Death
I have been told by many, many people that death is all part of life. That we live and we die. Just like the grass. Just like the rest of nature. That we shouldn't really mourn death, because its all part of (as the Lion King would describe it) the circle of life. Somehow I am supposed to find it amazing that someday we all become fertilizer and thus grass becomes greener. It's all natural.
Bullshit.
I am sorry, I don't really like to swear. I do figure though, if you are going to do it, make it count.
Death is not natural. It is the most unnatural thing that I can think of. Breathing is natural. Kissing is natural. Sleeping is natural. But death? Anything but. It doesn't matter how religious or how pragmatic you are, when someone dies it just feels wrong. It feels empty. It doesn't feel at all natural.
My friend Julie passed away on Monday. I haven't actually seen her face to face in three years. Yet nothing feels right today. Nothing. Everything feels a little bit off. Nothing feels natural or normal. I miss her. I want to see her. But I can't. There is something blocking me from seeing my friend. From giving her a hug. From telling her how much her friendship, her smile and her honest and authentic way of living changed the way I see God and the purpose of my life. Not being able to tell her these things is not natural.
A lot of people have tried to tell me (Christians included) that the story of Eden is in some way an analogy. Sorry, can't buy it. Without Eden, nothing makes sense. I need to see a perfect creation. One without flaw. Without sin. And without death. I have to know that Eve and Adam ate that fruit and that result was death. I have to know that there was a curse that came with "wanting to be like God" and that with that curse came sin and that death is sin. And I need to know that the corruption of that fruit was ACTUALLY reversed at the cross of Jesus. That at the cross, death went from the end to the beginning. I need to know that death is not natural. I need to know that life is.
Julie, your death was far from natural, yet the resurrection and life that you are now living is. It is more natural that anything that I have ever experienced. I miss you. I cannot wait to see you again and to experience what you are now experiencing. Thank you Jesus, for reversing the curse and bringing things back to the natural order.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
| Your Five Factor Personality Profile |
 You have high extroversion.You are outgoing and engaging, with both strangers and friends.You truly enjoy being with people and bring energy into any situation.Enthusiastic and fun, you're the first to say "let's go!" Conscientiousness: You have low conscientiousness.Impulsive and off the wall, you don't take life too seriously.Unfortunately, you sometimes end up regretting your snap decisions.Overall, you tend to lack focus, and it's difficult for you to get important things done. Agreeableness: You have medium agreeableness.You're generally a friendly and trusting person.But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.You get along well with others, as long as they play fair. Neuroticism: You have medium neuroticism.You're generally cool and collected, but sometimes you do panic.Little worries or problems can consume you, draining your energy.Your life is pretty smooth, but there's a few emotional bumps you'd like to get rid of. Openness to experience: Your openness to new experiences is high.In life, you tend to be an early adopter of all new things and ideas.You'll try almost anything interesting, and you're constantly pushing your own limits.A great connoisseir of art and beauty, you can find the positive side of almost anything. |
The Five Factor Personality Test
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Prayer
Okay so if it isn't obvious by now that I am on a little prayer kick. Prayer is powerful, it is the only thing in the entire world that gives us permission to dream big. One of the reason that I am so into comic books is that there always seems to be insurmountable problems that somehow get beaten. I never see that in the world though. I lack hope in humanity I guess. While I believe that I may see AIDS cured in my lifetime, I completely lack the faith to think that people will ever really care about people who are not like them dying.
That is until I pray.
When I pray I am a kid again. When I pray I believe in miracles. When I pray I believe in change. When I pray I hope.
Why?
Because I have seen it work. I have seen peoples lives change. I have seen people healed. I have seen people released from oppression. And what I haven't seen I have heard about. I have heard stories of entire communities changing and being blessed by the power of God. And that just leads me back to prayer.
I work on a college campus, it is my daily life to see people excluded, mocked and wasting potential. I hear about suicides and rapes. I see people using others and themselves to feel good for a moment.
I know my own heart. I know the things that I think about. I know how mean and spiteful I can be.
But in prayer I believe that my Father can make things all better. Just like a kid again.
Tonight InterVarsity Christian Fellowship is starting a week of 24/7 prayer. It is just like it sounds, we are going to pray for one week, 24 hours a day (we will be taking shifts, someone's gotta sleep!). Our hope is simple; to meet with and to ask God for help. Help to see justice. Help to live like Jesus. Help to see a campus and community of Shalom (the Hebrew word for peace). We will be keeping an online prayer journal at www.ivpalouse.blogspot.com. Please stop in and read what God is saying and please pray for our time. I am excited to report how things go.
Okay so if it isn't obvious by now that I am on a little prayer kick. Prayer is powerful, it is the only thing in the entire world that gives us permission to dream big. One of the reason that I am so into comic books is that there always seems to be insurmountable problems that somehow get beaten. I never see that in the world though. I lack hope in humanity I guess. While I believe that I may see AIDS cured in my lifetime, I completely lack the faith to think that people will ever really care about people who are not like them dying.
That is until I pray.
When I pray I am a kid again. When I pray I believe in miracles. When I pray I believe in change. When I pray I hope.
Why?
Because I have seen it work. I have seen peoples lives change. I have seen people healed. I have seen people released from oppression. And what I haven't seen I have heard about. I have heard stories of entire communities changing and being blessed by the power of God. And that just leads me back to prayer.
I work on a college campus, it is my daily life to see people excluded, mocked and wasting potential. I hear about suicides and rapes. I see people using others and themselves to feel good for a moment.
I know my own heart. I know the things that I think about. I know how mean and spiteful I can be.
But in prayer I believe that my Father can make things all better. Just like a kid again.
Tonight InterVarsity Christian Fellowship is starting a week of 24/7 prayer. It is just like it sounds, we are going to pray for one week, 24 hours a day (we will be taking shifts, someone's gotta sleep!). Our hope is simple; to meet with and to ask God for help. Help to see justice. Help to live like Jesus. Help to see a campus and community of Shalom (the Hebrew word for peace). We will be keeping an online prayer journal at www.ivpalouse.blogspot.com. Please stop in and read what God is saying and please pray for our time. I am excited to report how things go.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Monday, February 06, 2006
Perspective
Sorry about the long time between blogs. As a general rule, if I am quiet I am either not doing well and don’t want to admit it, or life is going too well and I don’t have time to reflect upon it. In this case it has been both.
I have spent the last week trying to think like Satan, doubting if I was supposed to do campus ministry, weeping on a floor, feeling more excited than I ever have about campus ministry and contemplating the power of prayer. Confused? Welcome to my world. Humorously, I remember whispering a prayer about wanting a life worth writing about. God has a sense of humor. Look at the platypus (if you have seen Dogma you are rolling right now).
Okay, so the Satan part. At a meeting that gathered all of the InterVarsity staff from the Inland Northwest I was asked to take part in a dramatization about that little voice in our heads. I was asked to be that voice. My instructions were pretty simple, re-tell the lies I believe about myself. So with a dear friend of mine bound to a chair, blindfolded and his lips duct-taped, I proceeded to tell him that he was not cut out for campus ministry. That he wasn’t making a difference. That he wasn’t doing enough. That it was time for him to get a real job. Even while writing this I am feeling sick to my stomach.
After my friend was untied, and we all told him that he was actually a great guy, we reflected on what happened. Actually to be honest everyone else reflected, I wallowed. How could I say those things? How could I be so cruel? Then came the kicker…weren’t those things true of me? I finally choked out how I was feeling to my friends and for the first of three times, they told me that wasn’t true and that I was where I belonged. I remained unconvinced.
Later that night I spent some time talking and praying with some men from that group. Once again I was told that I belonged. Then we prayed. In prayer they again affirmed that I belonged. This was the second time that I was told that the little voice was lying. Yet still I remained unconvinced.
The next morning we all reconvened, after a good night sleep I felt better, more in control of myself. I was convinced that I was going to make it without needed a whole room of people to look after me.
And then we prayed.
The prayer sounded familiar. I was told I was called here. That I was called to staff. All things that I could control. All things that I could handle. I nodded my head, I whispered “Yes, Jesus”. Then came the word and the power. The word “peace” was uttered. Peace. Peace. Peace. It rang in my head. I felt weak. The next thing I knew I was on the ground. I was crying. Weeping actually, if that is what it is called when your chest feels like it is going to explode.
Peace.
Peace from the insecurities.
Peace from the doubts.
For the third time I was told that I belonged.
I finally was convinced.
Prayer is something I don’t understand. I can do it seemingly a hundred times without really feeling much. Don’t get me wrong, it can seem important and even true. Yet my mind will wander. At times I will even wonder if I am being listened to. Then all of a sudden I am crying on the floor. Who is this God I serve? Doesn’t he realize that He is supposed to stay on the page so that I can study Him in a rational manner? Of course He doesn’t. He is too busy living and changing me.
I have been thinking about evil a lot lately, writing about it as well. I still am woefully short on answers. I know this though, Satan wants me sitting and thinking I am worthless; Jesus wants me up and alive. Satan wants to remind me of all of my failures; Jesus wants me to get back into the game. I am sick of reflecting on all that I have done wrong. I am sick of letting my past and my fears define my future. My future belongs to the one who knocked me on my butt. I am going to jump ahead to Easter Sunday and proclaim that “Jesus is Alive”!
More shocking though… so am I.
Another Note
I received an email today from a friend who I have not heard from in over three years. She informed me that she has cancer and has been given about one year to live.
I still am struggling for words to express what I am thinking about this news.
What was even more odd was her optimism. Not optimism about a cure or a miraculous healing, her optimism about the life that she has had. Her optimism about her belief that this has brought her closer to Jesus and made her more faithful for each day that she has been given.
I will continue to pray for a miraculous healing, and continue to be amazed about the miracle of hope that has already occurred.
Sorry about the long time between blogs. As a general rule, if I am quiet I am either not doing well and don’t want to admit it, or life is going too well and I don’t have time to reflect upon it. In this case it has been both.
I have spent the last week trying to think like Satan, doubting if I was supposed to do campus ministry, weeping on a floor, feeling more excited than I ever have about campus ministry and contemplating the power of prayer. Confused? Welcome to my world. Humorously, I remember whispering a prayer about wanting a life worth writing about. God has a sense of humor. Look at the platypus (if you have seen Dogma you are rolling right now).
Okay, so the Satan part. At a meeting that gathered all of the InterVarsity staff from the Inland Northwest I was asked to take part in a dramatization about that little voice in our heads. I was asked to be that voice. My instructions were pretty simple, re-tell the lies I believe about myself. So with a dear friend of mine bound to a chair, blindfolded and his lips duct-taped, I proceeded to tell him that he was not cut out for campus ministry. That he wasn’t making a difference. That he wasn’t doing enough. That it was time for him to get a real job. Even while writing this I am feeling sick to my stomach.
After my friend was untied, and we all told him that he was actually a great guy, we reflected on what happened. Actually to be honest everyone else reflected, I wallowed. How could I say those things? How could I be so cruel? Then came the kicker…weren’t those things true of me? I finally choked out how I was feeling to my friends and for the first of three times, they told me that wasn’t true and that I was where I belonged. I remained unconvinced.
Later that night I spent some time talking and praying with some men from that group. Once again I was told that I belonged. Then we prayed. In prayer they again affirmed that I belonged. This was the second time that I was told that the little voice was lying. Yet still I remained unconvinced.
The next morning we all reconvened, after a good night sleep I felt better, more in control of myself. I was convinced that I was going to make it without needed a whole room of people to look after me.
And then we prayed.
The prayer sounded familiar. I was told I was called here. That I was called to staff. All things that I could control. All things that I could handle. I nodded my head, I whispered “Yes, Jesus”. Then came the word and the power. The word “peace” was uttered. Peace. Peace. Peace. It rang in my head. I felt weak. The next thing I knew I was on the ground. I was crying. Weeping actually, if that is what it is called when your chest feels like it is going to explode.
Peace.
Peace from the insecurities.
Peace from the doubts.
For the third time I was told that I belonged.
I finally was convinced.
Prayer is something I don’t understand. I can do it seemingly a hundred times without really feeling much. Don’t get me wrong, it can seem important and even true. Yet my mind will wander. At times I will even wonder if I am being listened to. Then all of a sudden I am crying on the floor. Who is this God I serve? Doesn’t he realize that He is supposed to stay on the page so that I can study Him in a rational manner? Of course He doesn’t. He is too busy living and changing me.
I have been thinking about evil a lot lately, writing about it as well. I still am woefully short on answers. I know this though, Satan wants me sitting and thinking I am worthless; Jesus wants me up and alive. Satan wants to remind me of all of my failures; Jesus wants me to get back into the game. I am sick of reflecting on all that I have done wrong. I am sick of letting my past and my fears define my future. My future belongs to the one who knocked me on my butt. I am going to jump ahead to Easter Sunday and proclaim that “Jesus is Alive”!
More shocking though… so am I.
Another Note
I received an email today from a friend who I have not heard from in over three years. She informed me that she has cancer and has been given about one year to live.
I still am struggling for words to express what I am thinking about this news.
What was even more odd was her optimism. Not optimism about a cure or a miraculous healing, her optimism about the life that she has had. Her optimism about her belief that this has brought her closer to Jesus and made her more faithful for each day that she has been given.
I will continue to pray for a miraculous healing, and continue to be amazed about the miracle of hope that has already occurred.
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