I spent time with some friends today in which we were able to catch up on our lives after not seeing each other for a while but also discussing some theological issues. (Ah! I like this topic much too much!) After learning about their theological stance, I began to pour out my heart on theological issues too.
But it wasn’t theology. Or was it?
I began blurting out all of the things that I was upset about in my spiritual life and in my church. It became a few minutes of which I began airing my spiritual grievances against myself and the world.
The fact of the matter is that I am hunger for God. I read TONS of books on the Christian faith, Jesus, hell, desiring God, parables in the Bible, Reformed doctrine, and being Christ’s hands and feet to those in need. I want to do something. I’m also aware I need to spend a good bit of time being, but I’m also itching to do.
Day after day I’m torn up over my spiritual state because I am angry at myself for forgetting about Jesus when I’m working or not telling others about the freedom that he’s given me.
I want to do practical things to reach out to others in the name of Christ.
I want to be so earthly minded that I’m heavenly good.
I want to wake up on Sunday bursting at the seams to worship Jesus, the God-man who’s done amazing things for me.
I want to be joyously obedient to the Lord out of love and happiness.
I want to connect with other members of Christ’s family through Bible studies where we learn how to transform our lives by applying God’s word.
My husband always admonishes me that I’m too concerned with the big picture. I do want to be part of the big picture. I want to be one of the tiny puzzle pieces that fit to make a beautiful picture when it’s all put together. Right now, I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going. I’m drifting out to sea trying to manage this boat of faith all on my own.
The more I think about the church I visited last week, the more I think I’d like to go back. Maybe because it’s shiny and brand-spankin’ new just like a kid who gets a new toy and plays with it until he’s tired of it and wants something new.
I want solid doctrine, I want love and community, and I want to share my enthusiasm for a powerful, loving God (who, yeah, I have issues with at times) who cared enough about this earth to send his only begotten son to this earth to save sinners.
I experienced a dying of self this weekend. I begged and prayed to God this weekend to be emptied of self so I could be more selfless. And while I had a marvelous time thanks to God’s graciousness, I still, at moments, felt pangs and stings of pain. But I really tried to serve and to love others. And I can only imagine it would have been much more difficult if I didn’t try to seek God out beforehand.
I’m in the midst of my busy season of life. But in the midst of this busy Lenten season, I am remembering Jesus and reading about his life and sacrifice. I am remembering that I need God above all things and need to desire Him more than anything or anyone.
Tomorrow will be a challenging 12-hour day. But I hope the Lord sustains me in a gentle way like He has this past weekend.
I grew no closer to atheism today. Perhaps my life is fully entrenched in Christianity. Tomorrow certainly won’t be any better as I start off my morning by meeting with my church pastor.
Talked to a Christian friend who I haven’t spoken to in AGES, which really blessed me and lifted my spirits for a bit
Spoke to a good friend from church who I consider my sister-in-Christ/accountability buddy and she always—and I mean ALWAYS—sets me straight when I’m feeling lousy and sorry for myself
Received encouragement from an online friend through comments and email
Promised to pray for continued success for a friend NEXT WEEK (somehow this strikes me as funny—delayed prayer)
Said “Praise the Lord” again when a slowpoke driver finally got off the one-lane road
I could go on and on about the things I didn’t do but since I’m supposed to be an “atheist” this week; it doesn’t matter, right? For this week, no, it doesn’t.
If only I could cut myself this much slack as a Christian. While a Christian should care about the things he or she does for God each day, something’s wrong if that Christian obsesses about it. (Something I tend to do.) More of Mary and less of Martha.
Maybe I should be a Christian atheist for a little bit longer… but I can’t resist thanking God for a somewhat enjoyable birthday.
So far, atheism FAIL for me. Seriously. The em-phah-sis has decidedly been put on the Christian aspect so far. (Also, I have no issues splitting infinitives in case you didn’t know.)
The ironic thing about trying to live as if God doesn’t exist is that my mind has decidedly shifted to constantly thinking about God. For example, I catch myself doing “Christian” things when I don’t want to:
Reading my daily devotional and trying to decode some secret message from it (it’s just text, really)
Saying “praise the Lord” during a particular upbeat moment of the day (what atheist praises God?!)
Purchasing the following (Christian) books for my birthday gifts:
These certainly are not the actions of someone who wants to be an atheist or even thinks atheistically.
One could argue that I’m just following habits and that habits, including Christian ones, are hard to break. But why am I developing Christian habits once I’ve decided to try and abandon my faith for a week?
Or perhaps, a likelier scenario: these habits have been here all along and I’ve been so consumed with perfectionism in the Christian life (trying to “do” things on my own) that I’ve never noticed them.
One of my struggles as a Christian has always not been doing enough for God. I’m always frustrated by how I’m not doing the MAJOR things in life, ie, converting masses of degenerates to the praise and glory of God!!! (Sorry, I couldn’t resist the fundy Baptist term “degenerates.”)
On a more realistic, practical level, I am frustrated that I haven’t accomplished the following:
Organizing seminars and workshops through my church that ministers to the practical needs of women in the community, ie, shortcuts and tips to navigating a computer; 30-minute meals (or 15 for when the kids are screaming); audiobooks & e-readers: why use them and how?
Setting up a breakfast/soup table on a Saturday in a poorer area to minister to the people of that community
Spearheading events for women who need monthly fellowship to relax, unwind, or discuss issues that are weighing on their hearts (à la “Mental Health Anonymous”)
Those are a few practical ideas I have in mind (inspired by library events) that I think could be a good part of church outreach. Perhaps they’re middle-class-ish, but I don’t think too many women would be put off by prayer at the beginning and end of a seminar if they can walk away with some useful and valuable tips that make their lives easier or more enjoyable.
These are things I haven’t done and want to do. As a result, I constantly count my missteps rather than my steps:
Didn’t do devotions today!
Didn’t pray today!
Didn’t bless a Shih Tzu today!
Didn’t do the sign of the cross while driving past St. Katherine’s today! (Oops, wrong denomination.)
You get the point. I’m so busy focusing on all the things that I don’t do as a Christian that I begin overlooking the things that are good and right and noble and all those nice things that are somewhere in the Bible. (And because I’m a demi-atheist, I am not looking up the chapter and verse which is probably somewhere in Philippians 4:8.)
And perhaps—just maybe—some Christians trying to live as atheists for a day may improve their relationship with God (as mine seems to be slowly doing; ugh!). Maybe by actively avoiding God, some Christians will be drawn closer to Him instead of trying to passively grow closer to Him.
I’m not talking about Holy Eucharist or Lord’s Supper communion. I’m talking about all that sweet fellowship pious Christians like to go on and on about. When was the last time you had communion with the Lord?
Merriam-Webster defines “communion” as “an act or instance of sharing.” Communion is also defined as “intimate fellowship or rapport.” (M-W suggests also looking up communication.) I can’t remember any recent time when I’ve been consistent in my communion with God other than, oh, 10 years ago?
I’m currently in the process of revising my novel to make my main character more complex. She is challenged to have communion with God by another character, but she is in a place of deep hurt, anger, and resentment against God. She rails on the Lord:
I’m feeling angry. I’m feeling hurt, and I’m feeling abandoned. God is love, God is just, blah, blah, blah. God doesn’t give a shit about me or my family. … He hated José, he hates me, and he hates my family. If He really cared, José would’ve lived. If God really cared about me or what I think, He would’ve answered the countless prayers I have made in the past three years. God doesn’t listen. God doesn’t care.
My character doesn’t realize it, but that still counts as communion with God. She is not only telling other people in the room how she feels, but she’s expressing her angst and frustration to God.
In writing my novel, I am reminded that communion with God doesn’t need to come from a light, fluffy place. God doesn’t need a fake “oh, thou dear heavenly Father that created the sun, moon, and stars to shine”; God wants to hear where I genuinely am right now. And if I’m angry, hurt, upset, or frustrated with Him or at life in general, that’s what I should share with Him.
Communion with God can be very sweet fellowship with words of praise or gratitude. But communion with God can be a time of pouring out your heart to Him in a way that you would never express to anyone else. This is true intimate fellowship.
I had a hard time trying to enjoy God today. I spent most of the day depressed, teary, and angry at God.
But I do love snow. I know, I know the Northeast has really been hammered this year but the awe and wonder of snow never fails to delight me. I feel like a 5-year-old every time I see a snowflake. And when I heard thundersnow, I thought to myself, Well, if that don’t beat all…
My husband worked from home today as I ran back and forth on the emotional treadmill of my hormones. He played a wonderful role as comforter in the best way he could. Although my issues make me feel isolated and alone, my husband was a reminder that he was there to comfort and console me through the grief I experience in life.
I know God does that. I know God can do that. I just wasn’t able to enjoy Him that way today.
I am discontent. I am distrustful. I am full of worry and anxiety. I lack peace.
Joy has always been one of my weaker qualities within the Christian life. I struggle with bipolar depression on the physical/mental side of things, but in the Christian life, I also suffer from a severe lack of joy in a lot of areas. Of probably all the fruits of the Spirit, joy competes for first place with patience for Christian qualities I lack.
However, the Bible is clear that joy is an essential quality of God and key to being able to enjoy a part of who He is. Psalm 16:11 and Psalm 21:6 tell us that in God’s presence is “fullness of joy” and joy “with gladness.” And a number of verses throughout the Psalms put this joy into practice, mainly vocally through singing and shouting, but there are also instances in which joy in the Lord is expressed through playing music (Psalm 43:4) and dancing (Jeremiah 31:12-13).
Biblical joy doesn’t seem to be merely happiness (or gladness) although that is a key component of it. Biblical joy includes praise to the Lord. Whenever joy or rejoicing is expressed in the Bible, it is usually accompanied with a form of praise to God. The 2011 Random House Dictionary defines praise in three primary ways:
the act of expressing approval or admiration; commendation; laudation.
the offering of grateful homage in words or song, as an act of worship: a hymn of praise to god.
the state of being approved or admired: The king lived in praise for many years.
It’s not easy to possess joy all the time, but I’m thankful that God calls His children to partake in corporate worship as an act of joy (among other things).
Image from lanitaslegacy.blogspot.com/2010/09/jehovah-jireh.html
Jehovah-Jireh, roughly translated, means “the Lord will provide.” And boy, is He reminding me that I need Him to provide for us.
I’ve got a ’99 Toyota coupe that’s pushing 130,000 miles. In the past six months, my husband and I have probably put in $2700 of work into this thing: emissions and inspection including getting all four tires replaced in August, a catalytic converter replacement in October, and now in January, some fuel injector and spark plug stuff (among other things). (With the possibility of the other catalytic converter—probably $400—going bad eventually and having to get a $400 air fuel sensor replaced come inspection and emissions time in August.)
Every time we’ve been hit with one of these really expensive car bills (August really took the cake), my freelance job calls needing me to help them out. I charge them a good bit of money so it has helped to pay down these charges, which unfortunately have been going on a credit card.
After glaring at a $600+ bill today, I simply looked to the sky with resignation and said, “Well, Lord, I expect to be hearing from my freelance job next week.” (But in reality, I was looking forward to life slowing down a bit.)
I have to admit how blessed I really am when I stop and think about it. My husband and I aren’t wealthy by American standards (we’re drowning in a heap of debt), but the Lord really has been a provider for us—not when we wanted it but when we needed it. Jesus’ words 2,000 years later ring true for me:
For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life? And why are you worried about clothing? … For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. —Matthew 6:25-34
The crazy thing about worry and anxiety is that sometimes it’s based on irrationality—worst case scenarios, if you will. My experience has been that God has not let me down in the area of providing for my daily needs. (Truly the Lord gives us our daily bread as echoed in the “Our Father,” the Lord’s prayer.) I shouldn’t fret about Him letting me down now.
(Although I’m curious to see where money for a newer car might possibly come from.)
The LORD brings the counsel of the nations to nothing; he frustrates the plans of the peoples. — Psalm 33:10
I can’t tell you how many times in the past two months I have dropped food on my pants (of all places) and cried in frustration, “I just washed this!”
To me, a day or two after I’ve pulled my clothes out of the wash, it is simply inconvenient to have to throw my clothes back in for a stain. (And they’re clothes I usually really like too.)
My friend’s husband once called his wife the CPO of the household—the Chief Planning Officer. I’ve happily adapted that title to my role as well since I love to plan and am the one who schedules appointments and events on our calendar.
But today, after dirtying my clothes for the umpteenth time I realized I’m not the real CPO here—God is. He makes the plans, he determines even the minutiae of me having to throw my clothes back in to the wash two days after I’ve just pulled them out. (sigh)
There are tons of verses in the Psalms and Proverbs that emphasize that even though man makes His plans, the Lord establishes them all. I may consider myself the Chief Planning Officer of the household but God is the Chief Planning Officer of my life.
I had a nasty migraine today that made me nauseous and only got worse as I traveled 3 hours from NY back to PA. (Had to pull over in Brooklyn because I thought I was going to puke.) During that time, I failed to ask God to help me. I failed to ask God to use an attribute of His to assist me in time of need.
There’s no guarantee that God would have; in spite of forgetting to cry out for help, soon after I arrived home and rested for an hour, I felt better. But I missed out on an opportunity to explore an attribute of God—healer and great physician.
In Exodus 15:26, God is referred to as Jehovah-rophe or Jehovah-Raphah transliterated as “the Lord who heals.” Throughout the gospels, Jesus demonstrated this as he went from town to town performing signs and miracles of healing. The first line of treatment is to seek immediate medical attention (Mark 5:25-26) then when all else fails, seek the Lord for help (Mark 5:27-34).
I hope to remember this when I face sickness or when praying for others dealing with sickness.
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.
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.
I come before You now humbly repenting. I was foolish to think I knew better and that my human ways are wiser than Your divine ways. I echo David’s prayer of Psalm 51:
Be gracious to me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness;
According to the greatness of Your compassion blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity
And cleanse me from my sin.
For I know my transgressions,
And my sin is ever before me.
Against You, You only, I have sinned
And done what is evil in Your sight,
So that You are justified when You speak
And blameless when You judge.
Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,
And in sin my mother conceived me.
Behold, You desire truth in the innermost being,
And in the hidden part You will make me know wisdom.
Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Make me to hear joy and gladness,
Let the bones which You have broken rejoice.
Hide Your face from my sins
And blot out all my iniquities.
Create in me a clean heart, O God,
And renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence
And do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation
And sustain me with a willing spirit.
Then I will teach transgressors Your ways,
And sinners will be converted to You.
Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation;
Then my tongue will joyfully sing of Your righteousness.
O Lord, open my lips,
That my mouth may declare Your praise.
For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it;
You are not pleased with burnt offering.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.
By Your favor do good to Zion;
Build the walls of Jerusalem.
Then You will delight in righteous sacrifices,
In burnt offering and whole burnt offering;
Then young bulls will be offered on Your altar.
Since I wrote an open letter to You, publicly asking questions, again I repent publicly expressing my sorrow and seeing how my limited judgment stilted my view of the work that you’re doing in Haiti.
God, You’ve inspired me. Pastor Mark Driscoll of Mars Hill Church and director of Churches Helping Churches has no idea who I am and probably will never know who I am. But his 32 hours on the ground in Haiti has touched my heart and given me a better perspective. A perspective I should have had but was hasty instead to rush to judgment.
I watched his special sermon to his congregation called 32 Hours: The Church in Haiti and was spiritually brought to my knees. In anger, I accused You of not caring, of not being loving, of not being fair, just, or kind when in fact, You are being more merciful that I could have possibly imagined.
I don’t know how many people watched Driscoll’s sermon; in some ways, I don’t care. But at the beginning of his sermon, he spoke of how he barely knew of Haiti and its people. I then realized that fact was true for many people around the world.
And it is through this tragedy, Lord, that people on a mass scale are FINALLY noticing, caring about, and loving Haiti. It is through this tragedy that You have forced people to come to grips with a country in the Western Hemisphere that is in impoverished in almost every single way. Haiti has received more attention in the past two weeks than it ever has before. I’m still not happy that hundreds of thousands of people had to die but I see now their deaths were not in vain. Though we know not their names, they served a purpose—they gave their lives so others might know about their country. They gave their lives so Brazil, Peru, Spain, France, and China to name a few countries, could lend medical care, provide basic needs, and help rebuild a country that has been broken for too long.
Though they may not all have known You, the hundreds of thousands of people who died gave their lives for Your gospel. Through Driscoll’s video, I realized that churches who overlooked Haiti as a mission field before are now extremely burdened for the souls of those people. Pastors who never knew Haiti existed are now begging their congregations to give generously to a country that can never give back.
And I am forced to say nothing other than “thank You.”
People wiser than I encouraged me to read the Book of Habakkuk and see how Your servant asked You questions then awaited an answer and the judgment to come. You have given me an answer, Lord. And I thank You. Because that answer has shown me what I really knew all along but couldn’t really see—that You are being glorified and magnified.
In a week or so from now, the images of Haiti will fade from most people’s minds, we’ll return to our normal lives, and the burden we feel for the country now may lessen. But you have imprinted Haiti on certain people’s hearts as a result of this and now many people from all sects of Christianity will flood into the country and witness the love of Christ in word and in deed. Some may give their lives as the country is still unstable. But the Haitian people will know of Your love and will know that Your people around the world care for them.
Thank You, Lord, for the forgiveness that You provide through Jesus Christ; thank You that You have been gracious and merciful to me to answer my prayers; and thank You for drawing me closer to You and for reigniting a flame in my heart that was slowly beginning to die and lose hope. Show me how I can be of help to a hurting country and a hurting people. Please, God, never ever let me lose sight of the work that You’ve done in my heart and the work that You’re doing in Haiti.
And, while I’m at it, thanks for making me Haitian.
Merci pour tout bagai ou b’am mwen, bon Dieu.
Love,
Me
I don’t know if this will work but I’ve embedded Pastor Driscoll’s video on Haiti below. If it doesn’t work, feel free to see itEmbedding doesn’t work. See it here. It’s on YouTube now so I’m able to embed it. It’s over an hour long but it’s the best hour I’ve spent in a long time. I’d encourage anyone—Christian or not—to watch it.
WARNING: Objectionable photos below the cut. Viewer discretion is advised.
Dear God,
I know I’m supposed to pray in a private place with the door shut and stuff but I hope you won’t excuse me writing this and making it public. I think some people feel the same way I do. I can’t officially speak for them but I know I’m not alone when I ask you the following:
Do you hate the Haitian people?
No, I mean, seriously? Like, do you hate them? Did Satan make a deal with you that he’d pick this one country in the Western Hemisphere and beat it down and allow all others to look comfortable in comparison? Is Pat Robertson right? Did you curse this country because some idiot slaves wanted to be free from French rule?
I am conflicted, Lord. I was born in New York. I am a first-born American. Yet, Haitian blood flows through my veins. I am more related to a country that was reigned by terror and plagued with fear than a country that gave people of my skin color the right to attend any school of their choosing only 45 years ago. I have never known the fear of Papa Doc and Baby Doc but then again, I have never known the fear of the Ku Klux Klan or other white supremacy organizations. I feel straddled between two countries.
I have never been to Haiti. Out of concern for my safety and protection, my mother and father would never take me there. “It’s not the country it used to be,” they lament.
Lord, were there ever glory days in Haiti? What was it like when my parents were growing up? They speak of it fondly as though those were the good ol’ days. But you allowed my grandfather to be gunned down in cold blood during those good ol’ days. Political strife was still present even back then.
Even though I have never been to Haiti, it is a country my parents grew up in. I am first-generation. I guess I don’t need to tell you that; you ordained it. As a result, when I see the images of bodies strewn everywhere, buried under rubble, piled up on one another–I am cut to the quick. Continue reading “An open letter to God, re: Haiti”→