Dear Jess

*Disclaimer: I'm no theologian and I don't have all the answers. This is simply a discussion among friends and these are my thoughts and feelings as a part of that conversation. Some will agree and some will disagree and that's cool with me. Please accept my story as my experience, not as right or wrong.

__________

Dear Jess,

I wish I had a nicely wrapped answer for you. With a bow on it. But I guess if it were that easy, you most likely would have received it already. :)

Most likely I will go on and on, but I want to get the conversation (on my end) rolling by keeping it short and sweet so you don't have to respond to a huge lengthy ramble. (Have you noticed I have a tendency to ramble?)

That said, I'll begin the story of how I came to a certainty of belief.

I did grow up in church (of the Baptist variety.) I never disliked it. I had fun with my church friends and found going to church on Wednesday nights and Sundays to be more of a social thing than actually learning about God. Because I was just a kid, and in my insecurity I cared more about what boy liked me than memorizing verses. But I did "accidentally" come to believe what I was being taught (for the most part.) My parents are also Christians, so there was a lot of talk of Jesus in my house too. I'm thankful that this foundation was there because it has really helped me as I've made my faith my own in adulthood. I'm simply admitting here that I don't think my faith was all that genuine until much later in my life. I was missing some very important things that would open my eyes and heart more than I had thought possible.

Early on, I was taught that a person needed to pray a certain prayer and "accept Jesus as their Savior." It seemed to me that was the most important thing because that gets you into Heaven (PHEW). From there, it appeared that having faith was about lifestyle. (Going to church, no drinking, no smoking, no swearing...)

(I must say here that this was MY impression, it's not how every Christian thinks, I'm sure. But that's how Christianity appeared to me as a child.)

So up until I was an adult, I think I "prayed the prayer" about a thousand times, every chance I got. I had this sneaking suspicion that I wasn't good enough so I should probably keep trying to make sure I wasn't going to Hell.

In my early twenties I finally started to see that walking with God was not just about an afterlife. I now believe that we focus a bit too much on that. Sure, it's very important to have an assurance of your final destination, but I think that final destination may take care of itself if we could learn more about freedom in Christ in this life. Coming to know that freedom means a person has come to know HIM for who He really is, and if we do that, I'm of the opinion He'll welcome us to Him in person one day cause we'll be friends and stuff. (I have no idea if that sentence made sense, sorry.)

I'll continue this possibly very boring story after your response. As I tell it, hopefully I'll answer your question of HOW a person comes to believe. I don't think there's a specific answer to that, like I said before. But I have my story to tell of how it's been for me and I hope that will help.

Lastly, I want to throw a little something in about the Bible. Because I'm a Christian a lot of the knowledge I have of God comes from His book. I have to admit that for much of my life I found the Bible to be somewhat...boring, unrelatable, and really confusing. As we carry on our conversation I'll tell you how that changed as well. I'm now finally understanding how God's Spirit works with we humans, opening our eyes to see things in a way that we couldn't if we didn't ask for His eyes. His word came alive for me and I was actually quite shocked (and impressed) by that.

Jess, I want to say that as I was cutting and pasting your emails in last night for the first post, I found myself more and more impressed by YOU. I appreciate that you aren't judgmental, you're so thoughtful, funny and just plain kind. Thank you.

I SO look forward to hearing from you,
Heather

From Here to There

I wrote a post recently on my other blog about what I believe. Shortly after posting it, I received an email from one of the readers asking if she could ask some questions about my faith. Her name is Jessica, and with her permission, I'd like to share some of her words.

_______________

(from Jessica's first message)

"I wanted to express to you how much I enjoyed reading your full description, but didn't feel
like commenting in the public forum. I hope you don't mind. So much of what you said are things I feel in tune with, and was wondering if I could share some questions with you.
I have been speaking a LOT with my husband (a Christian man who knows what he believes) and trying to figure out things for myself.

I learned a few months ago what it was that I was seeking out, and it was someone who found their path to God and religion and might be able to share with me ways of understanding it. I have found it very difficult (so far impossible) to discuss my reservations about religion with people who have always grown up "believing"in a higher power. They talk about it as if God already exists for everyone and explain from there, but I'm still back
at "how do you GET to him and feel him in your life" stage. I hope that makes sense...as you said, it's very difficult to put into words what exactly one means when talking about faith.
If you would be open to sharing some conversation with me, I would love to "chat"."

_______________

(from Jessica's second message, after I told her I would love to talk more with her about faith)

"I appreciate you being open to discussing, I just felt from the tone of your posts, you would be a comfortable voice to talk to. I've been searching for quite awhile for someone to bounce ideas around with, and realized looking around my peer group wasn't cutting it."

I decided to start off by giving a very condensed synopsis of me and any religious"ness" that's been in my life. It's brief, which makes it the easiest place to start (when you compare it to the thoughts in my head that I've tossed around for years). I'm 31. The first 10 or so years of my life, my dad took our family to Catholic church and Sunday school, almost without fail, every Sunday. One day, we woke up and didn't go anymore. I asked my mom about it, and she said they had a problem with the Father who was currently at that church (he picked on families with small children if their children were loud - go figure, Catholic priest getting mad about KIDS??). My mother was raised Methodist and converted to Catholic to marry my father. For those ten years, I really got nothing out of church. We didn't discuss religion at home, and I don't recall much of anything from Sunday school lessons, and all I really remember about mass was the singing and trying to stay awake.

I basically went through the rest of my young years and all of college ignoring everything about religion. I didn't have anything against it, and I didn't have anything for it. It existed, and I existed, separately.

I started to ponder religion and what was "real"in my early 20s. I was living alone, working,
surviving....I saw a guy a few times, but during a latenight phone call, we started talking about church. I don't really remember what was said, but I believe it started with him saying something about being blessed, God knowing what was right for him...and I was totally
shocked at myself because I started crying. Not to him, and not aloud, but I just cried. He sounded so peaceful talking about God in his life, and I knew nothing of what he felt.It was during this conversation where my thoughts began, and so did my confusion. By this point in my life, I was so set in my beliefs that good things happen because good people made them happen.

Simple as that. I believed that you treat people nicely and as you want to be treated because it's the right thing to do, not because I want to please a higher being. I didn't feel this way to shun God, but I just didn't see how it was "Christian" of me to behave this way, I felt it was a HUMAN way to behave. It's how my families have always acted. And because I felt and still feel this way, it makes it hard to understand that it's a Godly way to live. My husband has told me that he believes I'm one of the most Christian-living people he's known and I don't even realize it. But I tell him it's how people are supposed to be, I shouldn't have to believe in a God to want to live this way. Because I could go on and on with my confusing thoughts, I'll get to my main two points of conflict (right now anyhow!).

1. I think religion is a great thing for those who have it. I think, no matter if the afterlife and God exist or not, having something like religion to believe in allows people to live more peacefully. I envy that feeling that people have, and that no matter how rough life can be, they honestly feel that by praying, their life becomes less stressful and the struggles are given to God to lead them the right way. I think it's wonderful to have it regardless of what really exists.

2. I have yet to meet anyone who came to understand and believe in God as an adult. I have realized I can't talk and ask questions from most people who have believed all their lives because they truly canNOT relate to what it feels like to not believe or to waffle. Asking questions about how they KNOW God is there and how to form a relationship with something so intangible always ends up with answers like "praying will help you find your answers" or "I just knew he existed because I've been so blessed". That doesn't work on someone so uncertain of it's very existence. It doesn't make sense. I don't feel blessed, I feel like I struggle and good things happen if I work hard or have good people around me. I can't pray because that feeling of inner peace or tranquility that comes with releasing your fears doesn't wash over me. I feel silly.

I am so sorry this got so long but I guess with a topic like this, it's very difficult to condense such confusion. I am really looking forward to hearing from you. Your post made me feel like I could get some truly honest and non-judgmental responses and conversation.
Thank you again, good night.
Jessica"

_______________

(and from her most recent message)
"My question or quest is determining how to create or seek out this relationship or how to even come to terms with his existence at all. It's like..."I want to believe that someone will "catch me when I jump" but I can't force myself to step off the ledge". Make sense?"

_______________

Jessica and I agreed that it would be a good thing to have this conversation in a public forum. For me, that's because I would love input from the comments, people adding thoughts to mine when I can't find my words. And also, the contributors of this blog will most likely have lovely things to say in post form if we get their wheels turning. They are wise women who are the type of people who understand, like I do, where Jessica is coming from.

I'm honored that Jessica felt comfortable opening this discussion with me. I'm humbled to think she found me worthy of carrying on this conversation. I consider her a friend, and can't wait to see what's in store for both of us. I respect where Jess is coming from and hope and pray that I can express myself well here. I'll ask God to reveal himself to both of us, since every human has much to learn, whether they are believers or not.

We're all on a journey in this life. Come along and think with us, out loud if you'd like.

Feast or Famine

Over ten years ago I stood in the city dump in Quito, Ecuador baffled by the stench of garbage and completely disturbed by the fact that people lived there. My heart hurt as the dark side of life sunk in.

We were an idealistic group of Americans, and as we crawled out of our van and stood loaded down with loaves of bread, we let the children run to us, their dirty faces smiling.

Radiant smiles. Pure joy, confidence, contentment, shone from their faces like headlights angled up a bit too much, blinding with bright. I was the deer in those headlights, dumbfounded and confused, unable to move for fear I might miss something, a clue as to why this awful place held so much happiness.

That's when I began to realize I was the one there to learn something. The aching need I thought would be expressed in those faces wasn't there as I had predicted. These people were simply happy. I imagine they were truly thankful for our gifts. But the thankfulness in their faces wasn't temporary, a result of our presence or our bread. It looked like the kind of gratitude that proved consistent, a part of the countenance of the souls behind those smiles. It was the kind of thankfulness that could be trusted to remain, gifts or no gifts, feast or famine.

I looked at the cardboard boxes leaning together posing as walls and roof tops, and thought of how so many called this home. There were old blankets and stuffed animals molded into beds. I couldn't imagine spending even one night there. But for many residents of the city dump, it was all they'd ever known.

I thought we would come to these people and tell them something they didn't know. That there is a God who loves them despite their circumstances. I was going to teach them about faith. But mine is a faith clouded with things. Opinions of denominations, the inevitable task of keeping house, daily doses of commercial "freedoms" clouding my vision and confusing me. I can have the best of intentions to love my neighbor the way these people did, but my intentions often get buried under sales flyers, phone calls, emails, and the rat race of my American life.

That day in the dump I realized that one day, or even three weeks of stepping outside my comfort zone was not what I was called to do. It was a good thing to do, but I knew I couldn't leave it at a loaf of bread, wash my hands of it, and head home.

Because every one of us has a specific calling over our lives to serve the people around us, whether there is a feast or a famine in our own lives.

The fulfillment of moving forward and reaching out brings joy, feast or famine.

That day in the dump, we had shown up with the idea that we knew something about life and faith that these people needed. We went assuming that what we knew of God had not yet been revealed to the people of the city dump in Ecuador. We felt we were there to help some lost souls meet Him.

But God had shown up long before we had.

"God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house. God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives. God is in the cries heard under the rubble of war. God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them." -Bono

The light that shone in those eyes I met that day was pure, ignited by the simplest of life's pleasures. And a knowledge of a loving God that meets people in their need. The Great Comforter is a dear friend to those that live in the city dump. And He is just as close to those of us who are completely distracted. We just don't often cry out for Him like those who have set aside their pride and realized their need for His daily presence, feast or famine.

My twenty-year-old American mind could hardly grasp the lesson, but I believe it was there.

Stripped bare of all other desires and freedoms, the human soul can finally rise up to meet contentment as that desperate soul comes face to face with it's Maker. In that contentment there is pure joy, feast or famine.

Tomorrow

As I look to tomorrow, the big election day, my head is full. There is only one thing I know. God does allow us to make our own choices, but He's always moving us toward a specific goal. His kingdom, where love reigns.

He is there already, defying time and space, completely capable of handling all of our tomorrows.

The following post was written by my friend Kristen and was posted today on her blog.
______________
It's an election year, and passions and opinions about the abortion debate are at an all-time high. People are extremely vocal about their views on protecting the unborn. In fact, it seems to be, for many, the single-most important factor in deciding who to vote for.

I am pro-life, and I think all this conviction is great. But I wonder what it will look like on November 5th? Will we be as "pro-life" once the vote is cast? Where will all this energy go? Once the pro-life political email forwards and youtube videos slow down, how do we take this enthusiasm and translate it into action?

• How would this affect how we spend our time?
• How can we mobilize our local church to care for birthmoms?
• How we will care for pregnant teens in our own community?
  How would we assist with the orphan problem worldwide?
• How will we respond to the 115,407 children in foster care who are waiting for a family?
• How will we aid children suffering from malnutrition in impoverished countries?
• How will we demand that our government protect the lives of innocent civilian children living in countries that we attack?
• How will we respond to the children in US cities who live on the streets or in shelters or transient motels?
• How will we educate teenagers so that they have the information they need to avoid unwanted pregnancies?
• How will we keep our local hospitals accountable for their policies on late-term abortions and infant care?

I'm not asking these questions hypothetically. Shocking, I know, but I am not being sarcastic. I am absolutely sincere here, and I hope we can all think about these questions, and how we can respond, so that our pro-life talk becomes more than rhetoric.

I've heard a whole lot of conversation about how people don't want the government choosing how to spend our money, or mandating that our taxes be given to the needy. "The church should respond to the needy, not the government", some say.

So? How are we responding???



It's time to show the world that we are SERIOUS about defending the life of children, both the unborn and the born. We can't leave this up to the government. Our vote, or our president, will not solve the problems facing children and birthmothers in need. We must help. There are too many lives at stake to be passionate with our vote and then forget about this issue until the next election.

So, WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO? - Kristen Howerton
___________________

(back to Heather now)
I'm thankful that I'm not only educating myself one way or the other this election year, choosing to read things that are slanted only toward my personal views and watching only channels that support those views. It's amazing what a good dose of the perspective of both sides can do for your heart and mind.

I don't want to lean so heavily one direction that it becomes my main passion in this life. There is so much more to this life than our one country, our election, or our views on specific certain things.

It doesn't sit right with me when people are passionate to the extent that the Word of God that they stand on is being taken advantage of. No, that doesn't sit right with me.

Slander does not sit right with me. Judgment does not sit right with me. Anger does not sit right with me. Fear does not sit right with me.

Each one of the above is being used to it's fullest extent by the religious right (and the media) in this campaign, and it's wearing me out. I simply find it to be very sad. I see and hear people around me doing and saying things that are absolutely against the teachings of the Bible they profess to believe is truth.

The woman who questioned each of her trick or treaters on who their parents were voting for and refused candy to those that said they were voting for Obama. Hate.

The letter from Dobson predicting the future of our country if Obama is elected, detailing the corruption and demise in the imaginative days to come. Fear.

The man who started a fight with a fellow church-goer in the parking lot of his church for saying he's voting for Obama, calling him a sinner and a fraud. More hate.

Hate and fear are not alone this election year. I want to point at idolatry as well. Our country is not our God. One political party or another is not our God. One president or another is not our God. Our God is still on the throne. He is Sovereign, all-knowing and completely and totally in love with us. He will not let us down. No elected official can keep Him from working ALL things together for good.

When we are this passionate and wrapped up in our political views, we must ask ourselves where our faith is. Is it in this country, the one some believe is somehow the first in line, powering over all other nations, and somehow more important to God than any other nation? Is it in a political party, or in a belief held that says it is our right to mandate the moral decisions of others?

Or are we believing that God's in control no matter who is elected and no matter what party holds the most spaces in office? Do we believe that He might know more about what our country needs than we do, even if we're disappointed in the outcome?

It is one thing to feel strongly about our own taxes and to feel strongly about our moral convictions, but it's also a good idea to dig a little deeper. When I take a look at the world around me and really sit with it, asking God to guide my heart to see it how He does, what do I come up with? Are my blinders on as I put myself and my family before all others and look down my nose at the ideas and practices of others?

Hearing the self-righteous views of Christians around me this election year has not swayed my personal political views. If anything it has reminded me of how badly Christians in our country need a good dose of perspective.

The (much) bigger picture (the world, God's plan, people outside our bubbles...) is often totally forgotten in our haste to be right and to win.

Practicing Peace

I'm an anxious person.

If I could have three wishes from a genie in a bottle, one of them would be to POOF, take away my anxiety. The other two wishes would have to do with cottage living on a lake and poverty. Really. I mean that about ending poverty. Even if three wishes from a genie are meant for frivolous things.

But I digress.

I'm the kind of anxious that produces nail-biting and leg hopping. There could be absolutely nothing anxiety producing going on in my life and I'll still walk around with a bit of an edge to me. A bubbling group of butterflies batting away at my stomach.

I'm sick of it.

Every which way I turn these days, I have been hit over the head with these words:

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me-put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you."

Easy peasy, right?

Not for me. I can admit that I need some work in this particular (and many other) area(s). It seems like a simple equation:

Stop yourself when you start to worry + Pray + Think on lovely things = Peace.

So straight-forward.

This may not come easy for me, but I believe that it works.

I am an excellent example of a work in progress. Because it will take some time and faith to re-train this anxious brain. It's easy for me to fall back on worry, to listen to the little red guy on my shoulder, whispering his negative messages, his lies.

But I would like to silence him, until he is bored and moves on. I would like to stop when I notice that I'm about to start chewing my nails and staring off into space, thinking hard about all that isn't good. I would like to stop and say,

"I am good. Maybe even lovely. I have this man in my life who thinks I am good. I have these children. They are pure joy, and that is excellent. I have these parents that I admire. I see someone hurting and I want to help and do what is right. There is a God who loves me, and I know that is true. He is more than praiseworthy."

I want to stop and speak truth. I want to do what these verses say and calm my anxious heart. I want that peace that passes all human understanding. I want to stop biting my nails over lies.

Sometimes I want it to be miraculously simple. Like that genie in a bottle. But then I realize that most of the time, change comes a little slower, by putting a new way of thinking into practice.

I have met my "genie in a bottle," and I'm so thankful that He still speaks, bringing me peace when I didn't think it was possible.

The Line in the Sand

To clarify the previous post...

We really rockin', ultra-cool Bible Study Ladies were talking about names people had called us over time that affected who we are now. Someone brought into the discussion that a family member of hers had been offended by being called "conservative right." A discussion ensued about whether "conservative right" and "liberal left" are derogatory terms. It seems that it mostly depends on context. In some situations these labels are offensive and in some situations they aren't. (So, for those of you who were hoping for an answer, my apologies.)

The end part of the unheated discussion went something like this:

The Other Lady (TOL): Jesus was conservative right.

Me (MidnightCafe or MC): Well, next week I'll have to wear the t-shirt that reads "Jesus is a Liberal." [this was teasing, but also to provoke some thought]

TOL: I don't think so [that Jesus was a Liberal]. Jesus drew a line in the sand.

MC: I do, too. That doesn't mean I have to vote Republican.

TOL: [something I don't remember]

MC: I have really big feelings about this.

Ok, so here's how I, personally, understood the line in the sand comment. I did not associate it with the story where Jesus drew a line in the sand. I associated it with the idea of having boundaries, morals & values. Dictionary.com defines "draw a line in the sand" as a figure of speech meaning:

"to set a limit; allow to go up to a point but no further."

As in, "I have lines that I will not cross." I'm not totally sure, but I'm thinking that's what TOL was talking about.

James Dunigan at Park Hill Church of Christ said it this way:

When the lines of compromise are drawn we cannot cross it. We cannot swap sides back and forth. We as God’s people must have the courage and strength of character to remain faithful to God’s word no matter who dares us to cross over their lines drawn in the sand and join their side. Whatever line is drawn before you make sure you always step to the side God is on!

But I wanted to talk for a minute about another way that "drew a line in the sand" can be interpreted, and where in scripture the idea comes from. John 8:3-8 says this:

3The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group 4and said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?" 6They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." 8Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

I can't think of a better way to express the sentiment of this passage than Pastor John Frye in his blog at: Jesus The Radical Pastor:

The time that Jesus drew a line in the sand
The scandalous woman lived; sent away forgiven
While blood stones lay unused on the ground,
Once held by self-confessed sinners.

What is our line in the sand?
Does it heal, forgive, give hope and life?
Is it a life line or a line of dark challenge,
signaling separation, judgment and death?

Go click on the blog & read the rest of what he wrote. It's beautiful.

So, Jesus' writing in the sand wasn't about morals and values at all. It was about forgiveness. It isn't even clear that what he wrote in the sand was a line. Maybe He was writing words:

Love,
Mercy,
Grace,
Forgiveness...

I don't know. Maybe it was just a line. In any case, I'm not crossing it.

Whatever line it is, whether it's about having some morals and values I will not compromise or whether it's about crossing the line into judgment, I'm staying on this side.

And I don't think the conservative right has the corner on the market. Not on morals and not on forgiveness. To be clear, I don't think the liberal left does, either. More often, though, I hear the conservative right claiming that corner and casting judgment stones at the liberal left.

Political Feelings, Big and Small

You know, the thing about politics is that they are so political.

I know. Can you believe it? We get done with the whole church conversation and I bring up politics! I can't help it! There was a debate last night and a little something else happened at Bible Study that I'm really interested in discussing.

Both Midnight Cafe and I attend the same women's Bible Study every Wednesday morning. Now before you go picturing us sitting around in a circle, our heads bowed reverently with a bunch of gray-haired ladies, I want to say that our little group of women is totally cool. I love them. They're good people. We drink coffee and eat naughty things and then learn a little something from a little known lady named Beth Moore.

Anyway. A couple of Wednesdays ago, a political discussion reared it's ugly head in an otherwise mild conversation. I overheard parts of it and had to ask Midnight Cafe about what was said afterward, because she was sitting with the women who were discussing liberals and conservatives.

Now. Midnight Cafe may have to correct me if I get any of this wrong, but in short, someone was offended by the term "conservative right," or "religious right." They then said that it's a slur and that liberal people are also offended by the term, "liberal left." I was a bit confused by that alone. I guess if I feel strongly one way or the other, left or right, I might even consider it a compliment to be labeled as such. But an unheated argument came after these remarks, questions being asked and a bit of a non-conclusion resulted. Since that's how it goes with politics.

But then the thing that got me the most was one woman's response to being conservative herself. She said, and I paraphrase, that Jesus would be considered a conservative...a conservative falling very hard to the right. Someone asked a question and the response was "well, He drew a line in the sand."

Then Midnight Cafe could be heard saying, "I have really big feelings about this." Which gave me a chuckle.

I don't claim to have a clue what Jesus really thinks about Republicans. Or Democrats for that matter. I do know what He preached about justice, mercy and service to the poor. But I won't pretend that these beliefs answer all the questions.

I'm just curious. What do you think Jesus was saying by "drawing a line in the sand?" And does it make him part of the religious right of today? A lot of people think so. I admit that I do not. But I'm always willing to see another's point of view and try hard to understand. Do you have big feelings about this? Or are you just plain tired of the whole conversation?