A Year in the Can

I don't really want to reflect back on this year. It happened, I hated most of it, move on.

But as with every year, there were parts I didn't hate. Parts I actually really liked, in fact. I don't keep a regular diary, but I do jot down a few highlights from each day. This has been extremely helpful, because I can look back on things and get an idea of my mindset at the time. It also helps me see just how much work I've been able to accomplish and remember happier times. 

This year, of course, has run the gamut. Much of my joy comes from going places and hanging out with people, both things of which I experienced little. But I was able to find new things that gave me joy and kept my mind fairly intact. As Iago said in "Aladdin," you'd be surprised what you can live through. 

There's one photo that really sums up a large part of my year. 

That's about 3/4 of the medication I was prescribed this year and then either couldn't tolerate or didn't work as intended. It represents hundreds of dollars, days of dizziness and nausea, and weeks of frustration. I really didn't realize just how horrible I'd been feeling this year until I looked back over my calendar - I have a shorthand for health (which says a lot in itself), and just about every week had at least 2 days that indicated that it was a bad day. And that's all before I started developing hardcore anxiety. Which necessitated even more med trials. 

Last year, on New Year's Eve, I was at my friend Lori's house. I felt awful. Very dizzy, very spaced out, nauseous, and just plain miserable. I feel 100x better this year than I did then. For that, I'm thankful. 

In 2019, I wrote down on thing every day that made me grateful. I think for 2021, since my theme is joy, I'm going to write down one thing every day (or week, whatever works) that brought me joy. I'm counting on you guys to hold me accountable for that. And I'm going to explore the definitions of joy a bit more. It's a feeling like no other. 

I pray that 2021 brings all of us bountiful blessings, great joy, and an abundance of common sense. 

Happy New Year!

A Decade of Service

10 years.

Crikey.

I told Patty Collins once that I wanted to make it to 10 years at OMS because then, when I die, I will make it into the Outreach In Memoriam section.

She told me I needed a better reason to stay.

Which, yeah, okay, that's probably true. And there's the whole "God called me here and won't let me leave" angle that we can talk about ad nauseum.

Ahem.

Anyway, the whole Outreach thing got me thinking - what exactly is going to end up in those 3-4 sentences?

It feels very "old white male politician" to be talking about my legacy. But that's where I find myself.

There's a temptation to talk about "the work." And the work is important. I've been in 3 distinct departments since I joined OMS in 2010. There have been aspects of each I've enjoyed. And there have been aspects of each that have been challenging. I'm a behind-the-scenes person. I like it that way. And while I've learned never to say never around here, it's unlikely that I'll ever be a front-line missionary. But the work I do supports people on the front lines. You can't fight a world war without your factories churning out B-52s and M16s.

But I don't want it to be all about the work. That reduces a life down to a series of metrics, and while useful for statistical purposes, they don't really tell you anything about a person. And as we all know, I'm all about the individual.

So I asked around. And as it turns out, people had some pretty nice things to say about me.

"You have a true passion for Christ that won't be swayed by uncomfortable topics and issues that might shake others."

"I am your #1 fan." (That might have been my sister.)

"You have always been obnoxious." (That might have been my other sister.)

"I am very proud of your work at OMS and your commitment to the Christian faith."

"She came, she served, she made a difference."

"You have allowed yourself to learn lessons that God is teaching you, even if you didn't really want to be taught."

And my favorite: "Lover of history, lover of swords, and most importantly lover of Jesus."

That sword thing came up a lot, oddly enough.

One definition of 'legacy' is a gift that is handed down from generation to generation. And I think I want my gift to be Jesus. There's a song by Casting Crowns that spells it out really well. 

All the kingdoms built, all the trophies won

Will crumble into dust when it's said and done

'Cause all that really mattered (is)
Did I live the truth to the ones I love?

Was my life the proof that there is only One

Whose name will last forever?

I don't want to leave a legacy.

I don't care if they remember me.

Only Jesus.

I've only got one life to live.

I'll let every second point to Him.

Only Jesus.

Let's face it. The idea of a legacy is getting some serious facetime in the news these days. Statues are being torn down, some of people who probably shouldn't have been immortalized, some of people who lived lives worthy of remembrance. All of them did good and bad things. But what counts is their legacy. Did they do something worthy of being emulated?

Here's what I want people to remember about me: She loved Jesus, and she encouraged others to do the same.

So what's next? Another 10 years? I have no idea. I didn't think I'd last this long in the first place, so I couldn't begin to speculate. I promised a long time ago (as referenced above) that I'd be here as long as God wanted me to be here. And if he needs me elsewhere, that's where I'll be.

Wherever the journey leads, I hope you'll be right there with me. I appreciate all of you (silent though many of you are), and I thank God that he has provided such excellent companions along the way. 

Here's to the next stretch... 

The Weekly Wrap-Up: January 28 - February 1, 2019

Well, now. This has been an interesting week. Some of it I can talk about, some of it I can't yet. But suffice to say, paradigms have shifted, things I thought true on Monday are not true on Friday, and I generally just don't know which end is up anymore.

Right.

Let's get the first thing out of the way - yes, it's cold this week. It was extremely cold. I still walked to work. My nose hairs froze. I questioned why I live in Indiana.

Then I got over it like all rational people should. It's Winter. This is what happens.

Lots of admin stuff this week. I had to get Korean ready for Marie and Spanish NVI created. We're publishing Spanish RVR right now, so NVI is partially dependent on that being done. And believe it or not, those abbreviations did not originate in ECC. They are actually Scripture versions. We started the Spanish translation with the RVR - essentially, the equivalent to the King James Bible. This is useful for some of our fields, but many of them asked for a more recent translation. Hence, the need to update the files with NVI. Fortunately, we were thinking ahead and actually separated all of the Scripture quotes from the rest of the text. So all we need to do is change those and we're golden. Everything else has already been translated into modern Spanish. But I still need to create files. So that's been fun.

(Of course, all of this is Latin American Spanish. We'll do a third Spanish translation for Spain Spanish. We have the same issue with Portuguese and French. Portuguese actually has three potential venues - Brazil, Mozambique, and Portugal. That also means three potential art sets. You didn't actually ask for any of this information, but I'm giving it to you anyway. So there.)

I had my Performance Review this week. You'll be happy to hear that no one has filed a complaint against me this year, so go me! Seriously, though, I think it went well. We have some goals for the year even, so we're ahead of the curve.

The Koreans were here this week for meetings. I always like hearing from them in chapel. We have a long history with the Korea Evangelical Holiness Church, and they do amazing things around the world. Plus, I'm trying to get some booklets done for them, so it's cool to chat with the folks who use the material.

I was reminded today that God works in ways we don't see and often has set things into motion long before we realize they are needed. Nothing comes as a surprise to him, and I will argue (and have argued) with any open theists out there who want to disagree.

Wow. That turned a little aggressive. Sorry. 

In Pursuit of Cold, Hard Truth

I'm not sure how to write about this. In a lot of ways, this will be the most personal thing I've written on here in a long time. But at the same time, it's really not personal at all. It's a pretty common thing that a lot of people have had to deal with in a lot of different ways. But it revealed some things about myself that I hadn't confronted in a while.

That's too cryptic. Look, the situation was this: I lost some money last week.

Here's how it happened.

On Tuesday, I was given cash by a friend for some work I'd done for them. This is always nice. It's supplemental income, nothing I count on, but a good bonus. I used some of it to pay another friend for work they'd done for me. I put the rest in my pocket.

Or on my desk.

Or in a drawer.

I didn't really think about it again until I was on my way home from work. It takes about a minute and a half to walk from the office to my apartment. I pretty much always use the same route. That day, I was carrying my usual stuff (phone, iPad, water bottle) and a bag of fabric and a dress. On the way, I remember thinking that I needed to put the cash in my box. (I have a saving system kind of like Dave Ramsay's envelopes, except nothing at all like it.)

Naturally, as is the way of things, I didn't think about it once I stepped through the door of my apartment. I had to try on the dress, plug electronics in, start dinner, get ready for exercise class - all the little things you do when there's a lot on your mind and you just go through the routine of life. Tuesday was already a bad day, and I just wanted to forget about stuff for a bit.

You're probably wondering why there's so much detail. Well, for the next five days, I agonized over every move I made on Tuesday. I worked it over in my mind, questioning everything I thought I remembered.

See, on Wednesday, I happened to think about that money. I couldn't remember putting it in my box, and I figured I should probably do that before I lost it. (Ha.) So I checked the key tray where I deposit stuff when I get home every day.

No cash.

I checked the couch, which is another depository.

No cash.

Piano keyboard. (Because who actually plays it when it functions much better as yet another shelf?)

No cash.

Well, duh, I obviously left it in the pockets of the pants I was wearing Tuesday.

No cash.

No, seriously, check again.

No cash.

Well, did I really put it in my pocket? I could have put it in my desk at work after paying my friend.

No cash.

At this point, it was raining, I was wet, and I was irritable. Could I have dropped it on my way home? No way to check in the dark and rain, and besides, it had already been a full day. Maybe I dropped it outside my apartment?

And here's where the story gets a little weird, because when I went to ask my neighbors about it, I found myself oddly reluctant to tell anyone I had lost this money. I felt I couldn't say anything to the whole building because the person who had given it to me also lived there. What would she say when she found out I lost the money she had given me for helping her? Is she going to question my stewardship abilities? My cleaning habits?

So I limited it to my immediate neighbors. But I couldn't let them know that I was really worried about this. That it was a huge issue involving a not-inconsiderable amount of money. So I kept my email light and airy. Just a vague inquiry.

And then I agonized about telling my family. We tell each other pretty much everything, but I was concerned about how it would come across. Are they going to think I'm asking them to send money to cover the loss? Am I actually telling them in the hope that they do that? What is my motivation in passing along this news?

You might be thinking that these are weird questions to ask. But for me, they make all the sense in the world. See, when I was younger, I was pretty manipulative. Nothing malicious (mostly), but I knew there were certain things I could do or say or imply that would bring about a result in my favor. And I struggled with this for a long time.

See, manipulation is a lot like lying. And it can get so deep and twisted that you start to believe your own manipulations are truth. I'm ashamed to say that I did this to my mom most often. We had a weird dynamic when I was younger, and manipulation would almost always work for reasons I won't get into.

I stopped the manipulation somewhere during high school. I was growing in my faith, and I knew that it was neither right nor healthy to keep doing this. I apologized to my mom, and we're better than we've ever been before.

But the impulse is still there. To imply that things are worse than they are in order to get more sympathy. To mention a missed opportunity in order to garner an invitation to an event. To moan about losing something in order to get a gift of said item.

I can usually ignore the impulse. But I always have to question my motives when I talk about certain things. I have to say no to things I want because it feels too much like a manipulation to get them. I had to learn how to ask for things I needed directly, and I had to learn how to take no as an answer.

Isn't it interesting how life lessons come in all shapes and sizes?

I ended up telling my sister on Wednesday. I felt I needed to tell someone, and she was most likely to offer what I really needed (empathy, prayer) instead of what I wanted (a bailout, pity party).

All week, I thought about the missing money. I looked for it on the sidewalks, in the grass, I checked my pockets fifteen more times. I deep-cleaned my apartment on Saturday thinking it had fallen in a crack somewhere.

No cash.

By this time, I was pretty resigned to having lost it for good. And I had to confront another issue: if I pray about this, what am I actually praying for? If I pray to find it and do, is this proof prayer works like a magical vending machine? What do I learn if I get what I want just by praying about it? If I pray to find it and don't, is it proof that prayer doesn't actually work at all? What good is prayer if you can't use it on the small stuff? If I don't pray about it at all, do I not have faith that God can move anthills as well as mountains?

Hope, as it turns out, is pretty hard to kill. Even as I was praying that the money would be a blessing to the person who'd found it, I was still hoping that that person would be me. I thought maybe it ended up in the lost and found, even though I wasn't sure we even had one. I didn't want to put out a company-wide notice for fear of sounding pathetic and inviting comment I didn't need or want. But I did stop by the building across from mine and asked if anyone had happened to find a 'small' sum of cash.

Finally, Saturday evening, with my apartment clean and all possible hiding places thoroughly searched, I concluded that the money was truly gone. I wasn't going to think about it any longer.

I did tell my mom about it, though. I was straightforward. I told her I was disappointed, but that I had accepted that it was gone. I had no expectations for anything but sympathy and an admonishment to keep an eye on things a little better next time. You know what she said?

"I'm going to pray that you find it."

Like it was just that simple. Like I hadn't been agonizing over whether missing money was something I should be praying about. Like I hadn't been questioning my own motivations and desires.

"You need this money. And I believe God will do this for you."

What do you say to that? 'Sorry, no, I've already decided this is not something to be selfish about. I'm going to accept the lesson and move on. Thanks anyway.'

No. My mother said she believed. And I wasn't going to stand in her way.

Sunday morning, there were doubts. But the sermon was about hope. The pastor said something that suddenly struck me right where I needed it.

(To paraphrase) "After the stock market crash in 1929; after the bombing of Pearl Harbor; after the Vietnam War, the Watergate scandal, the Cold War, 9/11, and after November 8 - God was and always will be on the throne. He has never not been in control. And we know that hope in him is never in vain."

Sure, it was about politics, but I can take a hint. All right, God. I get it. You're in control. Whatever happens.

Sunday night, I did laundry. As I pulled clothes from the washer to go into the dryer, I noticed something plastered to the wall of the machine.

Yep. You guessed it.

I had laundered my money.

First thing I did was talk to God. "Okay. You win. I was wrong. You were right. Thank you."

Then I called my mom.

"Didn't I tell you?" she said. "I knew you'd find it."

Was Jezebel Jesus' Great-Great-Grandma?

Let's talk about biblical genealogies.

No, wait! Don't go anywhere! This will be interesting, honest.

I hope.

So, as you know (I think I've mentioned it), I've been working my way through the Old Testament. I'd like to tell you that I've done an in-depth study several times in my life, but I haven't. Everyone focuses on the New Testament these days. But there is a gold mine in the Old Testament. And a lot of it is in text that everyone skips.

Be honest. Do you ever read through the lists of names in the Bible? Not just the begats and so forths. I first noticed something when I read Deuteronomy 33. You read it, right? Moses is blessing the tribes of Israel before he dies. Did you notice anything weird? Maybe count the number of names Moses mentions?

There are 11.

What's that you say? Jacob had 12 sons who became the 12 tribes of Israel? Yes, yes he did. And Moses left one tribe out of his blessing because of the crap they pulled during the exile.

(Bonus: Can you remember which one he left out and what they did?)

Anyway, that's why I started paying attention to lists of names.

Do they always make sense?

No. But I try.

So I was reading 2 Kings 8:26-27.

"Ahaziah was twenty-two years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem one year. His mother's name was Athaliah, a granddaughter of Omri king of Israel. He followed the ways of the house of Ahab and did evil in the eyes of the Lord, as the house of Ahab had done, for he was related by marriage to Ahab's family."

Ahaziah was a king of Judah. There were two kingdoms at this point, Israel and Judah. As you should know, all of the kings of Judah are descendants of David. Ahaziah's mother was Athaliah. She was the daughter of Ahab (probably). We learn this later in 2 Kings when reading about how she murdered all of Ahab's sons and tried to murder Joash (her grandson).

But learning she was the daughter of Ahab got me thinking. Does that also mean she was the daughter of Jezebel, Ahab's wife?

If so, then the subsequent line of Judah's kings have Jezebel blood running through their veins. And eventually, if you follow that line far enough, you get to David's ultimate descendant: Jesus.

Is Jesus a direct descendant of Jezebel?

(I haven't been hit by lightning, yet. Stick with me.)

In reading about Athaliah's massacre of Ahab's sons, we learn that he had at least 70.  And sure, Jezebel could have been a baby factory, but I'm willing to bet she didn't pop out 71ish children. Ahab very likely had concubines, possibly even other wives (though I'm not sure Jezebel would tolerate that).

So it's entirely possibly that Athaliah is NOT, in fact, the daughter of Jezebel. But she IS still the daughter of Ahab. And how is Ahab described?

"Ahab son of Omri did more evil in the eyes of the Lord than any of those before him." 1 Kings 16:30

In other words, he's super evil.

Now, granted, the line of Judah has more than a few sketch individuals. But something about the Son of God being related to Ahab makes my skin crawl.

So I turned to the genealogies of Jesus. Because while I'm reading the Old Testament, I'm also reading the New Testament.

Everyone knows there are two genealogies listed for Jesus. One is in Matthew. One is in Luke. And they have different names listed. These are used as evidence by skeptics that the Bible is inconsistent. There are also names missing (probably - there are just too few generations to account for all the time involved). I am not addressing the skeptics at this point other than to say - really? That's all you got?

The common position is that the genealogy in Matthew belongs to Joseph (because it includes Joseph's name and Matthew was writing to the Jews) and the one in Luke belongs to Mary. It makes sense (despite also listing Joseph) because the style of the time would have been to replace the mother's name with the father's name and then continue on with the mother's father.

Both Mary and Joseph are of the line of David. There was not a significant amount of inter-tribe marriage up to this point (though it did happen occasionally), and, as people knew the Messiah would appear out of the line of David, careful records were kept and bloodlines preserved.

But where do the lists of names diverge?

Right after David.

The line of kings went through Solomon, son of Bathsheba. But David had a lot of other children. (Seriously. A lot.) And in Luke's genealogy, just before David (because Luke went Joseph --> God while Matthew went Abraham --> Joseph) is the name Nathan.

Nathan is mentioned exactly four times in the Bible. In three of those four verses, he's listed with his brothers from the same mother. Nathan and Solomon were brothers. (Not sure of the order, and we never hear about the other two, but I like to think that Nathan was named after the prophet who told David he was being a tool.)

Remember when I talked about bloodlines before? It's important that both Mary and Joseph are from David's line because, while Joseph is not the bio-dad, fathers mattered a heck of a lot in Jewish society. If Mary had been from the tribe of Judah but Joseph had not, Jesus would have been listed as a member of Joseph's tribe and discounted. Conversely, if Joseph was from the tribe of Judah but Mary was not, people would jump all over that and say that, as Joseph was NOT the bio-dad, only Mary's blood counted, and again, Jesus would not be from the tribe of Judah, and he'd be discounted.

So. Both Joseph and Mary are from the tribe of Judah. Furthermore, they are definitely from the line of David. Joseph is descended from the line of kings. Mary is descended from the princely line. If the kingship was still around, Joseph would have a legitimate claim, and through him, despite not being Joseph's biological son (because Joseph acknowledged him and let everyone believe he was the father), Jesus also has a legitimate claim. But because Jesus is biologically Mary's and God's (however that works), he has no blood from the bad king Ahab.

Theoretically. I'm not going to say this is proven. It's just my interpretation.

But you see what kind of really fun rabbit trails you can get onto when you read the lists of names?

(Incidentally, as Nathan is the full brother of Solomon, this also means he's the son of Bathsheba. So as much as God hated what David did regarding Uriah, he also established the Messiah as a result of that act. I'm not touching that one with a ten foot pole.)

The Ultimate Conference Post

So.

Been a while.

Instead of posting multiple times during conference, I'm going to cover the highlights in one post. I do this as both a report and as an encouragement to entice you to join us at the next OMS conference. We had amazing opportunities, and it saddens me that more people weren't there to take advantage of them and to really rejoice in what God is doing around the world.

Nous le faisons.

I actually went up to conference, held at Indiana Wesleyan University in Marion, Indiana, earlier than most. As I was part of the planning team, stage dec team, Illuminate Experience team, etc., I went up on Wednesday to help get things set up.

People really have no idea how much work goes into conference. They can guess, but I guarantee they won't even come close. No matter how much prep you do before the event, at least 20 things will change when you actually get there, so you also have to be prepared to deviate from the original plan. I don't know how many times I ended up saying, "At this point, I'll take what I can get." Not to imply that the conference services staff at IWU were not prepared - there's just no way to keep track of everything.

Anyway.

The first job is always to unload the big moving truck. We packed it up on Tuesday. We have to hire a moving truck because we have a lot of rooms and events with a lot of stuff populating them. All of our stage decoration, the flags for the ceremony, nursery items, prayer room items, the IR items, signs - you name it, it ends up on the truck. 

For pretty much all of the rest of Wednesday, we worked on the stage. Foster had a really great idea to use furnace filters to make pillars. They were incredibly awesome. We've been painting them for the last three months, and then we had to tape them, and then we had to assemble them. Then place them. Then put lights in them. Then mirrors on top. Then take the mirrors off because they were too heavy. We changed our original idea slightly, but the whole stage presentation was incredibly awesome. And when I say all of the rest of Wednesday, I mean we got to our rooms around 11:30.

 

 And then we had to turn around and use most of Thursday to set up the Illuminate Experience. This was something brand new for OMS. Typically, we do a display room, so each region has a display with what is happening in their countries, or we highlight the funding project for conference, or something similar. But it always ends up being a pretty static room. This year, we wanted something more interactive. Thus, the Illuminate Experience was born.

We divided the room into three sections. The first section had our book tables and our photo opportunities. I was in charge of the photo ops with Lori. We came up with some pretty fun ideas, if I do say so myself. We had the SHNE letters so that people could be the 'I' and let everyone know that they were letting their light shine. We had a group option with the posterboard messages. And we had an Instagram sign. I was quite pleased.

The second room was also a lot of fun. Well, fun in the sense that it was meant to convey the reality that is the darkness in the world around us. I didn't get good pictures of everything, but you'll get the idea. On one side, we had a wall of news articles and photographs that reminded people of everything evil happening in the world today. Interspersed were Scripture verses about overcoming darkness. In the opposite corner, we had a station set up for people to write notes to missionaries, Christians, students, and others living in situations where they confront darkness every day. Then we had a light bright-esque board set up for people to light up places they were praying for, countries they served in or visited, and various other questions we asked. The effect was very cool.

In the very middle of the room, however, was the piece de resistance. Our maintenance guys built a maze of darkness. It was literally a dark maze that then took you to photographs of people still living in darkness, without the knowledge of a Savior. The quote at the end of the maze really hit home for me the urgency of the Great Commission and the dedication of missionaries to penetrate the darkness with the light of the Gospel.

Around the outside of the maze, we asked questions about how people could shine the light in their own lives. It was a very cool effect. 

The last section of the room gave people a chance to really understand how OMS is shining a light. Our Mobi team had a place to talk about opportunities to serve. We had a 'multiplication cage' of sorts. 

The first night, people put a paper in to symbolize themselves. 

The next night, they put in five more pieces of paper to symbolize the five people they would reach. 

The final night, we put in 25 pieces of paper to symbolize each person those five people would reach. It was a great word picture for multiplication.

We also had a place to talk about Train & Multiply, since multiplication is what we're all about. 

There was also food. Food is important.

Conference officially kicked off Thursday night. 

                      

    

First up was the flag ceremony, of which I was in charge. 

I was very proud of my flag bearers!

The Hunter Smith Band led worship throughout conference. Hunter Smith was a pro football player, but he also leads worship at his church, and he has a band. And their song "Indiana Moon" was chosen as the bicentennial anthem for Indiana. 

OMS President Bob Fetherlin gave the keynote address about the one billion vision. This is truly a God-sized goal, and we need all the help we can get from you and other partners in order to see this happen. 

I'll just give a few highlights from the rest of conference as there really was too much to cover completely. Dr. David Garrison joined us to talk about Muslim movements to Christ. The numbers are awe-inspiring. God is really on the move in the house of Islam. 

  We had a 5k to raise funds for our literacy program. I'm proud to say I completed all 3.1 miles!

 

 I also participated in the Great Adventure, which was a bit like 'Amazing Race' on TV. We didn't win, but we had fun! Turns out I have excellent rhythm. I was able to figure out a traditional Filipino dance. Ask me about it sometime.

On the last day, I got to help out with the children's program. Somehow, that was the day we had to sing on stage. Did I know the songs? No. Did I know the motions? No. But I can fake it with the best of them! #watermelonwatermelon

And that was pretty much it for conference. Like I said, there are so many other things that happened, it's hard to list them all here. Again, you should really consider joining us in 2018. 

So on Sunday afternoon, I went home and...

Wait, what?

I didn't go home?

Nope! Because after the OMS conference, I attended the Every Community for Christ WorldWide Coordinator's Seminar. Also at IWU in Marion. 

I had less to do for this one. Mostly behind the scenes stuff, taking photos and video, whatever needed to be done. I was there for another 4.5 days. 

Again, David Garrison was there to give us more information about the church planting movements happening around the world. He gave us a lot of encouragement and a lot of things to think about. Yes, the Church is moving forward in a lot of places. But it's being wiped out in others. 

We had participants from more than 30 countries and ministries partnering with ECC. Many of them are using Train & Multiply. A few are in security risk countries. Many more couldn't join us because they couldn't get visas. 

At the end of the conference, each ministry team created an action plan for the next ten years. They included a number that was their best estimate for how many people they thought they could give one significant opportunity to hear, understand, and respond to the Gospel in the next ten years. I counted them all up. That number is below. 

We have a lot of work ahead of us. 

Many Sons Had Father Abraham

I've heard a lot about Abraham lately.

My daily Bible reading took me through Abraham's story. 

The sermon on Sunday was all about Father Abraham.

And chapel today was about Abraham's journey from Harran.

I've heard this story a thousand times. 

But maybe I should be paying attention so I can learn something new.

There's a lot to learn from Abraham. First, there's his life of faith. We really don't know what he was doing for the first 75 years of his life. But I have to imagine that he had to at least be a little attuned to God's will and voice in order to listen so readily when God told him to do something so incredible at such a late stage in life.

But then Abraham (or Abram still at this point) makes conscious decisions to be stupid. He told at least two rulers that Sarai was his sister. And don't give me that crap about it being technically true. Those are the kinds of lies we reassure ourselves are okay to tell because technically, they're true. Technically, you're still being an ass.

And then there's the whole business with Lot. Abram was incredibly fair and patient with Lot, even as Lot picked up all of Abram's worst habits and few of his good ones. And Abram still rescued Lot, and even made an amazing friend out of the deal!

One of the things I like most about Abram is that he wasn't afraid to ask God questions. When God made the covenant, Abram was all about the details. He knew he was getting a sweet deal, and he made sure it was legally binding.

And then there's Ishmael. I, personally, believe that Abram was totally just being a man here. Should he have consulted God about what Sarai proposed? Absolutely. But he didn't. Because he's a man, and a nubile young woman was being offered to him on a platter. Or in a tent, but whatever. He's a man. And he totally copped out when it turned out that this was a really bad idea. (Shocking.) He couldn't help but love the kid, but I think he also later recognized that Ishmael was a constant reminder that he hadn't fully trusted God. (I think this is why he doesn't argue when God calls Isaac his only son.)

God wanted the legal business to go both ways. So He tells Abraham to undergo circumcision. Now, on Sunday, my pastor totally threw parents and the internet under the bus on what exactly this meant. I'm certainly not going into detail, either. But at 99 years of age, Abraham had to do a little snip-snip procedure. Later, when reading the story of Dinah, we learn that Schechem and all his friends were still in such pain three days after undergoing the same procedure that they didn't notice Simeon and Levi hacking them into even more pieces. (Sorry.) There's a reason it's done to children only a few days old now.

After God reminds Abraham again of the promised child, He tells Abraham that he's going to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. And Abraham pleads not once, not twice, but six times for mercy if a few faithful can be found. I don't know if Abraham thinks Lot has been preaching or what, but I do know that only four people walked away from Sodom and only three made it to the mountains. Most people would consider one question to be pressing his luck, but this mattered so much to Abraham that he presumed to speak before the Lord six times to ask if He was sure this was a good idea.

Finally, at 100 years of age, God fulfilled his promise through Isaac. Abraham waited more than 20 years for the fulfillment of this promise. Did he wait well? Not always. But he did wait. Sometimes, God waits a really long time before giving us our heart's desire. Sometimes, as in the case of Abraham becoming a great nation, we never see the results of a promise. But we still have to have faith that it's going to happen.

There's one more reason to admire Abraham. He had enjoyed several years with his child, teaching him trades and telling Isaac that he was a fulfillment of God's promise. And then one night, God told Abraham to take his only son, whom he loved, and sacrifice him as a burnt offering. The Bible moves on in the story to the next morning, but I've always wondered what the rest of that night was like for Abraham. Did he question it? Did he consider disobedience? I don't know. But the next morning, he took Isaac, the boy who God had promised would be the start of a great nation, and they traveled to the place of the sacrifice. Hebrews tells us that Abraham believed God would raise Isaac from the dead, but there is still a huge amount of faith that goes into this? Even if he did kill Isaac, and God raised him from the dead, Abraham would still have to live with the fact that he'd killed his son. That's huge.

But of course, Abraham passed the test. Whatever mistakes he'd made, he ultimately trusted God more than anything. And maybe that's the lesson to be learned. No matter how much we think we have things under control, our first impulse should be to trust God and inquire of Him what our next step should be. 

Love Your Enemies

"You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." Matthew 5:43-48 (NIV)

I don't know many people outside of TV shows who have real, personal enemies. Most of us have people who annoy us, sure, but would we go so far as to call them an enemy? And yeah, we have distant enemies - people who want to destroy us for ideological, religious, or cultural reasons. But the majority of us will never encounter these people face-to-face.

I have a tendency to ignore these verses. As time goes by, however, I'm realizing more and more why that is a really bad idea.

In many ways, this is the most radical thing Jesus ever said. And he said it at a time when Israel had a lot of enemies, and most of them lived right there with them.

I like Jesus' "you have heard" statements. There was a glut of fancy sayings going around at the time. I liken it to the Calormenes in The Chronicles of Narnia, especially in The Horse and His Boy. They were constantly sprinkling 'wise' sayings into their overly formal speech, all in an effort to convince everyone that they knew more than they really did. In reality, it was borrowed wisdom. Even now, every political speech borrows rhetoric from someone who said it better before who borrowed it from someone who probably borrowed a bastardized version of someone else's words. The Pharisees were famous for their little creeds and rules. People really had heard these things before, probably ad nauseum. 

Interestingly enough, however, as so often happens, what they heard was not what was originally said. They heard, "Love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But where does that even come from? Well, the first part comes from Leviticus 19. In the midst of God's instructions to the people of Israel was an admonition to "love your neighbor as yourself." Cool. Makes sense. But what about the rest of it?

See, the Pharisees had this nasty habit of "fixing" what they considered to be ambiguous instructions. For example, let's say God had told the people of Israel not to sit in a particular style of chair for longer than two hours. It's a good rule because any longer, and that style would screw up your back. But how to enforce something like that? Well, you tell people that that style of chair is evil, an abomination in God's eyes. Also, anyone who would own a chair like that is evil. So, we ban the chair. All because of an instruction designed to help people's posture. (Yeah, it's an extreme example, but it works.)

So, God told people to love their neighbors. Makes sense. People who live together should get along. But the opposite of love is hate. And if doing one thing is good, then following it to its natural conclusion is better, right? It's natural to have a beef with someone who is against you. Even David prayed for God to kill his enemies.

(You're about to tell me that David also smashed babies' heads against rocks. I'm fully aware. Do I completely understand it? No. But I understand some of it. Continue reading.)

The Israelites lived according to the law. The whole world lived according to the law. The law is black and white. Do this. Do not do that. And according to the law, God is perfect. Man is not. It is entirely within God's character to instruct Joshua to wipe out the people of Canaan. They had no interest in following the law, and God knew that if they were left alive, they would corrupt his chosen people. (And guess what happened.)

The problem comes when you realize that man cannot in any way, shape, or form keep the entire law. It's impossible. We saw it time and again with Israel. They'd toe the line for a little while and then BAM - back to pursuing the world.

And then Jesus comes along with his "you heard" statements. "Look, you tried it this way," he says. "It ain't working. So let's do it the way it should be and could have been if you'd listened from the start."

And the way it should be? Grace.

Here's the thing about enemies. They are people. They see the sun, feel the rain, they live in the same world as you and I. They are human. And humans were created in the image of God. God loves them. So why can't we?

I will tell you right now, it won't make one bit of difference to most of our enemies if we love them or not. They won't care that we're praying for them. In fact, that may make them hate us even more. It might even make your friends hate you. I got into a Facebook discussion about the refugee crisis last year, and I found myself making the statement that even if I got a grenade in exchange for bread, I still had to offer it. It was a shattering realization. I had to decide if I actually believed that.

Love your enemy. The most terrifying enemy I can think of right now is ISIS. If they ever came after me or my family, could I show them love? Could I pray for them, knowing that they killed a family member or raped a daughter?

I believe there are such things as righteous wars. I believe there are certain people who are so dangerous to others that they should be stopped at whatever personal cost.

But it can't be done out of hatred. And that's why the second part of that verse is key. We're to pray for those who persecute us.

Why? Do those people stop persecuting us if we start praying for them? Does God change his mind and rescue us from certain death? It probably won't make any difference to the people doing the persecuting whether we pray for them or not. And God doesn't change his mind. Whatever needs to happen will happen.

But prayer isn't for the benefit of others. I like the way C.S. Lewis put it: "I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I’m helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time- waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God- it changes me."

We pray for those who persecute us because it helps us in turn to love them.

At the end of those verses, Jesus told us to be perfect. Another translation is to be holy. Complete sanctification. (There's a debate among Christians about whether or not it's possible to be completely sanctified in this life. Personally, I believe it is. Jesus told us to be holy by being like him, and if it wasn't possible, I don't think he would have said it. Do I think anyone has ever actually achieved this? No. But the point is to try.) Part of being perfect is reaching the point where, through Jesus Christ, we can love our enemies.


I'm still thinking on this one. Part of the point of this blog is to work out what I'm thinking by writing it down. I'm not saying it's completely theologically or doctrinally sound. But it's where my head is right now. I invite productive discourse. 

Expecting the Unexpected

When we send missionaries around the world, there are certain things we expect to happen.

We expect them to share the Gospel. We expect them to teach English or give out tracts or teach school. We expect them to plant churches and raise their families and have good relationships with other mission agencies. Occasionally, we expect them to deal with resistance from the government or neighbors or fringe groups.

We do not expect them to suddenly be in the middle of a war.

We do not expect them to suddenly have thousands of refugees on their doorstep.

We do not expect them to suddenly evacuate because of a giant tsunami.

These are all things that could happen anywhere. And in the back of our minds, we sort of understand that. And we maybe have 12% of a plan if something did happen. (Unless it's zombies. Our plan then is to find the nearest teenager and follow their very detailed plan.)

But it's different when you're not home. At home, you have a support system, you have friends and family, you understand the context and the history and the culture.

As a field missionary, you very deliberately do not have these things.

So it might be understandable that, when faced with things we don't expect, we may hesitate or panic because there is no plan.

Except, consistently, missionaries don't do that.

For the last year and more, our missionaries in Ukraine have been in a war zone. They have concerns, but even when it looked like we might need to bring them home, they asked to stay. Because people still need Jesus.

Monday, we Skyped a missionary who was literally in the field at a refugee camp in Hungary. They had very few resources to deal with thousands of refugees. They will see these people for maybe ten minutes or an hour. They do not speak their language. But they are giving them everything they have. Because these people need Jesus.

Back in 2011, a tsunami swept across the coast of Japan. Most of our missionaries were on a retreat in the mountains. But almost immediately, they started taking supplies to those who were left. Years later, when a lot of organizations have pulled out, our missionaries are still serving. Because people still need Jesus.

Nowhere in any of these missionaries' job descriptions does it say anything about war, refugees, or floods. But they never hesitate. If they panic, they hide it pretty well. They just do what Christians anywhere should do.

They be the hands and feet of Jesus.

How awesome is that?

Threshold

"You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you," said the lion. 

~ C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

The Silver Chair is not my favorite of the Chronicles of Narnia. In fact, the first time I read it, I came close to hating it. It felt like a very different book from what I had read previously. I loved the Pevensies, and they were nowhere to be found except in passing. I had a hard time following the plot and figuring out where the three heroes were, especially when they are Underland. Puddleglum was odd, Eustace was a bit useless, and Jill had an appalling memory. And then when they found Rillian, everything got a bit weird. My initial skepticism of this particular chronicle was not helped in the slightest by the BBC film. I'm hoping the new one will be a vast improvement.

Contrast this with my feelings on The Horse and His Boy. I can make a very good case for this being my favorite of the series, despite it falling under many of the same categories as The Silver Chair. It still feels like a very different book, because you start in Calormen and take forever to actually reach Narnia. The Pevensies are there, but in the height of their reign. The heroes are a boy with questionable judgment, a Calormene girl, and horses. If anything, this book should be last on my list. After all, C.S. Lewis basically wrote fan fiction about his own universe. (Actually, maybe that's why I like it so much. I love exploring the construct of a universe. Anyway.)

As with many things, however, I have grown to appreciate The Silver Chair more as I have grown. 

That's not what this post is about.

This post is about that quote up there, the one at the beginning. Narnia is, of course, largely allegorical, with Aslan (the lion) standing in for Jesus Christ. (Lewis, interestingly, denied that his stories were allegorical in nature, instead referring to them as 'supposals.' Suppose a world such as Narnia existed, where animals can talk and nature is much more important. How would God redeem such a world?) The Emperor Over the Sea is God the Father, who has a very hands-off role in the Chronicles, and the role of the Holy Spirit is usually filled by Aslan. 

Now, it's entirely possible to read too much into the parallels of faith between this world and Narnia. There are a few things I would be hesitant to embrace should they be taken to their natural conclusions, chief of which (for me) is the role of the young Calormene soldier in The Last Battle who faithfully serves the false god Tash but still ends up in True Narnia. There is a disturbing spirit of universalism in this passage, whether Lewis intended it that way or not. 

I'm getting off track again. 

I want to analyze just this one line, keeping in mind that it may not translate to Christianity at all.

But I'm pretty sure it does.

I want to start with the ways it bothers me, just because I think I'll end up on the other side of this fence.

I think part of my issue is related to why I loathe the silent drama that churches like to put on to "Everything" by Lifehouse. You know the one.  Partly, it's because I don't like the whole mime thing. It creeps me out. Also, it's too long. But mostly, it's because they always portray it as the young girl straining and straining to get to Jesus, and Jesus takes too darn long to bust some heads and get to her. I understand the whole get-distracted-by-the-world thing and the turning-your-eyes-from-Jesus thing. But in the depths of my despair, when I cry out earnestly for God to rescue me, unless I'm in Hell, Jesus is going to answer me, and not with a 'yeah, this song is really long so give me two more minutes.'

So I'm bothered by the implication that we aren't crying out for God on our own.

But that's where my old nature and lack of understanding come in. Because this is really a moot point. It's not even a chicken and egg situation. Before everything, God. Did he want the Fall to happen? No. Did he know it would? Yes, so he planned accordingly. Could he have prevented it? Undoubtedly. But only by creating beings without free will, and what's the point of creating something that can't think for itself?

Ooo, my Arminian side is showing. Don't worry, Calvin is lurking right around the corner. But not Hyper Calvin. That guy's crazy. (And let's not get on the subject of angels. For now.)

So, God knew we were going to choose evil. It's what we do. And he knew it would separate us from him. So he built in a way to draw us back to himself. Because his desire from the beginning was fellowship with us.

From the beginning, he was calling to us. Peter (the apostle, not the king) said it best. He tells us that God doesn't want anyone to perish, but for all to desire and pursue a relationship with God.

The interesting thing in The Silver Chair is that Aslan does not rescue Eustace and Jill right away when they start calling to him. They first have to make their way to the door in the garden. And here's where the parallels could get incredibly deep and technical, but I see it very simply.

A lot of people call on God. There's a reason "no atheists in foxholes" is a saying you often hear. God doesn't want anyone to perish, and calling on God is important, yes. But just believing in a vague notion of a supreme being and asking for its help when you're in a jam isn't enough. When we call on God, he shows us how to get to him, and it's not always easy, but it is very clear. There is one path, one door - and until we take the steps of repentance and faith, we won't be in fellowship with God.

I feel like I'm dancing around a point here, and I may have lost the plot a bit. Let's go back to what bothered me. I was bothered by the implication that man doesn't cry out for God on our own.

But the truth is, we don't. If there weren't evidence of God in this world, what would we appeal to? Would we appeal to nature? That quickly reveals itself to be fickle and unreliable. Would we appeal to man? I've seen a lot of people appealing to the better nature of man, and guess what? That, too, fails. We have nothing good in this world except what comes from God.

The only thing we can appeal to that will never change, that is True and Just and on whom we can rely, is God. And we can appeal to him because he so desperately wants us that he's been revealing himself to us for all of time.

We just have to answer his call. 

My Lenten Journey

For quality control purposes, I am writing this throughout the Lenten season, but not posting until after Easter. So if you've been wondering why I haven't been posting, this is why. Keep an eye on dates.

Ash Wednesday, February 18
I'm feeling a little anxious. Today marks the beginning of Lent. According to Wikipedia, "the traditional purpose of Lent is the preparation of the believer through prayer, penance, repentance of sins, almsgiving, atonement, and self-denial." It is a commemoration of the forty days that Jesus spent fasting in the desert before he was tempted by Satan. There are a great many historical, theological, doctrinal, and denominational considerations when it comes to Lent, and over the years, it has come to mean different things to different people. But the common practice in the U.S. (or at least the part I'm familiar with) has been to focus on self-denial, such as giving up something treasured in order to bring one's self more in line with the will of God.

Of course, many of the people I know give up something like chocolate or soda almost jokingly or as an afterthought, and the sacrifice really doesn't make much of a dent in their lives. (I'm over-generalizing, I know. I'm sure you all gave up very personal things. Or you figured that, not being Catholic, Anglican, Eastern Orthodox, or Lutheran, you really don't feel pressured to practice Lent.) I've done similar things in the past. I gave up soda a few years ago, and some years, I just didn't bother.

This year is different, and the reason why leads to the aforementioned feelings of anxiety. Pursuant to a previous post (Saturation Point), I feel compelled to give up something a little more dear to me. (In the interests of full disclosure, I'm also giving up soda again. Mostly because I need to. Sugar is bad.) You'll recall I was feeling overwhelmed with the sheer amount of input from media and internet sources. So I decided to do something about it. For the next six weeks, the time that I previously spent on TV and movies will now be devoted to meditating on God.

It's a good thing. But I'm trepidatious. I've never really thought about how much time I spend on movies and television. And YouTube. And funny videos on Facebook. And news reports. And Google doodles! Okay, so it's everywhere. And I'll be going out of my way to avoid it all for the next sixish weeks.


Friday, February 20
I'm going crazy. It shouldn't be this hard, right? But I think about it constantly. I almost unconsciously reach for the iPad or remote to watch a show. I didn't realize how pervasive it is. Or I did, but not to what degree. And it's not just television itself. It's the little videos on Facebook and the articles with illustrating video. Why can't I turn off my brain?!


Sunday, February 22
Yesterday was both easy and hard. It snowed, a lot, which meant there was no going outside, no errands, nothing but me in my apartment for ten hours straight. I had planned for this somewhat because I knew I needed to do some cleaning and organizing, maybe get rid of some things I don't really use.

But this is one of my issues. I'm a multi-tasker. I can't stand doing just one thing at a time. And for me, television is a way to quiet part of my brain so I can focus on something else while still fulfilling the requirement to do more than one thing.

So normally, I would pop in a movie or show and use that as my background for cleaning. This option being unavailable threw a wrench into the plan. But then I had a brilliant idea. I have some audio books that I've been meaning to listen to, and that usually means a car ride to Pennsylvania or Michigan. But this was the perfect opportunity. So, for seven hours, I listened to Cary Elwes tell me about filming The Princess Bride while I got my clean on.

It was wonderful.


Tuesday, February 24
I didn't just give up movies and TV and then sit around stewing about it. The point of Lent is not to focus on the thing you sacrificed, but to use those thoughts to point you to the One worth every sacrifice. So I've been reading through one of YouVersion's devotional plans designed for Lent, called ReThink Life.

Sunday's message was spot on. "We live in a world and a culture that is constantly pushing its agenda, and so many times it is pretty much the opposite of the life that God is calling us to live as Christ-followers." What we watch, what we consume, can have a profound impact on how we view life. And let's face it, most of what the world produces does not send a message we should be listening to. We can tell ourselves that we won't let it affect the way we live our lives, that we won't accept the 'bad stuff.' But we're just fooling ourselves. The more we allow it into our lives, the more we start to reflect the world's values.


Wednesday, February 25
I'm starting to not think about it all the time. Just every other hour. One of my issues is that I hate leaving things unfinished. And I'm in the middle of a lot of shows. Like, a lot a lot. Which should be proof positive that I needed the break. There are too many to keep up with. Really, I should only start shows that are already completed. Cliffhangers give me anxiety.

I've been pleasantly impressed with myself, though. I have resisted temptation.


Sunday, March 1
So, there's this tradition or dispensation or ordinance that says you can take Sunday off from whatever your fast is and indulge. It's like fasting from meat but eating fish on Fridays (or beaver tail, if you're from Wales - long story). This feels like cheating to me. It's like 'suffering for the Lord' during the week and then ignoring God on Sunday so you can get hopped up on whatever you're sacrificing. I don't judge others who indulge (okay, I do a little), but I don't want to get into that mindset where you allow just a little bit, and then a little bit more, and before you know it, you've bought the t-shirt and are drinking the kool-aid.

I may have mixed a few metaphors.


Monday, March 2
Did you know some restaurants have TVs? This makes life harder.


Tuesday, March 3
So not only can't I watch the latest episode of Castle. I'm also missing adorable cat videos, John Oliver's rants, and the new Avengers trailer. Truly, I am suffering greatly. But this is good for me. Really.


Thursday, March 5
Today's devotional thought was about priorities. I've been thinking a lot about that as I've been without television. Now, I don't watch what is commonly called 'appointment TV.' Gone are the days where, if you want to watch the latest NCIS, you have to be in front of your television at 8:00 on a Tuesday night. I can watch a day later or a month later. But TV still takes up time. I still prioritize it over other things. Is it eternally important? No. Is it therefore bad? Still no. But it's not, and should not be, the most important thing.


Saturday, March 7
So I've been talking a lot about how difficult it's been to not be watching television or movies. But I think I also mentioned that I had given up soda. And that's not been super hard. Until today. I had to wake up a bit early for practice, foolishly didn't eat anything, and then swung bells around for two hours. By the end, I needed a pick-me-up. It's the first time that I've craved something caffeinated since Lent began. I was not anticipating this particular struggle.


Sunday, March 8
Here's another good thought from the devotional: "When we submit ourselves to God, we position ourselves to be in alignment with what he desires for us. It allows us to say 'no' to the good and 'yes' to the best." This is also a Franklin Covey concept and the subject of the book "Good to Great." The idea is that we have to say no to some things that really are good ideas so that we can say yes to the truly great ideas. Think about it. If you know God is prompting you to do something, and you do something else, that doesn't mean he's done with you. And things may not totally fall apart, either. Following your own plan could be perfectly all right. But why would you settle for 'all right' when you can have fantastic? The world is constantly running after things that are just okay when compared with the truly awesome. So even when you fall away, you can still get back to the great - it just takes more effort and probably unnecessary pain.


Monday, March 9
Day 20. The halfway point. I was afraid I'd encounter a 200th hour situation. (Incidentally, this was the title of an episode of a show called The Unit, which was a pretty excellent look at U.S. Special Forces and their challenges in the field and at home. In this episode, Bob hits his 200th hour - the point at which you have trained so much that you get a little cavalier with your actions. You're on guard for it at the 100th hour, but by the 200th hour, you're not as prepared for it. Of course, Bob's 200th hour was accidentally grazing a teammate. Mine is a little less serious.)

I think I've finally reached the point, though, that television is not a reflexive action. This is a huge milestone. Don't get me wrong, this is still hard, and it feels like an interminable wait - especially when you realize that Lent is actually about 46 days, not 40.

Jessica shall prevail.


Thursday, March 12
Did you know that there are 10,080 minutes in a week? (And 525,600 minutes in a year. But that's beside the point.)

What do you do with those minutes?

You're actually asleep for a lot of them. Depending on whether you get the doctor-recommended amount of eight hours or a paltry five hours, you could spend between 2,100 - 3,360 hours sleeping. Let's split the difference. You're down to 7,350.

Now let's say you work an eight hour day. Granted, you do a lot during that day. But I like to think you're doing actual work. You're down to 4,950.

Then there's the necessary stuff - eating, bathroom, getting ready, etc. I ballparked these things at three hours a day. Maybe a bit generous, but include your driving time in that. You're down to 3,690.

What about errands? This could vary week to week, but let's top it out at three hours. 3,510.

We haven't even talked about church and quiet time, yet. I'll say 30 minutes/day for quiet time and two hours for church on Sunday. 3,180.

Now let's talk about television. The average American watches about five hours of television per day. Subtract 2,100 hours.

You now have 1,080 hours in which your life can be edified. That's 18 hours. But it's not 18 consecutive hours. It's 18 hours interspersed with the rest of your life.

Also, if you have kids, forget everything I just wrote. You have no time. Sorry.

How do you spend your 10,080 minutes?


Tuesday, March 17
Here's another good thought from ReThink Life.

Life is not a dress rehearsal.

There are no do-overs. No backsies.

You know how people experience something and then say, "Well, I'll never get that hour of my life back."

You're right. (It's also a really rude thing to say. Either don't do things you think are a waste of time, or shut up and enjoy the hard work that people put into something.)

The point is, you're never going to get that time back. It's been spent. So you have to make sure you're spending the little time you have on worthwhile things.


Wednesday, March 18
People can't see our hearts, but they can see our hearts by the choices we make.

I've talked about this before. I think. I can't actually find the post. It may only exist in my head.

Anyway, it's absolutely true. The things we consume will ultimately inform our actions, and our actions reveal our hearts. You can't convince me this isn't true.


Thursday, March 26
There was a plane crash. Now, the news has not strictly been a part of my no-TV ruling. But I've been staying away from videos and the like for the most part and strictly reading articles. But this was huge. So I dove headfirst into the online news networks.

And then the world went insane.

Correction: I rediscovered that the world has always been insane.

A good friend said something to me the other day that I have decided to adopt. I almost wish I subscribe to the pre-Tribbers philosophy so that I could believe followers of Christ will be missing out on the worst that is yet to come.

Alas. Alack. I do not. We're in for a rough ride.

But Christ has already won.


Tuesday, March 31
Last week. Home stretch.

I'm going crazy.

I am seriously going mad.

I was doing okay. Television is not the be all and end all of my existence.

But this week you'd think it was.

My brain keeps trying to justify watching 'just a little bit' of TV. "Go on YouTube" it says. "It'll be fun" it says. "What can it hurt?"

And the answer is: It probably wouldn't hurt a thing. I put this restriction on myself. No one is enforcing it. Just me and my willpower.

But if I can't even fight against my treacherous brain? I don't stand a chance against anyone else.


Sunday, April 5
So. We come to the end.

I'm not really sure this has been a coherent journey. I've done a lot of stuff since February 18. It's snowed at least twice.

I've come to a few conclusions.

1) It's impossible to go six weeks without seeing some kind of audio/visual content. Unless you live under a rock. Or deep in the woods without internet. Or cable. Or you're dead.

2) It is possible to go a few days without watching something. It's even enjoyable. You get all kinds of stuff done. Speaking of...

3) You have a lot of free time on your hands when you're not watching TV. Like, a lot a lot.

4) Not everyone will know you gave up TV and movies. This is a good thing. Not everyone needed to know. The ones who did know were really supportive.

5) It is a sacrifice. I missed out on some things. Poor Carolyn, I kept having to tell her no when she asked about going to a movie.

6) Withdrawal is awful. Spoilers help. So do recaps. I watch too many shows.

7) This was a good exercise in self-control. I feel closer to God. I feel compelled to manage my viewing habits better in the future.

Oh, and soda? Totally out.