I was just thinking and reflecting about what it means to really live for God while I read a brief synopsis of the life of Dietrich Boenhoeffer.
There are a lot of competing priorities when it comes to truly surrendering to God and really seeking His will for our lives--and I think there always has been. Christians are human beings who want good things for their lives: successful careers, happy marriages, healthy relationships, being able to do the things we are passionate about...but often outside of seeking God first or surrendering to what He wants and trusting Him to provide the good in his perfect timing.
I struggle with surrendering. It seems scary. There's a lie floating around that surrendering to God means that we will be completely unhappy, that we will begrudge living and rue each day that comes. I don't really know what surrendering to the will of God means right now. Part of me is sweating the trivial things like wondering if people will think I'm less "cool," will people judge me and think I'm legalistic (ironic, right?), etc. I feel like an idiot admitting that right now. Jesus died for me on the Cross and I'm worried about being cool. Hmm. Other people were/are thoroughly convinced that Jesus was/is worthy dying or being imprisoned or being tortured and maimed for. That's convicting.
I think in some ways surrendering might just mean seeking after and finding contentment in the place where I am at. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. Letting myself be. Generally accepting my circumstance: the good, the not-so good and the painful, but also actively listening to the still small voice and being obedient to step in whichever direction He leads me. More importantly, I think surrendering is simply listening to God and letting Him lead me instead of me telling Him what I am going to do with my life...
I've had to reevaluate my life and my priorities recently. I am asking for wisdom about what the next step is and I think God wants me to change my attitude about work and to view it as a place to really seek out ways to pour into people: patients and co-workers alike. I think He brought about an opportunity to travel with Coleman Associates doing their CHAMP internship program because He wants me to help my clinic in other different ways, to learn from Coleman and bring back what I've learned to my clinic to help us see more patients and continue to make a significant impact on Skid Row. I think God wants me to learn how to be faithful in going to community group and continue to seek ways to get plugged into my church.
I think I've spent so much time psyching myself out or rationalizing myself out of throwing myself into God's arms. I know and have known for awhile that I want nothing else than to be faithful to what He has called me to do and I refuse to believe that I will live disdainfully if I do. I think it will be quite the opposite because God is predictably good.
I can't settle for anything less anymore.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
18.2.12
13.2.12
I am a thinker and an externalizer. I am compelled to speak my mind and my heart's mind. I feel my emotions strongly and therefore they are ornamental on my demeanor, my sleeves and on my face. Yet, upon knowing this about myself, I feel the pull of hesitancy about being frank about what I really think or how I really feel. There are many factors that contribute to this: fear of judgment-- what would that really mean about the state of who Linell is; fear of who may actually stumble upon this very public website--I do want to protect people, even if I feel like kicking them...in places that hurt.
Anyway.
I say all of those things because I was thinking about the nature of pain. Pain is probably the realest reminder that we have about how small and human we truly are. At least, that's what pain is for me. Pain is such an abstract ideal, yet it pierces deeply. Maybe that's why we either idolize it to the point of being victimized by our vices, or we pretend like it doesn't really exist, that our nerves are enforced with steel.
Pain. We refuse to talk about it, we rationalize it, we ignore it, we engage it and grab it by the horns, we surrender to it, we hate it, we learn from it, we don't learn from it, we grow or we grow bitter about life and our circumstances because of it. It's the drive the pushes us to express ourselves. Musicians, artists and poets create from the pain of longing, or want, or confusion. Pain can be good and is often the basis of our inspiration-it's a unique consequence for living life, even more so for those who seek to live life abundantly.
I examine my pain--the sharp and the dull aches, and the heart-wrenching, the feeling like I just got the wind knocked out of me every time I remember kind of pain. I hate it. I hate hurting. I feel the nagging poking and prodding in the pit of my stomach that sometimes makes me want to hurl very heavy and fragile things out of my bedroom window. In moments of emotional and physical exhaustion it can often feel like despair and though hope is as near as a whispered prayer, it can also feel so far away.
And as much as I hate hurting, I also know that it is what keeps my hope and my faith alive. Though I hate talking about my pain, I can't help it. I know that often times the best way to move on and move forward is to bleed it out until it can no longer bleed. I know that the hurt is what throws me into the arms of God and into the love of people. Pain pushes me to seek healing, pushes me to grow. I have found that pain in my life have been the markers of transition from one season to the next. Ergo, pain is a beautiful thing.
Still, it's not easy to acknowledge the hurts. It's so difficult to accept and embrace the pain. Sometimes accepting the pain might mean there is something about myself--a harsh reality or truth, or lie that I need to face. I find that acceptance is difficult to embrace when something might make it seem like I am not good enough or worthy enough of being loved for who I am. It's hard to accept that someone can walk away from me, after giving so much of myself to them because a part of me believed that it could've been a lifelong investment. But such is life--relationships come and go and we can't marry everyone that we date. It takes courage and a degree of maturity to grow deeper into relationships--and we are all at different stages. Sometimes it takes two people simply being on the same page.
But feelings are feelings and they suck. And break-ups are a bitch, or something more ornery than one.
I hate my pain, but I also am working towards accepting it. I find that writing about it helps. I find that letting people know that I am hurting helps because inevitably I know that I am ok and that I will get better. And they affirm that for me, too. I also know that pain is a major constant in life and I don't want to be paralyzed by it. I want to be able to thrive amidst the hurting, while giving myself space to break down or let things crumble once in awhile. God promises to rebuild the things that He has broken and I hold that promise close to my heart. It's the best salve for my pain, for anyone's pain.
Anyway.
I say all of those things because I was thinking about the nature of pain. Pain is probably the realest reminder that we have about how small and human we truly are. At least, that's what pain is for me. Pain is such an abstract ideal, yet it pierces deeply. Maybe that's why we either idolize it to the point of being victimized by our vices, or we pretend like it doesn't really exist, that our nerves are enforced with steel.
Pain. We refuse to talk about it, we rationalize it, we ignore it, we engage it and grab it by the horns, we surrender to it, we hate it, we learn from it, we don't learn from it, we grow or we grow bitter about life and our circumstances because of it. It's the drive the pushes us to express ourselves. Musicians, artists and poets create from the pain of longing, or want, or confusion. Pain can be good and is often the basis of our inspiration-it's a unique consequence for living life, even more so for those who seek to live life abundantly.
I examine my pain--the sharp and the dull aches, and the heart-wrenching, the feeling like I just got the wind knocked out of me every time I remember kind of pain. I hate it. I hate hurting. I feel the nagging poking and prodding in the pit of my stomach that sometimes makes me want to hurl very heavy and fragile things out of my bedroom window. In moments of emotional and physical exhaustion it can often feel like despair and though hope is as near as a whispered prayer, it can also feel so far away.
And as much as I hate hurting, I also know that it is what keeps my hope and my faith alive. Though I hate talking about my pain, I can't help it. I know that often times the best way to move on and move forward is to bleed it out until it can no longer bleed. I know that the hurt is what throws me into the arms of God and into the love of people. Pain pushes me to seek healing, pushes me to grow. I have found that pain in my life have been the markers of transition from one season to the next. Ergo, pain is a beautiful thing.
Still, it's not easy to acknowledge the hurts. It's so difficult to accept and embrace the pain. Sometimes accepting the pain might mean there is something about myself--a harsh reality or truth, or lie that I need to face. I find that acceptance is difficult to embrace when something might make it seem like I am not good enough or worthy enough of being loved for who I am. It's hard to accept that someone can walk away from me, after giving so much of myself to them because a part of me believed that it could've been a lifelong investment. But such is life--relationships come and go and we can't marry everyone that we date. It takes courage and a degree of maturity to grow deeper into relationships--and we are all at different stages. Sometimes it takes two people simply being on the same page.
But feelings are feelings and they suck. And break-ups are a bitch, or something more ornery than one.
I hate my pain, but I also am working towards accepting it. I find that writing about it helps. I find that letting people know that I am hurting helps because inevitably I know that I am ok and that I will get better. And they affirm that for me, too. I also know that pain is a major constant in life and I don't want to be paralyzed by it. I want to be able to thrive amidst the hurting, while giving myself space to break down or let things crumble once in awhile. God promises to rebuild the things that He has broken and I hold that promise close to my heart. It's the best salve for my pain, for anyone's pain.
7.6.11
After the Fact...
I am a college graduate.
It's been a long time coming for me--maybe that's why the post-college feeling is all the more sweeter, smoother even. I feel very blessed--especially because I have a job. A job that I am ecstatic and giddy about. If you had told me a few months ago that I would have a job right out of school, I would've laughed very obnoxiously in your face. My expectations were very low, mostly because those kinds of things don't really happen to me. If you've read my blog over the last few months (or years), it's pretty evident that I have been dealing with a lot of disappointments and discouragements--from either external situations or my own internal experience. So, why would I expect anything else? This isn't meant to sound depressing or hopeless--I think my low expectations were equal parts humility and acceptance of my low estate, with maybe a mild tinge of self-pity.
Anyways, I think I really had reached a point of honest to goodness humility...and surrender. God had brought me to that place and I wasn't going to fight him anymore. Don't get me wrong--it's a good place to be, but it did take quite a bit to get me here. However, I still came up with some semblance of a plan--because I'm a woman and a woman who likes to plan things. I called it PLAN B and it entailed going to bartending school and working at a bar in downtown Fullerton and maybe nannying, too. I was even thinking about revisiting my days as a barista and planned to work at starbucks or any coffee shop that would employ a person with a Bachelor's of Science in Nursing. All I knew was I wanted to be with people and talk to people, to be in the world and not of it, to be in ministry through relationships with people who are different from me, to love them as Jesus did... to love them as Jesus as has taught me to do.
But God still blessed me with a job that I would've given my left arm for. Ok, that's a slight exaggeration. I probably wouldn't have torn out a limb to work at a clinic on Skid Row, but I remember despising the thought of working at some adult medical-surgical floor just for experience--but I was going to buck up and do it if I got hired at a hospital. However, God saw my heart and what I desired to do with my life and He is gracious enough to give me the opportunity to work with homeless people in downtown L.A... as a nurse.
Oh man, there's still so much to say. Because...God not only blessed me with a job, but also brought reconciliation in my life. He has taught me what true forgiveness is and what it means to entrust this process to Him. Things with my family had been the brunt of my spiritual and emotional distress and I didn't even think we would be whole come graduation time. But the goodness of God prevailed. I doubted His goodness and His love and may I never do it again--at least not anytime soon.
Over the years, I had become wary of saying "Glory to God," because I came from a background where those three words were dropped like it's hot. But they were empty words, without meaning, without real understanding, without real substantial and heartfelt belief.
But today, I can say it. GLORY TO GOD. Those three words hold the last 5 years of my life, the ups and the downs--mostly downs-- the trials and the heartaches, the blessings of new realizations, the struggle in wrestling with God amidst the pain and most importantly--real and honest surrender, a willingness to let go of control of my life because God has proven His sovereignty, care, love and provision.
I pray that I will carry and hold true to this very important lesson in my life as I move on to a new chapter...
25.5.11
Acceptance.
I spent Monday and part of Tuesday up in Idyllwild, CA. I had never gone on a solo retreat before--I guess I never saw the need for it. But in light of recent events and ever growing burden on my weary heart, I knew I needed to go.
It was a gorgeous house on top of the mountain, surrounded by nature and I had it all to myself. The owners, a couple who heard God call them to build this retreat center, really provided a place of safety, comfort and peace. It's a place dedicated for weary travelers to find their center once again in Jesus.
I had never been happier than when I was sitting alone in that huge house by myself. There was silence and the grandiose view of mountains and towering pine trees. I even went on a hike to a place called "Inspiration Point." And I sat there for hours just reflecting on my life, amidst nature, and connecting with God in a way that I hadn't in a long time.
It was there on the mountain top that I was able to see clearly all the burdens that I had been carrying: anger, resentment, holding on to a sense of control and not wanting to let go of it, most importantly--an unwillingness to accept my life and all the pain and hardship that I have endured and my personal struggles that I battle with on a day to day basis. I wrestled with the thought that I merely had to accept the pain, when pain is, well, so painful. What would that acceptance mean? Would that mean that I would allow myself to sit in that pain? Does that mean I can't always expect God to do something about it? Does that mean accepting that God may never do anything about it?
It was good to get away, to think, to process. But as soon as I came back down from the mountain--I saw that life didn't change. I wasn't really expecting it to. It's still hard and I still have my issues. However, it's like my pain had never been quite so blatantly exposed in front of me. The difference is, though I wrestled with it for a while last night, I woke up tired and humbled this morning. I need to accept my life and my pain. And I think I am doing that as I sit here blogging about it. I woke up this morning and called to mind truth that God is in it with me, working in me and bringing me to a place where I will see that it is worth it. I don't know when that will be but I'm not trying to put a limit on it anymore.
The paradoxical nature of acceptance is letting go of my need to get away from pain in order to bring God in. Trusting in God then means that I'm not simply sitting here, but digging deeply into the root of my pain and working through it to find healing.
With all that to say, I accept my life. I accept my humility. I accept that restoration may happen, or may it not happen the way I want it to. I accept that restoration may mean something completely unexpected. I accept the unexpected. I accept my pain and the sadness that comes with it from time to time. I accept the not-so-ideals, the unfulfilled desires, the blessings in disguises, and the waiting. I accept myself and who God has made me to be, even the parts that seem less desirable to others--especially to myself-- the parts that God is currently renewing and restoring. I accept that God is good amidst the pain, that He is present whether or not I acknowledge it.
I accept it all.
It was a gorgeous house on top of the mountain, surrounded by nature and I had it all to myself. The owners, a couple who heard God call them to build this retreat center, really provided a place of safety, comfort and peace. It's a place dedicated for weary travelers to find their center once again in Jesus.
I had never been happier than when I was sitting alone in that huge house by myself. There was silence and the grandiose view of mountains and towering pine trees. I even went on a hike to a place called "Inspiration Point." And I sat there for hours just reflecting on my life, amidst nature, and connecting with God in a way that I hadn't in a long time.
It was there on the mountain top that I was able to see clearly all the burdens that I had been carrying: anger, resentment, holding on to a sense of control and not wanting to let go of it, most importantly--an unwillingness to accept my life and all the pain and hardship that I have endured and my personal struggles that I battle with on a day to day basis. I wrestled with the thought that I merely had to accept the pain, when pain is, well, so painful. What would that acceptance mean? Would that mean that I would allow myself to sit in that pain? Does that mean I can't always expect God to do something about it? Does that mean accepting that God may never do anything about it?
It was good to get away, to think, to process. But as soon as I came back down from the mountain--I saw that life didn't change. I wasn't really expecting it to. It's still hard and I still have my issues. However, it's like my pain had never been quite so blatantly exposed in front of me. The difference is, though I wrestled with it for a while last night, I woke up tired and humbled this morning. I need to accept my life and my pain. And I think I am doing that as I sit here blogging about it. I woke up this morning and called to mind truth that God is in it with me, working in me and bringing me to a place where I will see that it is worth it. I don't know when that will be but I'm not trying to put a limit on it anymore.
The paradoxical nature of acceptance is letting go of my need to get away from pain in order to bring God in. Trusting in God then means that I'm not simply sitting here, but digging deeply into the root of my pain and working through it to find healing.
With all that to say, I accept my life. I accept my humility. I accept that restoration may happen, or may it not happen the way I want it to. I accept that restoration may mean something completely unexpected. I accept the unexpected. I accept my pain and the sadness that comes with it from time to time. I accept the not-so-ideals, the unfulfilled desires, the blessings in disguises, and the waiting. I accept myself and who God has made me to be, even the parts that seem less desirable to others--especially to myself-- the parts that God is currently renewing and restoring. I accept that God is good amidst the pain, that He is present whether or not I acknowledge it.
I accept it all.
12.4.11
It is good.
Today, I sat outside a cafe in downtown Fullerton. I sat on a paisley cushion atop a white wicker chair, taking in the eclectic outdoor patio decoration at Cafe Veronese. I lazily sipped on coffee, in between bites of a decadent chocolate cake. I let my eyes feast on the vines that grew along the fence, and I giggled softly because I loved the sight of yellow flowers speckled throughout. I listened to the fountain and let the sound of the water coax me into a more peaceful mood. The sun gleamed softly, its warm light reflected by the white tiled table top, touched my face like a gentle kiss. A gentle and cool breeze caressed my hair and the edges of my mustard yellow skirt. The sky was clear and the clouds were like cotton balls, arranged messily in groups of threes and fours.
As I sat there, I marveled at my inner peace. I felt genuinely thankful for life and that I could enjoy the little things. That things like yellow flowers, chocolate cake and 74 degree weather still makes a substantial impact on my soul.
The last 8 weeks or so have been, well--for lack of a better term--a doozy. If you had told me that by week 10, I would be so relaxed and so peaceful, that I would be stuffing my face full of cake, I probably wouldn't have believed you. I might even have told you that you were effing crazy.
I guess it just goes to show that I am still one of little faith. Well, it's a growing faith. It's still quite miniscule. But, I do see it growing stronger. Getting bigger. More bold. Less afraid. And this peace that comes with it is most definitely a gift of grace, from God, who I am convinced today loves and cares about His people. That He loves and cares about me.
It's not like I did anything extra special either. Neither has much of my external situations changed--other than the fact that I'm mostly done with school projects/presentations. There are still quite a few aspects in my life that are less than ideal.
I think I realized this last Friday, that if Jesus can calm a raging storm and churning waves, if Jesus can still the mighty ocean, then His power is sufficient to bring about peace in whatever life situation I find myself in. It's so good to see His power and His work within me. Especially because I have not held back from showing Him/telling Him about what I truly think and feel about the crap that has happened. I feel like I really, truly wrestled with all that has been going on. Being honest with myself and with other people. It certainly has not been easy.
As I sat there and ate my cake, I thanked Him for listening. I thanked Him for caring about my humanity and giving space for my emotions. I thanked Him for helping me overcome my fears and for helping me see a side of surrender that I have never seen before. I looked at where I've been and where I am now, in this place of substantial peace--I see that I have gained a better sense of what it means to trust God. It's really amazing. It's almost ineffable.
So yeah. Today is a good day. I want to enjoy it.
Lastly, I want to end with a verse that seems to make more sense to me now than it ever has before:
"For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me." [Colossians 1:29]
Toodles.
As I sat there, I marveled at my inner peace. I felt genuinely thankful for life and that I could enjoy the little things. That things like yellow flowers, chocolate cake and 74 degree weather still makes a substantial impact on my soul.
The last 8 weeks or so have been, well--for lack of a better term--a doozy. If you had told me that by week 10, I would be so relaxed and so peaceful, that I would be stuffing my face full of cake, I probably wouldn't have believed you. I might even have told you that you were effing crazy.
I guess it just goes to show that I am still one of little faith. Well, it's a growing faith. It's still quite miniscule. But, I do see it growing stronger. Getting bigger. More bold. Less afraid. And this peace that comes with it is most definitely a gift of grace, from God, who I am convinced today loves and cares about His people. That He loves and cares about me.
It's not like I did anything extra special either. Neither has much of my external situations changed--other than the fact that I'm mostly done with school projects/presentations. There are still quite a few aspects in my life that are less than ideal.
I think I realized this last Friday, that if Jesus can calm a raging storm and churning waves, if Jesus can still the mighty ocean, then His power is sufficient to bring about peace in whatever life situation I find myself in. It's so good to see His power and His work within me. Especially because I have not held back from showing Him/telling Him about what I truly think and feel about the crap that has happened. I feel like I really, truly wrestled with all that has been going on. Being honest with myself and with other people. It certainly has not been easy.
As I sat there and ate my cake, I thanked Him for listening. I thanked Him for caring about my humanity and giving space for my emotions. I thanked Him for helping me overcome my fears and for helping me see a side of surrender that I have never seen before. I looked at where I've been and where I am now, in this place of substantial peace--I see that I have gained a better sense of what it means to trust God. It's really amazing. It's almost ineffable.
So yeah. Today is a good day. I want to enjoy it.
Lastly, I want to end with a verse that seems to make more sense to me now than it ever has before:
"For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me." [Colossians 1:29]
Toodles.
12.1.11
On Sin and Digging Trenches
Since I've been on vacation and I have nothing imminent or pressing to attend to in the mornings, I find myself laying in bed, trying to unravel, or solve, life's mysteries within the first hour of my awakening.
This morning was no different.
My alarm went of at 9:00 but I was well awake before then, thinking about my life and random aspects of it. And while I was laying there thinking, the idea of sin floated through my mind. What is sin? And what ignoring sin or pretending like something isn't a sin can do for a person's soul. I pictured a determined scruffy young man, digging a trench in the country side somewhere. I don't know why he's digging this trench, but he's determined to get to something or maybe to escape from some unwelcomed unhappiness that has recently entered into his life. Somehow, in his toil and sweat, he finds satisfaction in the digging and as he gets deeper into his trench, in his mind, he's productively escaping from whatever it is that he's running from. However, as he digs deeper, he realizes that he's dug himself a hole that he can't climb out of. And he tries for sometime. But the dirt walls of this trench crumble apart as he tries to find his footing. Eventually he gives up. He sits there, at the bottom of his trench, feeling more hopeless and forgotten than he ever has before. He begins to think that death would be better than sitting alone in the darkness.
I've come to realize that living according to God's standards extends beyond the Ten Commandments (thou shalt not lie, or covet your neighbor's plasma screen, or steal it, etc). I think God gave Moses the Ten Commandments as a prototype, or model, a bullet point summary, if you will, of what God really wants out of His people--which is absolute devotion to Him. I am 99% sure that God wants me to find my happiness and joy in Him. I know that God wants me to include Him in my daily life, to be at the center of every big life changing decision, to spend most of my time thinking about Him, and to love Him more than I love anything else in this world, including my family, my significant other (if I had one), my friends and most especially, myself. And I know that He also wants me to treat other people well because He made them and thus I should respect and give worth to what He's created.
So, then, in light of all this, what is sin? The best and most sincere definition I can come up with right now is that it is an action, that begins with a thought that seeks to serve myself and causes harm to myself, my relationship with God and/or with other people. Furthermore, I think the issue of sin goes deeper, goes beyond just the act. Like the trench digger, I believe that people find themselves "in sin" when life becomes less ideal, or find that waiting on God's timing, or believing that God is good, seems pointless at a particular juncture in time. Sin begins as an impulse, when shovel first meets dirt--whether it's in rebellion or impatience, or hopelessness that leads to self-destruction.
I met a guy a couple of weeks ago at an Irish pub in Santa Barbara when I visited a friend for her birthday. He bought me a snakebite (pear cider and beer) and we proceeded to engage in a light-hearted conversation that quickly became a more deep and meaningful one. He told me that he used to recruit strippers for a local strip club, which was an interesting conversation in and of itself, but he immediately followed that by telling me that he was perpetually drunk. He asked me why I thought he was always drunk. I looked at him for a few seconds and said, "is there something about your life that you don't want to think about?" He smiled and raised his fist in air and said, "I hate my fuckin' life! It's pretty shitty. And my mind never stops thinking so I just drink till I'm happy." I told him that that made sense. People around us, raised their glasses. Of course, those who laughed and agreed with him were having a horrible week, too. One guy in particular said that his ex-girlfriend broke up with him on Christmas day and also tried to run him over with her car. He bought shots for everyone before he stumbled out of the pub to the next.
Humans, no matter how christian we are, cannot help ourselves from falling into sin, or digging our trenches. Especially, when we engage this broken world and entangle ourselves with broken people. I am not much different from those two guys I met at the bar. I get it. I know that the only thing holding me back from getting drunk off my ass is something supernatural, which is an overactive conscience, i.e. the Holy Spirit. So, that's one trench that I have yet to start digging, not to say that I haven't started several. I am an impatient, impulsive and selfish person after all. I know that sin becomes such a tantalizing option when the waiting gets too long, or when life is too overwhelming to engage or participate in, or when people are hurtful.
Sin is sin and it is the very reason why God sent Jesus Christ to die on the Cross, to pay the death penalty that sinning against God requires. And because of this great act of mercy, there is always hope for sinners like me: God's grace is the ladder that comes down into my trenches and helps me climb out of it. And His love is what welcomes me back home with a hug and warm cup of chamomille tea. Mmm.
I know that I've lived the majority of my Christian life, trying not to sin. But I've recently thrown that template for life out of the proverbial window because a human being simply cannot just NOT sin. If we could just stop, then Jesus wouldn't have had to make the ultimate sacrifice. Contrary to popular belief, becoming a Christian does not make one less human, if anything it makes one more aware of their humanity. This is not to say that Christians shouldn't try to leave our shovels in the tool shed, if you know what I mean. But that's what this whole Christianity thing is about, choosing to live for God and believe that He is good and that He loves me, instead of choosing to throw caution to the wind, to seek after things that last about as long as an impulse. It's trusting that His options are better than my options, that they promote a much more healthy outlook on life. That waking up and remembering that I have been blessed with so much is less depressing, and more productive than dwelling on how lonely I feel. That being sober is much healthier than being drunk. That waiting to have sex until I'm married will significantly decease the emotional turmoil and heartache in my life that would surely come, if I share such an intimate moment with other men. That spending time reading about Him is much more enriching for my soul than wasting the day away, intentionally avoiding it.
That life is meant to be lived intentionally seeking after and enjoying the presence of a good God, no matter our circumstance, and remembering His grace and forgiveness when we feel like our faith is small and our doubts are overpowering.
This morning was no different.
My alarm went of at 9:00 but I was well awake before then, thinking about my life and random aspects of it. And while I was laying there thinking, the idea of sin floated through my mind. What is sin? And what ignoring sin or pretending like something isn't a sin can do for a person's soul. I pictured a determined scruffy young man, digging a trench in the country side somewhere. I don't know why he's digging this trench, but he's determined to get to something or maybe to escape from some unwelcomed unhappiness that has recently entered into his life. Somehow, in his toil and sweat, he finds satisfaction in the digging and as he gets deeper into his trench, in his mind, he's productively escaping from whatever it is that he's running from. However, as he digs deeper, he realizes that he's dug himself a hole that he can't climb out of. And he tries for sometime. But the dirt walls of this trench crumble apart as he tries to find his footing. Eventually he gives up. He sits there, at the bottom of his trench, feeling more hopeless and forgotten than he ever has before. He begins to think that death would be better than sitting alone in the darkness.
I've come to realize that living according to God's standards extends beyond the Ten Commandments (thou shalt not lie, or covet your neighbor's plasma screen, or steal it, etc). I think God gave Moses the Ten Commandments as a prototype, or model, a bullet point summary, if you will, of what God really wants out of His people--which is absolute devotion to Him. I am 99% sure that God wants me to find my happiness and joy in Him. I know that God wants me to include Him in my daily life, to be at the center of every big life changing decision, to spend most of my time thinking about Him, and to love Him more than I love anything else in this world, including my family, my significant other (if I had one), my friends and most especially, myself. And I know that He also wants me to treat other people well because He made them and thus I should respect and give worth to what He's created.
So, then, in light of all this, what is sin? The best and most sincere definition I can come up with right now is that it is an action, that begins with a thought that seeks to serve myself and causes harm to myself, my relationship with God and/or with other people. Furthermore, I think the issue of sin goes deeper, goes beyond just the act. Like the trench digger, I believe that people find themselves "in sin" when life becomes less ideal, or find that waiting on God's timing, or believing that God is good, seems pointless at a particular juncture in time. Sin begins as an impulse, when shovel first meets dirt--whether it's in rebellion or impatience, or hopelessness that leads to self-destruction.
I met a guy a couple of weeks ago at an Irish pub in Santa Barbara when I visited a friend for her birthday. He bought me a snakebite (pear cider and beer) and we proceeded to engage in a light-hearted conversation that quickly became a more deep and meaningful one. He told me that he used to recruit strippers for a local strip club, which was an interesting conversation in and of itself, but he immediately followed that by telling me that he was perpetually drunk. He asked me why I thought he was always drunk. I looked at him for a few seconds and said, "is there something about your life that you don't want to think about?" He smiled and raised his fist in air and said, "I hate my fuckin' life! It's pretty shitty. And my mind never stops thinking so I just drink till I'm happy." I told him that that made sense. People around us, raised their glasses. Of course, those who laughed and agreed with him were having a horrible week, too. One guy in particular said that his ex-girlfriend broke up with him on Christmas day and also tried to run him over with her car. He bought shots for everyone before he stumbled out of the pub to the next.
Humans, no matter how christian we are, cannot help ourselves from falling into sin, or digging our trenches. Especially, when we engage this broken world and entangle ourselves with broken people. I am not much different from those two guys I met at the bar. I get it. I know that the only thing holding me back from getting drunk off my ass is something supernatural, which is an overactive conscience, i.e. the Holy Spirit. So, that's one trench that I have yet to start digging, not to say that I haven't started several. I am an impatient, impulsive and selfish person after all. I know that sin becomes such a tantalizing option when the waiting gets too long, or when life is too overwhelming to engage or participate in, or when people are hurtful.
Sin is sin and it is the very reason why God sent Jesus Christ to die on the Cross, to pay the death penalty that sinning against God requires. And because of this great act of mercy, there is always hope for sinners like me: God's grace is the ladder that comes down into my trenches and helps me climb out of it. And His love is what welcomes me back home with a hug and warm cup of chamomille tea. Mmm.
I know that I've lived the majority of my Christian life, trying not to sin. But I've recently thrown that template for life out of the proverbial window because a human being simply cannot just NOT sin. If we could just stop, then Jesus wouldn't have had to make the ultimate sacrifice. Contrary to popular belief, becoming a Christian does not make one less human, if anything it makes one more aware of their humanity. This is not to say that Christians shouldn't try to leave our shovels in the tool shed, if you know what I mean. But that's what this whole Christianity thing is about, choosing to live for God and believe that He is good and that He loves me, instead of choosing to throw caution to the wind, to seek after things that last about as long as an impulse. It's trusting that His options are better than my options, that they promote a much more healthy outlook on life. That waking up and remembering that I have been blessed with so much is less depressing, and more productive than dwelling on how lonely I feel. That being sober is much healthier than being drunk. That waiting to have sex until I'm married will significantly decease the emotional turmoil and heartache in my life that would surely come, if I share such an intimate moment with other men. That spending time reading about Him is much more enriching for my soul than wasting the day away, intentionally avoiding it.
That life is meant to be lived intentionally seeking after and enjoying the presence of a good God, no matter our circumstance, and remembering His grace and forgiveness when we feel like our faith is small and our doubts are overpowering.
26.12.10
My sentiments, exactly.
I think I purposely didn't blog about Christmas yesterday just to fight my tendency to follow the social Christian norms, which involves writing all these spiritual things on and about December 25th. Plus, I wanted to go deeper about the meaning of Christmas, not just say what I would normally say...just to say it. So I really, really thought about it--gave myself a time out, in the privacy of my own room. As I really tried to think about the realities of what happened the night that Jesus was born, I found myself deeply moved by the fact that Jesus, the Word of God, the Person through whom all things were made and formed, came to earth as baby. Being a nurse, I know exactly what that entails. The birthing process is not all that magical. It's gross. Not to mention, the fact that Mary gave birth in a stable of all places. Talk about unsanitary.
I ask the question: why would God choose to do this? Christ, the Savior of mankind, came to earth in such a humble way, when we all know that He is above this. Most of us came into the world in better conditions than Jesus did. And most of our parents weren't involved in a situation that was nothing short of a scandal (unwed, betrothed, virgin girl pregnant by the...holy spirit??? what the what?!).
Jesus came into this broken world, through a less than ideal situation. The King of Kings and LORD of Lords, was a carpenter's son, impoverished and on the bottom of the social totem pole.
So, what?
I think I spent the last ten years of my life just focusing on my moral bankruptcies as a sinner during Christmas and my depravity which "caused" Jesus to come in this way. This did nothing for me in terms of really appreciating the significance of the occasion. I've come to realize that thinking in this way leads Christians to view God as someone who "had no other choice." That doesn't sound like a very loving God, or a God who actually cares about His creation. I think God actually wanted to give humanity a fighting chance.
I think God wants Christians to view Christ's birth in heartfelt awe and admiration, which is hard to do when we're trying to so hard to wrestle up some sort of emotion about Christmas, but all we seem to come up with is (a) nothing significant or (b) residual guilt from focusing too much on how sinful we are & yadda yadda.
Of course, recognizing our sin and the fact that we are broken, sinful people is important. True repentance is not possible without admitting to God, and also importantly, to ourselves, our own brokenness, shortcomings and failures. How can we truly be moved to follow Jesus, if we don't have a truly moving reason to do so?
But to focus also on God's plan to bring Jesus into the world as He did, not just our sinfulness, is deeply moving because it demonstrates God's love and His tenderness towards us and our human condition.
It's so subtle, yet so grand. The birth of Jesus, His humble beginnings and His compassion towards the broken, the poor in spirit, the marginalized and the hurting was all part of God's plan to save us. Not only from Hell, but from the "hell" that we experience here on Earth. Jesus came the way that He did so that He can connect to us in our brokenness and we can find hope in Him when life, or our shit, threatens to overpower us. What makes this so significant is that Jesus has been there. He himself knows brokenness. He is also called the "man of many sorrows." I think this is why He connected with those who were hurting, not just physically, but socially and emotionally.
Christ's birth and His life & ministry is also particularly significant when one reflects on all the rules and particularities of being holy and following the laws in the Old Testament. Praise God that we don't have to focus on rituals! It is this freedom in Christ that should bring us to worship Him and to live our lives for Him. In this way, we are inherently motivated by love and awe, instead of just fear.
There is true and real comfort in thinking about the realities of how Jesus came to earth and how He lived His life. If anything, it should be what truly motivate us to worship and adore Him.
I ask the question: why would God choose to do this? Christ, the Savior of mankind, came to earth in such a humble way, when we all know that He is above this. Most of us came into the world in better conditions than Jesus did. And most of our parents weren't involved in a situation that was nothing short of a scandal (unwed, betrothed, virgin girl pregnant by the...holy spirit??? what the what?!).
Jesus came into this broken world, through a less than ideal situation. The King of Kings and LORD of Lords, was a carpenter's son, impoverished and on the bottom of the social totem pole.
So, what?
I think I spent the last ten years of my life just focusing on my moral bankruptcies as a sinner during Christmas and my depravity which "caused" Jesus to come in this way. This did nothing for me in terms of really appreciating the significance of the occasion. I've come to realize that thinking in this way leads Christians to view God as someone who "had no other choice." That doesn't sound like a very loving God, or a God who actually cares about His creation. I think God actually wanted to give humanity a fighting chance.
I think God wants Christians to view Christ's birth in heartfelt awe and admiration, which is hard to do when we're trying to so hard to wrestle up some sort of emotion about Christmas, but all we seem to come up with is (a) nothing significant or (b) residual guilt from focusing too much on how sinful we are & yadda yadda.
Of course, recognizing our sin and the fact that we are broken, sinful people is important. True repentance is not possible without admitting to God, and also importantly, to ourselves, our own brokenness, shortcomings and failures. How can we truly be moved to follow Jesus, if we don't have a truly moving reason to do so?
But to focus also on God's plan to bring Jesus into the world as He did, not just our sinfulness, is deeply moving because it demonstrates God's love and His tenderness towards us and our human condition.
It's so subtle, yet so grand. The birth of Jesus, His humble beginnings and His compassion towards the broken, the poor in spirit, the marginalized and the hurting was all part of God's plan to save us. Not only from Hell, but from the "hell" that we experience here on Earth. Jesus came the way that He did so that He can connect to us in our brokenness and we can find hope in Him when life, or our shit, threatens to overpower us. What makes this so significant is that Jesus has been there. He himself knows brokenness. He is also called the "man of many sorrows." I think this is why He connected with those who were hurting, not just physically, but socially and emotionally.
Christ's birth and His life & ministry is also particularly significant when one reflects on all the rules and particularities of being holy and following the laws in the Old Testament. Praise God that we don't have to focus on rituals! It is this freedom in Christ that should bring us to worship Him and to live our lives for Him. In this way, we are inherently motivated by love and awe, instead of just fear.
There is true and real comfort in thinking about the realities of how Jesus came to earth and how He lived His life. If anything, it should be what truly motivate us to worship and adore Him.
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