Attempting to live and breathe for an audience of one
I went to a grocery store today near my mom’s house in New York that I hadn’t been to in 5 years. Everything had changed: the bank, the people, the layout, and the technology in the checkout lanes.
But in 5 years, 10 years, 50 or 100 years, God doesn’t change. He is always the same God with the same attributes and qualities. No matter what changes on earth in human time, God always stays the same.
Which, for someone who doesn’t handle change very well, is kind of nice.
One aspect I appreciate about God is that He gives people a chance to start over.
As I turn my attention toward 2011, I reflect on people (including myself) creating new goals and resolutions for the upcoming year. People love the opportunity to erase the past and start something new.
In Christ, God gives people that opportunity. He gives people the chance to put off the “old man” and put on the “new man.” God allows people to become a new creation in Jesus Christ with new hearts, new attitudes, and new lives.
New beginnings are something we can look forward to. In fact, I think they are a God-ordained blessing in the midst of this fallen, broken world. Perhaps the physical dawning of the new year can represent the spiritual dawn available for people in Christ.
One way to enjoy God is to be still (something I don’t do enough of). I took hydroxyzine last night so I had a drug hangover today. I’ve also had a lousy headache that forced me to switch from bass-heavy music to quiet piano. I’ve been unable able to do things that require deep thinking. I haven’t been able to exercise. I’ve pretty much been stationary today, which I actually hate.
Except today.
Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” My solo piano station on pandora.com plays a lot of piano hymns that turn my thoughts toward Jesus or simply help me to think on things that are “true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, or worthy of praise.” (Phil. 4:8)
Tomorrow will be New Year’s Eve. I’ll be back to my normal self: traveling, running around, feeling stressed about all that needs to be done, and the upcoming week. But today I was forced to be still and relax in the presence of God.
Today I went to Manhattan, NY with my husband and in-laws to see Macy*s Herald Square, the Rockettes Christmas Spectacular, the tree at Rockefeller Center, and have lunch at the Stage Deli. I love New York City and I love sharing NYC with others so when I discovered my mother-in-law wanted to see the Rockettes, I had no qualms taking her. (Hey, it’s a NYC tradition!)
After my in-laws brought me and my husband to our home after our very long and busy day, I saw tears in my mother-in-law’s eyes and I knew that she was grateful for the day and it meant something special to her. Despite the fact that my love for the Rockettes at 28 isn’t what it was at 8, by taking time out of my day to share something that meant so much to her, I was learning how to be good and to share that goodness with others.
God’s goodness goes beyond the Rockettes, money, and pretty decorations although the nice thing is, that can be a part of it. In enjoying God, I am able to enjoy things He has allowed me to take part in. Just as my in-laws graciously treated my husband and I to a fabulous New York deli meal through their goodness, God graciously provides for and meets wants and needs that I never think to ask for. God is beyond materially good; He’s spiritually good but I think Christians who try to kid themselves about the different ways God makes His presence (and presents!) known are missing out on one way to enjoy God.
Let it be known: I hate bumper stickers like that above. Mostly because I think they’re cheesy and ineffective, but sometimes it reminds me of a truth that tends to fall hollow with me.
You see, I know Jesus but I feel like I have no peace.
My head and heart are almost always spinning with busyness, noise, stress, and other things that crowd out any semblance of peace. I’m not talking external peace; I mean internal peace.
While I’ll tackle the topic of joy another day, I think joy and peace go hand-in-hand in some way. The idea of peace has always evoked an image of joy along with it (in my mind).
I’ve taken a vacation from paid work this week but still feel like I have no peace. I’m stressed. I’m nervous. I’m afraid that I’m on the verge of a nervous breakdown and headed back to a psych hospital. (Maybe I need to visit once every six years to remind me how much I hate it?) I have all this spiritual static in my head that succeeds in clouding God out and making Him fuzzy around the edges.
The point of learning how to enjoy God is not that I’ll have arrived by the time I publish one of these posts but that it’s a process: I’m learning. An aspect of being able to enjoy God is also enjoying the peace that He provides.
Hopefully God will help me out in this area in 2011.
I went to the hair salon tonight with my hair looking “a hot mess” (as the slang goes). I haven’t been taking care of it for the past month like I should because I’d been too busy working two jobs, kept rescheduling my appointment, and was too depressed to keep it up on my own. But my hairdresser knew none of that. All she knew was that my hair looked awful and was in dire need of repair. When she was done, my hair looked amazing. She did a job I could have never done on my own. I had to rely on her skilled hands to craft a disaster into something beautiful. (You know where I’m going with this, right?)
God does something similar albeit on a much bigger scale and with more important things than hair. God sees the disaster of my natural heart with its sinful jealousy, strife, grumbling, and bitterness, and somehow takes that, cuts away the ugly layers of who I am to craft me into someone beautiful.
In paying attention to the everyday, seemingly mundane things and moments of my life, I am finding ways to know and enjoy God. Who knew that God could use something as superficial as a well-coiffed hairstyle to remind me how supremely beautiful He is… and how only He can make me divinely beautiful?
jeal·ous [jel-uhs]
–adjective
Lately as I’ve been convicted by my burgeoning jealousy on a number of things, I am reminded of my jealous God—not in the sinful, human sense but in the Biblical sense as in definition number six above. But I think His jealousy also ties into definition number five: the Lord is vigilant in guarding the hearts of his people.
How in the world is this part of enjoying God? Well, the things I’ve been desiring haven’t been bad or sinful things, but my attitude toward not obtaining them has been wrong. Then I think of how God is jealous for me—in the pure and righteous sense—vigilant in guarding the affections of my heart and intolerant of anything that leads my heart away from Him. Recognizing this forces me to repent of the temporal things I have been jealous of and turn myself toward the eternal God.
A wife who is jealous of her husband (or vice versa) isn’t a bad thing. It’s right for spouses to be intolerant of unfaithfulness. And likewise, so it is right for the God of the universe to demand (actually, He commands) all of my affection and competing with nothing else.
In my opinion, it’s nice to be loved and wanted that much.
It’s not on my previous list of attributes but I’ve discovered a way to enjoy God is to look for His image in people.
Today, I learned that the God of the universe is a quality-time God. Spending time with my husband, family, and friends is always a delight. I enjoy spending time with them even if I’m simply in their presence, not talking but watching a movie or performing some other task. I cherish the moments I spend with them and simply enjoy being around them. That’s the way God is. He wants us to draw near to Him as He draws close to us.
So, that’s one aspect I’ve learned about God: He loves quality time.
Since joining the PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) in 2007, I have been meditating on the answer to the first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism:
Q: What is the chief end of man?
A: Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever.
There are two parts to this answer: (1) glorify God, (2) enjoy Him forever. I’ve never been baffled much by the first part but the second part has always left me stymied. From my February 2010 entry:
I know how to enjoy His creation but enjoying Him is an entirely different matter.
Recently, it dawned on me: the way to enjoy God is by knowing Him and having an active, personal relationship with Him.
How do I enjoy the people I care about? I enjoy them through their qualities or attributes and not necessarily the things that they do for me (contrary to how I often approach God). For example, I enjoy being around my husband and spending time with him because he’s funny, smart, and kind; not necessarily because he brings me a latte when I want him to (although that IS a bonus).
As a result, I realized the way for me to enjoy God (and fully understand the second part to the first answer of the catechism) is to know, see, and experience God’s attributes and who He is in relationship to me. Here is a Biblical list of some of God’s attributes (with the help of The Navigators website): Continue reading “365+ Days of Enjoying God”
I’m struggling with forgiving the church.
You see, I want to forgive the church with all of its foibles and shortcomings but that means if I forgive the church then in the future, I can’t bring up what it’s done wrong in the past. And heaven forbid that I actually put into practice something that God tells me to do.
I’ve always thought of myself as more of a forgiver than a grudge-holder, and I tend to be, but I do have my occasions when I hold grudges as good as someone in the mafia. It took me about 15 years to forgive my classmates for teasing me in grade school (and I’m not that old). I say that I’ve even forgiven my coworkers from three years ago but if I see any of them again, I have no doubt that what they said about me would be the first memories to rush back into my mind.
—
I met with someone in my church on Wednesday morning to discuss a lot of the issues I had about my church. He didn’t fix them but he was kind, listened to me ramble, and offered advice when he could.
The problem with me is that I had an issue with how certain things were handled several years ago, swept my issue under the table (“It doesn’t matter anyway/won’t change things”), and kept moving forward. The problem is, I swept that issue under the table but never used a dustpan to remove it. It just stayed there. And I continued to sweep and sweep, never using a dustpan until this huge pile of dirt began festering and became noticeable enough that I needed to take care of it.
And was everything handled well? Not really. But that’s where forgiveness comes in. I need to recognize that people do the best they can but we all will fall short along the way. I need to wipe the slate of my mind clean and look at others without bias and judgment.
—
I often wonder, however, whether I’ve outgrown my church.
Outgrown really isn’t the correct word. More like grown apart. I suppose this is an issue I would have had to contend with whether or not the pastor left.
I notice things now that I hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps because I am struggling with discontentment, I find things to grumble about. But because I notice them, I want them to be addressed. I also, however, need to recognize that we have installed a new pastor and that things are very well changing behind the scenes and haven’t been conveyed to the congregation yet. I also need patience.
For a period of two-plus years, my church was without a pastor. As the person I met with on Wednesday said, the church went into “survival mode.” Two people (who were not in full-time ministry) were charged with basically keeping this 100+ (and growing) congregation together.
But things fell along the wayside. Or perhaps it was an issue that had always fallen along the wayside.
My church is located in a nice, suburban, middle-class to upper-middle-class area west of Philadelphia. The area is heavily Catholic, surrounded by Catholic churches or Catholic schools. It is a bustling town right along the Schuylkill River. The town is predominantly white, however, there is a prominent pocket of Koreans in one section.
Then there is a strip that runs along the side of town where many of the minorities live. Blacks and Hispanics reside along this street and I’m told that is the seedy part of the town—where the drug dealers and hookers are. But it is also where, I’m sure, some honest hard-working people cannot afford to leave because the main part of town is much too expensive to live in.
My church is reflective of the majority population of the area: white and middle-class to upper-middle-class. Even the minorities in our church (you can count on one hand and the group includes me) are more along the well-to-do side. To paraphrase Tim Keller’s lament in his bestselling book, The Prodigal God, I am in a church of elder brothers that is desperately in need of younger brothers.
Despite my spiritual depression, I have been struck by how much I have learned about Jesus’ personality through all of my readings. I seem to know him better than I did even two or three years ago. I am constantly amazed by the examples in which Jesus spent time with the people we consider the refuse of this world: the lepers, the blind, the lame, the weak, the prostitutes, the women, the tax collectors, the obvious sinners. But Jesus wasn’t discriminating, he also spent time with the Pharisees and the Saduccees—those who wanted to meet with him but in secret. Jesus was willing to meet with anyone anywhere who wanted to meet with him.
If Jesus were around today, I think he’d be hanging around drug dealers and users, alcoholics, womanizers, gays, HIV-positive patients, Las Vegas showgirls, porn stars—part of the people who will readily admit that they don’t have it all together. But Jesus would probably meet with politicians, Hollywood stars, CEOs, white-collar workers, Wall Street businessmen—all the people who pretend like they have it all together but in secret, are really searching for something or someone to give their life real meaning.
Jesus was never an either/or kind of guy. Why must his followers be? Why can’t a church that arguably could be considered wealthy reach out to the people that Jesus would have reached out to? Is the church’s message so comfortable that it alienates the outcasts and welcomes the moralists?
For all of my complaining, I don’t have any solutions. My first step, however, in 2011 will be to read the book When Helping Hurts to discover the appropriate ways to reach out to a poorer, minority-filled community. I can’t imagine that it would be good for either me or that community to barge in and start doling out food without first discovering how to appropriately minister to their needs. The fact that I look more like them could be a help or a hindrance. I don’t know. But perhaps the fact that we share a darker skin color has given me a burden to reach out to them.
People say one person can make a difference. I don’t know. I think I share more of Hillary Clinton’s perspective in that “it takes a village.” I don’t know if I can make a difference in anyone’s life or if I can accomplish anything at all as one person. But I would like to get the ball rolling.
Nine years ago today, my father died. I didn’t find out for certain until December 14. But the pain of his passing strikes me on and off for about a week and a half during the month of December.
I get frustrated with myself because I need to stop grieving afresh each year as the Christmas season approaches. But of course, I didn’t grieve for the first three to four years after his death so maybe I’m just encountering a delayed reaction. Maybe it’s as if he died in 2004 and I’m just going through something that would have been natural if it occurred six years ago.
I’m at work today so I’m not bawling my eyes out but my heart is heavy with sorrow. I need to take frequent breaks to gather myself together because I so much miss this man who has helped shape who I am.
I was honest with God today. I told Him “I fucking hate the fact that You took my father away from me.” The arrogance of the statement struck me as soon as it left my mouth. I don’t own my father. I never have; my father has never belonged to anyone except God. I see it as God taking my father away but really it’s God just deciding to bring my father home.
My father was alive for only 19 years of my life. But I started to lose my father to mental illness when I became a teenager, around 13 or 14 years old. Perhaps I’m not as much angry that he’s physically gone as the fact that he mentally began leaving me five to six years before his actual passing. My most vivid memories of my father are some of the saddest (but also funniest, in a mental illness sort of way) ones.
The memories of his sane years are leaving me because I was so young:
So many memories that I’m struggling to remember because they are so easily leaving me as I grow older.
So I try so hard to keep my father alive through the legacy he left me:
Some of the things I didn’t inherit:
He may not have been the best husband to my mom but he was an amazing father—the best he knew how to be. Perhaps I developed some perfectionism issues as a result of his overbearingness but I know he meant well. He simply was a Haitian immigrant who wanted his American-born daughter to succeed in life and excelling in academics was the answer to that.
So perhaps I’m not lamenting my father’s physical passing so much as I am finally grieving over the father that I lost so long ago. It’s difficult to grieve over someone while they’re still alive. If I could liken the mental loss of my father to anything, it would be like losing a loved one to Alzheimer’s. Slow and painful until death is all that’s left.
I know he’s in a better place but there’s a selfish part of me that still wished he were here. And I don’t know how to fight the illogic of that.
Notice: I was not paid for this post. This post was not endorsed by The Container Store, and in fact, The Container Store has no knowledge of this post. (And if The Container Store ever does, no, I don’t do giveaways, but I do accept free gift cards loaded with denominations greater than $0!)
I went to The Container Store in Cherry Hill, NJ after work today. I think my favorite hobby/interest next to reading and writing is organizing. The funny thing is I’m rather messy but organized messy. (Ha!)
Here are some of the purchases I made today (subsidized by a $25 Container Store gift card):
Here’s what I wish I’d gotten:
And if I had more money to blow:
Now the problem is that I’m ready to purchase more!
I also love See Jane Work (exclusively online) pieces because they’re so aesthetically appealing but I balk at the pricing.
Target is also another great place to score affordable home office finds that are well designed. (I’d recommend going to the Home Office section in store rather than browsing online.)
(sigh) I think I’d be pretty happy being paid to organize homes. Just need to address that teensy time management problem now…
So The Biggest Loser trainer Jillian Michaels has all certified kettlebell instructors up in arms ever since she decided that kettlebells would be her new favorite toy to show off to America. She has a new DVD out called Shred-It with Weights (which is getting great reviews on Amazon so far) and she was featured using a kettlebell on a 2009 episode of The Biggest Loser’s “Trainer Tips.” (video below)
The reason the people begin laughing at the end of the video is that Jillian makes it clear to the kettlebell community that she has NO idea what she’s doing.
Over at Philly Burbs, Jen Wielgus introduces her readers to a Los Angeles Times article bashing Jillian’s improper kettlebell form and her audacity to show the world how to do something that she really doesn’t know how to do. James Fell, the author of the LA Times article and a certified fitness instructor in Canada, goes so far to say this:
Michaels is not actually a real fitness trainer — she’s an actress playing the role of fitness trainer on TV and in a line of popular DVDs.
Harsh.
But the statement leads to a good point. When people look for a personal trainer, they look for someone who is certified with active credentials.
Michaels obtained some introductory fitness certifications (National Exercise & Sports Trainers Assn. and Aerobics and Fitness Assn. of America) 17 years ago and does not seem to ever have recertified. The biography on her website goes on and on about her multimedia endeavors, but there is not a single mention of any health-and-fitness education or credentials.
If this were Zoe Schmuck who had qualifications like that, she’d never be given a second thought by a gym. But TV viewers don’t care about little things like that.
UPDATE: After I wrote this post, Jillian posted the following on her Facebook:
Never thought LA times would resort to liable & defamation to sell papers. Guess I’m canceling my subscription. I hold 2 current certifications. NESTA & AFFA. I’ve also developed a continuing education program for trainers with AFFA. I’ve been a trainer for 19 years. I OWNED a sports medicine facility & worked as a tra…iner & PT aid for the physiatrists, PT’s, & chiro’s I employed. AND i’m a black belt.
Continue reading “Jillian Michaels pisses off the kettlebell community”
Thinking of a tweet a friend sent me a couple of days ago when I asked what was the difference between Jesus being Lord and Savior:
Savior & Lord have 2 diff meanings. I think the argument is that if you only want Jesus as Savior, but not Lord, then is he really your Savior? Is Jesus your fire insurance or is he really the Lord over your life BECAUSE he saved you from the pit?
If I’m really honest, Jesus is fire insurance. When someone is Lord over one’s life, they can also lord over it. I don’t believe Jesus is intrusive like that but somehow I need to be able to let Jesus rule over ever centimeter of my life if he wanted to. Every dark corner that hides, every bright light that shines: finances, relationships, career… give everything over to him.
Having only fire insurance sounds much better.
A friend said this to me on Twitter today:
I do think people are dishonest in general about their ‘spirituality.’
I have to agree with him. And I can’t help wonder why that is.
This statement forced me to look at my own spirituality. I like to think that I’m rather “real” when it comes to my Christian life. Too often I’m frustrated by people who try to act like they have it all together just because they have Jesus in their lives and I’m always comparing myself mercilessly to people who seem particularly pious and pray and read their Bibles all the time.
On the contrary, I also look at the people who practice yoga religiously or listen to the teachings of Eckhart Tolle and wonder if they’ve discovered some inner peace that I still find myself seeking.
So I’ve come to the conclusion that we all put on a front to some extent. There are days (perhaps sometimes weeks!) when I’ve got this spiritual connection going, some amazing mountaintop relationship with God and I really am a prayer warrior and in touch with a power greater than myself.
Then there are days (and weeks!) that go by when I don’t pray, get angry with God, feel lost as though I’m stumbling through life just trying to life in the physical, and going through the motion of attending church because it’s what I do and not necessarily because I want to. (Is that right to do? No.)
So it’s time for me to strip off the armor of pretentious spirituality and put down the shield of piousness:
The answer to that last question is no. And if you’re reading this, you’re probably answering similarly if you’re honest with yourself. By the way, if you still think you’d sacrifice all to follow Jesus then let me challenge you do to this right now:
Sell your house,
Sell your SUV,
Sell your stock,
Sell your security,
And give it to the poor.¹
Won’t do/haven’t done that? Yeah, your answer’s the same as mine.
Perhaps the way back to genuinely following Christ is to strip off the facades we wear. Maybe if I showed up at church and asked someone how he was doing and he responded honestly, “A tough week but I’m hanging in there” rather than the standard “Just fine,” perhaps we’d exhibit a bit more Christ-likeness.
I love Mark Driscoll’s ministry and I think he’s done a lot to reach others for Christ in the 21st century, but the machismo thing bothers me. Sorry, I can’t quite picture Jesus going to Monday Night RAW or cheering on guys beating each other senseless in the UFC. On the contrary (which is probably Driscoll’s real point), I don’t think Jesus would’ve been a pansy flower child flashing the peace sign and getting high in the middle of a muddy field.
Jesus is the sovereign Lord of the universe. During his time on earth, he exhibited emotion and didn’t pretend to be something he was not. When Lazarus died, the Lamb of God felt the real sting of death and wept for his friend (before resurrecting him!). When money changers were desecrating the temple of God, Jesus displayed righteous anger in preserving a sanctuary that was supposed to be kept holy. And right before Jesus faced the cruelest death anyone could face, fear flowed through his body as he pleaded three times with his heavenly Father to take the task at hand away from him (before submitting himself to God’s will).
Wow. Sadness, anger, and fear. All from the one whom Christians call their Savior. Jesus didn’t pretend to be okay. Jesus wasn’t all macho like, “Yo, dudes, I got this. No sweat.” Not even with the apostles, his closest friends, who he asked to stay up with him before Judas betrayed him. Jesus was real.
And if Jesus was real, why do believers in him keep acting so damn fake?
¹Quoted from Derek Webb’s “Rich Young Ruler”
This Journey Is My Own 