“Father, I know I have looked to things like status and success for a sense of well-being. I’ve grown depressed when I couldn’t achieve them. I have minimized your immense love for me in Christ. For that, I deserve your condemnation. But because of what Christ has done for me, I am accepted by you — not just tolerated, but wonderfully embraced by you. As I take each step today, help me to know that you are for me and with me. While I may struggle with depression, I am first and foremost your beloved child. Let these truths and your personal presence give me courage to move into my life and my relationship with [my spouse.]”
— Prayer adapted from p. 160 of Relationships
by Tim Lane and Paul Tripp
Author: K
Two cents on Roman Polanski
Certainly not two sides of the same coin.
A thought for your pennies
I have always wondered: Is it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? I think I would have rather never loved at all.
A masterful, descriptive definition for Biblical Counseling
Biblical counseling involves identifying our original design, diagnosing how we fall short of that design, and dispensing God’s grace to empower people to mature into the dignified likeness of Christ, the image of the invisible God.
Runner-up Quote of the Day
Legalism is seeking to achieve forgiveness from God and acceptance by God through obedience to God. –C.J. Mahaney
Quote of the Day
“The moment we glorify ourselves, since there is room for one glory only in the universe, we set ourselves up as rivals to the Most High.” — Charles H. Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, p. 458 (taken from http://www.girltalkhome.com)
INFP
Seems pretty on target:
In search of an identity… location.
Am I still a New Yorker or can I legitimately call myself a Philadelphian now?
I was born and raised in New York for 23 years. However, I’ve lived in suburban Philadelphia for the past 3 years with no plans to move anytime soon. I wouldn’t even mind retiring here.
Am I displaced? Can I still call New York home even though I may never live there again? Can I claim myself as a transplanted Philadelphian even though I hate the Mummers and the Philly Phanatic scares me?
What does it mean to have pride from where you live? A waste of energy? A waste of time?
Don’t fear the reaper
Am I fearful? Fear is a focus on phantoms of the theoretical future. But the future is God’s, not mine; mine is only the present moment. I am fearful because I’m thinking I have to live the rest of my life. But I don’t. I only have to live the next five minutes. To me belongs obedience; to Him belongs outcomes.
…
Am I depressed? The concept of doing “the next thing” is just the ticket. Granted, I am far too weak to go on with life—but I can do a load of laundry. And after that I can make the kids breakfast. And after that I can pick up the phone and call a deacon for help on balancing that checkbook. One foot in front of the other: Do “the next thing.” — The next thing by Andrée Seu
I have been pondering death a lot lately. Each night, I give my husband multiple kisses and hugs “good night” in the event I may not see him alive in the morning. I have a huge fear of waking up next to my husband’s cold, lifeless body. Creepy thought isn’t it?
Then I think to how I should react: keep it together and call the police, scream and cry forever, and the most unlikely—shock from the sight and terrifying realization that I’m now widowed causes me to fall over and have a heart attack, joining him in eternity.
My life has always been ruled by fear in one way or another: mostly in social situations. Now, I’m afraid of losing those I love.
I’m afraid of not seeing my mom (who lives all the way in New York) again. I’m afraid that the next time the phone rings, it’ll be a call telling me my 99-year-old beloved grandmother has passed on from old age (she’s in perfectly good health otherwise). My father’s death came out of the blue; who’s next? No one is guaranteed tomorrow.
Then my husband’s grandfather’s suicide was a shock that I still haven’t gotten over. Sure, I’ve accepted the fact that he’s gone but the way he went… it’s still unbelievable.
Am I afraid of dying so much? A little. I’m a bit afraid of what it will be like to go but I don’t worry for others after me. They’ll be fine. Whenever that is.
But if I lose my husband, I’ll be lost. I’m dependent on him for nearly everything. I don’t want to live my life without him. And God can take him away if He wants but I don’t want Him to. I went from my mother’s house to being a wife. I have no idea what it’s like to be “independent.” I’m afraid that I’ll sadly fail to survive without my husband and my mom around. I think of how life could suck. I think of how life used to suck. And it doesn’t feel that way. Life really is good right now.
Thinking about losing my husband to death makes me appreciate every kiss and hug I get from him. I don’t want any regrets in death—his or mine. But I need to stop my fear of losing him and begin enjoying living with him again.
In search of an identity… career.
I always tied my identity to what I did for a living. Americans are notorious for doing this.
Stranger: So tell me a little bit about yourself.
Me: Well, I’m a freelancer. I edit, proofread, and write articles.
I need to break the notion that I am my job. Kass does not equal writer.
I have this bad tendency to equate my self-worth to my accomplishments and achievements. The ironic thing is that my worth does not come from what I’ve accomplished or achieved but what Christ has already accomplished and achieved for all of mankind (including me!).
“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price.” — I Corinthians 6:19-20
Quote of the Day
“It doesn’t matter how you feel. Feelings come and go but God never lies.” — Rick Warren
A eulogy delivered on December 17, 2001
Family, friends, and beloved guests, I want to thank you for attending my father’s memorial service. Not only was he a devoted brother, husband, and father, but above all, he was a born again child of God.
Even though I’ve lived for only 19 years, I praise God for the memories I shared with my father. I remember my father teaching me how to ride a bike at Eisenhower Park. Although he did not have a son, I fulfilled that role when he taught me how to play football. I look back memorably on the last Sunday of each January when my father and I would sit and watch the Super Bowl. My father has taught me everything I need to kow to watch sports with my future husband. He taught me that soccer is true football and that no one (but Americans) calls football soccer. He raised me on cheering for the New York Yankees, but would take me to a Mets game when he had the opportunity.
All the areas of my father’s life seems to be all right but he felt an emptiness that he could not explain. To fill this longing in his heart, he set out on his quest to find God. Raised as a staunch Catholic, he realized he could not find what he needed in the traditions of man. God led him to Bible Baptist Church where he accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. As a born again Christian, he began reading the Bible and learned that he could go directly to God for the forgiveness of his sins, not through a priest. Because of my father’s earnest efforts to bring me to a Bible-believing church, in July of 1998, I also came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior.
As my father immersed himself in the Bible, God changed his heart and gave him a joy that he had never possessed. A verse from his favorite Psalm reads, “The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.” When trials headed his way, he turned to God for comfort and assistance. Leaving New York for a Christian college in Florida was not the easiest thing for me to do, but my father was at peace with the decision, knowing that I was doing the will of God.
When people ask how they can help ease the pain of my father’s passing, there’s only one answer: To do what I know my father would want people to do, and that is to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ for the remission of their sins. Everyone in this room is a sinner. Romans 3:23 in the Bible says, “For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.” Romans 6:23 says, “For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” The ultimate punishment of sin is death, but because my father believed upon Jesus Christ’s finished work on the cross, he is now living eternally in heaven with God. People should be sad today because my father is no longer physically present. But I know that my father is in a better place right now, not because he deserved to be, but because God made salvation available to my father as He is making it available to everyone here. John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world, that he gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” Do not focus on my father’s death; instead, I ask you to focus on your eternal destination. It doesn’t matter whether you’re 19 or 90, each of us will die eventually. Then where will you go? There’s a heaven above, a hell below and nothing in between. Had my father not trusted in Jesus Christ, he would have suffered from eternal torment.
Has there ever been a time in your life when you told God that you believed Jesus Christ died, was buried and resurrected for your sins so that you could have access to the gates of heaven? In John 14:6, Jesus states, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father but by me.”
Philippians 4:13 emphasizes, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” If anyone is without Christ, he can do nothing. But I praise God that when He calls me to my home in heaven, I can see my father again. Can you say with definite assurance that you are on your way to heaven? If my father’s death has not made you questions your eternal destination, then he will have died in vain. But if someone here realizes that he is a sheep wandering without a shepherd, the Lord Jesus is beckoning you to come to Him.
August 22, 1942–December 9, 2001
Thought of the Day
Are you more devoted to your idea of what Jesus wants than to Jesus Himself? If so, you are likely to hear one of His harsh and unyielding statements that will produce sorrow in you. What Jesus says is difficult— it is only easy when it is heard by those who have His nature in them. Beware of allowing anything to soften the hard words of Jesus Christ. — Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest, August 18
In search of an identity… race.
After Michael Jackson’s sudden death, BET announced that it would feature a Michael Jackson tribute on its annual awards show. Curious to see how this tribute would turn out, I asked my husband to flip the TV channel to BET the night of the awards show.
I watched hoping to see a well-done opening act only to find Jamie Foxx, butchering the Moonwalk and doing a poor imitation of Michael Jackson’s dance moves. I smiled, assuming Foxx was being comedic and doing the best he could. When Foxx was done, he went on a mini-rant about how Michael Jackson was a “black man” and “he belonged to us.” My husband immediately flipped the channel and said, “I am not watching anymore of this racist garbage.” He subsequently went on to ban BET from our home.
The BET Awards just shed another light on an issue that I’ve been struggling with recently—the issue of race and how it relates to my identity.
I’ve always had issues with my racial identity but the problem reared its ugly head continuously during the 2008 presidential election in which I publicly chose not to support Democratic candidate Barack Obama’s bid. Ever since, I’ve struggled with what it means to a Black Christian female and how race plays into who I am.
One question I grapple with: Does race matter? And I think, yes, for the most part, it does.
Race matters:
- When I need to get my hair done. I need a hairdresser who can style ethnic hair. The hairdresser can be black or white but she needs to know how to wash, style, and properly treat black hair. In that sense, race matters.
- When it comes to medical issues, there are some medications that have been proven to work better in one race than in another. Genetically, race matters.
But when it comes to my personality, does race matter? No, it does not.
In the black community, race is not just a color; it’s become a culture. Black or African American culture. (While the terms Black and African American have become interchangeable and most people seem to prefer African American, my immediate heritage is Caribbean so I’m more comfortable simply using Black.)
What comprises Black culture?
- Music: Blues, rap, hip-hop, R&B.
- Religion: Style of worship.
- Race: Racial discrimination has been a part of Black history for so long that it cannot be ignored.
- Art: There is a definitive African influence here.
- Entertainment: Comedy and movies.
- Food: Soul and Caribbean
- Politics: You’re a Democrat.
- Language
With the exception of music, race, food, and politics, I’ve never been exposed to much of Black culture. I’m an only child and grew up in a nice, suburban area of the New York metropolitan area. While the area around me was highly diverse, no one in particular influenced me; I gravitated toward whatever I thought was interesting.
I suppose in my parents’ attempt to assimilate into American culture, the culture they adopted was one influenced by whites. I went to Roman Catholic schools from K-12 and attended predominantly white parishes until I became a born again Christian at age 16. Even then, I had a white pastor.
I grew up around mostly white kids and played with the white Barbie dolls. Maybe I was reared to be who other black people call a “sellout.” Continue reading “In search of an identity… race.”
Salvation according to Jack Chick
Yes, because we all know praying a prayer saves you.
/sarcasm
This Journey Is My Own 