Strange Communications

This Christmas I received a Christmas voicemail from a complete stranger, or at least someone with an unrecognizable voice who did not identify himself. He hoped us guys were doing okay down here.

We are.

This reminds me that my uncle who works for the United States Postal Service told a story about how very recently somebody came around to various route worker stations asking if anyone had certain people on their route. Because they had been working with a very old letter sorter and found two letters stuck in there. From 1979. Imagine the bittersweet memories possible in the receipt of those letters.

Did you get barbecue on that?

(And don't try telling me I did it myself. You know I don't even LIKE barbecue.)

I got a Christmas present tonight. It made me laugh more than any Christmas present I've ever gotten.

Just for the record.

A Fear Realized

I went to the dentist tonight. I haven't been for a year and a half, but I have untouchable tooth enamel, so that was all right.

Except NOT.

I have a cavity. My first ever cavity. I am hyper-nervous now, as if my tooth may fall out at any moment. I have an appointment on January 4 to get it filled. The thought of getting a cavity filled terrifies me beyond the capacity for rational thought.

*whimper*

Please keep any dental horror stories to yourselves until this nightmare is over.

By Faith

Janessa sees the tide turning, the enemy vanquished, the battle won. She sees the power of the king at work in the land, and today she bore the news to another of his subjects, and so I bring it to you, and so it goes on, or not, as you choose.

She started me thinking about the stories in Scripture, and how many radical reversals there were, and how hopeless things appeared just before: Joseph's family starving in Canaan; Hebrews breaking their backs in a hostile land, helpless against the slaughter of their children; a widow returning to a home turned strange, accompanied only by a foreigner; the Philistines with the world's most powerful warrior on their side and the Israelites with a king cowering in a tent.

Who is it who's been telling you that things are only going to get worse? Don't you think that's what the disciples thought, watching their hope die before their eyes?

This could be the last moment before everything changes for the better.

Some People Change

Montgomery Gentry lyrics

His old man was a rebel yeller:
Bad boy to the bone.
He'd say: "Can't trust that other fella,"
He'd judge 'em by the tone of their skin.
He was raised to think like his Dad:
Narrow mind full of hate.
On the road to no-where fast,
Till the Grace of God got in the way.
Then he saw the Light an' hit his knees an' cried an' said a prayer:
Rose up a brand new man; left the old one right there.

Here's to the strong; thanks to the brave.
Don't give up hope: some people change.
Against all odds, against the grain,
Love finds a way: some people change.

She was born with her mother's habit:
You could say: "It's in her blood."
She hates that she's gotta have it:
As she fills her glass up.
An she'd love to kill that bottle,
But all she can think about,
Is a, a better life, a second chance,
An' everyone she's letting down.
She throws that bottle down.

Here's to the strong; thanks to the brave.
Don't give up hope: some people change.
Against all odds, against the grain,
Love finds a way: some people change.

Thank God for those who make it:
Let them be the Light.
(Let them be the light)
(Some people change.)
Here's to the strong; thanks to the brave.
Don't give up hope: some people change.
Against all odds, against the grain,
Love finds a way: some people change.
Some people change.
(Some people change)

Look! Up in the sky!

A weather service warning scrolling across the bottom of my TV screen alerted me that the Northern Lights had been spotted over West Michigan. The best place to view them from, I was informed, was from somewhere dark. Undaunted by the fact that I lived in an apartment complex, I raced downstairs to the parking lot. This was not an entirely bad notion, in that a) at least I was outside and b) the parking lot light is often burned out, in which case the parking lot feels very, very dark.

I exited through the front door and was looking up at the sky before I reached the sidewalk to the parking lot. There were no Northern Lights visible, and, perhaps in related news, the light in the parking lot was quite bright.

So I didn't get to fulfill my dream of seeing the Northern Lights. But I did see, out of the corner of my eye as I was gazing up earnestly, that the man out walking his two dogs across the way had started looking up, too.

That, along with the three constellations I recognized instantly, made my evening.

Church by any other name

Tonight I went to a two-hour long discussion on what kind of church building we might build/buy, and how we might work out logistics until we have such a building, and by the time I left the meeting I was in tears.

I don't think this is all church is. Is it? A building? Is church two Sunday services (different sermons, for the love of the Book of Church Order!), a half-hearted Sunday School class or two, a Wednesday night Bible study where all of the factual questions are answered "correctly" and all of the subjective "what does this mean for you" questions are met with reticence? This is how I've lived for so long, and really in some ways it's how I’m comfortable.

So why did I leave crying?

Because of the part of me that desperately longs for more out of church than attendance. Because of the part of me that fears more. Because I feel that the kind of church I've been living recently makes my worst nightmares possible.

Because I don't want a building, I want a family.

Defeating Lies

Today I finished reading a book called Waking the Dead, by John Eldredge. (See my reading journal for more on this book.) This afternoon at lunch I read a chapter on spiritual warfare. Eldredge doesn't state that Satan has unlimited power over believers, but points out that we grant him power when we agree to his lies, lies that can come from the outside or rise seemingly from within ourselves.

You're so stupid.

You're always like this.

You can never change; you'll always be this way.

You don't love God enough.

You aren't a good Christian.

You don't witness like you should.

You aren't who you should be.

Everybody is disappointed in you. Everybody wants you to be [fill in the blank], and you're not.

Nobody really cares about you.

Everybody's busy looking out for themselves. If you want anything to happen in your life, you have to do it yourself. The dwarves are for the dwarves.

You had your chance, and you blew it.

It's staggering to realize the quantity of things like this I've told myself over the years. But what if I wasn't the one telling myself? What if I am agreeing with an enemy? What if the people who have told me some of these things were unconsciously repeating lies that have invaded their own hearts? Aren't we free to disagree with the lies? And what if we agreed with a new voice?

You are honored.

You are precious, and I love you.

You belong to me.

Your heart has been cleansed.

You shine with the glory of God.

I have equipped you with everything you need to live; not just to survive, but to live.

You are free indeed.

Last Sunday, my pastor spoke of joy and obedience. "I think Reformed Christianity," he said, "has a problem with talking about" (and I knew where he was going with it) "obedience."

Wait...really? I was expecting "joy" to be that last word. In my experience, the point at which my Reformed Christianity has most been attacked is on this level of joy and obedience, and it's usually joy that gets pushed aside. If you're like me, talking about obedience has often been just another way of talking about failure.

"If you were everything you should be, which you're not and never can be, you could have joy. But since you're worthless, what you have is a sludging through this measly life hoping that God takes you out of it quickly, because joy is only available to perfect obedience, and thus only available in heaven."

That's what I've heard, from one source or another. I'm done with that.

Tomorrow is new. And so is the next hour--even the next second. I want to stand for truth, not fall to lies. I want to live. And since the Lord of all things defeated death on my behalf, that's just what I can do.

Who's with me?

Marooooned! (Almost.)

I just got inside from being stuck in the snow. In my parking lot. My car went over the edge of the parking lot (there is only dirt on the other side of the paved area, and the dirt is lower than the asphalt), and when I put it into reverse there was only a recalcitrant whirring noise as my tires tried and failed to grab traction.

As an obvious first resort, I called my family members, who are between 2 and 9 hours away. No answer. I seriously considered calling one of my two closest male neighbors (well, the two closest ones I know) to see if somebody could come saaaaave me, but I decided I wouldn't do that until I had exhausted all of my other ideas. For instance, I realize now I've heard that you can put your floormats under tires for traction purposes. I didn't have to use that idea, but I'm putting it out there so you can see the gears are working.

Using my ice scraper, I cleared the area behind my front tires. Success!

Also, what better place could there possibly be to get stuck than outside of your own house?

Practically Perfect Weekend

Over the past three days, I have done everything I didn't want to do. Which means, of course, that I actually did want to do it, I know, but what I mean is that when I would think about doing something and then think immediately about putting it off, I just did it.

I got So Much Done.

On Friday night, I went to Tim and Lisa's and spent the evening with the two of them and Brittany. Hilarity ensued. Then on Saturday, I had absolutely no appointments on my calendar. I did everything on my list of things to do for Saturday, plus two more things that had been on my list of "Things to Do Soon." My apartment hasn't looked this good since before I had friends in this town.

One more day of the weekend to go, and I'm sure today will be as good as the others. Happy Sunday, everyone!