These are from an article on Burnside Writers Collective, which has recently been rocking my world. The four of you who read this, should go read that. Particularly you.
*********************************************************
Pretty Remarkable Statistic #1: 1.1 billion people are without safe drinking water, while Americans consume 26 billion liters of BOTTLED water annually.
Pretty Remarkable Statistic #2: Every 16 seconds somewhere in the world someone dies of hunger, while 2 out of 3 Americans are considered overweight.
Pretty Remarkable Statistic #3: Americans spend more annually on trash bags than nearly half the world does on ALL goods.
Pretty Remarkable Statistic #4: An estimated 22 million people died from preventable disease in 2001; 10 million were children.
Pretty Remarkable Statistic #5: 1 in 16 women in sub-Saharan African dies in childbirth.
Pretty Remarkable Statistic #6: 40% of the world lacks basic sanitation facilities.
Consider the costs of eradicating some of these needs:
The cost of basic education for all: $6 billion.
The cost of water and sanitation for all: $10 billion.
The cost of reproductive health for all women: $12 billion.
Basic health and nutrition for all: $13 billion.
To put this in perspective, consider that Americans spent just over $18 billion on consumer products (largely for Christmas gifts) during the weekend of November 24-26, 2006, which is the largest shopping weekend of the year.
**********************************************************
Sometimes numbers and statistics screw with my head, and quite honestly they can be manipulated. I think these are from a pretty legitimate source. But like my pastor says, numbers equal lives.
I believe that these numbers reflect the most crucial issue of our time. Bigger than the war in Iraq, bigger than global warming, bigger than what Paris Hilton did last night, or when the next Pirates of the Caribbean flick comes to a theater near you. These numbers, aside from the gospel, are the most important information you will see today, or tomorrow or the day after that, because the numbers reflect the status in which our world exists.
Yes, they maybe disheartening, and even heartbreaking, when I actually choose to think about what these numbers mean (millions of people dying without knowing the love of the God who created them) I am nearly paralyzed with sorrow. It seems like too big of a problem to even try.
But more than that, these numbers reflect an opportunity. An opportunity to be used as an instrument of God's grace to extend healing, justice and mercy to those widows and orphans who are the very closest to the heart of God. An opportunity to let your (my) mind and your (my) heart be transformed by the Holy Spirit, because it is only when God renews us from within that any of our outward actions will matter at all. This is not about me making myself feel good because I gave some money to the poor and needy. This is about coming into a deeper understanding of who my God is and what is of value to him.
James 1:27
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
Proverbs 24:11-12
Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say, "But we knew nothing about this," does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay each person according to what he has done?
I'm not saying that we all have to quit our jobs at this very moment to go to Africa or India or China, but thanks be to God that we have jobs! And jobs equal paychecks. Paychecks equal dollar bills and no matter the ethics of it, dollar bills equal the beginning of the end of this problem. I do believe that no matter how much money the United States and Europe throws at Africa that the problem will not be completely solved.
All of these crisises are more than just a lack of money or infrastructure or education. These problems are all indicative of the most basic problem that any human being has: SIN. Our world is devastated because of sin and the consequences our own flesh has ravished upon us for generations. Because we at our core are the problem, there is nothing we can do with our own hands that will solve it.
The solution can only come from outside of ourselves. The only solution is the love and grace the Jesus Christ offers us. The only solution is a relationship with the One who made us, and who rescues us from of all these problems that we have gotten ourselves into.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Thursday, March 22, 2007
I spilled coffee on my bible this morning, and nearly swore, but didn't because I really wasn't aware enough to forms words. It made me feel like the cards were stacked against me and that surely Thursday would turn out bad. Then as I was wiping away the warm liquid that should have been in my body instead of on the kitchen table, I scolded myself for having such negative thoughts. Why on earth would a clutzy maneuver like spilling my coffee indicate the outcome of my day? It doesn't.
I'm restless in my skin.
I'm tired of feeling the same thing over and over and over. I'm tired of anticipation, but I don't think I'm ready for whatever it is I am anticipating.
I want the world to change.
I want to change the world.
I want to go, but it's not time for me to leave.
pray.
wait.
pray.
wait.
wait.
wait.
pray.
I'm restless in my skin.
I'm tired of feeling the same thing over and over and over. I'm tired of anticipation, but I don't think I'm ready for whatever it is I am anticipating.
I want the world to change.
I want to change the world.
I want to go, but it's not time for me to leave.
pray.
wait.
pray.
wait.
wait.
wait.
pray.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
City Notebooks
O sweet Moleskine notebook of my heart, you have gone and done it again ...
How Moleskine did you know that the only thing that I love more than your well-bound pages and smooth leather cover is maps?
My hearts twitters.
Monday, March 19, 2007
I Agree
This is a story from the Burnside Writers Collective. I've been a thrift guru for alot of year now, but never really thought about it in this way.
http://www.burnsidewriterscollective.com/social/2007/03/a_goodwill_emissary.php
I just want the world to change. I want to use every resource available to me to have a hand in that change.
http://www.burnsidewriterscollective.com/social/2007/03/a_goodwill_emissary.php
I just want the world to change. I want to use every resource available to me to have a hand in that change.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Neva Knows the Score, part 2
3. A Revolutionary Christian Woman is able to GIVE HER HEART AWAY TO OTHERS and then, someday, BLESS AND RELEASE those very same people that she has invested so much into.
This is how we accomplish the great commission.
“Partir c’est de mourir un peu.”
To part is to die a little.
Isaiah 49: 15, 16
Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me.
This point was especially poignant, as I am still trying to process how to engage and interact with my former roommates.
I love those women more than I love life. I would give anything they ever asked of me. Except that I haven’t been giving them very much of my time, and they haven’t been asking for much of it either.
I will admit that I felt a level of bitterness, and at times still do, as they moved into new homes of their chocie -- without me. But then, I started to notice that their lives weren’t precisely what I wanted. I doubt any of them missed a beat in their relationships with God, but in some ways they seemed to disconnect from the church, while my life was being consumed more and more by new activities and new people with whom to connect. I didn’t know how to balance the two, and I chose nearly full involvement with a new group of people, establishing a new group of core friends.
My old roommates hold a place in my heart that can never be filled by another set of people; they in fact are my very heart. By a "core group of friends," I mean people with whom I spend the majority of my time. I felt that God was leading me to be more involved in the campus ministry of our church, a group of people my old roommates have nothing in common with and would therefore never choose thehang out with them.
So in the new year, I fond myself in a new household with four women, all but one of whom I’d known less than a year. I knew that this situation would require a lot of trust in God on my part, because in a lot of ways I felt very exposed to the world. As soon as I moved in with these women, they would see me for who I really am, and I was sure they wouldn’t like me very much. My other fear – one even more selfish – is that I wouldn’t like them very much. Then, I thought, I would really be alone.
But God surprised me. I love my new roommates, and they love me. Yes, my life is drastically different now than it was six months ago, but if my life had remained the same, I would not have grown in the ways I have. I miss my old roommates, a lot, but I definitely see how God was working to make me more like Him. It’s one hard thing to live in a house with five other women. It’s another hard thing to be a leader of a house of five other women.
A side note: This time last year, although I knew I was no where near being ready to marry, I wanted so very much to be married. Now, even after three short months of “leading a household” I understand a lot more a (or at least I think I do) about what being a wife might entail, which is mostly always putting others before yourself (just like Neva says, she really does know the score), but God has completely removed my desire to be married -- anytime soon.
I really want to keep living this life that God has laid out for me. This life of partnering with my roommates to rescue those women who are staggering towards death. Something that I wouldn’t have event the faintest idea of how to do with out the years that my previous roommates built into my life.
I like that little French saying, that to part is to die a little. The day we moved out of our old house, a part of each of our hearts died a little, but the day I moved into my new house, I felt like a new part of my heart came alive.
If there is one lesson I continue to learn about the Christian life, it’s the act of dying to oneself. Christ died so the others may live, the ultimate mark that He is the one who is revolutionizing my life are the parts of that I let die so that he can give me new life. Usually I think of those as very personal private areas, but I think this time around he did it in a much more public way, so that he could receive the glory.
This is how we accomplish the great commission.
“Partir c’est de mourir un peu.”
To part is to die a little.
Isaiah 49: 15, 16
Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?
Though she may forget,
I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;
your walls are ever before me.
This point was especially poignant, as I am still trying to process how to engage and interact with my former roommates.
I love those women more than I love life. I would give anything they ever asked of me. Except that I haven’t been giving them very much of my time, and they haven’t been asking for much of it either.
I will admit that I felt a level of bitterness, and at times still do, as they moved into new homes of their chocie -- without me. But then, I started to notice that their lives weren’t precisely what I wanted. I doubt any of them missed a beat in their relationships with God, but in some ways they seemed to disconnect from the church, while my life was being consumed more and more by new activities and new people with whom to connect. I didn’t know how to balance the two, and I chose nearly full involvement with a new group of people, establishing a new group of core friends.
My old roommates hold a place in my heart that can never be filled by another set of people; they in fact are my very heart. By a "core group of friends," I mean people with whom I spend the majority of my time. I felt that God was leading me to be more involved in the campus ministry of our church, a group of people my old roommates have nothing in common with and would therefore never choose thehang out with them.
So in the new year, I fond myself in a new household with four women, all but one of whom I’d known less than a year. I knew that this situation would require a lot of trust in God on my part, because in a lot of ways I felt very exposed to the world. As soon as I moved in with these women, they would see me for who I really am, and I was sure they wouldn’t like me very much. My other fear – one even more selfish – is that I wouldn’t like them very much. Then, I thought, I would really be alone.
But God surprised me. I love my new roommates, and they love me. Yes, my life is drastically different now than it was six months ago, but if my life had remained the same, I would not have grown in the ways I have. I miss my old roommates, a lot, but I definitely see how God was working to make me more like Him. It’s one hard thing to live in a house with five other women. It’s another hard thing to be a leader of a house of five other women.
A side note: This time last year, although I knew I was no where near being ready to marry, I wanted so very much to be married. Now, even after three short months of “leading a household” I understand a lot more a (or at least I think I do) about what being a wife might entail, which is mostly always putting others before yourself (just like Neva says, she really does know the score), but God has completely removed my desire to be married -- anytime soon.
I really want to keep living this life that God has laid out for me. This life of partnering with my roommates to rescue those women who are staggering towards death. Something that I wouldn’t have event the faintest idea of how to do with out the years that my previous roommates built into my life.
I like that little French saying, that to part is to die a little. The day we moved out of our old house, a part of each of our hearts died a little, but the day I moved into my new house, I felt like a new part of my heart came alive.
If there is one lesson I continue to learn about the Christian life, it’s the act of dying to oneself. Christ died so the others may live, the ultimate mark that He is the one who is revolutionizing my life are the parts of that I let die so that he can give me new life. Usually I think of those as very personal private areas, but I think this time around he did it in a much more public way, so that he could receive the glory.
Neva Knows the Score, part 1
Marks of a Revolutionary Christian Woman
By Neva Whitney
First and Foremost
Am I a woman of the Word?
Am I a woman of prayer?
Am I a woman of fellowship?
1. A Revolutionary Christian Woman experiences JOY and PEACE, even in the most challenging daily trials.
It is not if we have problems, it is when ...
How will you respond?
Rebel?
Faint?
Complain?
Self – Indulge?
Or will you recognize that God has brought the trial for a purpose.
When faced with trials:
Pray. Ask God for endurance.
Don’t blame God, some trials are self-inflicted.
Don’t assume that just because I am a Christian, that all good things must come my way.
Remember, God is good and he cares.
James 1:2-4
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
1Peter 5:6-7
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
2 Corinthians 9:8
And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.
I am most impacted by the point of daily trials. I’ve seen my fair share of trials (pride!) so when women speak on this subject I often tune them out, because I figure I’ve already learned the key to perseverance through trials … keep your eyes on Christ, and keep on keepin’ on. (Pride! I have all the answers!)
But often times I view trials as an event. Some sort of major life change or something or other that somehow operates outside of the details of my daily life. Often, those details are what force me to persevere. In spite of scenario x I will get up and go to work, I will smile at my patients although they have no idea the thoughts in my head, I will arrive at church early and leave late, I will read my Bible, I will pray, I will praise God. Trials usually come in situations that are out of my control, so those little daily things are what I use to maintain control.
But right now, I’m definitely dealing with a daily trial. At this juncture in time, I hate my job and I feel like I’m wasting my time. Because I feel this way about my work, my job performance is starting to suffer. My boss has become aware of my apathy and there are consequences. Because of these consequences, I hate my job more, feel more like I am wasting my time, and care less about my work.
I think you can see where this is going.
I have no JOY at work, which is evident in my interactions with my co-workers which are remarkably different than my interactions with my friends. I do not daily have joy and peace. I daily have sorrow and anxiety and it’s affecting my life. I suppose I haven’t, until this time, seen the specifically as a trial. I’ve just seen it as crappiness.
My job provides me with excellent benefits, including reduced tuition at the University of Utah, so somehow in my mind, I see the lameness of my job as a trade off for the perks. It's a necessary evil I must endure in order to reap the benefits. But I’m not enduring it very well. I haven’t seen it as a way which God is trying to change me and refine me.
To me the process of refinement usually entails a choice. Will I choose my flesh? It’s an easier choice, to whine and complain to my friend, to get annoyed with my co-workers, to live in daydreams rather than reality, but the consequences are bad. I’m rebuked by my boss and my inclination toward anxiety and depression increases. This means that I must choose God. But since this is a trial that exists with I the very details of my life, one of the things that I use to get my through trials, I’m not sure how to do that.
2. A Revolutionary Christian Woman knows there is only one person she should FEAR and one person she should TRUST IN.
Psalm 25:12-15
Who, then, is the man that fears the LORD ?
He will instruct him in the way chosen for him.
He will spend his days in prosperity,
and his descendants will inherit the land.
The LORD confides in those who fear him;
he makes his covenant known to them.
My eyes are ever on the LORD,
for only he will release my feet from the snare.
3. A Revolutionary Christian Woman is HARDWORKING EVERYDAY and as much as possible is FAITHFUL IN ALL THINGS.
2 Corinthians 12:15
So I will very gladly spend for you everything I have and expend myself as well. If I love you more, will you love me less?
Sometimes it’s easier to give to those who love you and whom you love, BUT a woman who claims to fear God are ALWAYS servants to EVERYONE. And we serve our family and people not knowing how it will turn out.
Women who claim to fear God, CANNOT and WILL NOT be inconvenienced.
Whelp, this is pretty much my answer. Thanks God for nailing this one on the head.
Another result of my apathy at work is blatant laziness. If I believe what I do is not important, why should I bother doing it? That is the core of my issue at work right now. I don’t think my job is important (Pride! Whoever said I needed to have an important job?) , and I am too good to do it (pride!). But this is not what I’m called to.
Will all my heart I want to be a revolutionary Christian woman, so I must apply this principle, not waiting until a time when I have a job important enough to work hard at, but to work hard now to prepare me quite honestly for the handwork that I know is ahead of me (marriage, motherhood, CEO of a non-prof).
It’s true, it’s really easy for me to work hard to serve my roommates, to serve the boys in my small group, to prepare for various outreach events, because I will be edified by those whom I love. I guess the answer, or at least what God is revealing to me is to BUCKLE DOWN.
By Neva Whitney
First and Foremost
Am I a woman of the Word?
Am I a woman of prayer?
Am I a woman of fellowship?
1. A Revolutionary Christian Woman experiences JOY and PEACE, even in the most challenging daily trials.
It is not if we have problems, it is when ...
How will you respond?
Rebel?
Faint?
Complain?
Self – Indulge?
Or will you recognize that God has brought the trial for a purpose.
When faced with trials:
Pray. Ask God for endurance.
Don’t blame God, some trials are self-inflicted.
Don’t assume that just because I am a Christian, that all good things must come my way.
Remember, God is good and he cares.
James 1:2-4
Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
1Peter 5:6-7
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
2 Corinthians 9:8
And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.
I am most impacted by the point of daily trials. I’ve seen my fair share of trials (pride!) so when women speak on this subject I often tune them out, because I figure I’ve already learned the key to perseverance through trials … keep your eyes on Christ, and keep on keepin’ on. (Pride! I have all the answers!)
But often times I view trials as an event. Some sort of major life change or something or other that somehow operates outside of the details of my daily life. Often, those details are what force me to persevere. In spite of scenario x I will get up and go to work, I will smile at my patients although they have no idea the thoughts in my head, I will arrive at church early and leave late, I will read my Bible, I will pray, I will praise God. Trials usually come in situations that are out of my control, so those little daily things are what I use to maintain control.
But right now, I’m definitely dealing with a daily trial. At this juncture in time, I hate my job and I feel like I’m wasting my time. Because I feel this way about my work, my job performance is starting to suffer. My boss has become aware of my apathy and there are consequences. Because of these consequences, I hate my job more, feel more like I am wasting my time, and care less about my work.
I think you can see where this is going.
I have no JOY at work, which is evident in my interactions with my co-workers which are remarkably different than my interactions with my friends. I do not daily have joy and peace. I daily have sorrow and anxiety and it’s affecting my life. I suppose I haven’t, until this time, seen the specifically as a trial. I’ve just seen it as crappiness.
My job provides me with excellent benefits, including reduced tuition at the University of Utah, so somehow in my mind, I see the lameness of my job as a trade off for the perks. It's a necessary evil I must endure in order to reap the benefits. But I’m not enduring it very well. I haven’t seen it as a way which God is trying to change me and refine me.
To me the process of refinement usually entails a choice. Will I choose my flesh? It’s an easier choice, to whine and complain to my friend, to get annoyed with my co-workers, to live in daydreams rather than reality, but the consequences are bad. I’m rebuked by my boss and my inclination toward anxiety and depression increases. This means that I must choose God. But since this is a trial that exists with I the very details of my life, one of the things that I use to get my through trials, I’m not sure how to do that.
2. A Revolutionary Christian Woman knows there is only one person she should FEAR and one person she should TRUST IN.
Psalm 25:12-15
Who, then, is the man that fears the LORD ?
He will instruct him in the way chosen for him.
He will spend his days in prosperity,
and his descendants will inherit the land.
The LORD confides in those who fear him;
he makes his covenant known to them.
My eyes are ever on the LORD,
for only he will release my feet from the snare.
3. A Revolutionary Christian Woman is HARDWORKING EVERYDAY and as much as possible is FAITHFUL IN ALL THINGS.
2 Corinthians 12:15
So I will very gladly spend for you everything I have and expend myself as well. If I love you more, will you love me less?
Sometimes it’s easier to give to those who love you and whom you love, BUT a woman who claims to fear God are ALWAYS servants to EVERYONE. And we serve our family and people not knowing how it will turn out.
Women who claim to fear God, CANNOT and WILL NOT be inconvenienced.
Whelp, this is pretty much my answer. Thanks God for nailing this one on the head.
Another result of my apathy at work is blatant laziness. If I believe what I do is not important, why should I bother doing it? That is the core of my issue at work right now. I don’t think my job is important (Pride! Whoever said I needed to have an important job?) , and I am too good to do it (pride!). But this is not what I’m called to.
Will all my heart I want to be a revolutionary Christian woman, so I must apply this principle, not waiting until a time when I have a job important enough to work hard at, but to work hard now to prepare me quite honestly for the handwork that I know is ahead of me (marriage, motherhood, CEO of a non-prof).
It’s true, it’s really easy for me to work hard to serve my roommates, to serve the boys in my small group, to prepare for various outreach events, because I will be edified by those whom I love. I guess the answer, or at least what God is revealing to me is to BUCKLE DOWN.
Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice
As usual, I walked into the women’s retreat with a bad attitude.
I don’t know what it is, but I hate women’s activities. I think they are mostly dumb and unfulfilling. I would rather have my mind challenged through a stern teaching, than be coddled by special “women’s topics” about feelings and stuff.
First, let me clarify. My angst towards the world of women’s ministry has nothing to do with the biblical role of women and other controversial teachings that deal with the genders. I get it. I, like any other thinking woman have wrestled with these topics, what they mean for my life, and I have come to terms with the way the concepts of submission and obedience. But this is not a time for a treatise on gender roles in the church. Let’s such say, if the Bible says to do it, you’d better believe I will.
Back to my grumbling heart …
My pastor has this saying, “Where the feet go, the heart will follow.” So because I greatly dislike women’s activities, for the last few years, I’ve increased my involvement in service at women’s events in my church. This year, I managed in the fall to think it was a good idea to be on the planning committee for the spring women’s retreat.
And it wasn’t that bad.
I enjoyed the women I worked with and fully support the theme for the retreat, “The Marks of a Revolutionary Woman.” In the week prior to the retreat, my excitement for the teachings was really surprising me, I was actually looking forward to the women’s retreat. What sort of pansy had I become?
Until the morning of the retreat. I intentionally arrived late in order to avoid the scheduled morning fellowship time, but I knew I dare not miss the worship because my roommate’s band was playing. Still, when I walked into the church, I felt something seize my heart. It was pride.
Pride, I’m coming to understand is one of my greatest struggles, and the areas of my life that it wraps it’s tentacles around fascinate me.
A couple of nights earlier, I had a conversation with a friend about my opinion on women’s activities and why I hate them so much.
I laid out my reasons for my friend:
1)I don’t need women’s activities (pride!) because I have plenty of women in my life on a daily basis. I live with five of them. There is so much estrogen in my house that I love it when boys come over just so that we will stop sitting around talking about our feelings.
This one’s a little worse:
I don’t know what it is, but I hate women’s activities. I think they are mostly dumb and unfulfilling. I would rather have my mind challenged through a stern teaching, than be coddled by special “women’s topics” about feelings and stuff.
First, let me clarify. My angst towards the world of women’s ministry has nothing to do with the biblical role of women and other controversial teachings that deal with the genders. I get it. I, like any other thinking woman have wrestled with these topics, what they mean for my life, and I have come to terms with the way the concepts of submission and obedience. But this is not a time for a treatise on gender roles in the church. Let’s such say, if the Bible says to do it, you’d better believe I will.
Back to my grumbling heart …
My pastor has this saying, “Where the feet go, the heart will follow.” So because I greatly dislike women’s activities, for the last few years, I’ve increased my involvement in service at women’s events in my church. This year, I managed in the fall to think it was a good idea to be on the planning committee for the spring women’s retreat.
And it wasn’t that bad.
I enjoyed the women I worked with and fully support the theme for the retreat, “The Marks of a Revolutionary Woman.” In the week prior to the retreat, my excitement for the teachings was really surprising me, I was actually looking forward to the women’s retreat. What sort of pansy had I become?
Until the morning of the retreat. I intentionally arrived late in order to avoid the scheduled morning fellowship time, but I knew I dare not miss the worship because my roommate’s band was playing. Still, when I walked into the church, I felt something seize my heart. It was pride.
Pride, I’m coming to understand is one of my greatest struggles, and the areas of my life that it wraps it’s tentacles around fascinate me.
A couple of nights earlier, I had a conversation with a friend about my opinion on women’s activities and why I hate them so much.
I laid out my reasons for my friend:
1)I don’t need women’s activities (pride!) because I have plenty of women in my life on a daily basis. I live with five of them. There is so much estrogen in my house that I love it when boys come over just so that we will stop sitting around talking about our feelings.
This one’s a little worse:
2) I look at the older women in my church and don’t want their lives (pride!). I have a plan for my life that’s better, you see. When I’m their age my community will not consist only of my husband and children. I will still be involved in other, “important” things (pride!).
God is certainly changing my heart in this area. The key note speaker we invited to the retreat is a woman named Neva Whitney. She is the wife of one of the most influential pastors in the Great Commission Movement of Churches, and is the mother of seven adult children, all of whom live their lives committed to spreading the gospel. I look at her family and know that is I want. I want a husband who will lead our family and follow Christ with fervent passion. I want children (maybe not seven of them) who will live their lives for the purpose of the gospel and change the world around them. It is not inaccurate to say that Neva Whitney has influenced a generation of young adults by being a godly wife and mother. That’s important. Yep, it sure is.
But still, my heart was bitter that morning, looking around the room and seeing mostly married women. As my roommate led us in worship, my heart began to soften. Not by much, but just enough to recognize that I needed God if I was going to learn anything at all the day. So I scrawled this prayer in my journal:
Father, change me on this day. God take the crappy attitude I have about women’s stuff and let me learn. Father, steal my heart away today, because I’m all yours.
I can’t say that God answered that prayer in any sort of miraculous way, but I think He did take some of my pride away to enable me to learn.
God is certainly changing my heart in this area. The key note speaker we invited to the retreat is a woman named Neva Whitney. She is the wife of one of the most influential pastors in the Great Commission Movement of Churches, and is the mother of seven adult children, all of whom live their lives committed to spreading the gospel. I look at her family and know that is I want. I want a husband who will lead our family and follow Christ with fervent passion. I want children (maybe not seven of them) who will live their lives for the purpose of the gospel and change the world around them. It is not inaccurate to say that Neva Whitney has influenced a generation of young adults by being a godly wife and mother. That’s important. Yep, it sure is.
But still, my heart was bitter that morning, looking around the room and seeing mostly married women. As my roommate led us in worship, my heart began to soften. Not by much, but just enough to recognize that I needed God if I was going to learn anything at all the day. So I scrawled this prayer in my journal:
Father, change me on this day. God take the crappy attitude I have about women’s stuff and let me learn. Father, steal my heart away today, because I’m all yours.
I can’t say that God answered that prayer in any sort of miraculous way, but I think He did take some of my pride away to enable me to learn.
Following are the actual teachings, along with some of the lessons I took home that weekend. Despite my pride, God is good to me.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Fan Numero Uno
Last night Sierra and I met Lovedrug!!
Well, really we met Michael Shepard and the other guitar player, but Michael is prett much Lovedrug, so you know, we met Lovedrug!
Let me explain: Lovedrug is my favorite band. In the universe. They are so good that I can already rule out any future Martian or Venetian music with out even giving it a chance.
So, my favorite band in the universe came to town, and I was there in the front row. Somehow during the course of the night I reverted back into adolescence, if you watched my actions alone, without looking at the stage, you might have thought I was actually watching my long beloved New Kids on the Block. Okay, I wasn't that bad, I didn't cry or anything. But ...
When Lovedrug was on stage doing sound check Michael was setting up his piano right in front of us, Sierra and I giggled together at his presence when she said, "Say something to him." We bickered a moment over what to say, and who should say it, when finally holding her hand, I counted "1, 2, 3 ... Hi Michael!" Yep.
At the sound of his name, Michael looked into the crowd, slightly confused, or mayhaps irritated. Hard to say. To catch his eye, I waved fervently. I might have jumped up and down too, I'm not quite sure. He say me, smiled awkwardly and waved back. For lack of anything else to say, I shouted "We love you guys!" Yep. I turned fourteen just then. Fourteen year olds aren't really known for their social tact.
I didnt' have the time to explain to him that my love of his band has nothing to do with him personally, I'm sure he's great and all, or maybe he's a jerk. It doesn't really matter to me either way. The music he makes has changed my life (dramatic, I know) and is nearly as important to me as Jesus. I'm sure my stalker-like shout from the crowd explain that clearly.
I can't really go into detail about the show. I don't have words to explain it. They are amazing musicians, and actually sound better live than the do recorded. And they are passionate when they perform. Michael in particular doesn't even open his eyes during a song to see the crowd because he so thoroughly absorbed in song. It was tremendous.
As they left the stage, I turned to Sierra and expressed my wishes that they would be at their merch booth. Then I squeezed my eyes shut and aloud said, "Dear Jesus, please let them be at their merch booth. Please." I meant it too.
Sierra and I parted ways to go check on various friends. Chatting with a few people about the overall awesomeness of Lovedrug, my pocket vibrated. It was a text from Sierra, "Talking to Michael. Get to the booth." I ran. I've always had a theory about that venue in paticular, there is only one exit, and while barrelling through a crowd after a show, I've often had the thought that if there were ever a fire there, everyone would die. Turns out, when there is something important at hand, one can make pretty good time through that venue.
I pushed my way through the small crowd behind Sierra at the table exclaiming, "It's okay. I'm her friend." Because that clearly gave me authority to cut in line. Then there he was. I caught my breath for a second because I couldn't believe it. Jesus had answered my prayer. Then I blurted out. "We're going to see you in New York!" Michael smiled and said, "Yeah, that's what she said." We both looked awkwardly at each other. Then I became fourteen again, although I tried really hard to hide it this time.
"I know this is cliche, but I just want you to know that you are genuinely my favorite band in the entire world, and I genuinely love your music with all that is within me." Yep. I said all that is within me. Pretty smooth, eh?
We chatted for a few mintues, the guitarist was much more talkative, and they both signed our tickets stubs. It was strange, because he fully didn't know how to have a conversation with his fans. He seemed uncomfortable. But he did like my David Bowie t-shirt.
We said good-bye, and that we'd see them in New York, and walked away from the table. Sure, I wasn't best friends with them leaving that night, and maybe they won't remember us in New York. But I met someone who has impacted my life, and I was able to express that to him. And Jesus answered my prayer. That's a thought I could write pages about, the simple rewards and blessings that God gives us, that God gives me, simply because he loves me. There is no doubt in my mind that last night was one of them.
Well, really we met Michael Shepard and the other guitar player, but Michael is prett much Lovedrug, so you know, we met Lovedrug!
Let me explain: Lovedrug is my favorite band. In the universe. They are so good that I can already rule out any future Martian or Venetian music with out even giving it a chance.
So, my favorite band in the universe came to town, and I was there in the front row. Somehow during the course of the night I reverted back into adolescence, if you watched my actions alone, without looking at the stage, you might have thought I was actually watching my long beloved New Kids on the Block. Okay, I wasn't that bad, I didn't cry or anything. But ...
When Lovedrug was on stage doing sound check Michael was setting up his piano right in front of us, Sierra and I giggled together at his presence when she said, "Say something to him." We bickered a moment over what to say, and who should say it, when finally holding her hand, I counted "1, 2, 3 ... Hi Michael!" Yep.
At the sound of his name, Michael looked into the crowd, slightly confused, or mayhaps irritated. Hard to say. To catch his eye, I waved fervently. I might have jumped up and down too, I'm not quite sure. He say me, smiled awkwardly and waved back. For lack of anything else to say, I shouted "We love you guys!" Yep. I turned fourteen just then. Fourteen year olds aren't really known for their social tact.
I didnt' have the time to explain to him that my love of his band has nothing to do with him personally, I'm sure he's great and all, or maybe he's a jerk. It doesn't really matter to me either way. The music he makes has changed my life (dramatic, I know) and is nearly as important to me as Jesus. I'm sure my stalker-like shout from the crowd explain that clearly.
I can't really go into detail about the show. I don't have words to explain it. They are amazing musicians, and actually sound better live than the do recorded. And they are passionate when they perform. Michael in particular doesn't even open his eyes during a song to see the crowd because he so thoroughly absorbed in song. It was tremendous.
As they left the stage, I turned to Sierra and expressed my wishes that they would be at their merch booth. Then I squeezed my eyes shut and aloud said, "Dear Jesus, please let them be at their merch booth. Please." I meant it too.
Sierra and I parted ways to go check on various friends. Chatting with a few people about the overall awesomeness of Lovedrug, my pocket vibrated. It was a text from Sierra, "Talking to Michael. Get to the booth." I ran. I've always had a theory about that venue in paticular, there is only one exit, and while barrelling through a crowd after a show, I've often had the thought that if there were ever a fire there, everyone would die. Turns out, when there is something important at hand, one can make pretty good time through that venue.
I pushed my way through the small crowd behind Sierra at the table exclaiming, "It's okay. I'm her friend." Because that clearly gave me authority to cut in line. Then there he was. I caught my breath for a second because I couldn't believe it. Jesus had answered my prayer. Then I blurted out. "We're going to see you in New York!" Michael smiled and said, "Yeah, that's what she said." We both looked awkwardly at each other. Then I became fourteen again, although I tried really hard to hide it this time.
"I know this is cliche, but I just want you to know that you are genuinely my favorite band in the entire world, and I genuinely love your music with all that is within me." Yep. I said all that is within me. Pretty smooth, eh?
We chatted for a few mintues, the guitarist was much more talkative, and they both signed our tickets stubs. It was strange, because he fully didn't know how to have a conversation with his fans. He seemed uncomfortable. But he did like my David Bowie t-shirt.
We said good-bye, and that we'd see them in New York, and walked away from the table. Sure, I wasn't best friends with them leaving that night, and maybe they won't remember us in New York. But I met someone who has impacted my life, and I was able to express that to him. And Jesus answered my prayer. That's a thought I could write pages about, the simple rewards and blessings that God gives us, that God gives me, simply because he loves me. There is no doubt in my mind that last night was one of them.
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