and suffering that I endured over the past three months. Because of that, I believe something is stirring me in me to answer that initial question differently. Would I normally answer that question with placidity so that I could appease myself more than the people asking? Perhaps.

Getting back to the sea change (I really love that term--such a mental image). When asked how my semester went, I'll be striving to focus on the honesty of my initial experience at seminary. Sure, the academic aspect of school was challenging and beneficial in a million ways, but my personal life saw upheaval on an almost daily basis. I lost dear loved ones to Alzheimer's and sickness, I was separated from many people I love whilst suffering, I felt physically ill on a daily basis, and my self-confidence was nearly destroyed. I often railed against God and asked Him if all of this suffering was worth it. I demanded to know why He would take me from a spiritual place that I felt safe and secure to a place where I felt abandoned, alone, and rejected--and in that question, He showed me why. In those broken moments, God showed me who I belonged to; I haven't encountered that in years.

Safe and secure isn't always a good thing. No, I don't think that God deliberately planned all of the pain and suffering over the past three months (that's an entirely different theological discussion you do not want me to start ranting about), but in that pain He made Himself real to me in huge, loving, tangible, and awesome ways. In that complacency, I fell into the lie that I didn't need an education, I didn't need to make new friends, I didn't need to learn anymore in order to effectively minister to the lost and broken. It's in that thinking that the enemy traps us into ultimately rejecting God in pursuit of hollow religion. Christ told us that we would suffer for His sake--and he definitely meant it.

It's in that suffering that we begin to see the cost of following Him. It's in that suffering that we instinctively begin to wonder if it's worth it. 

I'm here to say that yes, it is more than worth it. Jesus has a monopoly on suffering; suffering for all of our sakes. We can easily warp our suffering into a selfish pity-party instead of rejoicing in what has been done for us. I have my days where I don't even want to rejoice in the fact that I have an eternity in glory awaiting me. It's much easier to whine, cry, and declare "poor, poor me" when it seems that nobody is listening--and I am so ashamed of that. Who am I to declare that my suffering somehow is more valid and important than the countless others who are also suffering? Christ's monopoly means that my suffering has ultimately been defeated. That means that everybody's suffering has been defeated.That's not to say that Christians won't suffer--that is to say that our pains and trials do not define us. Christ's victory does. Without suffering, the triumphant Messiah has no place in our lives. Suffering wears down the guise of "self" that tricks us into thinking that we don't need Christ's sacrifice and we end up rejecting Him.

Pain has the potential to wear down the barriers that we erect until we have no choice but to lift our hands and cry out to a Father who wants to heal us. So, as I look back over this semester and how I'll respond to that inevitable question, I'll answer honestly and with joy. I'll answer with a thankful heart that took dysmal circumstances and used them for His glory. Had it not been for the heartbreak, I wouldn't have drawn closer to Him. In the television series "The Tudors," Henry VIII's banished first wife Catherine of Aragon had some wise words to say when her life was turned upside down:

"You know what? Given the choice, I would always choose suffering. It is in that suffering that I feel God so closely." 

I'm not going to give a challenge like I always do. I'm going to beg you to not let your suffering consume you, and to realize that the cost of knowing God, whether it be full of trials and suffering or no, is so worth it.

"I think you're okay, but..."

Okay, so I'll be brutally honest here--I have a really hard time with other Christians. It is a struggle for me to often see things from another's perspective, and from that I have a difficult time with loving them. That isn't a good thing! Why, you may ask, would I be broadcasting that (especially since I'm studying to become a missionary)? In the eyes of some, I may as well put a big sign on my forehead that says "jerk." The answer is perfectly simple: because Scripture commands us to share in our struggles. This one, I feel, is especially relevant to today's world and will strike something in the hearts of more than one would think.

 Even though I grew up in the Church, I didn't actually give my life up to Christ until I was 19. Before then, I saw a lot of hypocrisy, a lot of hurt, and a lot of people who lived their lives by hatred of the "other" instead of by the love that Christ commanded us to have. After I became a Christian, I lived under the naive assumption (briefly) that because I was a Christian and was committed to loving and serving God, I wouldn't face any kinds of trials from my brothers and sisters. Oh how wrong I was. I was lied to, deceived in other ways, made to feel less-than because my views didn't "line up" with others; while working at church I never had any indication of how well or poorly I was doing my job--until it was dumped on someone else to tell me that the church didn't think it was wise for me to continue as youth director. Wow. When I was accepted into a scholarship program at my seminary, I had a member of my church tell me to look out in the crowd next time I was "up there singin'" and think about how many people were on a fixed income--as if to say "nobody wants to help you with school." When asking for support to go on mission trips to the Dominican Republic, I'm repeatedly ignored. I can't count the number of times I sat in on prayer meetings and listened to people ramble on about how Never mind the fact there are many wealthy people in my congregation. Did these people really care about me? Did they actually care about Jesus?! I asked myself that a lot. I still find myself asking that when I come home--and it finally hit me how scary a thought that is. To think that way is to pass judgment on a brother or sister (a judgment I decry all the time).

 The point of listing all of these things is NOT to throw myself a pity party. I had enough of that on my own while all of these things were actually going on. The point of listing these, along with starting off with my biggest struggle, is to highlight two things: 1) that Christ has told us if we are to love Him, we are to love His Church; and 2) even amidst these struggles and hurts, grace abounds in such a great multitude (for me, as well as for the others). During a sermon regarding the Church my pastor once said "claiming to follow Jesus but disliking His Church is like someone coming to me and saying 'I think you're great, but I can't stand your wife.'" I will remember that sermon until I die--to let our past experiences continue to color our perception of Christ's Body holds me back from engagement and fellowship with the Body. If I buy into all the emotions that past hurts give, then evil's already won.

It's so easy for us to fall into a self-centered trap and want the hurts and wrongs in our lives to be made right--and it's even more important that those who wronged us know it! Right? WRONG. Truth is, if we're holding out for that apology, then we're the ones losing out. We need to surrender to the freedom that Christ has given us through his death and resurrection and live in only that all day, every day. When I am reminded of the people who have wronged me in the Church, instead of sinking into a whiny tirade, I force myself to think of Christ as he was beaten, mocked, and tortured before his crucifixion. He died for those people just as much as He died for me--all out of love. That hits hard. Jesus Christ, Son of God, died for these awful people with just as much love for them as He has for me, a child of His?! How can that be?!

Children of God need to have a love for one another that surpasses all things--especially when they've been wronged. If we lose that ability to love, we're nothing more than a bunch of gossipping, spiteful teenagers only looking out for themselves (sorry teens). I believe there are many more people who are struggling with the same thing I am--and it's okay. If we don't admit our struggle and accept our own selfishness when dealing with hurts, we're never going to fully experience God's grace in this matter. The very fact that I'm at a seminary is evidence of God's grace working. I almost didn't come here at all because I didn't want to "be part of a wider institution that turns out horrible people." Since coming here, I've experienced a Body of Christ that has the capacity to love, accept, and challenge my faith in ways that God knew I needed.

In this day and age, as the waves crash around us and things in our world change, do we get all offended and withdraw from each other and the world? NO. We overlook the pain as Christ did and love them a full heart. If we aren't loving each other fully, how in the world do we expect to follow Jesus? Truth be told, we can't. It's in pursuing Him and His love and grace that He teaches us how to love like Him. The Church needs to start with itself, and in turn show that love to everybody (yes, I mean everybody, regardless of who they are, where they come from, who they love, or who they pray to). As Paul said, if we have not love, we have nothing. That's just as true today as it was when he wrote the letter to the Corinthians back in the first century.

Let's pursue Christ above all things, and love His Church as He loves it. I'll be thinking on that every time someone tells me by word or action that I'm not worth their time, my views are wrong, or I'm the dreaded "L" word (liberal...go figure). Whatever is thrown your way, love. Love as Christ loves you. You'll be amazed at just how far-reaching His grace is, and how much further it can go in this.

"I Need a New Song"

When we think of renewal, what comes to mind? Renewing that library card, that membership to a gym (I'm speaking hypothetically here...let's be honest here), whatever needs renewing; you get the picture. Renewal indicates that something has grown stagnant, expired, and needs updating in order to stay current and relevant. Without that renewal, we're not going to have access to those research materials or our favorite workout spot (judge me not.) in the gym.

In our relationship with God, renewal is something that we should be striving for daily. First thoughts come to mind of needing forgiveness. If our relationship is such that we are in need of forgiveness, He is quick to forgive when we seek Him; I can testify wholeheartedly to that. To the Christian who is seeking to go deeper in their relationship with the Father, that renewal is going to be something that we have to pursue on a daily--maybe even hourly--basis.

Last Sunday, as I got up in front of my home church's congregation to lead worship, I immediately started glancing out into the congregation. Usually, I'm looking to see if there is anybody new in church (for the record, that's a rarity for us). This past week, however, I found myself looking out into a sea of grey. Where I once would have been angered over that, I found my heart breaking. What is wrong with these people? I couldn't help but think it. As I started singing a favorite hymn of mine, I tried to get the congregation to join in and reflect over the words; it most definitely fell flat. I so desperately wanted these people to show some sign of being moved by the Holy Spirit. I didn't see it. Stony expressions glared back at me, almost challenging me to finish the song as fast as I could so they could go back to their static mindset.

Any time I've felt "comfortable," God has always had this great way of (sometimes literally) shaking me from that complacency. During those times--especially when I'm walking through the fire--I can't help but become down, exasperated, and ask God repeatedly why He would let me go through this. Exiting those trials, I find myself turning back and thanking Him for what He's seen me through, and what He's blessed me through in those trials. Looking back, I would rather walk through the trials over becoming complacent any day. It is in those times that we are reminded of our own frailty and failings, and God's great strength and victory in His love.

I see in my church family a lot of people who have become comfortable. I see people who would rather harden their hearts and let their church die rather than welcome in new believers, seasoned believers, or even someone who isn't like them.

Why?! "Because that's how it's always been." "I don't like it that way." "That's how it's always been." Did Christ hang on a cross and rise from the grave so that we could just stay the same? Certainly not. We cannot afford to have that happen in the Body of Christ. What my church needs is a renewal of the heart that only He can bring. As I point the finger, I immediately turn it back to myself. I ask of God what areas of my life need renewal so that I can be a better representation of Him to the world. Revival and renewal in any part of the Body won't happen until we are willing to let God transform a rebellious heart, and in turn the rebellious hearts seek Him in community.

I want to see renewal in every heart, mind, and soul of every believer. I want to see people with a passion for the Lord and what He's done for us out of love. I want to see a people not just being "good people," I want to see people transformed inside and out all for God's glory. I want my home church bursting at the seams. Do I want it that way because the finances will be better? Or because the place will look better filled? Maybe I want that so I can brag about how well my specific church is doing? NO! A thousand times no. I want to see it that way because the Gospel is proclaimed in all that my church family says and does; and as a result of that, people who are seeking to fill that void left in their lives will find the only One who can fill it. I want that of every church on this planet.

As we seek His renewing touch in our lives, He will put a new song in our mouth, a hymn of praise that rises up to a pleased, gracious, Father. The challenge isn't an "are you up to it?" We don't have a choice. We need to submit ourselves to the daily renewal that only God can bring in our lives. The bride of Christ needs to be living and breathing in Him so that He can use us to reach out into a lost, hurting, broken world. Accept that challenge today, every day, every minute of every day, every moment.

Acting as Beloveds Should: A Challenge in Times of Tragedy

I'll be blunt with this one--I'm not here to add insight into a tragedy that's already been talked about from a million points of view. What I am writing about today, however, is what I've seen and heard from people since the shooting tragedy struck the Connecticut elementary school last week.

I understand fully that people not just from America, but from the entire world, have been shocked, saddened, and hurt by the murder of twenty-eight innocent children and staff at the school. In turn, we're all grieving. Hearing of the murders, my mind instantly flashed to my young campers from the camp I work at, and then to my cousins who are all under the age of six; I literally felt sick. Even as I write this, horrific images cloud my mind and shake me to my very soul. I can't imagine what it's like for the parents and family members who will never see their cherished, loved--no, adored--little one again.

Listening to the president speak last night at the memorial service in Connecticut and quoting Scripture, however, gave me hope. It wasn't because it was our nation's leader, or even because of the tragedy, really. It was because the words President Obama quoted were the words that Jesus Christ spoke regarding children. "Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these"(Matthew 19:14). Before the nation stood a man who didn't stand as our president, but as a human with a broken heart, a grieving man, and above all a father. The fact that people from both sides of the political spectrum have even thought of making this tragedy into a political theater sickens me. In fact, it's incredibly hard not to get angry. You've either got to have a lot of guts or be incredibly stupid to drag up the likes of gun control, abortion, or anything related to the secular political discourse in the wake of this or any similar tragedy. I'm voting for the latter in this case.

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness."

Matthew 23:27-28

When did we go so far as to lose sight of Christ's words? Has our hypocrisy and adherence to a set of religious morals blinded us to the point where someone else's grieving heart is somehow less than our own, therefore annihilating our ability to grieve regardless of who it is? I'm not going to go on a humongous political rant about the theology of Presidents Obama, Bush, Clinton or whoever. But his words ring true time and time again regarding this tragedy. I don't care about his politics. I stand with him in grief as I would any other person who is affected by this. As Christians we are in NO position to drag down someone, especially in their grief. To do so is to be like the Pharisees that Jesus called white washed tombs--we look good on the outside, but on the inside we are unclean; full of hypocrisy and wickedness.

What we need now as a people (no, as a world) to do is come to the Father as He has so longingly implored us to do. I don't care whether you're pro or anti gun, I don't care whether you're pro-life or pro-choice, I don't care WHO or WHAT you are...I care that you seek and find peace in the only One who can provide it. If anything, it's times like these that almost show us who we really are. Do we let human emotions, ideologies, and a filthy thing such as politics color our view? If you do, I truly pity you. We need to be weeping and mourning with those who are doing the same because their baby won't ever come home again. We need a loud and clear reminder of what Love endured for us so that we won't ever make the error of withholding that grace from another.

I know for a fact that some people will read this, and take offense. If you are one of those people, your issue isn't with me. Clearly God is seeking to change your heart because it's gone cold. In the meantime, I challenge you to reach out to those who aren't like you and open your hearts to them, regardless of who they are or what they believe. After all, Christ died for them too, did He not? As Christians, the only difference between "us" and "them" (I cringe as I write those words even now) is that we know the Prince of Peace. Well, we all claim to. Seek His face, especially in a time like this; don't hide behind some nauseating abomination of religious tenets and political ideology. You claim to serve and love the King? Act like it in all you do--ESPECIALLY in loving any and all unconditionally. That's my challenge.

Update

This blog has been quiet for a while because of a few things. Here they are in a nutshell:

1. I write a weekly blog now for the wonderful Miss Tamber Craig (I might refer to her as TAMALAMADINGDONG, Tamm-Tamm...basically anything but her real name) over at Live Like That. You can usually catch my new blogs every Thursday for the Thursday Thinks blog entries.

2. Even amidst the lows that I was in, God is good. If you head over to Tammy's blog, you'll catch what's been going on spiritually. Oh, what the heck--check out where I'm at here.

3. I'm still working towards my Master's degree, which means I'm staying busy with course work.

I'll probably get back to updating this regularly again sometime soon. In the meantime, if I haven't convinced you yet, go check out Tammy's blog! You won't be disappointed.

"I'm just a big cloud of dunno."

So here I sit, with one week to go before I head to seminary. Wow. Where the heck did all the time go? I wish I knew. Even now, I feel like the final days here are going to fly by. I wish I was a little more excited. Well, I shouldn't say that I'm not excited. I'm excited to be moving on, away from the small town I've spent my life in. Seriously, I like it here--but it's time for a change. I've been doubting for quite some time (as evidenced by my last two posts) if seminary is the right place for me. I find myself desiring a place to call my own, somewhere that I can afford because I'm working at a job that actually requires a brain...oh dear, am I craving adulthood? That's scary.

I look back at six years ago when I tried going to school in New Hampshire, and realizing (immediately after I moved in) that something wasn't quite right. Am I missing the signals now? I don't know. Honestly, I think I'd be dreading it a lot more if that was the case. In 2006, I was NOT looking forward to college life. Now, that really doesn't bother me. I think I'm just restless, fed up with school, fed up with stagnation, and fed up with the Church. There, I said it. Don't misunderstand me; I'm certainly not fed up with God or Christ. I never could be. I'm just fed up with the people who say they love Him and follow Him, but clearly don't. I'm sick and tired of seeing what the "love" of Jesus Christ does to people. The Savior I know doesn't have conditional love, and neither should those who claim to love and follow Him. If it truly was His love, people wouldn't be hurt, people wouldn't be silenced, people wouldn't be made to feel less than, and people certainly wouldn't be shut out and turned away.

Why do I want to invest my time and energy in something that is literally poisoning itself? I don't know. I really don't know. You say 'forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do'/But truth be told, I think they do. I can't get this line out of my head. What I need is a break from religion. From religious people. From falsehood. I don't know where to begin when it comes to that, though. I'm literally inundated with Christianity everywhere I look. There's my core issue--I'm inundated with a religion and its' belief set. I don't want that. I want sustenance that comes only from Him who sustains all. So yeah, about me going to seminary, God. WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU THINKING?! You're lucky I trust you.

(I'm kidding about that, I hope You know. Well, not about trusting You. Whatever, you get it, you're God.)

I want my God, His love, to travel the world, and that's it. I don't want or need another degree. Help me out here, God. And please, make it quick I pray. I'm leaving Sunday morning.

All That's Dead Inside Will Be Reborn

I can't even write something to go alongside this. This is who I am right now. I think my Facebook statuses have been taken from this song like five times already. It's just...yeah. Listen and you'll hear exactly where I'm coming from.