"I think it's about forgiveness..."

I was talking with a few women yesterday about the topic of "forgiveness."  These women have walked through some very difficult times.  They have been betrayed and hurt by those they were closest to.  They have made choices themselves that are hard to move on from.  And in reality, we all have.  We've been the recipients of other's pain and insecurities.  We've been lashed out at, neglected, and sometimes even abused.  Forgiveness is often the most difficult thing to grasp in those situations. And even once we grasp it, it so easily slips away when we are reminded of the pain once again.

In Matthew 18:21 Peter asks Jesus how often he is to forgive his brother when he sins against him,
"up to seven times?"  (I'm sure Peter was feeling a bit generous with his offer.)  Jesus responds, "I tell you, not seven times but seventy-seven times."

I can only imagine that Peter and the other disciples are a bit taken aback.  Jesus, as usual, turned their thought process upside down.  Seven times seemed like the good and proper thing to do. Seventy seven times seems just a bit absurd.

This passage came to mind yesterday as we were hashing out what forgiveness looks like.  Just as much as I am called (actually, commanded) to forgive my brother or sister when they do multiple wrongs against me, I am also called to forgive them multiple times for the single wrong they have committed.  See, forgiveness is a fickle thing that requires a bit of long-term attention.  Even though I forgave that person in the past, the forgiveness doesn't alway stick.  There's a trigger, an incident, or simply a memory that brings that hurt to the surface.  Forgiveness somehow made an exit, even though I could've sworn I had already been there, done that.  So, I forgive them again, and again and again, sometimes what feels like seventy seven times, until one day they (and myself) are completely set free from that old wound.

So, Jesus basically denies the option to take the easy road out.  I can no longer speak words of forgiveness with my mouth while harboring old wounds in my heart and expect to check this command off my list.  Forgiveness is a continual choice, oftentimes, over and over and over again.

Yet, there's a promise to all of this.  Forgiveness IS possible.  There is hope that the pain of the past will no longer have a hold on our present.  Christ gave us this command because He has gone before us and lived this out.  He has forgiven us for the multitude of sins we have committed against him, including that one sin that keeps coming up multiple times.  And only through this forgiveness we have received in Him,  do we find a source of forgiveness to extend to others.

So, we are not alone. He has gone before us. And He is with us now, bringing us to the point of forgiveness, for ourselves and others, day in, day out, even more than seventy seven times...however long it takes.

As Don Henley would say, I think the heart of the matter (and rather, the matter of our hearts) is about forgiveness. 


"I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about forgiveness..." 

passion post-passion

my small group is going through a study called "Restless" by Jennie Allen.  the timing in my life couldn't be better.  working 3 jobs and attempting to get settled into a new life leaves me feeling a bit crazy sometimes.  often I feel that my gifts and skills aren't being fully utilized, yet I am grateful for so many new experiences that are shaping me in different ways than before.  so, on one hand I'm thankful and on the other hand, well, I'm restless...

this week's study was about "passion."  it's super interesting b/c we're just coming off of "Passion Week." we often think that the general term "passion" has nothing to do with the "Jesus--passion play--crucifixion" kind of passion.  oh, but it does. :)  the word originates from a Latin word meaning "to suffer."  so, the passion of Christ led him to suffering and death, yet fulfilled such a larger purpose (even larger than we can possibly hope to grasp this side of heaven).  in that case, passion and suffering go hand in hand.  suffering and the fulfillment of purpose are intertwined with one another.  yet, we so often we only think of passion in the fun, pleasurable sense.  passions are there to serve ME, right?  wrong.  

for me, this means that even though my passions may be less than fulfilled right now, that there's still a lot of good work to be done.  my purpose is fulfilled in the day to day and even the mundane at times.  I fulfill that passion when I identify the needs of those around me and seek to use whatever resources I have to help.  it's found in seeing joy in the midst of whatever life throws at me and setting my hands to serve. 

I ran across this old blog post from January 2010.  it so well summarizes the passions that were being fulfilled at the time by encountering suffering and needs.  it's also a huge inspiration to continue to dig deep with others and find ways to serve those around me, whoever they may be.    

"trimming the kudzu" 

so, for those of you who don't know, i work at a non-profit crisis pregnancy center. we see many clients who are facing a crisis or unplanned pregnancy. through my work here, i have come face to face with the HUGE need for the issue of female sexuality to be addressed in our culture. 

it takes the shape of a 19 year old girl who came to me for STD information. she had felt out of place in her friend group b/c she was the only one who had not had sex. now, she has contracted a STD. 

it takes the form of the 17 year old girl who professed to a relationship with God, but realized she had searched for love by giving herself sexually to several guys. 

it's the girl who has already had 2 abortions by age 16 and is facing yet another pregnancy. yet, she has no job, no life skills, and no steady boyfriend to support her. 

these are just a few of the real-life stories that i have come across in the past few months, and this only scratches the surface. women all over america are faced with issues of sexuality from as young as elementary school. what can be done to help address this issue? 

recently, i re-read "reviving ophelia" by mary pipher. it's a book that discusses the influences on adolescent females and the changes that take place as they leave childhood behind. although, it's a little outdated (written in the 90's), i couldn't help but come to recognize some of the greater issues plaguing our women today--the loss of "true self" in an effort to fit in, the issues of sexuality, the role that culture and the media play, the influences of peer group...and the list goes on. when i look at our work at the pregnancy center i can only believe that we are merely conducting damage control. although we are able to help a client through a crisis situation, we aren't equipping them to combat all of these influences. we are merely "triage." and although this is the role we are called to play, i can't help but wonder if there's something that can be done to address some of the larger causes. 

i feel like we're merely cutting the leaves off of a kudzu of culture in our attempt to keep the parasitic plant from spreading. 

yet, when i become overwhelmed at all of the horrible messages that are being sent to women today...when i can't seem to figure out a way to even begin addressing all of the issues, i am reminded of the power of prayer. in my 45 minutes spent with a client, i can only hope to share some truth and empower her to make better choices, yet God is able to do take my efforts and multiply them. He is bigger than all of the issues. His power is greater than the influences. And He is not bound by culture's restrictions. the only way the kudzu will be tamed is through His strength--God's holy fire clearing the path. He has called you and me to be a part of that process--to speak truth into a broken world, to bind the wounds of the damaged, and to be the "triage" and hands of healing as long as we are able. 

when i am consumed by contempt for our loss of values or overwhelmed by the excessive grasp of our culture, i am reminded of His power...and I am grateful that i serve a God that is "able to do exceedingly, abundantly more than i can ever ask or imagine."

spin cycle

Routine. Order. Consistency.

These are things I crave, yet can only taunt me with a small semblance of their presence in my life.

Transition.  Change.  Newness.

These are things that I have more than enough of right now.

I wish there was more of a balance, that things would slow down and start normalizing.  But before we know it, the holidays will be here with their own set of expectations.  A new year will start with even more change.  And my longings will only partially be fulfilled.

In the end, I know this is a good thing, this spin cycle of transition.  I'll recirculate and come out on the end a new (hopefully more mature) person.  But I can't help but dig my heels in at times.  I find myself fighting the pull to curl up and let it pass.  It's too difficult to "get out there," too challenging to fight the pull towards equilibrium.  Yet, I know that I need to push through. There are goodness and lessons to be found in the chaos.

I find myself being inspired by stories lately of those who have persevered--the immigrant who works 40 hours a week then puts themselves through college at night, the single mom juggling 3 children and a career, the youth who has surpassed countless odds to make a name for themselves.  Perhaps I'm in awe of their tenacity, the sheer resilience they exhibit. Perhaps I wonder about my own ability to dig deep and bounce back if I were in their shoes.  Even so, their lives serve as an encouragement, a picture of what happens when you keep on trying.

So, today I find myself setting my alarm early, even if I don't have an appointment to get up for.  I search the internet for jobs.  I volunteer to help out with a ministry at church.  I ask people to get together to share a meal.  And I write this blog. I remind myself of the blessings in my life and the new position God has placed me in.  This season is different...it doesn't mean that it's bad.  It just means I'll be uncomfortable (and at times irritable), but it's during these times that God's work is most richly done.  I am forced to rely on Him--not my job, not my security, not even my "orderly" environment.  He wants more of me, and He's cultivating something unseen in my life.  What will it be? I'm not sure.  In the meantime, may I trust Him and be open to what is in store (and perhaps work on being a little less irritable). :)

black snow

as a transplant from Tennessee, I have learned a few things about Chicago weather over the past 4 years.  one is that winters are LONG and HARD.  the snow, the wind, and the freezing temps will tend to linger on through March and even April at times.  once you feel like it's over, there's another cold front that comes your way and snaps you back to reality.

yesterday was one of those days--sunny and 55 degrees.  everyone rejoiced.  people rode in their cars with their windows down (me).  runners hit the pavement.  men everywhere fired up their grills.  any excuse to go outside was taken advantage of and  I was no exception.  so, as soon as I got home, I threw on my running gear and headed out the door.

one thing to note is that as I mentioned before, the winters are HARD.  this winter was exceptionally so.  (by the records it was the hardest in like 20 years or something--not just by own personal experience, which will also testify to that.)  that means there was lots of snow.  so much so, that as it gets plowed from the streets and parking lots, there are huge mounds that are formed on the sides of the streets.  despite having temps above freezing for a few days, there were still some remnants of the snow mounds that remained at the bottom.  as I was running and dodging lots of puddles of water from this melting snow, I had quite the obvious observation.

the snow that's left is dirty.
black.
grimy.
and horribly unpleasant to look at.

unlike any form of snow that falls from the sky, this snow has sat there for MONTHS and turned a shade of brown that it never should have.  it has absorbed every ounce of exhaust from the cars that have driven past.  it has picked up the dirt and grime off the street as it was slung onto it from day to day.  it has soaked in the toxins from the environment around it.

this snow is an eye sore and it needs to go away.

but wait.  isn't snow white and fluffy and the thing of "winter wonderlands?" isn't it pure and spotless?  isn't it even represented in Scripture as something that cleanses us?

yes.  it's true.  in its natural state.

snow is clean until it's been corrupted by the environment around it.  it's not spoiled until the wear and tear of the winter--the cars and the smog and the CO2 soak in, making it black and yucky.

and the thought hit me.  I think people are like that too sometimes.

ever meet someone who is your same age, but looks 10 years older?  from time to time at my job, I will have a client who fits this description.  I am always amazed that we could have graduated the same year of high school and yet seem so utterly different.  almost every single time, I find out it's the wear and tear of life that has gotten to them--the amount of struggle, pain, addictions, or issues they have gone through that have smudged off their luster a bit.

although outside appearances may be one indication, it's truly our hearts that are most impacted.  ever meet someone who had it all together on the outside, but were crumbling away internally?  once the heat turned up, and the outside veneer seemed to fade away, what was truly underneath finally showed. and that was dark, dirty, and a little worse for the wear.

honestly, we are all like these snow banks.  we have been affected by sin, brokenness, and a corrupt world around us.  those things can't help but rub off on us over time.  so, when the spring comes and the temps soar, and the outside cleanliness is gone, the inner guts are revealed--and unfortunately, they are nothing but eye sores.

thank God for newness and cleansing that can only be found through Christ.  if it were up to me, I'd keep shoveling on new snow to keep anyone from noticing the black grossness beneath.  thankfully, I don't have to resort to that.  ya know why?  because that black crap gets taken away and replaced with new cleanness.  there's no need to cover and hide, b/c it has all been taken care of through the cross.  Jesus' blood has cleansed me in a way that my own efforts never could.

the Israelites in the Old Testament had a system in which they must make sacrifices for the cleansing of their hearts.  the problem was, these sacrifices were never quite enough--the snow always melted and the blackness resurfaced.  yet, when Jesus came, He served as the ultimate cleansing sacrifice.

"The blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer sprinkled on those who are ceremonially unclean sanctify them so that they are outwardly clean. How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!" Hebrews 9: 13-14

"Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean;
wash me, and I will be whiter than snow." Psalm 51:7
may this season of Lent be a time that we reflect upon the cleansing sacrifice that only He can provide.  thanks be to God for the newness that is found in Christ!

lessons from music and poetry

This morning at work, we had a professor from Wheaton College, Dr. Jerry Root, speak to us about the topic of Evangelism.  He's a very wise soul, one that you could sit and listen to for hours.  In the span of our time together, he spoke not only about evangelism and sharing the Gospel, but about all sorts of life lessons and faith applications.  One little snippet was a quote he shared from C.S. Lewis (he's a C.S. Lewis expert and scholar…to be expected).  He talked about how we have the tendency to re-read books from time to time, and how it's not the lack of knowledge of the content or plot that keeps us reading them, but rather it's something in the book that tugs at our hearts and creates in us some sort of longing for "other," ultimately a longing for heaven.  (Side note, Dr. Root also shared a story from the movie "The Notebook" and tied it to our deep relational need for God.  We need more men in the world like him. :))  Hearing all this today while also re-reading "Searching for God Knows What" by Donald Miller has gotten me to thinking.

Books and movies tend to capture our emotions, sweep us away in a story, and touch the longings of our hearts.  The same can be said for music, poetry, and art as well. I would even go so far to say that all of humanity has a certain form of appreciation for the arts in some capacity.  There's nothing quite like a beautiful song, a dramatic plot, or a carefully placed brush stroke to catch our attention and tug at something deeper within us.  And what is at the core of us, but our longing for God, for purpose, and for relationship? Yet, when it comes to our faith, we so often conceptualize it through the concrete and tangible--lists and rules, structure and organization.  We want to know our spiritual performance, measure our religious growth, and assess our relational status.  Yet, these structural concepts are not the things of sonnets or love stories.  These don't speak the language of artistic masterpieces, rhythmical melodies, or a lingering kiss.

So, what gives?

Here's the thing.  Let me share a little from my personal experience.  I have never been "good" at feelings.  Someone asks me how I feel, and my immediate response is "I think…"  So, when it comes to my faith, the graph chart approach works really well.  Break it down into something measurable, and I'm set.  Want me to check off a list of to-do's and then mark my progress on a timeline?  Sure, that would be great.  I spent the majority of my childhood and early teen years in this mindset.  Do this, don't do that, and get a gold star in heaven. Yet, turn the tables and ask me to "feel" and relate?  That's much more uncomfortable and unknown.

But the truth is, our faith IS relational. It's dynamic and ever-changing. There's a definite time and place for structure and discipline (believe me!), but it cannot be the basis of our faith.  We need the stuff of poets and lovers.  We need a close, intimate relationship with God, the One who loves us more than human words could ever convey.  No amount of structure or rules or formulas could ever replace or fabricate that.

May we be encouraged this week to bask in His presence and be overwhelmed by His love.

"See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!" 1 John 3:1

small Light, dark world--so let it shine

During this Christmas season, my thoughts should be preoccupied with a Baby in a manger, wise men following a star, and a virgin birth in a little barn out in a far-off place called Bethlehem. Although these things are components to what I've been wrestling with, mostly I've been mulling over the concept of Light.

Perhaps John was thinking similarly when he penned these words:

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:1-5

That Light came in the form of a tiny little Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and laying in a manger, and it hasn't stopped shining since.  

The thing about light is that it's quite persistent.  It only takes a teeny tiny little spark to start a fire.  One small candle can illuminate even the darkest of corners.  

And the Light didn't end when that little Baby grew into a Man and suffered a cruel death on the cross. Instead, it persisted through even the darkest place of all--DEATH, and came back shining even brighter.  Now, this same brilliant Light lives inside all of His followers, as we seek to carry it to the corners of the earth, so that all may be illuminated. 

The Light is persistent and unstoppable, but the darkness is also cunning and tenacious.  It seeks to send strong winds, snuffing out flames wherever possible.  The lurking shadows and creeping fogs attempt to fill crevices and corners, spreading the darkness to reach even the most brightly lit places.  

The darkness will not win, in the end, however.  Light is always more powerful.  The darkness will meet it's final destruction one day, when all things will shine under the illumination of the True Light. Yet, things are not over yet.  Our work is not done.  There's a role for each of us to play as "light bearers."  How do we carry this Light into a dark world? 

Recently, I have heard too many stories of fellow Christians becoming prey to the sin and shame that only comes with the dark.  Secret struggles, shame and fear, and much more can be found lurking in the shadowy corners and recesses of our lives.  It's time to shed Light on these.  It's time for us to step out in faith, allow these areas of our lives to be exposed and cleansed, and to hold out our Light for others to see.  

This can only come through true recognition of those dark corners and an attitude of repentance.   Too easily we refuse to call sin for what it is.  It taints us, keeping us away from God, while also leaving its mark of destruction on both ourselves and those around us.  (See, sin never just affects us.)  It's time for us to rid ourselves of the shadows, and to walk in the Light.  

Light came to the world over 2,000 years ago.  That Light "shone in the darkness," and defeated sin and death on the cross.  Now, that Light shines in us.  A challenge is set before us this season.  How will this truth impact your life?  

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."  Matthew 5: 14-16

There's only one way to wash yourself clean
So let the dirt fall and get on your knees
There are a million scars for every mistake
Oh but we are not chained to the secrets that we've made
Oh but we are not chained to the secrets that we've made

So come let it
Come let it
Come let it
Come let it shine

"Come Let it Shine"--All Sons and Daugthers

Merry Christmas everyone!  May we celebrate the Light.  

independently connected

i've been thinking about friendship, community, and relationships lately.  (part of this may be due to the fact that I am reading "Four Loves" by C.S. Lewis. darn you, Lewis--you make me think!)
...

it's interesting how inextricably woven together we are as human beings.  yet, on the same hand, we find ourselves fiercely independent of each other.

we need each other.  we need laughter and hugs and a listening ear.  we need long talks and a hand to hold.  we need confession,  exhortation, and correction.

yet, we need autonomy.  we need space.  we need to "own" our own decisions and feel like we are staying true to our sense of self.  we need solitude and peace and quiet.

we are connected, yet separated.  our minds, actions, and wills are our own.  we learn and grow from one another.  we become better versions of ourselves.

but ourselves we will always be.

our decisions are just that...they are "ours."  we can pray for one another. we can offer insight, guidance, and sometimes a good ol' smack in the face.  yet, our realm of control only extends so far.  each person must lie in the bed they have made.

connected, yet separate.  and that's ok.  it's actually a beautiful thing.  longing for relationship, yet still finding ourselves alone with our own thoughts at the end of the day.  loving, laughing, and listening, yet still solitary.

the truth is, we'll never feel complete.  we'll never feel fully "known" or connected to others.  and that's ok too.  just like anything else, relationships and community can get off-kilter.  instead, this tension, this vacuum, is meant to instill hope, an anticipation for the future.  the hope that one day things will be different.  when every tear is wiped away, and when we can finally see "face to face."

"now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known." 1 Corinthians 13:12

and for that day we wait.  til then, we walk this path alone...yet, together.